The clang of steel and the roar of a thousand men echoed across the battlefield, a
symphony of destruction that shook the very foundations of the kingdom. High
above, within the fortified stone walls of the royal keep, the queen lay on a bed of silk,
her face pale with exhaustion. She had just given birth as the siege raged on. She
clutched a tiny form wrapped in crimson cloth, a new life born amidst the chaos of
death. The air was thick with the scent of fear, but in her eyes, there was only fierce,
unwavering love for the child in her arms.
Just as the tremors of battle reached the keep's inner sanctum, the doors burst open.
It was the king, his armor dented and streaked with blood, his sword still in hand. He
was a force of nature, a mountain of a man who had broken through the enemy lines
to return to his queen. His helmet was of, his face a mask of triumph and concern. He
strode to the bed, his heavy boots silent on the marble floor.
He knelt beside the queen, his gaze falling upon the child. The infant stirred, its tiny
hands grasping for the air. The king gently lifted the baby, his massive hands dwarfing
the small body. As he looked into the child's eyes, a profound sense of destiny filled
the room, overpowering the distant sounds of war. A smile, full of both love and
ruthless ambition, spread across his face.
"You're my world's best creation," he declared, his voice a low rumble that promised
conquest. "No one can defeat you. Conquer the whole world, my son."
The words were not just a blessing; they were a prophecy, a command etched into the
very essence of the child's soul. He held the future of his kingdom—and perhaps the
world—in his arms.
;) PAGE 2
The polished chrome of a luxury sports car gleamed under the showroom lights, a
testament to Haru Ryūzaki's success. Yet, the sleek perfection of his business was in
stark contrast to the strained conversation happening within it.
"Sora," Haru said, his voice calm but firm. He ran a hand over the hood of a scarlet
convertible. "You're 22 now. It's time to take on some responsibility. You should get a
job, or at least come work with me here."
Sora, leaning against a glass wall, didn't even look at his older brother. He was
scrolling through his phone, a dismissive smile on his face. "Why? You're here, aren't
you?" he replied, his tone laced with nonchalant arrogance. "You earned me a good
life, a house, and our parents.. What else do I need? Twenty-two is for having fun, not
for being a workhorse."
Haru's hand dropped from the car's surface. A deep sigh escaped his lips. "I'm not
going to be here forever, Sora. I can't always take care of you."Sora finally looked up from his phone, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. "Whatever.
Don't worry about it," he said, pushing himself off the wall. "I've got plans."
With a final, dismissive wave, he turned on his heel and strode toward the
showroom's sliding glass doors. Haru watched his younger brother leave, the doors
sealing shut with a soft hiss behind him. The noise of the city returned, but inside
Haru's heart, a heavy silence settled. He was a successful man, a respected
businessman, but he couldn't get through to the person he cared about most. He was
alone with the shining, empty trophies of his success.
;) PAGE 3
The quiet of the middle of the night was a fragile thing, shattered instantly by the shrill
ringing of Haru's phone. He fumbled for it on his nightstand, the bright screen a
sudden, unwelcome intrusion. He answered, his voice groggy.
"Hello?"
"Haru! It's me. Something's happened," his father's voice, Hiroshi Ryūzaki, came
through, thick with panic.
Haru sat bolt upright, all sleep gone. "Dad? What's wrong? Is it Sora?"
"He's not picking up his phone, Haru! Your mother... She's crying. She found a note in
his room." Hiroshi's voice broke, and the faint sound of his mother's sobs could be
heard in the background.
Haru's heart sank. He knew this was the consequence of their earlier conversation.
"What did it say?" he asked, his voice steady despite the dread coiling in his gut.
"It says... 'I'm going to live alone. I don't need my older brother. I'll show him I can do
it alone.'"
A flash of fierce determination ignited in Haru's eyes. The note wasn't a cry for help; it
was a reckless challenge. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll find him," he said, his voice now a low
promise. "Just take a deep breath and go back to bed. I'll call you as soon as I do."
He hung up without waiting for a reply. In a moment, he was dressed, his keys were in
his hand, and he was out the door. The garage door rumbled open, and the sleek,
black car he had admired earlier in his showroom now felt like a tool for a mission. He
slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool beneath his touch. The engine roared to life,
a powerful, angry sound that cut through the silent night as he pulled out onto the
empty streets, a man on a hunt for his foolish younger brother.
;) PAGE 4
The black car sliced through the deserted streets, its headlights cutting through the
darkness like two searching eyes. But Haru Ryūzaki's mind wasn't on the road; it was
miles away, pulled back into the past by the memory of his uncle, Takeshi.
Takeshi had been more than just an uncle; he was a mentor, a father figure, a man
whose kindness was only matched by his immense strength of character. He had
always been a guiding force for both Haru and his brother, a model of responsibility
and grace. But after he passed away, a strange sadness had settled over Sora. Tocope, he had thrown himself into a new life of friends and parties, mistaking
carelessness for freedom, a way of running from the pain rather than moving on.
Haru's thoughts crystallized into a single, vivid memory. The sun was setting over a
nearby river, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Haru and Takeshi were
sitting on a bench, a quiet moment between a busy day. Sora had just run off to a
nearby vending machine to get some cold drinks.
"Haru," Takeshi had said, his voice soft but filled with the weight of experience. "He
has a pure heart. A shy one, but pure. Make sure you're always with him to show him
the right way."
The image dissolved, and Haru was back in the car, the roar of the engine a stark
contrast to the quiet of his memory. He gripped the steering wheel, a new
understanding settling in his mind. He had been looking for Sora in all the wrong
places, searching for a troublemaker in a city full of them. But his brother wasn't just
running away from him; he was running toward something—or someone.
A sudden, powerful realization hit him. The date. Today wasn't just another day; it was
his uncle's birthday. Sora, lost and grieving, wouldn't be in a bar or a friend's house.
He would be at the only place he felt safe. Before leaving town, before truly cutting
ties, Sora would go to visit the only person who truly understood him. He would go to
their uncle's grave.
Haru's foot pressed down on the gas pedal. His destination was no longer a mystery.
He had a place to go and a promise to keep.
;) PAGE 5
The cemetery was a quiet place under the pale moonlight, a city of stone sleeping
beneath the stars. Haru parked his car a short distance away, its engine a silent
memory, and moved on foot. He followed the path he had walked countless times,
past rows of tombstones, until he saw them. Sora was kneeling by their uncle's grave,
a small bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, and next to him was a girl, her head
bowed.
Haru took a few soft steps, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel path. He
crept up behind them, the silence amplifying their shared grief. Then, he reached out
and gently tapped both of them on the shoulder at the same time. The two of them
jumped, letting out mufled, comical yelps of surprise as they spun around to face
him.
Haru's gaze softened as he saw them, but he held on to his tough exterior. He took
each of their hands in his, his grip firm. "Did you two think you could just disappear?
Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?" he scolded, but the anger in his
voice was already melting into concern.
Tears welled up in Sora's eyes, and his shoulders began to shake. "You're always the
best at everything," he sobbed, his voice cracking. "You're always right. But I'm not
like you. I'm not perfect at anything. No one likes me because I'm useless."
Haru's own eyes welled up with tears. He squeezed his brother's hand tighter. "You
think... you think I'm better than you?" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not.
You're the one who is always better than me. You make mistakes, but you learn from
them and you grow. You just don't notice it because you keep running away fromresponsibility. You're a work in progress, Sora, but you're not useless. You have a
pure heart, and you have to be proud of that."
Sora looked up at him, his face streaked with tears. The girl next to them watched
silently, her own eyes glistening.
Haru wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a small, tired smile on his face. "Let's
go. I'm starving," he said, turning to head back to the car. "And you, too," he added,
looking at the girl. "Sora, your girlfriend probably hasn't eaten either. I'll get you both
something."
Sora's tears instantly stopped, replaced by a deep blush that spread across his face.
He quickly looked from the girl to Haru, stammering out a denial. But the damage was
done. The air had been cleared, and the three of them began to walk toward the car, a
small family unit reunited under the stars.
;) PAGE 6
The morning sun poured through the wide showroom windows, casting a warm,
hopeful glow on the cars. But the light wasn't just on the polished metal; it was on
Sora Ryūzaki. With a seriousness Haru hadn't seen in years, Sora listened, absorbed
every word, and eagerly took notes. His eyes, once full of reckless abandon, now held
a focused glint, a mirror of the determination that had defined their uncle. Haru felt a
warmth spread through his chest. He was finally getting through to his brother. He
was finally a good role model.
A quiet smile touched Haru's lips as he looked over the busy showroom. The new life,
the new Sora, was a testament to his promise. I've completed my promise, Uncle, he
thought to himself. He's on the right path now.
He excused himself to get a drink from a nearby convenience store. The city air was
bustling, a stark contrast to the quiet focus of the showroom. As he neared the store,
a voice cried out from a nearby alley. He turned and saw a man, his face contorted
with malice, pressing a knife against the throat of a young woman. The woman's face
was white with terror. It was Kasumi.
Without a second thought, the calm, responsible businessman became a desperate
guardian. "Hey! Leave her alone!" he yelled, and charged forward. He slammed into
the robber, knocking him away from Kasumi. But the man was quick, and with a feral
snarl, he plunged the knife deep into Haru's side. A searing pain, like a brand, shot
through his body. He stumbled back, a gasp escaping his lips as his hand flew to the
wound, now gushing with blood.
The robber smiled, the knife still in his hand. But Haru, with a surge of adrenaline and
a final, desperate act of will, pulled the blade from his own flesh and thrust it into the
man's chest. The robber crumpled to the ground, his life fading as quickly as the light
in his eyes.
Haru felt the world begin to spin. He looked at Kasumi, her face a mask of shock and
horror, and forced a weak smile. "Go home," he whispered, pushing her away. "Go to
Sora. Tell him I'm sorry..."
He stumbled back toward the street, his vision blurring. He needed a hospital. He
needed help. But the world was already fading to a dull roar. The headlights of a truckrounded the corner, a massive, unyielding beast hurtling through the night. There was
a deafening sound of metal and glass, a final, crushing blow.
Haru Ryūzaki's life, a story of quiet success and selfless love, ended on a cold street,
his blood spilling onto the asphalt, a promise fulfilled, and a destiny now ready to
begin.
;) PAGE 7
The abyss was not silent. It began with a low, rhythmic sound—the steady drip of life
retreating into the cold pavement.
At the center of the deserted crossroads, two figures lay broken under the flickering
glow of the streetlights. One man was slumped against a vending machine, his body a
map of jagged, mortal wounds. This was Haru. Despite the steel that had pierced him,
his face bore no trace of agony. Instead, he looked like a man who had finally finished
a long, dificult race. He died with the quiet, heavy stillness of a hero who had
achieved his purpose—leaving the world without a single lingering regret.
A few inches away, the other man lay sprawled across the asphalt. His fingers were
still white-knuckled, frozen in a desperate grip around a necklace. A blade remained
buried deep in his chest, a cruel reminder of the suddenness of the end. Unlike Haru,
his face was a mask of pure, startled horror. He had been stolen from life before he
was ready, his eyes wide with the realization that his time had run out.
Two lives ended that night. One left in peace; the other left in pieces. But as their
blood mingled on the dark street, the soul of the hero was already drifting toward a
new beginning.
;) PAGE 8
They say that death is the end, but in the realm of myth, life simply begins to flow
along its original path. There is no finality—only the flow of a pure, infinite beginning.
Far beyond the borders of known reality lies a universe where the laws of physics are
replaced by infinite fantasy. On a planet tucked within this mystical realm, the air
hums with a pure, flowing energy. Deep within a jungle of gargantuan trees, life moves
like a waking dream. Silver-bodied impalas with diamond eyes drink from a
magnificent waterfall, their coats shimmering in a world that feels untouched by the
darkness of the "previous" life.
At the very summit of that thundering waterfall, a legend was waking up.
The dragon was a masterpiece of nature: a serpent-like body covered in Azure blue
scales, two massive wings, and golden horns that pierced the mist. Curled atop his
head, a tiny lizard of the same sky-blue hue slept soundly.
A stray leaf drifted onto the dragon's snout, triggering a violent sneeze.
The lizard was sent flying, landing directly over the dragon's eyes. The dragon froze.
The last thing he remembered was the cold asphalt and the fading roar of a truck.
Now, he felt the weight of wings and the power of a predator. Panicked by the strange
sensation, he began to shake his head wildly to throw the tiny creature of."Stop! Stop shaking!" the lizard cried out, its voice high and hurried as it clung to the
dragon's scales with an iron-like grip.
The dragon stopped, panting, his giant eyes focusing on the small blue creature.
The lizard pufed out its chest, looking up at its massive companion with frantic
loyalty. "Listen to me! I am your Soul-Bonded Subordinate!"
The dragon stared.
;) PAGE 9
The dragon stared at the tiny blue lizard, his mind a foggy void. He couldn't remember
the names of the people he once loved or the faces of his family, but his body
remembered how to survive. It remembered the weight of a blade and the lethal
rhythm of a battlefield.
He looked down at his new, massive claws. He felt an immense, terrifying power
thrumming in his veins—enough to conquer this entire "infinite fantasy" universe.
Yet, as the lizard continued to shout about "soul-bonded duty," the dragon felt a much
stronger urge: the urge to take a nap.
"Master! Are you listening?" the lizard shrieked, waving its tiny arms. "The world is in
chaos! The high races are at each other's throats! Dragons, Oni, Goblins—they all
seek the throne! You must ascend!"
The dragon let out a long, smoky sigh. 'Ascend? That sounds like a lot of work,' he
thought, his golden eyes drooping with lazy apathy. He had the skills to end any war
with a single stroke of a katana, but right now, the moss on this waterfall felt much
more inviting than a throne.
He shifted his weight, and for a moment, the air around him shimmered. His serpent
body condensed, his azure scales pulling inward until a 7-foot-tall man stood where
the dragon had been. He was built like a mountain of lean muscle, his skin bronzed
and his eyes glowing with a piercing, royal blue light.
The lizard fell silent, awestruck by the sheer pressure radiating from the man's new
form.
The man looked at his hands, then at the horizon. He didn't care about the "Eternal
War" or the "King's Prophecy". He just wanted a quiet life. But as his hand
instinctively moved to where a blade should be, a flicker of his old honor sparked. If
people were going to submit to him, he would protect them—even if he complained
the whole time.
"Fine," the man rumbled, his voice like deep thunder. "You're my subordinate. That
means you find the food while I sleep. Understood?"
;) PAGE 10
The air around the waterfall suddenly grew heavy with the scent of ancient incense
and cold stone. The azure-eyed man tilted his head, his survival instincts—the sharp,
lethal remnants of his past life—vibrating under his skin.
"Master! Look!" the lizard squeaked, hiding behind the man's heel.
Beneath the thundering falls, the mountain itself seemed to groan. A hidden seal,
etched in glowing cyan runes, cracked open to reveal a path into a silent, forgotten
abyss. The man sighed, his apathy warring with his curiosity. 'Another long walk? I
just got used to standing on two legs.'
But he moved. His 7-foot frame carried a natural, predatory grace as he entered the
tomb. In the center of the crystalline chamber, bathed in a soft, golden light, sat a
woman who looked like she was made of moonlight and stardust.
This was Emiko.
She sat motionless, her magnificent white robes spilling across the floor like a frozen
river of silk. As the man approached, her eyes—the color of ancient jade—fluttered
open. A pulse of pure magical energy rippled through the tomb, making the
dragon-soul within him roar in recognition.
Emiko stood slowly, her movements as fluid as water. She looked at the giant man in
his primitive leaf-garb, and then at the tiny blue lizard. A small, knowing smile
touched her lips.
"The Lord has returned," she whispered, her voice like the chime of silver bells. "I
have slept for ten thousand years waiting for My Lord... only to find him looking like a
common forest wanderer."
The man scratched the back of his head, his expression one of pure, comedic
boredom. "Ten thousand years? That's a lot of nap time. I'm actually kind of jealous."
Emiko blinked, her divine dignity momentarily shattered by his sheer apathy. Then,
she knelt, her long white hair pooling around her. "My life, my magic, and my loyalty
belong to you, my husband. Lead me, and I shall burn your enemies to ash."
The man looked at the lizard, then at the beautiful goddess kneeling before him.
'Wives? Armies? I really just wanted to find a nice tree to sleep under,' he thought. But
as he looked at Emiko, a sense of honor—deep and unshakable—took root. He
couldn't leave her here.
"Fine," he rumbled. "But if we're going somewhere, you're carrying the lizard.
;) PAGE 11
Emiko stood within the shimmering light of the tomb, her white hair flowing like a
silken waterfall. She explained her past—how her people had ofered her up to a silent
"Heavenly Empress" to save their village from famine and plague. But the god had
never answered. The village had turned to dust, and she had remained, a forgotten
ofering breathing the pure energy of the world until it became her very soul: the
Phoenix Breath.
"I waited for a god," she whispered, her jade eyes fixed on the 7-foot man. "But I was
found by a Monster."The man leaned against a crystal pillar, his expression one of bored amusement.
"Well, gods are overrated. They're too busy to care. I'm just here because the lizard
won't stop screaming."
Despite his lazy tone, the dragon-soul within him respected her. She was a wife who
brought grace and ancient power, not a soldier. He decided then that his wives would
be protected, while his subordinates would handle the "symphony of destruction"
that seemed to follow him.
"Master! We have company!" the little lizard chirped, pointing toward the jungle
entrance.
A young man, roughly twenty years old, emerged from the thick brush. He was
dressed in rugged furs, his body lean and scarred from years of hunting bandits and
beasts. This was Sora. He carried himself with a desperate, wild edge—the look of
someone who had survived alone in a world of eternal war.
Sora froze as he saw the 7-foot giant with glowing azure eyes and the divine woman
beside him. His hand went to the rusted blade at his hip, but his survival instincts
screamed at him to stop. The pressure coming from the giant was unlike anything he
had ever felt.
The protagonist looked at the boy. He didn't remember his own brother, but seeing
this wild, abandoned youth stirred a familiar feeling in his chest—a sense of
responsibility he couldn't quite name.
"Master, he's a bandit-hunter," the lizard whispered. "Strong, but a bit... unrefined."
The dragon-man yawned. "He looks like he needs a job. And I need someone to carry
my stuf."
Sora stared at the giant, then slowly lowered his weapon. Without knowing why, he
felt a magnetic pull toward this man, as if his soul recognized a master worth
following. He knelt, bowing his head to the dirt. "I have no home. If you have power... I
give you my life.
;) PAGE 12
The roar of the waterfall provided a constant, rhythmic white noise that should have
been perfect for a nap. Instead, the man—the Dragon in human skin—found himself
watching a scene of absolute chaos.
Sora, the young bandit-hunter, was trying desperately to prove his worth. He had
lunged into the brush, emerging moments later with a silver-furred impala over his
shoulders. "For the Master's feast!" he grunted, slamming the beast down with the
pride of a survivor who knew the value of meat in a world of eternal war.
Emiko approached the kill with the grace of a celestial being. She didn't use a knife.
Instead, she inhaled deeply, her chest glowing with a faint, warm light. As she
exhaled, a stream of golden mist—the Phoenix Breath—enveloped the meat. In
seconds, the scent of perfectly seared venison filled the clearing.
"My Lord," she said, kneeling and ofering the first choice of the meal to the man. "It
is unrefined, but it will sustain your vessel."
The man looked at the meat, then at the wide-eyed Sora, then at the tiny blue lizard
who was currently trying to sharpen a twig as if it were a spear. He felt a headache
forming. In his past life, he managed a luxury showroom; here, he was managing a
goddess, a wild orphan, and a lizard.
"I just wanted a Booze," the man muttered, taking a piece of the meat with a lazy sigh.
"Master! We must move!" the lizard shouted, jumping onto his shoulder. "The energy
from the Queen's tomb being opened will draw every high-race monster for a hundred
miles!"
The man chewed slowly, his azure eyes tracking a bird in the sky. "Let them come.
Walking sounds like a lot of efort. If they want to fight, they can come to the waterfall.
At least here, the view is nice."
Sora's hand gripped his rusted blade, his knuckles white. He didn't understand how
someone so powerful could be so... indiferent. But as he looked at the man's relaxed
posture, he saw the lethal stillness of a predator. The man wasn't lazy because he was
weak; he was lazy because nothing in this world had earned his efort yet.
"Eat, kid," the man said, tossing a portion of meat to Sora. "You look like you haven't
slept since the cataclysm. If you're going to be my 'Subordinate,' you're no use to me
if you faint from hunger."
Sora caught the meat, stunned by the casual kindness. He realized then that being a
"Subordinate" to the Monster was going to be the strangest experience of his life.
PAGE 13
The fire crackled, the smell of seared meat still lingering in the humid jungle air. The
man—the Dragon—had just closed his eyes for a well-earned nap when the "heavy
silence" he had once felt in a city showroom was replaced by a sharp, metallic tang in
the air.
His eyes snapped open. He didn't remember his past life's names, but his body
remembered the "scent of fear" and the sound of steel sliding against leather.
"Master! Movement in the canopy!" the lizard hissed, diving into the man's leaf-skirt
for safety.Sora was on his feet instantly. He drew his rusted, notched blade, his eyes scanning
the trees with the frantic energy of an "abandoned child" who had fought bandits his
whole life. "Stay back, Master! I'll handle these scavengers!"
From the shadows of the giant trees, three figures dropped. They weren't human.
They were Goblins—gnarled, green-skinned creatures with jagged daggers and eyes
full of "malice". They had been tracking Sora's kill, but their greedy gazes immediately
locked onto Emiko and her glowing white robes.
Sora charged. He was fast, but unrefined. He swung his blade with a "reckless
challenge," echoing the way he had once lived his life. He managed to parry one
strike, but the other two Goblins moved to flank him, their daggers aimed for his
throat.
The man watched from his seated position, his expression one of pure, comedic
apathy. 'I just sat down,' he thought with a sigh. 'Why is everything so loud?'
But as a Goblin lunged toward the kneeling Emiko, the man's hand moved. It was a
blur—a "force of nature" movement that defied his lazy posture. He didn't have a
katana yet, so he simply flicked a small, sharp stone he had been playing with.
The stone whistled through the air, hitting the lead Goblin's dagger with enough force
to shatter the metal and send the creature tumbling backward into the waterfall.
Sora froze. The Goblins froze. Even Emiko looked up, her jade eyes shimmering with
"fierce love" and respect for her husband's hidden power.
"You're sloppy, Sora," the man rumbled, his voice like deep thunder. He didn't stand
up. He just pointed a lazy finger at the remaining Goblins. "Your stance is too high.
You're fighting like you want to die. If you're going to be my subordinate, start fighting
like you want to live to see the next meal."
The remaining Goblins, sensing the overwhelming "ruthless ambition" radiating from
the 7-foot giant, shrieked in terror and vanished into the brush.
Sora looked at his rusted sword, then at the man who had saved him without even
standing up. "Teach me," he whispered, his voice "thick with emotion" as he knelt
before the Monster.
The man groaned, pulling his leaf-skirt tighter and laying back down. "Tomorrow.
Learning takes efort. Efort takes energy. And I am currently out of both.
;) PAGE 14
The night deepened, and the "heavy silence" of the jungle was no longer threatening,
but protective. Sora sat by the dying embers of the fire, his eyes fixed on the man who
had efortlessly dispatched a threat while barely waking from a slumber.
"Master," Sora spoke softly, his voice lacking its earlier "nonchalant arrogance". "You
said I fight like I want to die. How did you know?"
The man didn't open his eyes. He lay with his head pillowed on a mossy root, the tiny
blue lizard curled into a ball on his chest. "Because I've seen it before," he rumbled.
"People who run toward blades because they think they have nothing to lose. You're
an 'abandoned child'—you think your life is a 'reckless challenge'. But in this world,
'Just one more try' isn't just a phrase. It's a responsibility."Sora bowed his head, the words hitting him with the weight of a "mentor's" truth. He
didn't realize that the soul inside the giant was a man who had spent his first life
trying to guide a brother exactly like him.
Emiko moved silently toward the man, her white robes shimmering like a "living
dream" in the moonlight. She knelt beside him, her hands glowing with a soft, azure
light. With a gentle touch, she began to weave the air energy around his 7-foot frame,
stitching together a set of robes from the very "pure energy" of the forest.
"You cannot wander this world in leaves, my Lord," she whispered, her jade eyes full
of "unwavering love".
The dragon-man opened one eye. "Is it comfortable? If it's itchy, I'm going back to the
leaves."
Emiko smiled, a sound like "silver bells". "It is made of the Phoenix Breath. It will
move with you like water and protect you like dragon-scale."
As the new robes formed—jet black with azure trim, matching the "World Class"
warrior he was destined to be—the man sat up. He looked at Sora, then at the "Tomb
Beauty" who had claimed him as a husband.
"Fine," he said, his "comedic apathy" momentarily replaced by a "mask of triumph".
"If we're going to do this, we do it right. Sora, tomorrow we will find you a real blade.
Emiko, find us a path that doesn't involve too much climbing. I'm still tired."
The lizard woke up, letting out a tiny, triumphant chirp. The "Symphony of
Destruction" was coming for them, but for tonight, the Dragon had found his first
"family" in a world of monsters.
;) PAGE 15
As the first light of a foreign sun began to pierce the jungle canopy, the
transformation was complete.
Emiko stepped back, her breath hitching as she looked upon her husband. Using the
Phoenix Breath, she had woven the very essence of the forest's pure energy into a
garment worthy of a Lord.
The man stood 7 feet tall, his presence now commandingly regal. He wore a
high-collared, midnight-black trench coat that seemed to swallow the shadows.
Intricate azure embroidery, swirling like dragon scales, ran along the cufs and hem,
glowing faintly when he moved. Underneath, a dark vest sat tight against his powerful
frame, held by a belt with a silver dragon-head buckle.
His long, dark hair fell messily around his sharp features, and his azure eyes burned
with a calm, lazy intensity.
"It's... heavy," he muttered, adjusting the collar with a bored flick of his wrist. "But at
least I don't look like a bush anymore."
Sora looked up from the fire, his eyes wide with awe. "Master... you look like a King."
The man yawned, the sound echoing off the waterfall. "Kings have to do paperwork,
Sora. I'm just a traveler who wants a better chair than a tree root." He looked toward
the edge of the jungle, where a faint trail led toward the lowlands. "The lizard says
there's a village called 'Mud' nearby. Let's go. I'm told they have actual beds there."
With the divine Emiko at his side and the wild Sora trailing behind him as his
sword-hand, the man took his first steps out of the wilderness. He didn't know yet thathe would soon discard the name 'Haru' forever, or that this small village of Goblins
would become the cornerstone of an empire.