57th of Season of Fire, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

Despite his best efforts, Newt had failed to find hidden compartments or anything similar in the chamber containing the Salamandra family's skill repository. Assuming his ancestor had left any clues regarding his odd choice of defensive spell formations, they were entrusted to the tomes hidden behind barriers.

Should I try to crack the seal? Newt wondered for the tenth time that afternoon when Stronggrow entered his tent.

"Things are getting more serious." Stronggrow nervously twirled the end of his beard. "A pack of second realm raptors attacked Marrow's patrol. They suffered two injuries, thankfully no fatalities."

Newt regarded his aged teacher, the bags beneath his eyes, the slight twitches at the corner of his left eye caused by too much stress and too many things he had faced in the past twelve days.

"Should I head out?" Poor Newt could only opportunistically offer help.

"Unfortunately, Marrow and I are merely mages. We could fight third realm manabeasts one on one, but not swarms of weaker ones." Stronggrow's fists tightened. "Our reaction times are fine, but our bodies can't keep up with our senses against that many manabeasts."

Stronggrow lowered his gaze. "I'm deeply ashamed of myself, but we simply can't keep up."

Newt moved like the wind and grabbed him in a hug. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, I wanted to be out there, but you had me lock—stationed here."

"You're just a child, Newstar."

"I'm nineteen! And a peak third realm mageknight. My place is hunting invading saurians, not keeping ledgers… Not that I minded keeping a ledger. It was exciting, very dynamic—"

"Newstar," Stronggrow chuckled despite trying to appear serious. "Stop mocking me."

"I would never. At most, I would criticize your decision to keep the clan's greatest and humblest combat asset focused on bookkeeping."

Stronggrow opened his mouth to speak, but distant thunder boomed and kept booming.

"Ancestor!" Newt caught the mana-infused howl mixed with what he realized were enraged roars, not thunder.

Glaive in hand, he dashed out of the tent, Stronggrow and measly second realm raptors forgotten. The sky was clear, not a cloud drifting by. Heart drumming, Newt hopped from wall to wall, climbing towards the castle's highest tower, and there he saw it. Far in the west, where the roars were coming from, the sky burned.

"Find the ancestor's legacy!" thunder roared.

Newt strained his eyes, focusing on the distance, until he finally spotted slim shapes within the red haze. They flew above the jungle towards the human lands. Two, five, seven… Newt counted. Eleven big enough to spot from over here.

Newt knew what he was seeing. Massive flying manabeasts he could spot from dozens or hundreds of miles away, with voice and aura which carried across such enormous distances.

"Dragons," Stronggrow muttered, blood draining from his face. "A conflagration of dragons. I thought those were just children's stories."

What kind of destruction can a conflagration of dragons cause if Magmin from my vision could reshape the countryside all by himself?

"There are dozens of them," Stronggrow kept muttering, "We can only hope they don't turn towards us, but wherever they are headed is gone. Without the royals moving on them in full force, they will burn everything in their path."

"Find the legacy! Matriarch commands us! Nothing matters save for her Sire's legacy!"

Newt struggled for breath. The conflagration was after him and their family's mine. Should they find out…

"Newstar! Newstar!" Stronggrow shook him, and Newt looked at his teacher's disheveled face. "You must flee this place. The buildings are dead, but people are alive. If you survive, you can rebuild the clanhold, make it even better."

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"I'm not going anywhere. I was running for moons, I'm not running again." Stronggrow glared at him, but Newt resolutely shook his head. "I am the patriarch, by your own choice."

"Now is not the time to be stubborn!"

"It isn't, Teacher. There's no reason to think I would be safer on the road than I am here. In fact, they don't seem to be heading here at all."

Indeed, they weren't. Newt estimated the manabeasts were heading straight for the place where heaven's wrath had smitten him less than two weeks ago.

"They might not," Stronggrow agreed before continuing. "But frenzied manabeasts will spew from the jungle, driven to madness by the dragons. Then they will attack everything in their madness. They might attack us instead of rushing deeper into the kingdom."

"And the clan will need my help to hold the walls. Gatemaster said he would send reinforcements, and they should be arriving today."

Stronggrow didn't like it, but he nodded.

They just stood there, the awkward silence stretching.

"What now?" Newt asked.

"I've been asking myself the same question, but I don't know. Wisdom of the ancients says go out and hunt the manabeasts, but a stampede of high realm monsters might run out of the jungle at any moment."

"In that case, I'm going." Newt preferred action over waiting behind the walls and waiting for the situation to resolve itself one way or the other. "I can handle fourth realm manabeasts on my own, and based on what the gatemaster had said, I can probably handle an attack by fifth realm ones well enough to escape."

Newt wanted to go, but couldn't tear his gaze away from the dragons. "Teacher?"

"Yes?"

"I thought nobody had ever seen the dragons of Summersweald and Autumnsweald."

Stronggrow shrugged. "I thought they were all legendary beasts dwelling deep in the wealds. I don't know anything specific about historical sightings."

Just like that, Newt was reminded of how much education in a peak order was worth compared to anything available outside. Even the library access had more available information than those much older than him could encounter outside.

"All right, I'm off. I'll return if I see anything truly dangerous."

Stronggrow clenched his fists, then bowed to his patriarch. "Take care. Your safety is paramount."

Newt flashed a smile and flames, jumping off the tower and gliding down the mountain in search of manabeasts while dragons screeched warnings and orders. Fortunately, it sounded like the conflagration wasn't leading the other saurians.

The dragons had a singular goal - finding their ancestor's legacy, remains or anything similar.

It sounds like the one who had sent them was the Matriarch, presumably Magmin's daughter.

As Newt looked at the dragons, they had reached a spot in the jungle, flying around it in circles, fanning out in sudden silence.

"Into the lands of the scaleless! The remnant aura leads into the lands of the scaleless!"

The conflagration roared, and like a giant arrow, they soared towards the border, piercing for the heart of the empire.

This is really bad. If they can follow the gatemaster's trail, they will be upon us in a matter of hours, and if they can follow his trail, they can follow each and every one of us.

Newt shuddered. Unbidden, the scene of dozens of dragons chasing him and every last of his clansmen entered his mind and wouldn't leave.

There's no point in worrying. Those dragons are at least at the seventh realm. There's no escape, should they pursue us.

Newt forced himself to look away and focus on the plains before him. As expected, a veritable horde of saurians fled the jungle, maddened by terror from apex predators roaring and hunting.

A stampede trampled the outlying farms, but unfortunately, Stronggrow's words didn't prove true.

Instead of heading away from the mountain to avoid entrapping themselves against steep cliffs, saurians fled towards it, away from the enraged conflagration of dragons. Newt observed a dozen trihorns rush out of the jungle, trampling those too slow to move out of their way.

The beasts were headed straight for Harthrow, and Newt watched them, gritting his teeth. Even non-awakened, trihorns were fourth realm equivalent beasts, bordering on fifth. At least in terms of strength and endurance. The beasts were slow and lacked intelligence, but that only limited the danger; it didn't remove it entirely.

On the other hand, even if he saved the town today, the end of the onslaught would see it razed, especially with the dragons around. Newt knew it. It was rational and logical to just let them cause mayhem and kill them while they were busy, but it was the town he had spent a part of his childhood in, a town with happy memories, and Newt dove towards the small herd.

I might not be able to protect it tomorrow, but I sure as hell won't let them tear it down right in front of me.

Newt's emerald glaive pierced the saurian's skull. The bone cracked, and the glowing green blade sank into the brain, killing it before it noticed Newt. He jumped and ended another two before the rest of the herd reacted. The herd leader, a third realm manabeast, screeched, and the beasts stopped, forming a ring of horns with military practice.

The beasts stood rear to rear, ready for predators, but horribly under-prepared for a small human with a sharp blade.

Newt butchered the confused creatures in two minutes, his high-realm weapon piercing scales and bone without difficulty.

He sprang off his final kill, the pack leader herself, propelling himself up into the air and taking stock of the situation.

There's dozens of them, and some are already fighting amongst themselves. Newt sighed. This is going to be a long day.

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