Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

"Is this the Golden Army?"

Standing before towering golden constructs, Rhodes' eyes narrowed slightly in surprise.

The sound of mechanical gears turning, golden armor engraved with intricate magical patterns—everything about these creations bore the unmistakable craftsmanship of the goblin clan.

"Tens of thousands of years ago... had the goblins already mastered technology this advanced? Ridiculous," Rhodes murmured, unable to reconcile the past with the present.

Before he could think further, the golden constructs began moving, their heavy, mechanical limbs forming a siege. Cold weapons gleamed as they were raised high, poised to strike.

Boom!

The ground quaked as a massive axe cleaved into the icy terrain. But Rhodes was no longer there. His figure flickered, reappearing behind one of the constructs.

"Commandment: Respect the Divine!"

A resounding voice echoed, carrying divine authority. But to Rhodes' mild annoyance, the golden constructs did not falter.

Boom!

More weapons descended in unison, their sheer force threatening to crush anything in their path. Yet, before the blades could land, they were shredded to pieces by a hurricane-like force surrounding Rhodes.

"Useless." Rhodes shook his head, his tone calm yet disdainful. "These things... puppets crafted with magic and machinery. Why would they heed divine commandments?"

"If that's the case," he continued, his fingertips glowing with radiant light, "I'll solve this the old-fashioned way."

In a flash, the brilliance from his fingers tore through the constructs. Golden bodies shattered, their remains melting into a strange liquid that began pooling together.

Then, from the shimmering pool, a new construct arose—a golden puppet, towering and menacing, its aura far surpassing the previous ones.

"So they merge to grow stronger?" Rhodes muttered as he observed the transformation.

The new puppet exuded an energy approaching legendary levels, a stark contrast to its weaker predecessors.

"Then I'll test you properly."

With a flick of his wrist, Rhodes summoned a brilliant sun.

Boom!

The golden construct was engulfed in scorching heat. The ancient ice beneath their feet, untouched for millennia, began to melt, though it would take centuries for such deep frost to thaw completely.

The golden puppet burned, but the liquid reformed yet again. With every destruction, it reassembled stronger, merging with more of its kin.

After the second fusion, the puppet reached the legendary tier. By the third, all remaining constructs had transformed, their combined power pushing the limits of what Rhodes had ever faced.

"Impressive vitality," Rhodes muttered, watching as the golden constructs struggled against the ceaseless inferno.

But even legends were no match for the eternal flames of the sun.

After four or five cycles, most of the constructs had been incinerated, leaving only ten golden puppets radiating the aura of the Holy Domain. Their rebirths slowed, the once-limitless resilience now faltering.

"They're creations of mortals, after all," Rhodes remarked, extinguishing his sunfire with a thought. "These constructs can only sustain so much power before their material limits give out."

Indeed, no matter the design, there was an upper threshold to what the materials could endure. Perhaps it was the craftsmanship, or perhaps the creators never intended for them to surpass the Holy Domain. Either way, their limits were clear.

Growing impatient, Rhodes raised his hand, his magic shifting. The radiance of the sun intertwined with the darkness of the abyss, forming a spear imbued with destructive energy.

"Let this end."

The spear flew, piercing the last puppet. The overwhelming force rendered the golden construct utterly motionless, its form collapsing into molten gold.

From the golden pool, a pure, resplendent scepter emerged. Intricate patterns glowed on its surface, emanating an aura of wealth and authority.

"So this is the prize," Rhodes murmured, stepping forward to grasp the scepter.

In that moment, the liquid gold surged up his arm, encasing his body. In mere breaths, he was clad in radiant golden armor, a flowing cape draped over his shoulders, and a crown resting upon his brow.

"Does this mean I command the Golden Army now?"

Testing his newfound power, Rhodes lightly stamped his foot.

"Rise, my soldiers."

Whoosh!

The golden liquid spread like a tide, painting the ground in a brilliant hue. From its depths, giant golden constructs began emerging one by one.

The army of puppets knelt in unison, lowering their heads toward Rhodes in submission.

"It seems Count Ettel's efforts weren't in vain," Rhodes mused, his gaze turning toward the massive dark gate looming behind the Golden Army.

If the Golden Scepter was the key, then what lay beyond this door?

Count Ettel had orchestrated everything to bring Rhodes here. There were only two possibilities:

One, Ettel was a madman bent on world domination, using the Golden Army to conquer the nations. But in a world governed by gods, even such an army would pale against divine power.

Two, Ettel sought something deeper within this frozen abyss—something worth risking everything for.

Rhodes approached the gate, its surface etched with ancient lines and faint divine energy. At its center was a fist-sized indentation, perfectly shaped to fit the Golden Scepter.

"A level gate? How absurd," Rhodes muttered, sliding the scepter into place.

The door rumbled as it unlocked, light spilling forth as it slowly opened.

Beyond the threshold lay darkness—a vast cavern shrouded in shadow.

Suddenly, twin icy-blue pupils glimmered within the gloom.

Whoosh!

A torrent of frostfire erupted toward Rhodes, but he remained unfazed. The flames parted harmlessly as they neared him, deflected by an unseen force.

"Playing with fire? In front of me?"

With a smirk, Rhodes conjured a miniature sun and hurled it into the darkness.

The cavern exploded in light, revealing the attacker—a massive dragon bound in chains.

Its azure scales gleamed like crystal, its enormous wings folded behind its back. Yet its majesty was marred by the countless chains etched with divine seals, pinning it in place.

"A demigod dragon..."

For the first time, Rhodes felt a flicker of genuine interest.

Bound by so many gods, sealed for countless eons—this creature was both tragic and terrifying.

"So, you were left here as a watchdog," Rhodes mused, his gaze shifting to the chained beast. "Whoever imprisoned you must have feared what lay beyond this door. But don't worry. I'll uncover their secrets soon enough."

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