"Just like Teacher Phantom Soul warned me… I really did become everyone's first target."
Seeing the flood of attacks closing in, Lock only smiled faintly.
An expression of composure—almost amusement.
Even with hundreds of opponents rushing at him, he stood calm and utterly confident.
Thanks to his training with Phantom Soul, Lock had long since mastered fighting under siege—dodging, feinting, and outmaneuvering large groups with pure speed.
He could have easily evaded it all now.
He could have used High Speed to escape the encirclement.
He could have spread his Dragon Wings and taken to the air, beyond their reach.
But that was before.
Last night, Lock had gained something far more powerful.
The Fire Dragon Slayer Magic.
And now, he decided—he wouldn't run.
He would show them all what true power looked like.
"Come on," he murmured, a faint red gleam lighting his eyes. "See and feel the power of my flames!"
A sulfurous hiss escaped his lips as thin ribbons of fire leaked between his teeth.
Heat shimmered around his body—so intense it warped the air itself.
Lock clenched his fists. The magic power within him surged to life, roaring through his veins like molten lava. In a single breath, half his reserves ignited.
His skin flushed red under the strain, and deep crimson scales began to surface across his arms and neck—dense, gleaming, alive.
"The Roar of the Fire Dragon!"
Lock drew his hands to his mouth. A dark red magic circle blazed before him—and the world detonated.
A pillar of flame erupted outward, splitting the air with the fury of a living inferno.
A sea of fire exploded across the arena, swallowing everything in its path.
The temperature spiked in an instant—melting soil, cracking stone, turning the air itself into a furnace.
The blast surged forward like a tsunami of heat, devouring the battlefield in a single wave.
Even from the control room, Good Eyes and the Hero Public Safety staff froze in disbelief.
Every viewer in Japan, watching the broadcast, could only stare.
The world had turned one color—
Fire.
All other hues were gone. The ground, the sky, the examinees—everything was consumed in burning crimson.
Every attack fired at Lock disintegrated before touching him, vaporized the instant it met his flames.
The monitors went white with glare, then black from overload.
Only distant drones, barely outside the blast radius, survived long enough to catch the aftermath.
Inside the control room, Good Eyes' face twitched uncontrollably.
"Th-this… this kind of power— from a middle schooler?!"
No one answered.
No one could.
Even through the monitors, they could feel it—
the heat, the pressure, the sheer force of something inhuman.
Across Japan, social feeds exploded.
"What the hell—did he just melt the battlefield?!"
"Wait, are those scales?!"
"That's not a Quirk—he's turning into a dragon!"
"Even Endeavor's flames don't look like that!"
"I swear I can smell smoke through my screen!"
"Whoever called this kid arrogant owes him an apology—and a hospital bill!"
Public opinion flipped in seconds.
The sight of Lock standing unscathed amid that inferno shattered every doubt.
He didn't argue with his critics—he silenced them, in the most primal way possible.
Because across every land, in every culture, there's a law older than words:
The strong are respected.
And from this moment on, no one dared call Lock a reckless child again.
At Ryukyu's office, the reaction was equally chaotic.
Ryukyu slammed her palms on the table and leapt to her feet.
Beside her, Fat Gum yelped, dropping half a doughnut in shock.
Across from them, Nighteye flinched—his All Might anniversary figure slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor.
Ryukyu's sharp eyes glittered. "Scales…? He said he could 'communicate' with Quirks—even the genetic code of one. Could it be…?"
Her mind raced through theories. If Lock's inherited Draconic Quirk factors had resonated with his new magic, then…
"Did he just awaken a hybrid evolution?" she whispered.
Back at Dagobah Arena, the aftermath was chaos.
The arena's earth was scorched black. The entire drone had melted mid-air.
But a few cameras at extreme range still captured the scene—
A lone boy standing tall amid the ruins, smoke curling around him, and dozens—no, hundreds—of examinees lying unconscious from the heat.
Lock lowered his hands, embers drifting off his arms.
He hadn't gone all out. Not even close.
If he had, those people wouldn't just be unconscious—they'd be ash.
And that would have cost him his license… or his freedom.
"Anyone else," Lock's voice rumbled low, echoing like thunder, "still want to challenge me?"
No one answered.
Those still conscious staggered back instinctively, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and him.
Even from afar, they could feel it—something vast and ancient moving behind him.
For a split second, their minds saw a shape—
A dragon, wreathed in molten fire.
"Am I seeing things?" Mt. Lady whispered, rubbing her eyes.
"No… that's real," Kamui Woods muttered, swallowing hard. "Or close enough."
Their relief was palpable.
If not for their decision to move to the forest region at the start, they'd have been incinerated too.
Even now, the heat distorted the air around Lock, bending the light into a shimmering mirage.
In the control tower, Good Eyes and the exam staff finally stirred from paralysis.
They stared at the feed—at the endless stretch of collapsed bodies—and began counting.
"Th-the first…" Good Eyes' voice shook. "The first round of the… elimination exercise—ends here!"
The announcement echoed through the arena.
Out of more than two thousand candidates, only eight hundred remained.
One boy.
One attack.
Over a thousand eliminated in a single breath.
The same boy who, moments ago, half the nation had mocked.
Now, he stood smiling faintly—
eyes sharp, posture proud, heat still rising off his skin like the breath of a dragon.
---
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San