"[Into The Shadows]."
Draco's voice was calm, though his heart thumped faintly as he invoked the power tied to Preto. The Nightcrawler Champion bowed his head low, watching reverently as his Master channeled the ability he once wielded with arrogance.
At once, Draco's body shifted.
It wasn't like the disappearance of a mirage or the blur of speed—it was as though existence itself refused to acknowledge him. His body melted into a stream of invisible darkness, shrouded completely. He could still feel his hands, his feet, his heartbeat… but there was no light to reflect him, no air to announce his breath, no sound his body would normally make.
He had turned into something less than a shadow.
'This is… bizarre.'
Even Draco's voice no longer echoed in the open woods. It vibrated only in his mind, as if the air itself could not carry his sound. He looked down—or rather, he tried to.
His vision worked, but his body was gone.
His hands were invisible.
His very presence had evaporated.
"Master, your figure cannot be perceived. Not even Dragons would sense you now," Preto's voice rumbled, proud but also reverent. "That is the true glory of my Breath."
'Not bad for a Rank 3 Breath. If not for the System's lock-on effect, I would have definitely lost that match…' Draco smirked, walking forward.
His steps made no sound, his feet no prints.
When he pressed his palm against a tree bark, the wood didn't bend, didn't even acknowledge his weight. Yet Draco knew he was there.
'Perfect for assassination… but it comes at a cost.'
He could already feel the pressure of maintaining the form. His soul tugged heavily, as though the very shadows feeding his existence demanded a tax.
"Release."
Darkness unraveled from him like smoke dissipating into the air.
His body returned, solid and perceptible once more. He exhaled sharply, flexing his fingers.
'Ten seconds. That's how long I can hold it for now. Any longer, and it begins consuming stamina and mental focus too quickly.'
The corners of his lips curved upward. Ten seconds was enough. Enough to appear where no one expected him, enough to strike from invisibility. Enough to kill.
But he wasn't finished.
"Lumina."
The name rolled off his tongue almost instinctively, and the faint but steady glow of golden light radiated around his body. Lumina was still recovering, her body weakened and her presence faint—but Draco could still call on her Breath.
"[Let There Be Light]."
A dazzling radiance enveloped his form, saturating the woods with brilliance.
The shadows retreated as if afraid, the trees gleamed as if washed in divine fire. His muscles surged with newfound energy, his steps grew lighter, and the pounding of his heart accelerated with overwhelming vitality.
For a moment, Draco felt as though he could tear the forest in half.
'The synergy between these two Breaths… it's flawless.'
He tested it.
First, he cloaked himself in light, body brimming with speed and strength. Then, almost instantly, he whispered—
"[Into The Shadows]."
His glowing form winked out of existence. No radiance, no shadow, nothing. His entire presence disappeared while his enhanced body remained. The juxtaposition was staggering: absolute invisibility paired with heightened physical prowess.
Draco reappeared on a tree branch fifty meters away, grinning widely.
'So this is the kind of power I have at my fingertips.'
*********
For the next several days, Draco made the forest his training ground.
He moved through the dense undergrowth with Nyx padding silently behind him, Preto looming protectively from a distance.
Lumina was too weak to emerge, still curled in her cocoon of light within Draco's soul.
He felt it was a shame that he couldn't interact with his most powerful Dragon, but Draco was realistic about his expectations. Even if Lumina wasn't injured, he doubted he could summon her with the meager Essence he had as a result of his limited level.
Even so, he pushed forward. He trained relentlessly, alternating between cloaking himself in shadows and igniting his body in light.
Each day blurred into the next.
Morning, noon, and night, Draco honed himself. He learned to extend his [Into The Shadows] form by conserving stamina—moving slowly instead of sprinting, letting the darkness swallow him without resistance. He practiced combining [Let There Be Light] with his physical movements, learning to blind imaginary foes with bursts of radiance while enhancing his strikes with condensed beams of light.
He sparred with Preto, timing his invisibility to slip behind the massive Nightcrawler Champion before appearing in blinding glory. He commanded Nyx to dart forward, testing her reflexes as he alternated between vanishing and reappearing.
Little by little, Draco's coordination with his dragons deepened.
He became a ghost in the forest. A phantom of brilliance and shadow.
Yet outside of training, awkwardness lingered.
—Zara.
Whenever he returned to the house—sweat-soaked and dirt-stained—she was there.
She cooked. She cleaned.
She spoke to him casually when necessary, as though nothing had happened. As though her lips hadn't brushed his in that fragile moment days ago.
But Draco wasn't a fool.
He saw the way her eyes avoided his. He sensed the stiff politeness in her tone. He noticed how she found excuses to leave the room when silence lingered too long.
She avoided him, and the kiss hung between them like a ghost neither of them dared acknowledge.
Draco told himself it didn't matter. That training was more important, that his dragons and survival came first. Yet sometimes, when he lay awake at night, he wondered what her silence truly meant.
Still, he buried those thoughts. He had no time for such distractions.
It was on the fourth day that everything changed.
Deep in training, Draco didn't notice how far he had ventured. His mind swirled with strategies, his body cycling between light and shadow, until the familiar forest gave way to unfamiliar terrain.
It was only when his compass buzzed faintly in his hand that he paused.
"…?"
The pocket-watch-like device pulsed. The dull metallic arrow quivered unnaturally, pointing Northeast. Unlike before, where the compass displayed faint colors for the Nightcrawlers, this glow was stronger—richer.
Red.
'A new signal?' Draco's eyes narrowed.
Without hesitation, he followed.
Through tangled roots and overgrown foliage, deeper and deeper he went. The forest grew denser, stranger. Vines coiled like serpents, the air damp and heavy. The compass pulled him onward until, at last, the ground sloped downward into a rocky gorge.
There, hidden beneath a curtain of moss and stone, was an entrance.
An underground cavern.
Draco slipped through the narrow passage, his body brushing against wet stone, until he emerged into a vast subterranean space. His eyes widened at the sight before him.
"…A garden?"
Bioluminescent flowers painted the cavern in hues of violet and azure. Giant mushrooms pulsed faintly, casting an eerie glow. In the very center stretched a crystalline lake, its waters shimmering with otherworldly light.
But beauty wasn't what held Draco's attention.
It was the battle.
The cavern shook with roars that rattled the very walls. Water surged violently, geysers erupting from the lake's surface. Three massive Dragons of azure scales rose from the depths, their serpentine bodies weaving through the water with fluid grace. Their gills flared, their fins spread wide, and with each roar, torrents of water blasted outward.
Water Dragons.
Guardians of the lake.
But they weren't alone.
Across the crystalline garden, a hulking figure stood defiantly. Roots burst from the ground, entangling rocks and slamming against the water's surface. Vines whipped like blades, thorns glistened with venom. A massive Dragon cloaked in living flora snarled, its emerald eyes glowing with primal fury.
A Plant Dragon—the intruder.
The clash was brutal. Water surged against vines, waves crashed against roots. Every strike shook the cavern, sending droplets raining down from the stalactites above.
Draco stood frozen for a moment, hidden by the shadows at the cavern's edge, his compass glowing steadily in his hand.
'Two Dragon species… battling for territory?'
His lips curled into a grin.
'Perfect.'