Zen wanders around with his new-found master. Zen brought up the topic of his summoning scroll and asked him about it. His sensei saw the scroll and said this was a different script. This is the Lóngtóng language.
Hiroshi's keen eyes widened as he unfurled the weathered parchment, studying the intricate script etched in Lóngtóng, the language of dragons. His fingers traced the delicate lines of characters that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly aura. "This is no ordinary scroll, Zen," Hiroshi murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "Lóngtóng hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It's said to be the language of ancient dragonkind, imbued with their wisdom and power."
Zen nodded, excitement and trepidation coursing through him. "I found it buried beneath the ground," he explained, recalling the thrill of discovery amidst the dusty ruins. "The air was thick with the echoes of history."
Hiroshi chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Hahaha, a true adventurer's tale indeed. You've stumbled upon something remarkable, Zen."
"But what does the scroll reveal?" Zen asked eagerly, his gaze fixed on Hiroshi, the anticipation palpable in the crisp mountain air.
"To summon a creature using Lóngtóng, we must perform a special ritual," Hiroshi replied, his tone grave yet tinged with fascination. "It requires reverence and precision. The essence of the language must be spoken with utmost clarity and respect for its ancient origins."
"The ritual begins with a chant," Hiroshi instructed, his voice resonating with authority. "You must invoke the spirit of the creature, calling upon its essence locked within the scroll."
With a deep breath, Zen closed his eyes and began to intone the ancient words of Lóngtóng. Each syllable resonated with intent and reverence. The forest seemed to hold its breath, leaves whispering secrets of ages past as Zen's voice rose and fell in rhythm with the ritual's ancient cadence.
As the last echo of his chant faded into the ether, a shimmering light enveloped the clearing, coalescing into the form of the summoned creature described in the scroll. Its eyes gleamed with ancient wisdom, and its presence filled the air with palpable energy that resonated deep within Zen's soul.
"You've done well, Zen," Hiroshi murmured, a smile gracing his weathered features. "The bond between summoner and summoned is forged through reverence and understanding. Remember this moment, for it marks your journey into the realms of ancient magic and mythical creatures."
Hiroshi and Zen entered a heightened state of consciousness, their spirits intertwining in a realm where reality blurred with the ethereal. In this transcendental space, they encountered a majestic dragon-shaped entity shimmering with scales of iridescent blue and silver.
"Hmm," Hiroshi mused, his voice resonating with reverence as he regarded the dragon.
Zen approached the dragon cautiously, aware of its immense size and power. Hiroshi's words echoed in his mind—develop a contract with the dragon. But how does one form a bond with such a majestic creature? Unsure yet determined, Zen stepped closer, keeping his posture respectful.
"Great dragon," Zen began, his voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through him. "I am Zen, a practitioner of the elemental arts. I seek to understand and perhaps ally with you if you deem me worthy."
The dragon regarded Zen with eyes that shimmered like ancient gemstones.
"I seek strength," Zen replied honestly, "not just for myself, but to protect those I care about and to uphold balance in this world. If you would permit me to learn from you and share in your wisdom, I offer my loyalty and respect."
The dragon considered Zen's words, its gaze piercing yet contemplative. After a long moment, it spoke again, its voice resonating deep within Zen's soul.
"Strength is not merely in power but in understanding," the dragon said, its tone carrying a hint of approval. "If you wish to forge a bond, prove to me your resolve."
"I accept your challenge," Zen declared, meeting the dragon's gaze unwaveringly. "Guide me, teach me, and together, let us discover the true meaning of strength."
The dragon inclined its head slightly, a gesture that Zen interpreted as acknowledgement. He felt a surge of excitement and apprehension mingled within him, knowing that this moment marked the beginning of a profound journey—a journey that would shape not only his abilities but also his destiny.
As Zen stood before the dragon, ready to embark on this new path, he silently vowed to honor the trust being placed in him.
Hiroshi observed from a distance as Zen and the dragon stood facing each other, the air thick with anticipation and possibility. To Zen's surprise, the dragon began to shift, its massive form gradually transforming into that of a humanoid figure. The transformation was awe-inspiring, revealing a being of immense stature and presence yet unmistakably still bearing the dragon's regal essence.
"This is a SS-ranking dragon, one of great potential," Hiroshi murmured to himself, marveling at the rarity of the sight before him. "If Zen can forge a bond with such a creature, he will possess a power that few can comprehend."
"This is a rare treat indeed," Hiroshi mused aloud, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and encouragement. "If this dragon chooses to ally with you, Zen, you will have the potential to conquer not just the seven seas but realms beyond."
Zen, still respectful yet resolute, absorbed Hiroshi's words. "I am honored," Zen replied, his voice steady with determination. "I will strive to prove myself worthy of this dragon's trust and guidance."
As a welcome gift, Zen gives the dragon the axe he obtained after defeating the summon. The dragon promises to assist you in times of need. The dragon is still a baby. Hiroshi informs Zens about the requirements for summonings and the guidelines to be followed after they come out of the state of consciousness.
Zen asked his sensei Hiroshi, "Why did you choose me as your disciple?" as they continued. In response, Hiroshi said, "I did it because of your unique eyes." Do you know about my eyes? startled Zen. Yes, he responded in response, adding, "I'll tell you about your eyes later."
Meanwhile, under the scorching desert sun, Yun and Pali continued their rigorous training. Sweat dripped down their faces as they focused intensely on honing their skills.
Pali, with his keen eye and unwavering patience, instructed Yun with a firm yet encouraging tone. "Child, do you want to take a break?" he asked, concern lining his voice.
"No, sir," Yun replied resolutely, determination flashing in his eyes. "I shall keep on going."
Pali nodded approvingly, acknowledging Yun's dedication. "You must master the Swift Bow Release technique," he emphasized, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It requires precision and swiftness. Clear your mind, feel the essence flow through you, and let your movements become one with the wind."
Yun nodded, absorbing Pali's guidance. He adjusted his stance, focusing his mind on the technique. The air around them seemed to hold its breath as Yun drew his bow, his movements fluid and controlled. With a swift release, the arrow soared through the desert air, hitting its target with precision.
Pali smiled faintly, a rare expression of approval. "Good," he said simply. "Again."
And so they continued, the desert becoming their training ground, each moment pushing Yun closer to mastering not only the technique but also the essence of his own potential.
On the other hand, under the secluded mountain peaks where the Emei sect practiced their arts, Yawen immersed herself in rigorous training. The air was crisp with the scent of pine, and the sound of wind rushing through the trees became her constant companion.
Guided by the formidable sect leader known for her mastery of frost blades, Yawen's days were filled with intense discipline and solitary meditation. In the mornings, she would rise before the sun, practicing her swordplay with twin blades that glinted like shards of ice in the dawn's light.
Under her watchful eye, Yawen honed her skills in silence, learning the intricate forms of the Emei sect's techniques. Each movement became more fluid, each strike more precise, as she delved deeper into the essence of her own strength.
Their promise to meet three years later, the friends diverged in their own ways.