Chaos Maker: The Wanderer

In the clear blue sky, fluffy clouds drift lazily by, while the sun shines brightly at its zenith, bathing the day in warm, radiant light. Beyond this beautiful expanse lies a colossal, otherworldly planet dominating the horizon. Its stunning purple hues add an ethereal beauty to the already breathtaking scene.

On the ground below stretches an ancient, sprawling forest teeming with life. Towering trees of countless species stand as timeless sentinels, their interwoven canopies forming a vibrant green tapestry. Beneath their shelter thrive myriad forms of life, each playing its part in the forest's thriving ecosystem.

Mushrooms of all kinds sprout in the shadows. Some glow softly in the dim light, others grow to remarkable sizes, and still more display peculiar shapes and vivid colors. Edible or toxic, they contribute to the forest's balance, serving as sustenance for other creatures while adapting to survive.

Exotic plants dot the landscape, ranging from medicinal herbs hidden in plain sight to dangerous flora thriving in perilous corners of the forest—such as caves filled with serpents, monster-infested lakes, treetops where carnivorous birds nest and plains patrolled by herds of formidable Red Deer.

The forest is alive with monsters. Goblins scavenge and hunt, dragons toy with their prey, wyverns soar majestically overhead, and mountain-sized turtles lumber through the woods, leaving trails of destruction in their wake. Far off on the horizon, to be precise hundreds of trillions of miles away—a titanic silhouette moves. The gargantuan creature resembles a mammoth but is far more colossal, standing at an unfathomable 3 trillion miles tall. With eight legs, three tails, and enormous tusks and trunks, its fur-covered body dwarfs everything in sight, a living monument to the incomprehensible vastness of this world.

Together, these sights create a fantastical tableau, a scene so stunning that no painting could hope to capture its full splendor.

Amidst this awe-inspiring panorama, a silhouette streaks across the sky, breaking the sound barrier and leaving thunderous booms in its wake. The figure is a dragon, its emerald scales shimmering like polished gemstones under the sunlight. Each powerful beat of its colossal wings parts the clouds as if nature itself yields to its dominance. Its piercing golden eyes gaze forward with ancient wisdom and unshakable authority. Jagged horns curve back from its head, and its long, barbed tail slices the air like a whip. As it flies, the wind carries an ominous hum, and its immense shadow strikes awe and fear into all who see it. This is a creature of legend, commanding respect and silence wherever it roams.

On its broad back lies a human, casually reclined with a relaxed demeanor. Dressed entirely in black—a long coat, shirt, pants, and boots—and with a sword hanging at his side, the man exudes an air of mystery. A closed third eye sits vertically on his forehead, adding an otherworldly quality to his already striking appearance.

This unusual duo is none other than John and Rekno, the Wind Dragon.

It has been five hours since I began traveling with Rekno to the Old World. By my calculations, if we maintain this speed, we'll arrive in just a couple more hours. Despite holding back his full strength, this dragon flies at an impressive pace, effortlessly covering over a million miles in mere hours.

With two hours remaining until we reach our destination, boredom creeps in. To stave off the temptation to do something reckless—something that might terrify my mount and disrupt our journey—I decide to take a nap. Slowly, I close my eyes and drift into the solace of sleep.

When I wake, Rekno's voice greets me.

"We're here," he announces.

I sit up and turn my gaze ahead. In the distance, a massive grey wall rises like a fortress built by Titans. Its surface stretches endlessly in both directions, an impenetrable barrier encircling the Old World. The wall is composed of some unknown material, impervious to both time and force. It towers into the clouds, casting a cold, unyielding shadow over the vast grasslands below. Smooth and seamless, without a single crack or blemish, the wall exudes an aura of eternal strength—a monument to resilience and permanence.

"Thanks. You can go now," I say, grinning.

Rekno snorts, flapping his massive wings. The gust of wind uproots trees in the distance and stirs up a swirling cloud of dust. I can't help but comment, "You're the first dragon I've seen with such terrible control over his strength."

A tick mark appears on Rekno's head, and I can feel his simmering irritation. He wants to retaliate but knows better. With an indignant snort, he turns away and takes off, disappearing into the sky without another word.

I watch him vanish before shifting my attention to the monumental wall ahead. It looms over the horizon, an imposing guardian of the Old World hidden within. Without hesitation, I begin my journey toward it, ready to face whatever awaits on the other side.