Reborn as a Dragon:Rise of The Draconic King

Chapter 94 - 89:The Stone City Beneath the Peaks

The massive gates of the mountain groaned as they opened.

Stone scraped against stone, a deep grinding echo that rolled through the canyon like distant thunder. Dust drifted from the seams of the ancient structure, catching the sunlight as it spilled into the darkness beyond.

For a moment, no one moved.

Not the elves.

Not the dwarves.

Not even John.

The elder dwarf stood at the threshold, one hand resting on the haft of his war axe, his eyes never leaving the massive black dragon before him.

"...You enter," he said slowly, his voice still carrying that strange mix of caution and reverence, "as a guest."

Lythriel leaned slightly toward John.

"That sounds like there are conditions."

John murmured back,

"There are always conditions."

The elder’s gaze flicked briefly toward her, then returned to John.

"...Guest," he repeated, more firmly this time. "Not conqueror."

John lowered his head slightly, a gesture that—coming from something his size—felt like the mountains themselves bowing.

"I have no interest in conquering your home."

The dwarves behind the elder shifted uneasily, clearly not fully convinced.

One of them muttered in their own tongue. Another tightened his grip on a massive crossbow-like weapon.

Sylvara stepped forward, her expression calm, voice gentle.

"We come to learn... not to take."

The elder studied her carefully.

"...Words are light," he said. "Stone remembers weight."

Aerion inclined his head.

"Then judge us by our actions."

A long silence followed.

Then—

The elder stepped aside.

"...Enter."

---

## The Descent

The moment they crossed the threshold, the world changed.

The sunlight behind them faded as they stepped into a vast stone corridor carved directly into the mountain. The air grew cooler, denser, carrying the scent of metal, earth, and something older—something lived-in.

Torches lined the walls, their flames steady and bright, illuminating intricate carvings etched into the stone.

Scenes of war.

Of forging.

Of dragons.

John’s eyes lingered on that last one.

A carving of a dragon—massive, winged, standing amidst dwarves.

But unlike the others...

The dwarves were not fighting it.

They stood beside it.

Lythriel noticed.

"...You see that?"

"Yes."

Sylvara stepped closer to the carving, her fingers hovering just above the stone.

"They don’t look afraid."

Aerion’s voice was quiet.

"No... they look allied."

The elder did not turn as he walked ahead, but his voice echoed back.

"...Old stories."

John narrowed his eyes slightly.

"About dragons?"

"...About war."

That was not the same answer.

Lythriel whispered,

"That sounded like a *don’t ask yet*."

John murmured,

"I noticed."

---

## The City Revealed

The corridor opened suddenly.

And the sight beyond made even John pause.

A vast underground city stretched before them.

Carved entirely from the mountain’s heart.

Massive stone pillars rose like the trunks of titans, supporting a ceiling so high it vanished into shadow. Bridges connected different levels of the city, while stairways spiraled along the inner walls.

Rivers of molten metal flowed through controlled channels far below, casting a fiery orange glow that illuminated the entire cavern.

The sound hit them next.

Hammer on anvil.

Metal ringing.

Voices shouting.

Life.

A civilization hidden beneath the mountains for centuries.

Lythriel’s jaw dropped.

"...Alright."

She turned slowly.

"I take back every complaint I’ve made about this trip."

Sylvara smiled softly, awe in her eyes.

"It’s beautiful."

Even Aerion seemed impressed.

"...Remarkable."

John said nothing.

But his gaze moved slowly across the city.

Taking everything in.

Learning.

Understanding.

Then—

The city noticed him.

One by one, the sounds began to fade.

Hammers slowed.

Voices stopped.

Heads turned.

A dragon stood at their gates.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Dragon..."

"...Impossible..."

"...Five centuries..."

"...Shadow..."

Fear.

Awe.

Disbelief.

Children were quickly pulled behind their parents.

Warriors stepped forward instinctively, weapons ready but not raised.

The elder stopped walking.

He turned.

And raised his hand.

Silence fell completely.

"...He is guest," the elder said firmly.

The words carried weight.

Authority.

The tension didn’t vanish.

But it shifted.

From immediate hostility...

To wary observation.

---

## The Hall of Stone

They were led deeper into the city.

Toward a massive structure at its center.

A hall.

Grand.

Ancient.

The doors alone were towering slabs of carved stone, etched with runes that pulsed faintly with old magic.

Inside—

The Hall of Stone.

Massive pillars lined the chamber, each carved with the likeness of dwarven kings long past. At the far end stood a raised platform, upon which rested a throne carved from a single piece of dark granite.

The elder approached it.

Then turned.

"...You stand in the Hall of Stone."

He rested both hands on his axe.

"I am Thargrum Ironvein. Stonewarden of Kar’Dum."

Lythriel leaned toward Sylvara.

"...That name sounds important."

Sylvara nodded slightly.

"Very."

Aerion stepped forward.

"I am Commander Aerion of Greenwood."

He gestured slightly.

"These are my companions."

He indicated each of them in turn.

"Lythriel. Sylvara."

Then finally—

"John."

All eyes returned to the dragon.

Thargrum studied him carefully.

"...John."

He said the name slowly.

As if testing it.

"...You are not like the dragons in our records."

John tilted his head.

"How so?"

Thargrum stepped down from the platform.

Closer.

Still cautious.

"...You speak."

Lythriel muttered,

"That’s the part he finds strange?"

Thargrum ignored her.

"...And your eyes."

He looked directly at John.

"...They are aware."

John gave a faint smile.

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

Thargrum did not smile.

"...It is not."

---

## Old Wounds

A long silence settled.

Then Thargrum spoke again.

"...Five hundred years ago..."

His voice lowered slightly.

"...Dragons came to these mountains."

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Heavy.

Lythriel straightened.

Sylvara’s expression grew serious.

Aerion watched closely.

"...They did not come as guests," Thargrum continued.

"...They burned. They broke. They took."

John remained still.

"...We fought them."

Thargrum’s grip on his axe tightened.

"...We survived."

Lythriel asked carefully,

"...What happened to them?"

Thargrum’s gaze hardened.

"...We drove them out."

He paused.

"...At great cost."

Silence.

The weight of history hung in the air.

John finally spoke.

"I am not them."

Thargrum looked at him.

Long.

Searching.

"...No."

He said quietly.

"...You are not."

But the hesitation remained.

---

## A Test of Trust

Thargrum turned slightly.

"...If you wish to walk freely in Kar’Dum..."

He looked back at John.

"...You will prove your intent."

Lythriel groaned quietly.

"There it is."

John smirked.

"I was expecting that."

Sylvara asked gently,

"What must we do?"

Thargrum’s expression darkened.

"...Something has been hunting our outer tunnels."

Aerion’s eyes narrowed.

"What kind of threat?"

"...Unknown."

Thargrum shook his head slightly.

"...It kills patrols."

"...Leaves nothing but broken stone."

Lythriel frowned.

"That sounds unpleasant."

John’s eyes sharpened.

"...Tier?"

The system flickered.

**[Analysis Incomplete]**

"...High," Thargrum answered.

"...Too high for our outer guard."

John smiled slightly.

"Good."

Lythriel looked at him.

"You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe."

Thargrum studied him again.

"...You face it."

"...You prove you are not like the others."

John lowered his head slightly.

"Done."

Sylvara blinked.

"That was fast."

Aerion nodded slowly.

"A necessary step."

Lythriel twirled her spear.

"Well then."

She grinned.

"Let’s go kill whatever’s eating dwarves."

---

## The Lower Tunnels

The entrance to the lower tunnels lay deep beneath the city.

As they descended, the warmth of the forge levels faded.

The air grew colder.

Darker.

Torches became fewer.

The stone walls here were rougher.

Older.

Less maintained.

John’s claws echoed against the ground as he walked.

Even he felt it.

Something was wrong here.

The system whispered—

**[Warning: Host entering high-risk zone]**

Lythriel tightened her grip on her spear.

"...I don’t like this place."

Sylvara nodded.

"There’s... something unnatural."

Aerion signaled for silence.

They moved carefully.

Step by step.

Then—

A sound.

Scraping.

Deep within the tunnel.

John stopped.

His eyes narrowed.

"...There."

The darkness shifted.

And something moved.

Large.

Massive.

And watching them.

---

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