Nighttime. Beneath the starry sky…
Veyron stood in silence, gazing at the stars that adorned the night sky like scattered jewels. His expression was distant, lost in thought—troubled by a single, lingering question:
Where is that old parchment now?
He let out a long sigh, only to hear footsteps approaching from behind.
"Hey, why so quiet? What's wrong? Got dumped or something? Hahaha!"
Taeryun appeared with a wide grin plastered on his face.
"You wish. I wouldn't get heartbroken just from looking at beautiful stars."
"I know you miss your mom. It's written all over your eyes."
"Oh really, now?"
They both burst into laughter, shattering the quiet night with warmth and familiarity.
"Don't stay sad for too long, Veyron. If your mother could see you like this, she'd be heartbroken too."
"Come on, man. Chin up. You still have a tournament to win tomorrow, don't you?"
Taeryun waved him off and headed back to the tournament lodging. Though he'd lost earlier, he was still allowed to remain until the tournament concluded. Just before the door shut behind him, he tossed a piece of wood at Veyron.
"Oww… Damn it, Taeryun!"
"Hahaha! Now that's more like it. Anger and laughter—much better than gloom."
He closed the door, laughing. Veyron turned his eyes back to the sky, clutching an old family photo in his hand.
He raised his hands to the stars above.
'Infinity Magic'
His body began to emit a soft glow. The wind swirled around him from every direction. His hair fluttered, his clothes stirred by a newly awakened force from within.
"…My body seems to know exactly what to do… even though this is the first time I've cast this spell."
---
In the Realm of Chaos…
Chaotic energy collided in a blinding storm, coalescing into a radiant core.
From the light, a baby took form—then instantly matured into an eighteen-year-old woman.
"I am the answer to imbalance. Someone has disturbed the threads of fate… and they must be removed."
Without another word, she stepped out of the chaotic realm, heading toward a place drenched in dread—
A place too terrifying… even for the gods.
---
Back in the mortal world…
As night deepened, Veyron awoke—not from a nightmare, but from a foreign aura closing in on his world.
"This presence... It's far more terrifying than even Xuantian's. Who… has arrived in this world?"
He felt as if an invisible gaze had fallen upon him.
As if the universe itself… had taken notice.
---
The Next Morning…
Veyron walked through the academy corridors, still haunted by last night's encounter.
THUD!
"ARGH!"
Taeryun slammed into him from the side—again.
"Morning, Veyron! You look way too serious."
"Damn it, Taeryun! Can't you greet me like a normal person?!"
"Hahaha, sorry. But really—I'm just glad you're smiling again. Tell me—what's been on your mind?"
"Not telling."
"You're so stingy, Veyron."
Taeryun pouted. Veyron just laughed.
"Hahaha! Don't sulk, you brat."
Their banter echoed with laughter. But from afar, Lyra watched them with soft, wistful eyes.
"I want to be his friend… But he's a prince, and I'm just a commoner."
When Veyron turned, their eyes met. Lyra panicked.
SLAM!!
She ran straight into a wall.
Startled, Veyron and Taeryun rushed over.
"Ow… Lyra? Are you okay?"
"I-I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."
Veyron panicked. "You're bleeding! Where's a bucket?! A bucket—give me a bucket!"
He scrambled in all directions. Taeryun fell over, laughing hysterically.
"Hahahaha! Veyron IS the bucket!"
Enraged, Veyron grabbed an actual bucket and THWACK!—smashed it onto Taeryun's head.
"You're so damn noisy! But… you made me laugh."
Even so, a storm of unease still lingered in Veyron's heart.
"Lyra, why are you smiling? You're still bleeding, you know…"
"Veyron… you panicked so much. Don't tell me you like Lyra?"
Silence. Every head turned toward Veyron.
He said nothing. Just walked off to his room.
Minutes later...
He returned, holding a wooden sword wrapped in iron—and a rope.
"Taeryun, you talk too much… tch."
"Wait, hey—"
Veyron dragged him to the center of the hall and tied him to a wooden board.
"Veyron! Hahahaha! Are you seriously doing this?!"
"Why the hell are you still laughing?!"
Taeryun laughed uncontrollably.
"Hahaha! I swear it's not you—it's… there's a bird feather stuck to my foot!"
Everyone looked down. Sure enough, a feather was there.
Veyron smirked. "So that's what's tickling you. Want me to remove it?"
"Y-yeah… please… hahaha!"
"Okay then."
He hoisted the board high, as if about to launch Taeryun like a kite.
"NO, VEYRON! DON'T THROW ME!"
"Farewell, my friend. Didn't you say you wanted an adventure to the edge of the world?"
WHOOSH!
Taeryun was flung into the air.
Everyone went silent.
"Finally… the madman is dealt with. Lyra, shall we begin our battle?"
---
Elsewhere…
Taeryun was still airborne, face resigned—
And yet, he laughed.
"My friend's truly insane… When will this flight end…"
---
Tournament Arena. Finals Begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you've all been waiting for—the Final Match of the Tournament!"
The crowd roared. All eyes turned to the two remaining fighters:
Veyron Aldrecht – the undefeated prodigy from a noble family.
Lyra – the mysterious talent from humble origins.
"The battle… begins!"
Their bodies surged forward—two streaks of light clashing mid-air. Steel sang, sparks danced.
"Veyron… You're incredible. You can keep up with my speed."
"You too, Lyra. Your feints almost fooled me."
Locked in a deadly exchange, then suddenly—
"Technique Three: Elegant Ice Dance!"
Lyra's movement was so graceful that Veyron froze—literally. A cut bloomed across his chest. He stumbled back, breath ragged.
"Damn… I was… mesmerized."
Veyron clenched his jaw.
"Shadow Step Technique…!"
He vanished. The audience gasped.
Then—
"Technique Five: Lightning Fang!"
"Technique Seven: Thunder Tiger!"
But Lyra dodged them all with fluid grace. As she unleashed her final blow—
"FROST SLASH!"
Veyron's body split in two. The crowd screamed.
"THE WINN—"
"Wait."
Lyra interrupted.
"He's… not dead. I'll wait for him."
---
In the White Room…
Veyron stood surrounded by light. A woman appeared, touching his chest.
No words—just warmth. Something… familiar.
When he awoke, a new aura enveloped him.
"Xuantian…?"
[Activation: Sword of Gabriel transforms into Sword of Xuantian. Replace Techniques. Activate Dragon Transformation?]
"Yes."
Horns, wings, and dragon eyes emerged. His body shifted into a half-dragon form.
"W-wait! That's Veyron?! He's turning into… a dragon?!"
"Then let the second battle begin, Lyra."
Veyron launched forward.
BOOOM!
CRACK!
Lyra flew backward, blood trailing from her lips. Veyron struck again and again.
"DRAGON SWORD TECHNIQUE: TIANLONG SHATTERING!!"
The strike split the sky. Arena barriers shattered. Even the heavens cracked like glass.
Lyra tried to block—but it was too late. Veyron stood trembling… then collapsed.
---
On a distant cliff…
A man in a dark cloak stood atop a jagged precipice, the wind tugging at his tattered robes. On his collar—an ancient symbol. Faded. Forgotten. Yet it radiated a presence that did not belong in this world.
Before him, a magical screen hovered, showing Veyron being crowned champion. Applause roared in the background.
But the man did not react. His face remained blank—emotionless.
Except for one thing.
A faint smile curled on his lips.
Not victory. Not pride.
But… approval.
As if he had waited decades, perhaps centuries, for this very moment—
And the final piece had finally moved into place.
"…At last. The path begins to open."
The screen shimmered and shifted—now revealing an old man. Bald, long white beard, eyes glowing with unfathomable wisdom.
He stood within a dark forest, surrounded by ancient magical sigils visible only to certain eyes.
He nodded slowly and whispered—his voice echoing through dimensions:
"That boy… fascinating. Too fascinating. His aura… even dragons shiver before it."
"I've waited far too long for someone like him. Even if he has chosen a master… I don't care. He must be mine."
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere…
Behind the cold stone walls of the Aldrecht palace, as dusk claimed the skies…
A man stood before a massive window, his back to the room. He wore a regal golden robe, silver-gray hair cascading to his shoulders.
The Head of House Aldrecht.
The King of Elarion.
Veyron's father.
He watched the burning horizon, silent in thought.
Then he smiled.
But this smile was unlike the others—not approval. Not pride.
It was… calculation.
A cold, sharp smile. Like a hidden blade long kept in shadow.
"So… you've finally bared your fangs, Veyron."
"You grow quickly. But not quickly enough to surpass him…"
"What's the next move, I wonder?"
He turned slowly to face a shadowy figure kneeling in the darkness, unseen by the light.
"Set him in motion. It's time for Veyron to face… 'the choice.'"
The room fell silent once more.
But the wind through the window whispered—
The world had begun to turn on a darker axis, and the young champion… had no idea.
---
"The winner of the tournament is… Veyron Aldrecht!!"
The arena roared in celebration. Taeryun wept while laughing.
From the shadows, a figure who had watched Veyron all along… smiled.
---
Red Cave.
Within the crimson depths, a figure sat motionless.
The scent of blood, ancient magic, and fractured time thickened the air.
"Soon… he will come."
The figure smiled faintly.
Whether from certainty, or a memory rewritten by fate—none could tell.
---
Chapter 11 Completed