Chapter 7: The World Tree

“The site of sacrifice.”

The scene within the temple was entirely unexpected, but Dyril didn’t hesitate. He climbed onto the stone platform, overlooking the vast, boundless desert that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Since ancient times, this desolation and the passage of time had settled here, without beginning or end. No matter how much prosperity once existed, it would wither and fade away in the river of time, leaving nothing behind.

The young bronze dragon stood atop the altar for a long time, seemingly awed by the sight before him and the aura it exuded. After a significant while, he finally regained his senses and began to examine the stone platform beneath his feet.

The grayish-white stone platform was adorned with intricate pale gold patterns. Unlike the surrounding desolate desert and the stone pillars marked by the heavy passage of time, the platform bore no signs of age; it was smooth and appeared as if it had just been freshly cast and constructed.

“The altar—who is being worshiped here?”

On this expansive altar, wide enough for even ancient dragons to move freely and engage in combat, Dyril curiously looked around.

This was indeed a place of sacrifice, but he saw neither idols nor symbols representing any great being. There was nothing here to worship.

Just as that question formed in his mind, the desert began to tremble. Streams of pale golden light surged from all directions, converging into hundreds of majestic rivers of light, flowing toward the altar where he stood.

Golden raindrops began to fall from the empty sky, each drop inscribed with divine characters. Waves of desolate and mysterious energy surged from the void, gradually spreading. The firmament darkened, eventually losing all meaning of color and transforming into pure darkness.

Beyond the void that transcended time and space, a vibrant realm filled with countless shimmering stars unveiled itself.

At first, Dyril attempted to discern and touch the pale golden divine characters falling like rain, but his attention was completely captivated by the luminous starry world that gradually emerged from the void.

It felt as though the entirety of Dyril was being drawn into this realm. The young dragon sensed his bloodline surging, not merely the fierce revival and enhancement that accompanied each awakening from slumber, but a deeper yearning and pursuit stemming from the essence of life itself.

Hundreds of rivers of light intertwined, rushing above the altar, as golden rain continued to fall. After reaching a certain threshold, the altar responded abruptly, shooting forth a blinding beam of golden light that shot straight into the heavens.

The light beam gradually expanded, enveloping the somewhat bewildered hatchling completely within its glow. But it did not stop there; the radiance continued to swell until it engulfed the entire desert.

On the surface of the light beam, countless divine characters began to flicker in and out of existence, their meanings elusive. In the air, echoes of long, resonating roars and howls could be faintly heard, accompanied by the sound of whistling winds and rumbling thunder.

As an overwhelming pressure descended from the void, Dyril, whose four claws had gone numb, realized what the altar’s sacrificial focus was—it was that magnificent and vast expanse of the starry sky.

Yet, within the boundless sky, countless beings were born, but only those with their own independent will could respond to such a sacrifice.

Even though the ritual had begun and the will of some being was already manifesting, Dyril still did not know what he was about to face.

In that moment, he suddenly remembered something extremely important: as he stood on the altar, he had no offerings to present to the great existence whose will was about to descend from the stars.

He hadn’t brought anything with him! 

But there was no chance for him to turn back, not even a moment to jump off the altar and leave the temple. The stars trembled, and time and space warped around him.

A divine tree materialized, stretching across the endless void, cradling the sun and moon, with constellations swirling around it, radiating an eternal, magnificent light.

Vaguely visible were towering palaces, rising like mountains, grand and sacred, where powerful beings moved about, their entire forms glowing with a holy radiance. They exude an aura of strength and mystery that could shock even a dragon from an immeasurable distance across time and space.

“The World Tree?!”

Even in the dragon clan’s ancestral records, it was described as a legendary divine tree, where each tree represented an entire realm, harboring billions of life forms that thrived and reproduced on its trunk and branches.

“What a lucky little guy.”

Ripples of time and space spread above the altar as the lush branches stretched out, and thick vines, as robust as dragons or serpents, grew. Before Dyril’s gaze, they transformed into a female face radiating love and serenity, looking down upon the hatchling.

“…Roar!”

The young dragon let out a low growl, arcs of electricity jumping between his bright golden scales. In that moment, Dyril felt as if he were about to burst apart; he clearly sensed his own insignificance.

His dragon heart beat violently, pumping life and magical energy through his body, allowing him to struggle a little longer.

He had nearly been crushed, but the World Tree bore him no ill will. Who would harbor malice toward a speck of dust floating by?

Perhaps it was Dyril’s method of communication that piqued the other’s interest, resulting in a fragment of consciousness descending. However, even with such careful attention from the presence, he found it hard to bear.

He never expected that this altar, floating in the void, could connect him to such a terrifying existence—a World Tree that spanned the void and possessed an independent consciousness.

“It is still too early for you to touch the void.”

Sensing the hatchling’s struggle to bear the encounter, and that he could not even communicate with a fragment of its will, the enormous female visage that nearly obscured the heavens of the temple dissolved, transforming into emerald shooting stars that scattered across the vast desert.

On the altar, only some fragmented branches and leaves remained, forming a face that was only slightly larger than the young dragon’s, floating before him.

Even so, the vastness and grandeur conveyed by that fragment of consciousness made Dyril feel extremely uncomfortable and oppressed.

“There is no need to be nervous, little dragon,” the presence said soothingly. “I have met the Platinum Dragon God and even conversed with Him. Although you are unprepared, you still bring me joy.”

“Oh great and benevolent World Tree, what is there about me that warrants your attention? I am just a bronze hatchling.” 

Dyril felt a deep sense of confusion. Among the metallic dragons, only the gold and silver dragons received the most affection from the Dragon God, while the other three-colored copper dragons were often overlooked.

“You come from a vibrant and expansive world. I can sense the essence that clings to you; such a world is well-suited to be a cradle for the growth of my children.”

The joy emanating from the massive female visage’s consciousness was palpable, but Dyril only felt a chill run through him. Still, he began to understand why such a powerful entity would bestow its will upon a small hatchling like him.