I Received System to Become Dragonborn-Chapter 1234: Scenes Of Future

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Adrius felt the moment Tar'Zul-Vekar's roots of light entwined with the Archmages' unstable construct, the suffocating pressure around the spell lattice eased.

The warped air steadied. Symbols that had been flickering and collapsing snapped into alignment, their rotations smoothing into controlled orbits.

Lysander let a breath he had not realized he was holding. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the final sigil with awe and relief washing through him in equal measure.

Sylmira's eyes widened as ancient runes she barely understood flowed past her senses, harmonizing with their Magic instead of tearing it apart.

Saeldir the Elf Archmage bowed his head instinctively. His feeling of respect for the ancient forest god cutting through exhaustion as the presence of the god reinforced their work without overpowering it.

"Thank you," Adrius said quietly with sincerity.

The others echoed it in different ways. Gratitude did not need volume. It showed in the steadiness of their Magic, or in the renewed certainty that their sealing attempt now had a chance.

Tar'Zul-Vekar did not respond immediately. Their roots simply held patiently and unwaveringly, as if this cooperation was as natural as sunlight touching leaves.

Above them, the battlefield also underwent some changes.

Around King Gulben and those holding the mid-air defensive line, the time distortion had been relentless.

Debris looped endlessly, shattering and reforming in violent cycles before plunging downward again.

Aurdis strained beside her father with her Magic burning as she redirected fragments that refused to stay destroyed and keep rewinding into its full form.

Aerchon also fought with grim focus while carving through warped stone that reappeared moments after being broken apart.

Adrien and Billy moved in tandem as always, battered but unyielding, while Arty forced her will through the chaos, tearing apart threats.

Suddenly the roots of light arrived around them.

Light erupted through the distorted space itself, not tearing it open but forcing it into submission. Radiant tendrils pierced through looping debris, anchoring themselves into the air and the fractured flow of time.

The endless respawning shattered and stopped. Broken stone crumbled once and stayed crumbled. Warped currents collapsed into silence as the roots pulsed with stabilizing power of the forest life.

King Gulben stared upward with a stunned expression, as the sky around them finally obeyed reality again.

Aurdis felt tears sting her eyes as the pressure eased. She felt gratitude blooming in her chest even as she kept fighting.

Aerchon let out a harsh laugh of relief. Adrien steadied himself and Billy wiped blood from his lip, both silently acknowledging the unseen help arrived for them.

Arty clenched her fist. Her heart pounding, her respect for the ancient god now felt like they were burning fierce and wordless.

Above them all, Zerathul felt the change.

His control wavered even just slightly, but it was enough to make him angry. His gaze dropped for the first time, gold-lined fractures along his body flaring unevenly as his attention snapped downward.

His expression changed and now amusement drained into irritation, then into open dislike.

"So, the forest god chooses to interfere again?" he said coldly.

The warped sky darkened around him as his tentacles stiffened.

"You should have remained buried after what I did before. This is not your business to protect, moreover with your life."

His eyes burned as he looked back toward the Dragons and the rising roots of light.

"But now you have made yourself part of my problem," Zerathul growled with anger.

He then lifted one of his long fingered hands slowly, deliberately. The space behind him responded immediately.

The air changed. It did not shatter like glass or ripple like water. It split like paper being ripped apart by an unseen hand, a massive vertical wound opening behind his body.

The edges curled outward in a jagged and unstable manner, leaking distorted light and shadows that bled into the sky. The sky screamed as the tear widened, stretching far beyond Zerathul's silhouette until it loomed like a colossal window carved into reality.

Within it, scenes began to move.

Erend was the first to see clearly. His Dragon eyes widened as the image stabilized. Eccar felt it an instant later, then Aesa, their shared awareness amplifying the shock like a blow to the chest.

They saw the Elf Palace burned. Its white spires and walls lay broken and collapsed, ancient crystal towers cracked open. Blood ran down marble steps that had once been immaculate.

The sacred gardens had rotted into blackened soil, their trees twisted and hollow, leaves hanging and dead.

Undead figures of the Elves wandered through the ruins and moved with broken joints and malformed bodies, some stitched together by corruption and the others half-liquefied and crawling. Their eyes glowed with sickly light as they dragged weapons through pools of blood and rot.

The vision changed into the scenes of kingdoms that fell one after another. Cities drowned in crimson mist. Fields became graveyards where corpses clawed their way back out of the earth.

Rivers ran dark and sluggish, choked with decay. The land itself looked diseased with veins of corruption spreading beneath cracked soil, pulsing like a living infection.

Aesa's chest tightened painfully. Her wings trembled as she stared, unable to look away.

Eccar's claws curled. Rage boiled hot and violent in his heart, barely contained as his gaze locked onto the destruction of everything they had sworn to protect.

Erend felt something colder than fear sink into his core. His scales prickled as lightning crawled along them without his command.

"No…," he thought, the word hollow and sharp at the same time. "Is that… the future…"

Then, Zerathul's voice rolled out from the tearing sky, layered with satisfaction and cruelty.

"This is what awaits you all," he said calmly. "This is the end written into your resistance. Your worlds are unmade. Life reclaimed by death. Order rewritten by my hands."

The visions continued to scroll behind him relentlessly, each scene worse than the last.

"You all fight," Zerathul went on, eyes gleaming as he watched their reactions, "to delay the inevitable by moments. Not stop it."

The torn air pulsed, and the destruction burned itself into their sight.