The mountains loomed closer. Cold wind sliced through the jagged peaks as I struggled forward, still weak but no longer helpless. My wings twitched involuntarily, remnants of the first evolution, ready to stabilize me when I leapt.
The world beyond the ruins felt… alive. Subtle mana currents whispered through the air, carrying the scent of life—human and dragon alike. My dragon instincts screamed in warning.
I was not alone.
A faint glimmer caught my eyes—a faint light hovering near a broken ridge. Curious, I approached, silent as stone. What I found made my claws clench.
Traps. Dozens of them. Runes etched into stones and wood, barely visible but deadly. Spike-lined pits, arcane snares, pressure plates connected to spells.
Someone had been hunting here recently.
Not random travelers. Experienced hunters.
I crouched low, scanning for movement. My heart raced, the dragon core pulsing, teaching me again that caution was survival. Even a weak dragon could die if arrogance took over.
And then I heard them.
Footsteps.
Heavy, purposeful. Not one, not two, but a group moving together, their mana signatures aligned, disciplined. I smelled iron, blood, and leather. They weren't hunters of small beasts—they were professionals. Dragon hunters.
I had faced humans before. They had no mercy. This time, they were smarter.
They spoke in whispers, yet I understood instinctively. One carried a staff, two wielded swords, and others—crossbows. The air thickened with tension.
"We're close," a voice murmured. "I can feel it. The weak dragon is still nearby."
My gaze narrowed. They were tracking me, not by sight, but by my very presence. They were trained for this.
I weighed my options.
Fight? Not yet.
Run? Risk stepping into more traps.
Hide? Maybe, but for how long?
The wind carried a sound—metal against stone. I turned my head and saw a glimmer of movement: a shadow detached from the main group. Smaller, nimble, almost silent. A scout.
I tensed.
Before it could notice me, instinct took over. I struck first—not with full power, but with speed. My tail whipped around, knocking the scout into a pit trap. A sharp scream echoed. Good. A warning.
The main group froze. They hadn't expected the weak dragon to fight back. Not yet.
I seized the moment. Leaping across the rocks, breathing smoke and embers in feints, I pushed deeper into the mountains, weaving through traps I could now sense.
But they weren't giving up. Their footsteps echoed in the distance, a persistent shadow of death.
I paused on a ridge, chest heaving. Below me, the hunters regrouped. The one with the staff raised it high, chanting words in a language I didn't know, summoning a sphere of light that cut through the night air.
Dangerous. Too dangerous.
And yet… I felt it. The dragon core responded. Not fear—curiosity. Growth.
This was the world's lesson:
Every time they came for me, I would have to rise.
Every attack would teach me.
Every death I avoided would strengthen me.
The wind carried another scent—dragon. Faint, older, larger, and far more dangerous. Another apex predator roaming these mountains. Its presence filled the valley, invisible but undeniable.
I swallowed hard. The path forward wasn't just humans anymore. Not just survival. It was a world where dragons, hunters, and the unknown all collided.
And I, the weak dragon who barely survived the first fight, had no choice but to move forward.
Step by step, claw by claw, I climbed.
And somewhere in the shadows, I knew my next lesson awaited.
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