Chapter 93 The Obsidian
The Obsidian," Wayne whispered, his hand hovering just inches from the gem. "The dragon you saw... Is going to be our weapon"
Wayne stood before the altar, his breath hitching as he reached out to caress the cold, jagged edges of the stone’s setting.
"Obsidian," he whispered. His eyes shimmered, reflecting the dark, oily light of the gem as if he were glimpsing the soul of the world itself.
Raymond buckled his hands behind his back, standing with a soldier’s discipline.
He remained calm, but even he could feel the hair on his arms stand up. The stone was magnificent, polished void that seemed to pull the very air toward it. Its reflection was so sharp it was almost blinding, and a heavy, rhythmic surge of power pulsed through the cave, vibrating in their chests like a second heartbeat.
"It’s not just a rock, Raymond," Wayne said, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and greed. "It’s a tether. Every time the golden dragon breaths, this stone pulses. They are one and the same."
He leaned closer, his face inches from the blinding surface.
"Ezra thinks he’s protecting the girl, but he’s standing in the middle of a storm he can't even see."
"It's powerful, and no one can deny this," Raymond said, his voice echoing against the damp cave walls. He couldn't take his eyes off the pulsing black gem.
"No, it's not," Wayne retorted sharply.
Raymond’s brow furrowed in a deep frown. He looked at the Obsidian, then back at Wayne, confused. How could something that radiated such raw, terrifying energy be considered anything less than supreme?
"At this time, the Golden Dragon is more powerful than anything," Wayne explained, his voice hushed with a rare kind of reverence. "She is the ancient mystical made flesh. Nothing not even the king you saw could beat her in an unfair fight."
"But you can use the Obsidian to win against her," Raymond countered, stepping closer to the altar. "That’s why we’re down here, isn't it? To find the one weapon that can pierce her scales?"
Wayne turned his head slowly, a chilling, thin smile touching his lips. "The Obsidian doesn't kill the dragon, Raymond. It corrupts the soul that commands it.
"Without snatching the Psychic Demon's powers, this cannot happen," Wayne stated, his voice cold as the stone surrounding them.
"But why?" Raymond asked, his confusion deepening. "You have been imprisoned for decades, Wayne. You had the chance. Why did you never take his powers for yourself?"
Wayne let out a low, chilling laugh that transformed into an evil smirk. "Because I knew the Golden Dragon would eventually come. And now, my son has done exactly what I trained him to do—he has lured her right into our castle."
He gestured toward the pulsing black stone on the altar. "Without the Golden Dragon, the Obsidian's energy is nothing. It is a lamp without a flame, a sword without an edge."
Raymond nodded slowly, the pieces of the puzzle finally clicking into place.
The "Psychic Demon" wasn't just a monster to be feared; he was a battery. And Esperanza—the vessel of the Golden Dragon—was the missing spark they needed to ignite a power that would reshape the world.
"So," Raymond whispered, "we wait for the Dragon to wake, and then we take everything."
"That Golden Dragon has hindered himself from us for years," Wayne said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "But the wait is finally going to be over. The pieces are all on the board."
Suddenly, the deep, light-swallowing black of the Obsidian was pierced. A sharp, silver reflection began to bleed out from the center of the stone, spreading like liquid moonlight across the cavern walls. It wasn't just light; it was a cold, humming energy that vibrated in the marrow of their bones.
Wayne and Raymond didn't flinch. Instead, they leaned into it, closing their eyes as they let the silver reflection simmer over their skin. It felt like a thousand tiny needles, a baptism of ancient, dark power that masked their very souls.
Wayne opened one eye, his smirk widening as he looked at Raymond through the shimmering haze.
"That is the reason the Dragon never came to know our intentions," Wayne whispered. "This stone... it doesn't just hold power. It shrouds us. To the Golden Dragon, we are nothing but shadows in a room full of ghosts."
"Now the greatest power will be mine soon!" Wayne’s laughter erupted, a jagged, hollow sound that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the castle. The cavern shivered in response, dust falling from the ceiling like grey snow.
Raymond gave a final, disciplined nod and retreated, his shadow stretching long against the stone as he exited the underground lair.
As soon as he stepped out, the mechanism groaned. With a heavy, tectonic thud, the secret entrance sealed shut, cutting off the silver glow and leaving the Wayne room in deceptive silence.
But elsewhere, the earth began to protest.
Deep in the chambers where Orion lay, the floor began to quiver.
primal growl echoed through the masonry—not from a throat, but from the stones themselves. It was the sound of a trapped god waking up.
Orion’s eyes snapped open, his pupils slitted like a predator's.