TRAVEL BETWEEN REALMS

Chapter: The Spark of Instinct

David stood motionless in the heart of the forest, his chest rising and falling with each controlled breath. His heart wasn't pounding with dread or fear.

It was excitement.

The thrill of the unknown—the rush of danger, the pulse of conflict—awakened something deep within him. The scenario unfolding before him wasn't just a fight. It was a hunt.

And his instincts had taken over.

Buried in the blood of every true dragon was a predator—an apex force of nature bred not just to survive, but to dominate. Most dragons, especially those who lived among other races, learned to suppress those primal urges. Civilization demanded control. Blending in meant holding back. Peace required restraint.

But when battle came—when danger stripped away pretense and protocol—those instincts returned.

And in that return lay the dragon's true power.

Now, for the first time in his life, David felt that pull. That surge. That freedom.

His senses sharpened. The forest around him seemed to slow, every leaf twitch, every gust of wind, every distant heartbeat became painfully vivid. His pupils narrowed, glowing with molten gold. His breath grew heavy. His muscles coiled tighter with every step forward.

He wasn't afraid of the thief.

He was hunting her.

It wasn't that David had never fought before. He'd sparred with elite soldiers of his mother's empire—seasoned warriors, skilled mages, ancient creatures. But no matter how intense the match, there had always been an invisible safety net: a silent rule that he would never be seriously harmed.

And that knowledge had dulled his instincts.

But this was different.

There were no rules now. No safety. No holding back.

He could be wounded. He could be killed. And that danger… awakened the dragon sleeping beneath his skin.

David clenched his fists, letting the misty wings on his back flare slightly. The predator in him had tasted the thrill of pursuit, and it would not be denied.

A slow smile crept across his face—not cruel, but primal.

"Let's see how far you can run before I catch you," he whispered.

As the words left David's mouth, arcs of black lightning began to crackle across his skin—tiny at first, like sparks dancing across metal. But they grew rapidly, flaring hotter and more violently until his entire body surged with chaotic, draconic energy.

With a primal roar, he released it all in one devastating wave.

The black lightning exploded from him in a dome of raw, destructive power, a solar flare of condensed rage. It expanded outward like a storm-fed shockwave, incinerating everything in its path. Trees burst into flames, the earth cracked open, and the very air shimmered with charged particles.

From the city of Olympus, far in the distance, a dark column of smoke began to rise—a signal that something monstrous had awakened deep within the forest.

David stood at the epicenter, his breathing slow, deliberate. But his golden eyes were alight with the thrill of the hunt. This was no longer just a pursuit. It was war.

But amid the swirling flames, he didn't see the next attack coming.

From above, the thief struck like a falling star—her body a blur of motion and force. Her heel came crashing down on David's skull with enough speed to rupture the sound barrier. The blow slammed his head into the earth, the impact creating a massive crater that split the ground wide and sent shockwaves rippling through the forest floor.

Yet despite the force of the strike, David didn't fall unconscious.

His instincts were in overdrive.

Before the thief could leap away, he shot out a hand and snatched her leg mid-air—his reflexes so sharp, it caught her completely off guard.

With a savage growl, David rose and swung her like a ragdoll, slamming her into the ground with brutal precision—once, twice, three times, cratering the soil with each hit. The impact rattled the trees around them and sent dust and debris flying in every direction.

But she wasn't done.

The moment he lifted her for another slam, she retaliated, twisting her body and driving her free leg into his face with a spinning kick.

David's head jerked to the side from the blow, his neck cracking audibly. But he didn't release her.

If anything, his grip tightened—his claws digging into her ankle with enough force to draw blood.

"Not fast enough," he growled.

With his other hand, he pulled back his arm and launched a punch straight at her midsection.

She barely had time to block it with both hands—and even though she caught the strike, the sheer power behind it sent her flying backward. She landed hard, skidding across the burned earth, her palms stinging and bleeding from the impact.

She looked up, panting, her arms trembling slightly from the blow.

David stood tall, black lightning crackling across his body again, his expression unreadable but focused like a beast in his natural element.

The thief groaned softly, dust clinging to her skin as she struggled to rise. That punch—that dragon's punch—had nearly cracked her ribs. Her ankle, gripped and twisted by David's claws, throbbed with pain. Blood still trickled down her leg.

But she wasn't defeated.

Not yet.

Her crimson eyes sharpened as her thoughts raced. This boy… he hits hard enough to kill. I can't let him land another blow like that. She didn't just need strength now—she needed a plan.

Because she wasn't just any thief.

She is a Demi-god—and her blood carried the power of one of the Olympus itself.

As she concentrated, the air shimmered around her, pulsing with divine energy. Her blessing activated. Her heartbeat slowed… then sped up to impossible rhythm. The very bones in her body realigned, healed, strengthened. Torn muscle knit itself together in a fraction of a second. Her skin, scraped and bruised, smoothed over without a scar.

A glowing symbol appeared on her legs—two serpents coiled around a winged staff. The Caduceus, the mark of Hermes.

Her divine inheritance.

With a smirk, she rose to her full height, now completely restored—no trace of injury remained. Her stance was confident, predatory.

She looked straight at David, who stood like a dark monolith amidst the scorched forest, black lightning still dancing across his body.

"You've got power, little dragon," she said, her voice sharp like silver. "But do you have speed?"

And then—she was gone.

No blur. No motion trail. No sound.

Just... gone.

David's eyes widened. Even with his enhanced perception—eyes honed through centuries of draconic evolution—he couldn't track her. Not even a shimmer. No scent. No echo.

Only left a little bit of divine energy where she once stood.

His gaze narrowed, his body turning slightly as he scanned the area, tensing.

"She's not leaving a trail this time," he muttered, "She's masking everything... even her destruction."

His voice dropped into a growl.

"Divine energy."

This wasn't just a fast opponent anymore.

This was a child of a god playing on her home field.

Somewhere in the City

In a blur of divine speed, the thief reappeared within the heart of Argos, slipping into the bustling city undetected. Her destination was clear. Without hesitation, she entered the Temple of Hermes, her father's sacred ground.

The temple's marble halls shimmered with golden inlays and ancient inscriptions, echoing with quiet whispers of wind and magic. As the divine wards embraced her presence, the pendant around her neck—the prison of Albion—buzzed faintly.

"You really are a coward, aren't you?" Albion's voice rumbled from within the pendant, laced with mocking disdain. "Running straight into your daddy's temple the moment you're outmatched."

"What you call cowardice," the thief said coolly, her steps light as she made her way deeper into the sanctuary, "I call a tactical retreat. I'm not about to die over some grumpy talking jewelry."

"If you were so concerned for your life, why didn't you just return me to my son when you had the chance?" Albion demanded.

She shrugged and dropped onto a bench near the altar, resting for a moment before standing again. "Simple. I gain nothing from surrendering. For all I knew, your precious boy would've blasted me to dust anyway. Dragons aren't exactly known for mercy."

With that, she stepped into a private corridor hidden behind one of the marble columns. Only the devout children and chosen followers of Hermes could pass through this threshold.

It led into a pocket dimension—a reality created by Hermes himself. A fluid, shifting space that morphed to suit the needs of the one who entered. It could become a sanctuary for sleep, a private armory, or, in her case, a luxurious marble bathing chamber.

Steam filled the air as she disrobed and stepped into the enchanted bath, letting the warm, divine waters wash away the dirt, sweat, and blood from the battle.

From the pendant placed gently on a ledge nearby, Albion's voice grumbled again.

"so what is your name pendant." thief ask as she poured scented oils into the water.

"So… what's your name, pendant?" the thief asked lazily as she poured a stream of scented oil into the steaming bath. The aroma of myrrh and wild lilac swirled in the air.

Albion's voice emerged from the pendant with a slight grumble. "Why ask now?"

She smiled, leaning back into the divine waters. "I'm curious."

Albion countered with his own question, his voice edged with suspicion. "then answer me fast You handled my son better than most seasoned warriors. You didn't just fight him—you anticipated him. So how exactly does a 'petty thief' know how to deal with a dragon?"

The thief let out a soft chuckle. "You catch on fast for a relic trapped in jewelry."

Albion fell silent for a beat, but the weight of the silence only sharpened the moment.

Steam danced through the air as the thief closed her eyes, her body relaxing in the warmth—but her mind remained sharp. After a long pause, she spoke again, this time more intently.

"Your son… he's too powerful for his age. Dragons usually take at least a century, sometimes two, to reach their maturity. But him? He can already push someone like me to the edge—and I am divine."

Her voice echoed faintly through the marble-walled sanctuary.

"So tell me, pendant… is he the son of an Apex? Or is he one himself?"

Albion said nothing. No quip, no insult. Just the quiet hum of magic within the enchanted pendant.

The thief cracked one eye open and smirked. "Touchy subject?"

Still no reply. But the silence was telling.

"Fine. Be mysterious," she said with a shrug, then added, "But I've learned one thing in Olympus—everything has a story, and everyone has something to hide."

Albion finally broke the stillness. "You know too much about dragons for someone who isn't one."

The thief laughed, trailing a finger through the water's surface, leaving ripples behind. "If you want to survive as a thief in Olympus, you have to know everything about everyone. Dryads, demons, djinn, gods, dragons—doesn't matter. One mistake, and you're a statue. Or ash."

She tilted her head back, letting the hot water soak into her skin. "Knowledge is the only shield I trust. And speed… well, that's how I stay ahead."

Albion didn't respond. He didn't need to.

He was listening now—truly listening.

And in that silence, he realized something dangerous.

This thief wasn't ordinary.

That thought swirled in Albion's mind—dangerous, quiet, and growing louder by the second.

Meanwhile, the thief stepped out of the enchanted bath, steam trailing behind her as she dried herself and dressed in a fresh set of clothes. The garments were simple but finely tailored—a sleek tunic wrapped with a sash of celestial silver, boots laced with wing-shaped embroidery, and a hooded cloak that shimmered faintly in the divine light of the temple.

She exited the private chambers and stood in front of the temple's great archway, pausing in silence. She didn't move, didn't speak. She simply stared at the entrance, as though expecting the wind to carry someone in.

She didn't have to wait long.

A shadow crossed the temple threshold—tall, tense, and burning with fury.

David had arrived.

The moment her eyes met his, a slow, satisfied smile blossomed across her face. His expression was the opposite—cold, focused, and brimming with restrained rage. He marched down the center aisle, his boots echoing against the polished stone floor.

The second he saw her, his fists clenched. His eyes narrowed. But he didn't attack—not here. Not inside a god's domain. Assaulting a demigod inside their pantheon's temple was suicide, and David knew better than to tempt divine wrath.

Instead, he stopped just a few feet from her and spoke, voice like thunder on the verge of a storm.

"Give me my father. Now."

Her smile widened. "I would," she said sweetly, "but what do I get in return?"

David's brow furrowed, black mist already curling around his feet as his energy began to rise.

"You really think you're in a position to bargain?"

Before the tension could erupt, Albion's voice came from the pendant, tired but firm.

"David. Don't. Bargain with her. You can't fight her here."

Grinding his teeth, David slowly let the mist retract. His aura dimmed. He exhaled through his nose and folded his arms.

"Fine. What do you want?"

The thief tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Simple. I want your help. One quest. That's it. You assist me, and I return your father."

David stared at her, suspicious. "What kind of quest?"

"Oh, nothing too difficult," she said innocently. "Just a little extermination mission. A few monsters. I'll even swear by the River Styx if it makes you feel better."

David paused, evaluating her. She was slippery, unpredictable—but she hadn't lied so far. A few monsters didn't sound like much trouble.

"Alright," he said at last. "I agree."

The thief raised her hand. "Then repeat after me. I, Angelia, will not harm the other party during the quest, nor for a few days after. I will honor the deal. I swear it by the River Styx."

David nodded and echoed in return, "I, David, will not harm the other party during the quest, nor for a few days after. I will honor the deal. I swear it by the River Styx."

The moment the final word left his lips, the sky above Argos crackled with divine power. A sharp crack of thunder rang out—confirmation that the oath had been sealed.

Angelia reached into her cloak and, with a flick of her wrist, tossed the pendant toward David. "Here. Catch."

David snatched it cleanly from the air, and Albion's familiar presence immediately pulsed in his hand.

Angelia turned and began striding toward the temple's exit. "Come on," she said. "You might be protected by your bloodline, but you're still soaked in draconic magic. If the priests see you in here much longer, they'll throw you out—or worse."

David followed, quietly clipping the pendant around his neck again.

As the two exited the temple and descended the marble steps, their eyes were drawn to the skyline.

A faint red glow shimmered beyond the trees. Smoke trailed into the sky like warning beacons.

Angelia raised a brow and pointed toward the horizon. "You burned down an entire forest?"

David blinked and looked away. "I was… agitated."

She whistled. "Well, remind me not to piss you off next time."

Albion groaned from the pendant. "Next time?"