Rosetta Large Scale City Ruins

Irral's head shifted slightly as he sensed whatever the source of the energy was fighting back against him, and his Lance dropped into his hand. Sensing the impending danger and darkness gathering to combat the purity of his Light, Irral let his power flare out. Coincidentally, as he did, the Poison Dragon unleashed its breath attack of poison. With a twirl of his Lance and yet another orb of light in his hand, Irral this time released the orb into the cloud of toxic gasses, and clenched that hand into a fist. The orb expanded exponentially, encapsulating the gasses within it as best it could, before it too was purified, turning into what could be equated to golden pixie dust. What gasses it did not purify were dissipated naturally, but Irral still avoided the gas.

Two pairs of great, hauntingly beautiful wings freed themselves from Irral's back. They were golden in color, with streaks of purple and white. They began to flap, slowly at first, as Irral let out a rumbling growl. "Insolent child. Challenging the Champion of Light, the All-Mother of Dragons." he scolded as he began to lift off the ground. Noticing the gathering storm, Irral's entire body became cloaked in Golden Flames, wicks of purple tainting the beauty as the melody of trumpets and Harps rang out from his body, and he shot up into the sky with one mighty flap of his wings.

Entering the clouds, Irral's power flared once more, and he let out a mighty roar, the sound drowning out the sound of the forming storm, as the Clouds likewise began to part, and glow with golden light. The area was fighting against the purifying magic of Irral, but he was not going to lose.

In fact, he was hardly trying at all right now.

The Dragon that flew by, unless it came around for another attack, would be let go for now. The Purification Magic reacted to Irral's power flaring, and began to work harder against the Dark energies, spreading faster and proving to be more effective. Gold began to form on the surface of the ground. Pure Gold. The sounds of harps playing in a beautiful melody rang true all around Millen as Irral's influence spread.

After a while, the Dragon returned to the ground, the Storm calmed. His wings glowed bright, and then shattered like glass, vanishing as he shook his body as if shivering, and then looked back to Millen, almost as if asking for his input.

As if reacting, the structure of the magic itself began to change to Irral's attempts to purify it, altering its very nature and structure to render it inoperable against it. In addition, a huge Negative Field came as a response, along with a Reactive Enchant Code built into it.

Or to simply matters, it altered itself, absorbed the power, took it, and then reflected it back, as well as creating a zone in which holy power was weakened. Whatever was in this city, it appeared that it was not something run of the mill, something that could be found on a whim. This was ancient, powerful, extreme. Its very nature could be altered at its own whim, just to change its attribute. It had gone from being some sort of evil magic, and turned into something entirely different. Its true nature was beyond Good and Evil classification.

It was unique. And it was reacting.

"I see now...so this is why the city has not been destroyed" Millen mentioned, observing the surroundings. "It looks like the city itself has some sort of weird protection on it. The more power that is used, the more power will be used to counter. And it will alter itself just to fight back against it....consequently, it appears to only be capable of reacting. If one stops posing a threat to it, then maybe it will settle down? Well, at least thats a theory. It might consume you...just what did they use to build this city....or, maybe a better question is, what did they build this city on top of?"

As if annoyed by his questions, rifts in space and time opened up, and Eldritch Horrors leapt out. To the untrained mind, even looking at one would give headaches and possibly cause madness, but leaving aside Irral was a light dragon and known as "The First Son", and Millen being a creature who would survive the end of the world, they really didn't have anyone there who would be susceptable to that kind of madness.

If Millen had to say was the most annoying of Eldritch Horrors, it was they played outside the normal rules of reality, even by Origin standards. Because of that, even though they looked like small fry, Millen kept his guard up. Plus, he wasn't a total moron. But, it was entirely possible Eldritch Horrors had some attack that could affect either one of them....

...or they might just be small fry, and there was nothing to worry about. So Millen just decided to leave that all for later and cast Arch-Mage class magic to wipe them out.

This insolent world was fighting back against him. It summoned Eldritch monsters to swarm him and strengthened its resistance against his purifying Light. Interesting, he thought. For a moment he stood still, not reacting to the presence of the eldritch horrors which appeared. If they were here, there was a larger, more powerful being nearby commanding them. Very rarely did peons such as these act on their own.

Another orb of light appeared in his palm, and he aimed it upwards, before opening his hand fully. The orb shot into the sky, compressing itself exponentially until, twenty meters up, it exploded. An Area-of-Effect Meteor shower of Light Fire rained down across the landscape. The explosions were equivalent to 500lb bombs detonating on impact, shaking the ground and sending shockwaves of purification through the area, and further into the resisting planet, bolstering his present magic.

Irral would draw out the source of this corruption, or find it himself. One Eldritch horror approached him, stopping ten feet away, beginning to claw at its heart and head, assuming it had them, and screaming in pain. Irral's very presence was harming them, similar to how they would assault the mind of any lesser being. Turning towards it, Irral grabbed it in a flash, and lifted it up. A low, rumbling Draconian growl grugled from Irral's throat as he peered at the creature.

"Show me your Master, that the coward may face purification." he commanded. His voice echoed with his ancient and holy power. Translations of every language echoed behind his words, giving it a multi-layered texture, further amplifying his authority with each word.

To think, that this mighty Dragon was nothing but a mere old man two years ago, wandering the streets and talking to himself, living in an abandoned barn with naught but a bird to talk to. Now he was healed, albeit still corrupted, and back in spades. Irral was stronger than ever and he knew it.

But would these Eldritch horrors recognize his absolution?

This insolent world was fighting back against him. It summoned Eldritch monsters to swarm him and strengthened its resistance against his purifying Light. Interesting, he thought. For a moment he stood still, not reacting to the presence of the eldritch horrors which appeared. If they were here, there was a larger, more powerful being nearby commanding them. Very rarely did peons such as these act on their own.

Another orb of light appeared in his palm, and he aimed it upwards, before opening his hand fully. The orb shot into the sky, compressing itself exponentially until, twenty meters up, it exploded. An Area-of-Effect Meteor shower of Light Fire rained down across the landscape. The explosions were equivalent to 500lb bombs detonating on impact, shaking the ground and sending shockwaves of purification through the area, and further into the resisting planet, bolstering his present magic.

Irral would draw out the source of this corruption, or find it himself. One Eldritch horror approached him, stopping ten feet away, beginning to claw at its heart and head, assuming it had them, and screaming in pain. Irral's very presence was harming them, similar to how they would assault the mind of any lesser being. Turning towards it, Irral grabbed it in a flash, and lifted it up. A low, rumbling Draconian growl grugled from Irral's throat as he peered at the creature.

"Show me your Master, that the coward may face purification." he commanded. His voice echoed with his ancient and holy power. Translations of every language echoed behind his words, giving it a multi-layered texture, further amplifying his authority with each word.

To think, that this mighty Dragon was nothing but a mere old man two years ago, wandering the streets and talking to himself, living in an abandoned barn with naught but a bird to talk to. Now he was healed, albeit still corrupted, and back in spades. Irral was stronger than ever and he knew it.

But would these Eldritch horrors recognize his absolution?

After a deafening silence, Irral snorted, and spat on the ground. Twirling his Lance, he slammed the end into the ground, and vanished with a flash of light, heading to a planet with more Magic.