Avalon held up his hand, a gesture that halted the man's proposal. "No need for haste. He is not one to remain stationary. By now, he has likely moved to a different location." A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "His ability to shatter a weapon crafted by a divine entity is a feat I've never encountered. We shall wait for him to reveal himself, and then we shall strike with precision.""Should we involve the Four Alkaldrias in the search?" the man asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.Avalon shook his head decisively. "The history of animosity between Heroes and Prehendrins is well-documented. We shall not inform them of the missing weapon, but we can share Zeomora's image. It may expedite the process.""My Lord," a soldier announced, bowing low, "the smugglers captured by the Prehendrins have arrived."The king's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Prepare them for immediate questioning."The soldier hesitated for a moment before replying, "I'm afra

He took a step forward, but the dragon's voice halted him."No, retreat for now," the dragon cautioned. "A confrontation with them would be unwise. They would seize the opportunity to capture you, leaving you without a chance to escape."Zeomora cast one last glance at the skyship before turning and fleeing into the wilderness.Avalon, observing the scene from the skyship, raised his hand, signalling his subordinates to stand down. "Let him go for now," he commanded. "Pursuing him would be akin to playing into his hands. The opportune moment will arise when he will be forced to make a desperate choice: fight or perish."Minutes later, Zeomora stumbled into a rocky terrain, his breath ragged from exertion. He paused, leaning against a large boulder, his hands trembling as he assessed his injuries."I am strong," he muttered to himself, "but I need to become even stronger."A deafening roar echoed through the air, snapping him out of his reverie. He looked up to see a monstrous wild boa

With grim resolve, the dragon summoned the 'Grip Crusher', a dark hand materializing above the guardian and crushing its head with finality. As the guardian crumbled before him, Zeomora's senses returned, and the battle was won but at great cost. The dragon stood, a lone figure amidst the fading echoes of conflict, having emerged victorious from the crucible of battle.Collapsed on the ground, his body weary and battered from the fierce battle, Zeomora struggled to catch his breath. Despite the restorative effects of a healing potion, exhaustion weighed heavily upon him, a testament to the intensity of the conflict.Surveying the looming cave entrance, Zeomora's gaze narrowed with determination. "At dawn, after we've rested, we must venture into the cave," he declared, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.The dragon, his companion, and ally, nodded in agreement, his eyes glinting with a warrior's resolve. "Agreed, we shall gather our provisions and depart swiftly," he affirmed, t