- Hey, new chapter, I hope a little more smooth than the previous ones. Thanks, and Authors Out. -
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The Underworld sky never behaved like a proper sky. In the Human World, sunrise was predictable — pale blues melting into warm gold, slow and steady like nature intended. But here? Here, the heavens were a moody painter with caffeine withdrawal.
On the second after the duel, the sky burned in layered violet streaks, as if twilight and midnight and dawn all forgot whose turn it was. Stars glimmered faintly even as the horizon glowed. A world suspended between sleep and war.
It was fitting.
I stood at the foot of the Gremory estate — a massive victorian-gothic palace where wealth, demonic prestige, and questionable architectural choices collided. Towering spires, stained glass windows, a courtyard big enough to land a private jet in. Crimson banners hung from tall pillars, embroidered with the Gremory crest: a sigil of demonic nobility, power, and the occasional family drama.
Footsteps echoed softly behind me.
Rias Gremory approached, red hair cascading behind her like blood with self-conscience. Even with the casual outfit — a black dress with gold trim — she carried herself with the poise of someone born to be obeyed… and the exhaustion of someone tired of men trying to control her life.
Her eyes — the green-blue mix that always looked like it was thinking — settled on me.
"You won," she said simply.
"No fireworks? No dramatic gasp?" I asked. "I'm disappointed."
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile at the edge of her lips. "I'm not giving you the satisfaction. But yes… you won. And you did it cleanly."
"Like I said."
"You said a lot of things, Hyoudou-kun. And somehow, you've lived up to every one." She crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the nearest marble column. "Most would have demanded money, land, a piece of my peerage, political leverage… but you asked only for access to the Familiar Forest."
"That was the deal."
"I expected more personal requests," she said with a faint smirk.
I blinked. "Like what? Borrowing your shampoo?"
Her smile widened. "Something like that."
"You're beautiful," I admitted, because truth didn't cost anything. "But I'm not in the market to have a romance with every girl and women. Too busy. Too stubborn. Too tired. Pick one."
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then let out a breathy, amused sigh. "You are… impossible."
"Thanks."
She snapped her fingers. A crimson sigil spun into existence beside her, casting red light across the entrance. "This," she said, stepping aside to let the circle expand, "is your doorway to the Familiar Forest. The spell will drop you at the outer rings." I stared into the circle. The magic pulsed like a heartbeat. "Outer rings are fine," I said. "Everything deeper, I'll carve myself."
"Just—" She hesitated, something soft flickering behind her eyes. "Dragons change the world around them. Be careful how much you much you will change the place around you."
"I'll keep that in mind." And with a step, the circle swallowed me, and cofirmed the sygil with the authorization in my pocket. I emerged into light so saturated with mana it felt like I'd stepped into a dream painted by the god of hallucinogens. The trees towered high, ancient, their trunks spiraled with glowing veins of emerald and blue. The air shimmered like molten glass, thick with natural magic that clung to the skin and hummed in the bloodstream.
Leaves rustled without wind.Particles of mana drifted between branches like lazy fireflies.The ground beneath my boots pulsed faintly.
"This place is alive," I whispered.
[Alive is an understatement]. Ddraig's voice was a low rumble. [The Familiar Forest is older than most pantheons. Parts of it predated the energy of the Biblical God].
'You could've mentioned that before we came'.
[I enjoy surprises].
'Of course you do'.
The deeper I walked, the more the forest responded. Roots shifted subtly, clearing the path. Vines swayed toward me, humming like plucked string instruments. Air thickened with reverence. Some dragons species had left their mark here.
Ddraig hummed in satisfaction. [The forest still remember our kind. Good. It means you do not walk blind].
I followed the pull — a slow, steady drag in my chest, part instinct and part memory not entirely mine. The place was guiding me. Or judging me. Hard to tell with eldritch forests.
Half an hour passed before the first creature revealed itself.
A ripple of pale-blue mist condensed in front of me. Something small — no bigger than a mid sized dog — stepped out.
A Sprite Dragon.
Its scales glimmered like opal, wings a slightly translucent blue, eyes dark red. It took one look at me and instantly bowed low enough to kiss dirt.
"Un Hyfryd (Venerable one)," it said, voice musical and gentle, "mae eich awra... yn dwyn olion Coch Nefol (your aura… bears the mark of the Heavenly Red)."
Dragon-speech, very similar with welsh language for some reason. Old, archaic. A language that vibrated in bone and spirit.
"Rise," I answered in the same tongue — deeper, older, resonant enough to ripple the canopy overhead. "You sense correctly."
The Sprite's wings fluttered nervously. "You… carry him. The Red Emperor."
[At least someone here has manners.] Ddraig muttered.
The Sprite swallowed. "Great one, how may this humble hatchling serve?"
"You will not serve me," I said. "But you will serve someone under my protection."
Its head snapped up. "A human?"
"A girl," I corrected. "Asia Argento. A healer with a heart purer than your scales."
The Sprite vibrated in place. "You entrust a dragon to such a soul?"
"Yes," I said. "She's earned it."
The small dragon bowed deeply again. "Then I shall go to her. When she calls, I will answer. Her light will shape my growth."
Good. A companion for Asia. A guardian that she could shape instead of fear.
The Sprite dissolved into a swirl of shimmering particles — its teleportation signature.
Ddraig rumbled approvingly. [A wise choice. Hatchlings raised under kindness become more dangerous than those raised under wrath.]
'Is that a compliment?'
[Only if you don't let it go to your head.]
Hours passed as I trekked deeper. Mana thickened until it felt like I was wading through warm water. The forest grew darker but not in a threatening way — more like reverence, or awe in physical form. The trees leaned away from the path now, as though making room.
A distant pulse vibrated underfoot — rhythmic, slow, and impossibly vast. Like a giant's heartbeat. No. Not a giant's. A dragon's. The air grew hotter. Ahead from where I was, the cavern entrance and walls glowed faintly with blue fire.The scent of ozone and molten stone filled my lungs.
Ddraig's voice dropped to a whisper — something rare enough to make my skin prickle.
[So she still sleeps here…]
"She?"
[The Chaos Karma Dragon. Queen of the Middle East. One of the 5 Dragon Kings. Vicious, brilliant, impossible to reason with. And the most beautiful catastrophe you will ever see.]
"Tiamat," I breathed.
[Yes.]
The cavern mouth loomed before me — massive, jagged, humming with ancient wrath. The ground bore scorch marks in swirling patterns, as though the earth had once melted and reformed under divine fire.
A growl rumbled from inside.Not an attack.A warning.A statement. Someone had stepped into her den. I walked forward. The cavern swallowed me whole. Light dimmed. Heat thickened. Pressure pressed down like a mountain balancing on my shoulders. Even without seeing her, I felt her presence. An ocean wearing the skin of a creature. A storm trapped in bone and muscle. A force of nature that could rewrite terrain by breathing wrong.
I walked until the cavern expanded into a massive hollow — a chamber larger than a sports stadium. Pools of molten stone glowed across the floor, casting ripples of orange and red on the walls.
Then she moved.
A mountain of blue scales shifted. A golden eye — slit-pupiled, ancient, and terrifying — snapped open, illuminating the chamber in shimmering azure.
The Chaos Karma Dragon had woken.
Tiamat lifted her head, horns making a beautiful arc. Her wings, when they unfurled slightly, cast shadows that looked like continents. She wasn't just large. She was almost geological. Her gaze pinned me like a dagger pressed to my throat.
"You," she said — her voice a chorus, layered, echoing. "You carry his stench."
My jaw tightened. "Good morning to you too."
A ripple of amusement — or maybe annoyance — flickered across her enormous maw. She leaned closer, her hot breath washing over me like a furnace at full blast.
"Why," Tiamat growled, "does the Red Emperor's aura cling to a puny human hatchling? I was expecting someone stronger."
[She will try to tear you apart.]
'Comforting. Thanks.'
[It is not a prediction. It is a tradition.]
"I'm his host," I said. "And I came to speak, not fight."
Tiamat's laugh was a sound that rearranged internal organs.
"Speak? Humans beg. Devils bargain. Dragons take." She lowered her head until one massive golden eye stared directly into mine. "You are none of those. So what are you, little spark?"
"I'm the one who woke you up," I said calmly. "So I'd appreciate it if you didn't incinerate me before breakfast."
A rumbling growl. Her maw opened slightly — not to attack, but to smell. Dragons didn't rely on sight alone. She inhaled once. All flames erupted at the cavern walls. She reared her head back sharply.
"What…" Her voice trembled — not with fear, but shock. "What are you carrying?"
Oh boy. Here we go.
"What specifically," I said, raising my arm. The emerald jewel glowed faintly. "The Boosted Gear? I thought you already knew about it."
"No." Her eyes narrowed." That is not all."
I exhaled slowly. "Ever heard of Ashdod?"
Her pupils contracted. The cavern's temperature dropped by thirty degrees instantly, even though her flames were heating up.
"You carry," she growled, voice deepening into a snarl, "the dragon-slayer lance forged by the saint who butchered poor Karyan."
"Yep."
"And you let its sacred fire merge with you."
"Also yes."
"And you dare walk into my den," she roared, flames bursting behind her, "wearing the power that killed our kin?!"
[Partner… run.]
'Too late.'
Tiamat lunged.
Her claw came down like a meteor. I rolled aside, landing on scorched stone just before her talons gouged trenches six feet deep. The air ignited. Flames rushed across the chamber in spiraling blue waves. I slammed my hand to the ground — earth responding instantly, forming a wall of obsidian that melted a second later under Tiamat's breath.
"You idiot hatchling!" she thundered, swinging her tail. "Did you think dragons ask politely?!"
A whip of azure fire rushed toward me. I countered with a burst of my own — crimson and gold, sacred and volcanic.
The flames collided — red and blue — singing in violent harmony.
[You cannot overpower her!] Ddraig barked.
'Not trying to.'
[Then WHAT are you trying to—]
'Survive long enough to talk.'
I dodged another strike, wings flaring to redirect the airflow. The shockwave still sent me tumbling across the floor. Tiamat charged — a wall of scales and divine fury.
When her jaws snapped down, I forced my aura outward — a dome of fused fire and earth, basically lava. Her bite struck it, sparks flying like dying stars.
She pulled back, eyes narrowed.
"You… are not pure draconic flame."
"No," I said, panting, "but I don't need to be."
I straightened, dust falling from my clothes.
"I'm not here to disrespect Karyan or any dragon. His memories live in me. His wrath too. But so does his last wish — the desire for justice, not just vengeance."
Tiamat stilled.
"You carry his echo?"
"Yes." I let the aura pulse gently from my chest — a faint resonance of Karyan's dying breath. "He wasn't angry at Saint George. He was angry at the chains binding Ddraig, and how he didn't did anything to the humans from Lybia, but he was murdered nonetheless."
The flames around her dimmed — just slightly.
"And you…" she said slowly, "wish to break them."
"No, it's impossible, the physical body of Ddraig is alredy dead, but I want tobe free, and complete the last wish for justice, of Karyan."
Silence echoed. Ancient. Heavy. Her eyes narrowed in calculation.
"Little spark," she finally said, lowering her head, "you are either the greatest fool to walk this forest… or the first human worth speaking to in a thousand years."
"I get that a lot."
A low, grudging growl.
She stepped back. Not a retreat — an acknowledgment.
"State your purpose," she said. "Before I decide whether you leave on foot or as ash."
I exhaled slowly.
"I want knowledge," I said. "Not a familiar. Not a blessing. Not even power."
Tiamat tilted her enormous head. "Then what knowledge does a half-broken hatchling desire?"
"To know where," I said. "Where the last Leviathan descendant is. About the curse placed on her. About why she is in a coma."
The cavern vibrated. She stared at me — not with anger, but with an ancient sadness I didn't expect.
"So you finally ask the question no one dares."
"I'm a dragon, not anyone."
"You are a dragonling," she corrected. "Whether by destiny or insanity."
She lowered herself slowly — like a mountain kneeling.
"Very well, little spark," she said. "You will have your truth. Follow me."
She turned deeper into the cavern — toward glowing tunnels carved by time itself. Before I followed, Ddraig rumbled, voice quiet.
[Partner… be careful.]
'Since when do you get worried?'
[Since you impressed the most temperamental female in existence. She may choose to teach you… or eat you.]
'Noted.'
[Also—]
'Yeah?'
[Try not to flirt. She hates that.]
'…Wasn't planning to.'
We descended — deeper than natural rock should allow. The air thickened with dragon magic until breathing felt like inhaling thunderclouds.
At the bottom lay a vast chamber lit by glowing glyphs older than any written language.
Tiamat curled around the center — a massive pool of liquid mana that pulsed like a heart.
"This," she said, "is where the Heavenly Dragons were born."
A chill ran through me."Born… but who gave birth to them?"
"The Biblical God. And the Egyptian gods. And the Shinto elder god's. And many others. But mainly the Celtic and Brythonnic gods. Threats of their scale are never allowed to be made by just one faction."
I clenched my jaw. "That's why Ddraig and Albion were sealed in gears when the other factions were in their weakest."
"Yes." Her golden eyes softened — for just a heartbeat. "And why I sleep here. Because it helps me replenish my mana pool faster than the normal."
I was a little amused.
Dragons — the apex beings — using chargers like a cellphone...
"And you…" Tiamat said, lowering her head to my level, "…wish to find the descendant of the Maou of the Oceans."
"I wish to give her a choice," I said. "One no one else will ever gave her probably."
Her tail curled slowly.
"You carry fire. Sacred. Draconic. Human. A contradiction that should not exist."
"Yet here I am."
She huffed. "A miracle or a mistake. Hard to tell with your kind."
Then she leaned in until her muzzle stopped inches from my chest.
"If you want the knowledge… Then you must earn it not through battle… But through flame."
I swallowed. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," she growled, "you survive my breath without dying. If you live, I tell you. If you die, you die."
[Partner—]
'Yeah, I know. Hard mode.'
[Hard mode? This is suicide mode, boy. Don't be a mongrel!]
'She's giving a choice. I'm taking it.'
[YOU ARE AN IDIOT—]
But I already stepped onto the glowing circle.
And Tiamat inhaled.
Blue fire ignited. A wall of pure draconic heat tore toward me — hotter than magma, older than half the gods, sacred enough to strip flesh from existence.
I summoned everything.
Boosted Gear flared.
[Boost!][Boost!][Boost!][Boost!]
Crimson scales crawled across my arms. Wings erupted from my back, sacred fire swirling beneath them. The ashes of Karyan's will ignited, joining the blaze of Ddraig's power.
I roared — not human. Not dragon. Something in-between. The flames hit. My shield cracked instantly. The heat tore into my aura, shredding defenses. Skin burned. Muscles screamed. Vision whitewashed. But my feet stayed planted. Every pulse of fire hammered against me — trying to erase me. I screamed through clenched teeth.
"DRAGON… FIRE… DOESN'T… BREAK… ME!"
I pushed forward. A step. Another. Another. The flames intensified — then suddenly stopped. Tiamat stared, her enormous eyes wide with disbelief.
"You…" she whispered, "…took three seconds of my true breath."
"Felt like forty," I rasped.
She stepped back. Then bowed her head.
The Queen of the Middle East bowed.
"You have earned the knowledge, little spark," she said softly. "And perhaps… the world is not ready for what you will become."
Behind my ribs, Ddraig laughed — loud, proud, triumphant.
[PARTNER… YOU MAD, PUNY BASTARD. YOU DID IT.]
I collapsed to one knee, panting, shaking, half-burned, but alive.
And Tiamat whispered:
"Welcome… to the Dragon's Den."
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