The Giant King
Whoosh.
The enormous something took a deep breath, and the thick mist swirling around it vanished in an instant.
“Wao…”
The exclamation wasn’t quite an exclamation—it was more like the sheer surprise bursting out of me.
It wasn’t just a hill.
It wasn’t even a massive rock mountain.
That was truly a peak-sized dragon.
As the mist cleared, what emerged wasn’t a creature but something that looked like terrain itself.
The first thing that caught my eye was the head.
It alone was huge enough to match a whole cliff.
The horns stretching back from its forehead were long and thick like a mountain ridge.
At the tips of the horns lay patterns as if ancient winds had chiseled them, with white mist still clinging between the grooves like threads.
A triple set of eyes was embedded deep into the front and sides of its colossal head.
‘…Six eyes all by itself?’
That was even scarier.
Just one of them was the size of several humans stacked together, and the pupils—dark and glossy—looked like slicing through storm clouds under a hazy sky.
Every slow blink of those eyelids pushed the mist on top of them like waves.
I knew those eyes had been floating in the mist just moments ago, yet seeing them fully revealed now stole my breath.
My gaze dropped lower.
The neck was short but impossibly thick.
Words like “pillar” fell short.
It was a towering mountain carved into a tower, black and purple scales evoking rain-soaked steel and damp cliffs.
Each scale was the size of a large shield, etched with ancient scars and weathered patterns between them.
Water streaks frozen into patterns across its body made it look like the years themselves had become its shell.
And the shoulders.
From those shoulders alone, the word “dragon” barely felt real.
The shoulders stretched out like a mountain spine, and the wings folded over them formed another entire landscape.
Six enormous wings, even folded, created valleys and cliffs.
The outermost wings spread wide like canyon walls, while the inner ones grew thicker and heavier in layered tiers.
The membranes looked like tough fabric, but the wind slipping between them never stopped.
Fierce gusts raced along the wing bones, condensing moisture into mist, and friction sparked tiny blue lightning bolts.
Only then did I understand.
The storm wasn’t wrapping around the dragon.
The storm was born from those very wings.
“Is that… a dragon?”
I whispered it so quietly that the dragon’s three pairs of eyes calmly turned downward.
Exactly toward us.
Me.
Alduin.
Masor.
The moment one of those gazes settled, every hair on my body stood on end.
It wasn’t malice.
Nor anger.
It was something far more massive and heavy.
If a human feels the mountain looking down on them, it might feel like this.
Unconsciously, I stepped closer to Alduin’s side.
Right beside me, Alduin let out a low growl.
Rrrrr…
It wasn’t fear.
It was a warning.
Even before that colossal being, Alduin didn’t lower his body.
Nor did he show any sign of fleeing.
Instead, heat stirred quietly in the black scales, and the golden eyes narrowed sharply.
The instant I stepped back, Alduin naturally twisted his body to shield me.
He didn’t turn his back.
He kept facing forward and shifted just enough to block my view.
It was so utterly Alduin—protective, dragon-like—that even in this situation, a tiny part of my heart calmed.
Masor pressed against my left side.
Steel scales gave a quiet, metallic rattle.
The sound was far thinner and shorter than usual.
No mischief, no grievance, no pride.
Just tension.
Masor didn’t shift his body.
He didn’t hide.
Wings tightly folded, head lowered, he gazed up at the enormous being before us.
Just the two of them growing this quiet was enough to tell me how ridiculous the sight before my eyes truly was.
It slowly moved its head.
The stone along the mountain’s waist rattled with the motion, and the pooled water at the bottom rippled.
The wind passing between the curved horns produced a deep, resonant whistle.
And beneath the massive jawline, a low rumble rolled from deep within the neck.
Krrrrrrrr…
It sounded less like an animal’s cry and more like distant thunder rumbling from far away.
The low vibration sank into the ground, traveling up my soles and echoing inside my ribs.
I instinctively grabbed Alduin’s scales.
“Alduin.”
“Kr.”
“No breath.”
Alduin’s golden eyes flicked sideways for a split second.
As if to say, “Why are you the one talking about that right now?”
“Not yet.”
I added in a small voice, still looking up at the giant dragon.
“He hasn’t done anything yet.”
The heat in Alduin’s neck gradually cooled.
R.
It was a reluctant agreement.
I couldn’t sigh in relief and lifted my head again.
The body was too massive to take in all at once.
Looking at the head, the wings were still out of view.
Looking at the wings, the front legs were pushed beyond the horizon.
Following the end of the torso, mist, rock, and the dragon merged again somewhere ahead.
The front legs were like gates sunk into the mountain slope.
Each claw curved like a colossal spear, and the impact marks on the rocks formed long, ancient ravines.
I remembered the enormous footprints I had seen earlier.
Those were the exact spots.
Trampled ridges along the mountain ridge.
Pooled water forming small ponds.
One footprint.
I swallowed hard.
“This is seriously unfair…”
The words slipped out on their own.
“Alduin looked big, but…”
“It’s just a mountain.”
The very next moment, one of the massive wings twitched—just a tiny bit.
Nothing more.
Not spreading, not rising, not even adjusting the folded tips.
Yet the change was instantaneous.
Whoosh.
Lightning split in the distance.
The wind grazing the wing tips wrapped the entire gorge in an instant, and raindrops burst from the mist like miniature waterfalls.
The rain was heavy.
Cold, hard drops hammered against the rocks, scales, and ground.
But it wasn’t ordinary rain.
It was part of the storm the wings themselves had unleashed.
Moisture trapped inside the wings was sprayed out, friction sparked lightning, and pressurized air burst forth all at once.
I quickly shielded my eyes.
“Ah, it’s cold.”
Masor leaned slightly, shielding me with his body.
Alduin advanced a little farther forward.
In the end, I was half-buried between the two dragons.
Yet my eyes stayed locked on the dragon.
What if those wings spread fully?
What if that massive mouth opened and unleashed the storm it had created?
I had seen Alduin’s breath.
A giant forest and lake vanished in an instant.
But this was different.
It wasn’t a power to burn and erase.
It was the power to strike down the sky itself.
I murmured while thinking.
“Breath like weather? The difference is too great.”
Alduin growled low beside me.
“Kr.”
I reflexively fired back.
“You stay quiet. The one who evaporated a lake shouldn’t be saying anything.”
Alduin closed his mouth.
From Masor’s side came a tiny, metallic rattle.
It was the sound of trying to hold in a laugh.
I immediately turned my head.
“You too, quiet.”
Rattle.
“Neither of you are the ones being teased right now.”
I said that, then looked up again.
The triple eyes blinked slowly.
No hostility could be read in them.
Instead, I sensed something ancient, patient, and heavy—like the eyes of a being that had protected something for a very, very long time.
The gorge?
Or this entire place?
I sensed the truth, and the moment I did, a chill ran down my spine.
This immense being wasn’t just large and strong.
It was the master and guardian of this land.
The dragon exhaled again.
Whoosh…
This time, the mist remaining inside was pushed out slowly along the breath, the opposite of inhalation.
Inside the breath lay the scent of wet earth, cold rain, and the faintest metallic scent of lightning.
It was as if the storm itself had become breath.
When that breath reached us, the droplets on Alduin’s scales trembled faintly.
Masor pressed his front legs deeper into the rock.
I forgot even that my hair was getting wet and kept staring at the sight.
It was truly massive.
Yet it felt strangely orderly.
Heavy, slow, overwhelming.
Moving one step would probably shake an entire mountain range.
Yet the energy flowing inside it was unnervingly clean.
In that moment, I felt a kind of dignity completely different from Alduin’s.
Alduin was a dragon of the sun—hot, fierce, and once it exploded, nothing was left behind.
Masor was a dragon of the blade—quiet, sharp, and the moment it touched, it was already too late.
This dragon… was a mountain wrapped in a storm.
Standing in its own place, it simply didn’t move, and the sky, wind, and rain all rested beneath it.
“Whoa… It’s really huge.”
Alduin moved his head slightly.
I immediately added,
“Larger than you.”
“Kr.”
This time Alduin didn’t object.
Size-wise, it was true.
But the golden eyes showed no intention of backing down at all.
I found myself smiling at that.
“Yeah. Size doesn’t tell the whole story.”
A low rumble rose from Alduin’s neck.
It sounded mildly satisfied.
I immediately raised a finger.
“Still, no breath.”
“Kr…”
The triple eyes of the giant dragon slowly swept over us.
From Alduin to Masor.
From Masor to me.
And back to Alduin.
At the end of that long gaze, the dragon of the colossal storm slowly lowered its head.
As if the mountain itself had tilted.
I held my breath.
If that massive mouth opened, would the storm inside pour out?
Would the tangled lightning, wind, and rain carve through the gorge?
My hand tightened around Alduin’s scales.
Alduin’s body tensed just slightly.
The tips of Masor’s wings brushed the rock and gave a short, metallic rattle.
And finally, the dragon’s mouth slowly opened.
Inside was dark, deep, and swirling with wind.
A low, thunderous rumble flowed out.
Krrrrrrrr…
While listening to that sound, I stared up without even distinguishing whether it was a cry or not.
But one thing was clear.
“You… you’re protecting something, aren’t you?”
The secret of the dragon was about to be revealed.