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Noa pressed the window open and glanced back at Lilya, gripping the frame with one hand while staring out into the night.
"Get out of here. If you stay, it'll only bring trouble," he said, then leaped down.
Lilya rushed after him, descending quickly and closing the distance.
In a sorrowful voice, she pleaded, "Brother, why are you pushing me away? The only thing I want is to stay with you. Take me with you!" She grabbed his hand.
Noa looked at her coldly. "I refuse. Follow me, and I'll kill you."
He pulled his hand free from hers and bolted toward the wall.
Lilya stared at Noa in shock. She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed, "What did I do to you? Why are you treating me like this? Even the simplest harsh word from you hurts me this much...??"
Noa reached the wall.
There was a small hole nearby. *If I want to escape without being noticed, this is the only way.*
He walked along the wall, found the narrow opening, and began removing the surrounding stones to widen it.
Kneeling down, he glanced back. "Farewell, little sister. When you grow up, you'll understand."
With that, he squeezed into the hole. It was too tight, so he stripped off his clothes.
*No matter what, I can't go back now.*
He forced his way in again. Still too narrow—his skin scraped against the rough edges, teeth gritting in pain.
"Damn it, is this still not enough?"
Struggling outward, his body emerged covered in minor scratches and cuts. Noa grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly.
Looking up at the sky, he took a deep breath. "I'm free at last. No need to stay here anymore." He started walking.
Suddenly, a magical circle appeared beneath his feet.
Noa stared at it in astonishment, eyes widening. "A trap?"
In that instant, a small bolt of lightning struck him.
Noa blackened, smoke rising from his body.
He collapsed to the ground.
*Did I really fall into a trap meant for ordinary animals? How pathetic. I should have anticipated something like this in a warrior's castle.*
Propping himself up on his hands, he stood. His eyes were half-open; the wounds had reopened, blood flowing freely.
His breathing grew heavy. He drew deep breaths.
Rising to his feet, he headed toward the forest.
For hours, he walked without stopping, directionless—like a soulless dragon.
The sun was setting.
The horizon burned crimson, as if a blood-soaked curtain were slowly dissolving into twilight.
The last golden rays pierced through the tree branches, illuminating the ground before yielding to the encroaching darkness.
Within the forest, the wind howled, rustling and shaking the leaves.
Beneath a massive tree, Noa leaned his body against the trunk.
His face was pale, lips parched, his blood-soaked and exhausted form growing colder.
Breathing had become torment.
Each inhale felt like a dagger plunged into his heart.
His hands were stained with blood, red traces lingering under his fingernails.
He tried to close his eyes, but the sharp pain refused to allow it.
"Why... am I still alive?" he murmured in a choked voice.
He didn't know who the question was for.
The sky?
The tree?
Or himself—the depths of a heart that could offer no answers?
Another question burned within: Why had no power awakened?
The might of dragon blood—where was it? He was of the supreme dragon lineage, yet...
Nothing.
Only pain.
Human pain.
His strength wouldn't return.
"Who am I?" he thought.
"Just a dragon who can't transform into one? Or from another race entirely?
Or a toy in the hands of fate?"
Strange sounds echoed from the forest depths.
The birds had long fallen silent, replaced by unnatural whispers.
Something shifted between the branches—a shadow flashed and vanished.
Noa pressed harder against the trunk, fighting to stay conscious.
Blood dripped from his hand, seeping into the bark.
Then, from afar, the clamor of dragons rang out.
Torchlight glittered in the night, piercing the darkness.
The soldiers' shouts drew nearer.
"Find him!"
The command echoed through the forest.
"He can't have escaped!" another bellowed.
Noa narrowed his eyes, struggling to steady his breath.
He knew: if they found him like this, it would all be over.
But he had no strength to flee—every step would only draw him closer to death.
And then—
A whisper echoed from within:
"...on the path of blood... continue..."
Noa nearly lost consciousness.
His vision blurred; stars and branches merged into chaos.
He leaned his head against the tree, clinging to his last reserves of will.
He gazed at the sky.
The stars were visible, their cold light seeming to say: "You are alone."
In a faint voice, Noa whispered, "I just want to sleep... to rest..."
Memories came alive before his eyes.
His father carrying him on his shoulders as a child, playing.
His mother embracing him, saying: "Crying doesn't make you weak, Noa. You are the strongest. My pride."
His brother gripping his hand tightly: "I will never abandon you."
Noa's lips trembled.
"All of you... liars...
Everyone... left me..."
A tear rolled down—
But this time, it wasn't weakness.
It was the return of the past, the echo of tragedy.
The soldiers' voices grew closer, their torches devouring the forest.
Noa lay drenched in blood beneath the tree, staring at the indifferent stars.
One thought resounded in his mind:
"If I die, what then? I'm curious—what comes after death?"
And again—the whisper:
"...awaken..."
Noa forced his eyes open.
Everything felt like a dream—
Elyan's torn throat,
The soldiers' screams,
Lilya's fearful gaze...
But looking at the dried blood on his hands, he understood one thing—
This was no dream.
He drew a deep breath, but pain shredded his heart; his veins tensed.
The agony was unbearable.
He clutched the tree tightly to avoid collapsing.
Blood dripped from his hand, absorbing into the bark.
The voices from afar grew clearer.
"Raise the torches higher!
He hasn't gone far!"
"There's blood here! This way!"
Noa's heart pounded wildly.
He couldn't run,
But he couldn't accept death either.
Again, the whisper:
"...the path is forged in blood..."
He covered his ears, shaking his head.
"No! This isn't me!
Don't speak!" he growled in rage.
But the voice didn't silence.
It echoed from every drop of his blood.
Memories flashed once more:
His father's laughter,
His mother's loving gaze,
His brother's promise: "I will never abandon you."
These memories crushed him.
He questioned himself:
"Why... did you all abandon me?..
Why did you cast me into the darkness? Liars, all of you!"
The wind rustled the leaves, casting shadows over him.
And then—he felt it.
His heart began beating strangely.
As if another heart existed inside—pounding faster and faster.
"...awaken..."
Noa closed his eyes.
Tears slid down his face.
A shiver gripped his body; the cold intensified.
Suddenly, black birds soared into the sky.
Their wingbeats sounded like clanging metal, merging with the soldiers' footsteps into a savage symphony.
The torchlight drew ever closer.
"There! Under the tree!" one shouted.
Noa tried to stand, but his strength failed.
His knees buckled; he crumpled to the ground.
He looked at the stars—they blurred.
"Can I really do nothing?"
The words pierced his soul.
His eyes slowly closed.
But in that moment—
Warmth spread from his chest.
At first like pain,
Then—as if a flame were awakening within.
The soldiers' footsteps closed in; torchlight enveloped the tree.
Noa's lips trembled as he whispered:
"I... am not done yet..."
But beneath the tree, he lost consciousness.
His vision faded; his breath weakened.
Yet the whisper persisted:
"...awaken... .."
This time, Noa offered no resistance.
His strength ebbed completely; his body fell to the earth.
One last time, he gazed at the stars and whispered softly:
"I... am finished..."
In that instant, something descended from above—
A black shadow slicing through the branches.
A fierce wind shook the tree.
In the blink of an eye, a figure appeared beside him—
A young man in black robes, his face shrouded in darkness.
The soldiers rushed forward, raising their torches high.
"There! Under the tree!" they yelled.
But as they approached, the black-robed youth raised his hand.
A storm of darkness erupted, extinguishing every torch.
The forest plunged back into oblivion; the soldiers' panicked screams rang out.
"What happened?!"
"The torches—gone!"
From the darkness came only a cold, steady voice:
"He does not belong to you."
A thunderous strike followed.
One soldier was hurled into a tree.
Another fell before drawing his sword.
A third tried to scream, but a crimson hand silenced him—utter quiet.
In moments, the forest fell silent again.
Only the wind rustled the leaves, mingled with the groans of the fallen.
The black-robed youth—Noa's side returned.
He knelt, gazing at the face soaked in blood and tears.
"Still alive in this state..." he said quietly.
Carefully, he lifted Noa.
The blood-drenched body was ice-cold, as if lifeless yet heavy with weight.
Step by step, he carried him into the darkness.
Behind, the soldiers relit their torches—
"What was that?.."
"Who slaughtered us?..
That boy couldn't have done it!"
But Noa had already vanished.
Carried into the embrace of shadows,
His fate—unknown,
His path—forged in blood, yet unfinished.
---
What do you think?
Will Noa awaken the power within,
or will the darkness consume him entirely?
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