📅🌊☀️[Aglar Era. Year 998. August 26. Wednesday]｜🔔 [06:00]｜🔎 [-]｜⚫
[-｜-｜-]
🎁[None｜-]

The morning of the year 998 of the Aglar Era began in a silence so peaceful it was almost agonizing. In the center of the continent, the golden laurel rooted in the gardens of Idun shimmered with leaves that would never wither, scattering sunlight in all directions. The white cliffs of Aglar, catching that light, sparkled like jewels. The meltwater from the eternal snows of Tir na nOg flowed through the valleys with a clear, melodic sound, while five-colored clouds drifted slowly over the sea of clouds in Rome, creating a spectacle like a traditional ink wash painting. The rule of the dragons, which had lasted for thousands of years, was as natural as the air itself, and the world was letting out a lazy yawn beneath those massive wings. An era of great peace, free from war and famine. It seemed so solid that it would never break.

However, beneath the surface of that solid peace, the air of the southeastern continent, Raon, was tinged with a metallic scent of blood that refused to be washed away. The libraries of Seohyang, the city of scholars, remained moderate, and the tea water of the ceremonies boiled fragrantly, yet a strange tension lingered in the streets. People's gazes met anxiously in the air before quickly scattering. What happened deep within the imperial palace of Raon three days ago was already becoming a sticky rumor subverting the continent, even though not a single official proclamation had been posted.

The heart of Raijin, the ruling dragon of Raon—an absolute being considered nearly immortal—had been pierced by a human blade. That fact was more surreal than any natural disaster. The unprecedented word 'Dragonslayer' spread from mouth to mouth like a plague. The red bloodstains on the lush flower beds had already been wiped away, but the metallic scent remaining there flowed down the rivers of Raon, stimulating the nostrils of the entire continent. The world continued to turn as if it were still peaceful, but it was merely the stillness before a storm, or the chilling silence while a corpse grows cold.