Ascension materials:

Stats:

Refinements:

Ascensions:

Asc.	Mora	Items
A6	45000	4× Blazing Sacrificial Heart's Splendor	18× Sigil of a Striding Will	12× Saurian-Crowned Warrior's Golden Whistle
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Lore:

Just as the sea beasts within the deep currents and massive waves follow the sounds of water to their resting place,

So too did the great dragon that once ruled the land of flame have a tomb to amass its legacy.

There, spindly spider-leg ridges of bleached bones grasp at the sky like giant claws.

The secret machines that guard the night and borders of death were ordered to patrol there around the clock.

That is a dangerous place to any and all, and even the most agile of couriers would not willingly go prying.

Moreover, why disturb powerful foes who carefully counting down their last days on their claws?

Sitting around the tribe's bonfire, Wanjiru suddenly leapt for joy upon hearing the tales of this place.

For there were no longer any foes in the world more terrifying than them, and Wanjiru, who already possessed wondrous strength,

Could surely obtain what she desired more than anything else at that time from their remains.

O Wondrous Wanjiru, with whose single swing ironwood that had endured a hundred years would shatter asunder,

And in whose palm raw ore would be crushed to powder, and before whose arm all boulders that bar her path must bend,

Not to mention how objects made of the toughest metal were as malleable as misshapen mud in her fingers...

Where should she find a reliable weapon? After pondering it day and night, Wanjiru finally had the answer.

She leaped into the volcano from Tollan's peak, avoiding the creations that slithered like serpents and entering the ruins that had lain desolate for ages.

As she followed the traces left behind by the heroes who once fought a vicious battle against the great dragon, the great gashes left in the mountainside by their struggle,

If only she had been born in those times, she thought! Then, she would be just like those ancestors who had left legends behind.

How she envied those ancestors who had had the chance to pit their skills against the mighty, robust dragon, and to test their martial might against the primordial spirits.

But that jagged boneyard of which the tribe's storytellers had made a point of stressing its deadly seriousness,

Was nothing more than the lonely corpses of a few giant beasts who had met gruesome ends.

Just as disappointment was setting in, the young girl with hand outstretched suddenly saw in a trance a huge shadow with wings outstretched, throwing itself towards her.

With no time to consider just what that figure was, with a great laugh, she fought the golden shadow.

There is no need to dwell overmuch on the details of that desperate battle. It was an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a battle of raw blows as they fought for their lives,

Finally, the one who ended the battle was the brave warrior, tearing off the dragon's shattered wing with her two bloody hands.

And that golden shadow disappeared with a wailing cry, as though it were a creation once real.

As she came to her senses, her hand was still extended, as though it had all been but a fleeting fragment of a dream.

But had it really been a dream? The arm that she had shattered in the dream still ached dully, and in her outstretched palm,

A heavy dragon bone had appeared, as if out of nowhere, and it was the spitting image of the tail of the giant beast she had caught in battle.

When she told her friends who loved to tell stories about this, the nose of that High Priest of the Masters of the Night-Wind scrunched and wrinkled,

"The Great Volcano of Tollan is forbidden ground, and ordinary people cannot even enter! Moreover, you were still so young then."

And the man holding the ceremonial blade said, "Also, are you serious? We've never even seen you draw that blade."

"Of course I'm serious! I just don't use it because I usually don't need to, my hands are more than enough."

Beside the campfire, on the eve of battle, she could already see the great black beast's silhouette on the shore, Wanjiru said,

And she gripped the hilt of that bleached bone blade, silently waiting for the battlefield where she would draw it once more.