Chương 20: Chapter 19 – Escort Quest

Cade stood at the edge of the stone slab, boots sunk lightly into slick grooves, and watched as Aquelion now gnawed enthusiastically on a moss-covered stick. The little gator had it pinned between his front claws, jaws working with frenzied focus, tail thumping the stone in a steady rhythm. It was surreal. This was supposed to be a Viscount—a future terror of the wetlands, its name would be spoken with fear. An engine of ruin.

The kind of creature the System marked for elimination before it could grow into its title. But now? Cade smirked as the hatchling pounced on the stick again with a squealing grunt of victory, like he'd just slain some terrible foe. He absent mindedly tapped the haft of his axe, eyes lingering on the edge of the stone. The System's quest window still lingered faintly in his memory: You stand at a crossroads… cull the scion… or shepherd it… Another binary directive just like before.

The System was so certain it would grow up to be a terror. But standing here, watching Aquelion wiggle onto his back and scratch his belly with one tiny hind leg?

"Yeah," Cade muttered.

"A real monster of destruction right there." And it wasn't just a gut feeling. Every other creature he'd encountered in this cursed Tutorial had attacked on sight, like it was hardwired into them. No hesitation or thought, just pure unadulterated violence. But not this one. Aquelion hadn't so much as hissed at him. The only thing he'd launched himself at was a stick. Cade sighed and dropped to one knee, hand outstretched.

"Alright, little gator. Let's get going." Aquelion looked up from his vanquished moss covered stick, blinking slowly. Then he waddled forward and nosed into Cade's palm without hesitation. His scales were soft and warm to the touch, and his aquamarine eyes were wide with what Cade could only describe as trust.

"Great," Cade said with a crooked smile.

"This little guy probably thinks I'm his mom." He tilted his head slightly.

"Wait. Did gators do that before the System? Bond to the first thing they saw after hatching?" Aquelion didn't answer as it climbed up Cade's arm. Tiny claws dug into the leather of Cade's borrowed armor, scrabbling for purchase with surprising strength. A moment later, the baby gator had wriggled up onto his forearm and was peering up at him expectantly. Cade stood, shifting the small weight to rest comfortably in the crook of his arm.

"So I guess I'm shepherding you to your training grounds," he said aloud but didn't receive a response from either the System or Aquelion. He scanned the surrounding swamp. Mist drifted lazily across the undergrowth. The air was filled with that same wet he'd grown used to by now. But there was no marker. No hovering waypoint. No magical arrow conveniently pointing the way.

"System," Cade called out.

"Are you gonna tell me where this training ground is, or do I just wander the swamp and hope I find it?" Silence. He grumbled.

"Figures." But at the sound of his voice, Aquelion stirred. The gator perked up head tilting, then glanced toward the southwest. He chirped once—then squirmed free of Cade's arms, climbed up his armor with ease, and settled on his shoulder.

"Whoa—okay," Cade laughed, steadying him.

"You're faster than you look." Aquelion nuzzled into Cade's jawline, tail curling around the back of his neck like a living scarf.

"You're not gonna claw my face open, right?" The gator responded with a confident little chirp, smug and utterly unconcerned. Cade rolled his eyes.

"Alright then, navigator. You know where we're going?" He felt the faintest tug as Aquelion lifted a foreclaw and pointed— very deliberately —southwest. Cade stared at the gesture.

"…You've gotta be kidding me." But Aquelion was already looking ahead, eyes fixed on a path only he could see. Cade exhaled, adjusted his grip on his axe, and started walking.

"Southwest it is." They moved throughout the day, unchallenged. Cade adjusted his stride unconsciously, slowing just enough that the gator didn't have to scramble to keep his balance. The hatchling shifted his weight, claws easing, tail relaxing around Cade's neck. He pressed closer, small body warm through the leather. Cade felt something unfamiliar tighten in his chest. He'd spent the last week being measured. Judged by the people around him. Flagged as insufficient by an uncaring System.

But this little gator—this future terror the System wanted culled—didn't care about any of that. Aquelion hadn't asked what Cade was. He'd just accepted that Cade was there. The wetlands were as alive as ever with random chirps and croaks but nothing approached them. Cade caught movement often. In the water, in the trees, at the edge of the tall ferns. Beasts that once would've leapt at him for the chance to tear him limb from limb now watched from a distance, then vanished.

He saw a bog boar, as big a horse, lay down flat into the murky shallows the moment it noticed him. Even a trio of razor-fanged frogs, the kind his identify said would tear flesh with their hooked tongues, bolted at the mere sound of his footsteps. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Cade frowned and glanced at the little gator lounging across his shoulders.

Aquelion's tail swayed idly with each of Cade's steps, his head lazily resting near Cade's collarbone, eyes half-lidded.

"This didn't start happening until you showed up," Cade muttered.

"You're giving off some kind of presence, aren't you?" Aquelion yawned followed by a slow, deliberate blink totally unbothered by Cade's accusation.

"Yeah," Cade said.

"You're definitely the boss of the beasts around here." The trail beneath his boots shifted as they pressed deeper into the swamp. Mud gave way to vine-choked thickets, then to low, rolling hills streaked with sheets of algae and moss. Strange fungal blooms marked the landscape in patches of red and gold, and the air gradually changed. Still damp, but cooler now. And still, Aquelion pointed the way.

He didn't speak but whenever the path forked—if one trail bent left, or a slope led upward or down—he'd tap a claw or shift his weight subtly in one direction. It was instinct, Cade figured. Some animals migrated across entire continents before the System ever appeared. Maybe this was the same. System-amplified instinct, guiding the little scion to something his ancestors had set up for him. They walked until the sun fell below the canopy, casting the marsh in a pale, fading glow. The world grew dim.

The shadows stretched. But Aquelion didn't let Cade slow down.

"No rest, huh?" Cade said, cracking his neck.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to keep going." Not that he was tired. The Primordial Dewdrop pulsed steadily in his pocket, a soft warmth radiating through him like a second much slower heartbeat. Every time the pulse came, the aches faded. The thirst receded. Hunger dissolved like mist in the morning sun. Cade glanced at Aquelion again. The little gator hadn't eaten since hatching. And yet, he showed no signs of fatigue. The Dewdrop might not just be nourishing him—it might be nourishing both of them.

The swamp darkened and another hour passed in silence. Then Cade saw it: A glow of green light up ahead. Bioluminescent mushrooms—small, at first. Barely more than a pinprick beneath the ferns. But they grew thicker as he walked, clustering along fallen logs and roots, casting faint emerald halos on the swamp floor. Then more appeared. Larger. Brighter. Some reached his knees, others bloomed like oversized toadstools along the trees, forming pillars of light that bathed the path in a soft, alien shimmer.

Aquelion perked up, chirped twice, then darted down Cade's back and hit the moss with a splash of tiny claws.

"Hey—wait!" Cade broke into a run after him, boots slapping against wet earth. Aquelion was fast as he darted between roots, leapt over shallow streams, and wove through the glowing fungal groves like he knew exactly where to go. Fungi pulsed with an unknown rhythm. Leaves shimmered with faint bioluminescence. Spore clouds danced in slow spirals through the air. Cade ducked under a glowing vine, leapt over a patch of soft blue moss, and nearly lost sight of Aquelion as the light intensified.

Then the trees fell away. They burst into a wide circular clearing, ringed by natural stone and veiled in low-hanging mist. And at the center—taking up the space like a forgotten altar—was a massive disc of stone, flush with the earth and nearly a hundred meters across. Cade skidded to a stop, heart pounding. Aquelion was already at the center, claws clicking against the stone as he took his place. Cade stepped into the clearing, and his breath caught in his throat. This stone was definitely not natural.

It had the look of something shaped by an ancient civilization yet it was crafted with such eerie precision that no seams between stones were visible, as if the whole disc had been poured into the earth in one unbroken piece. Its surface was a smooth, matte gray. The light from the bioluminescent fungi skimmed across it in soft ripples, revealing minute channels and lines carved deep into the platform's face.

Moss and lichen filled the gaps along the outer ring, but the center was pristine, untouched by time or growth. And around the disc's circumference, arranged with ritualistic intent, were eight enormous carvings, each etched into the stone in lifelike relief, radiating age and reverence. To Cade's left, the first carving showed snakes, dozens of them, tangled in a sinuous coil.

Some were slim, elegant constrictors with slit-pupiled eyes frozen mid-strike; others were massive-bodied pit vipers, their thick scales rendered with obsessive detail, jaws spread wide to show needle-point fangs. Despite their varied poses, all the serpents seemed poised to strike, as though guarding what lay at the heart of the circle. The monitor lizards came next, positioned just beside the serpents in a tense, snarling line.

Each was broad-shouldered and powerful, with frilled necks flared wide and long tails that coiled behind them like armored whips. Carved tongues flicked outward in challenge, and their claws—jagged, thick, and curved—looked ready to gouge stone or scale. Moving on, Cade reached the section of frogs. Some were captured mid-motion—caught forever in exaggerated leaps with limbs stretched wide. Others had legs bulged with coiled strength as if to leap at a moment's notice.

All had their skin carved with obvious textures—some warty and thick, others smooth and slick like river stones. Their wide-set eyes stared inward with uncanny alertness, as if they sensed something Cade could not. Just beyond them were the axolotls, arranged in a delicate cluster that felt somehow softer than the rest. Their bodies were long and sinuous, legs short, tails curling. Each bore feathery gills flaring from both sides of their heads like living crowns, and their expressions were strangely serene.

The turtles dominated the next arc of the circle. These were enormous, carved with shells like ancient domes, each plate ridged and worn as if aged a thousand years. Some had moss etched onto their backs, others bore spikes. Their eyes were small but heavy-lidded, brimming with wisdom and weight, gazes fixed with glacial patience toward the center. From there, the carvings shifted to salamanders, lean and predatory, their bodies slick and arched in mid-crawl.

Their spines flared with stylized flames, each flicker etched in jagged lines that seemed to shimmer in the low light. Broad jaws and ridged tails that looked made to lash through water or fire alike. Their bodies exuded motion even in stone stillness. The iguanas followed—stoic, bulky creatures with crest-lined backs and hard, beady eyes. They were crouched low, legs planted firm against the stone, muscles carved taut with coiled readiness. Their jaws were shut tight and their tails wrapped neatly behind.

They faced the center with stern, unblinking stares. And finally, the gators. These were the most detailed of all. A range of sizes filled their eighth of the ring—from hatchlings barely larger than Cade's forearm, clustered atop the backs of larger adults, to immense, ancient forms with cracked jaws and gouged armor plating. Their eyes were deep, hollow sockets full of intent. Every creature, every species, faced inward—not with hostility, but with devotion. Reverence carved into scale, tooth, claw, and eye.

The entire circle, hundreds of tons of stone and thousands of years of meaning, was designed not to intimidate outward, but to honor what lay at its center. Cade followed their gaze. At the heart of the stone disc lay a dragon—not merely carved, but enthroned in darker stone, its presence anchoring the entire ritual site. This was no knight's monster, no gold-hoarding legend of pre-System times. Its form was long-bodied and powerful.

Thick limbs braced its serpentine body, each talon engraved with fine ridges as if it had torn its way from myth into stone. Tendrils curled from the dragon's maw like flowing whiskers, sweeping back over its shoulders in arcs that evoked both ancient nobility and elemental fury. Along its spine ran a raised crest, segmented and sharp, ending in a tail that coiled in on itself like a waiting tempest. Its wings were outstretched behind it, vast and ridged like the fins of some deep-sea leviathan.

This was no grounded god, but primordial force of all three domains: land, water, and sky all at once. But it was the face that held Cade's attention. The dragon's mouth was slightly open, its teeth long, curved, and overlapping like crescent moons sharpened to surgical points. Its snout was broad, regal, and fierce—but it was the eye set into its forehead that claimed dominance over the entire space. A gemstone the size of a clenched fist had been embedded there, carved from deep violet crystal.

Even inert and in the dark, it gleamed faintly with a light that didn't come from the mushrooms or the sky. Lines radiated outward from the dragon's body, faint veins cut into the platform, connecting it to every creature around the ring. And Cade understood then: the dragon was not merely the center. It was the keystone, the conduit through which all their power would flow.

"This has to be it," Cade whispered, awestruck by the magnitude and detail of all of the carvings.