Razel, the Dragonborn

We made our way toward the totem through the village, and the entire time, I could feel the villagers’ hateful gazes burning into me.

But I didn’t mind. In fact, it made me pity them. How must they feel, knowing their enemy could erase them in an instant? Fear, hate, sadness—splendid emotions, yet utterly useless without a target.

Then something caught my eye. A young child clutched a woman’s lifeless body, screaming and sobbing for someone—anyone—to save her, even though he knew she was already gone.

(How unpleasant.) The sight didn’t disgust me, yet something else simmered inside me—an emotion I would rather not experience.

And that wasn’t all that made the village so bleak. Corpses lay scattered across the ground, abandoned. Death was terrifying for any race, to say the least…

But why?

Why wasn’t I afraid when I died?

Not that the answer really mattered.

After a few more minutes of walking through the ruined village, stepping over bloodstained earth and ashes, we arrived at the south gate. It was shattered—just another useless structure waiting to be torn down.

As we were about to leave, an unexpected voice stopped us.

“Wait! I’ll come with you—to keep an eye on the Dragonborn.”

It was Gust. Clad in full armor, spear in hand, he glared at me. I waved at him with a friendly smile.

He scoffed, but Weiz allowed him to join with a single warning. “Behave yourself.”

That made me giggle. It was like Weiz was scolding a child.

I also noticed that dear Lia had been walking beside me the entire time, occasionally casting disdainful glances my way.

It made me smile. If I said something foolish again, would she slap me like before?

That was a tempting thought. Seeing that beautiful expression again… But I held myself back. Now wasn’t the time for games. We had to find the mana thief—quickly. The fool was even stealing some of my mana. Though, to me, it felt like an ant trying to bite a dragon.

We walked. And walked. And walked some more.

Nothing but nothing.

The so-called Dragon’s Realm was barren. Beautiful, yes, but utterly empty. No birds, no animals—nothing.

I sighed, my tail slamming against the ground. If I were alone, I could’ve flown ahead.

I let out an exaggerated groan.

“This is so boring~”

Lia smirked, clearly enjoying my misery.

“Well, get used to it. We still have a few hours to go.”

(Why did these fools place the totem so far away? Wouldn’t it be better to—)

Before I could finish my thought, a scent hit me. My sense of smell had drastically improved since I became a Dragonborn.

My eyes widened. Blood. Fresh.

Then, a wave of mana surged toward us like a tsunami, rattling the trees. Some soldiers dropped to their knees, unable to withstand the density.

“Everyone! Prepare for battle!” Weiz commanded.

The remaining soldiers, all two-horned or higher, readied their weapons, their gazes locked onto a lone figure approaching from the distance. An eerie mist trailed behind him, glowing eyes flickering within.

Then he spoke, his voice shaking the ground.

“Who dares set foot on my land?”

The soldiers trembled, their faces contorting in fear. Only Weiz and Lia stood firm, trying to steady them.

As for me?

I smiled.

The one releasing this monstrous mana—he was a Dragonborn. I knew it instinctively, even though we had never met.

I stepped forward, and as if shielding the Dragonkin, a wall of white fire erupted from my body, clashing against his dark aura. The forces canceled each other out.

The Dragonkin looked surprised. They hadn’t expected me to protect them.

Neither had I.

But this hooded figure intrigued me. And I wasn’t about to let him slip away.

His eyes flickered with recognition before he spoke.

“Who are you? Is this your domain?”

I tilted my head, curiosity lighting up my face.

“Domain? What’s that?”

“What? You don’t even know something so basic? I guess I was worried for nothing.”

A wide smirk spread across my lips. Did he really think he was being slick? Did he think I wouldn’t notice?

I glanced at Gust.

[Thread Manipulation]

A thin thread shot from my fingertip like a bullet, piercing his skull before he even realized it. He collapsed instantly, his spear clattering to the ground.

Lia snapped.

“What did you just do?! I’ll kill you!”

She rushed at me, fury blazing in her eyes, but Weiz raised an arm, stopping her.

“Stop, Lia.”

“But—”

Weiz pointed at the corpse.

Before our eyes, it liquefied into a black, jelly-like substance, seeping into the ground. A shadowy blur slithered toward the hooded man.

Lia’s expression shifted from rage to shock. Weiz, however, remained unsurprised.

I turned back to the hooded man. He pulled down his hood, revealing dark hair and even darker eyes.

He looked… annoyed.

“How did you know?” His voice was sharp. “That thing was planted in the village since its creation. No one suspected a thing. So how?”

My smirk widened.

“How, you ask? That’s easy. That thing pretending to be human—its emotions were out of order.”

He raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

I chuckled.

“It hated me the moment it saw me. Not like the others did—it was afraid. It wouldn’t even sit at the same table as me, yet it followed me to ‘keep an eye on me.’ And then, when the time came, it ran straight back to its master.”

(That was a lie. I used [>Origin Sight<] to check its mana levels. It didn’t contain the minimum amount needed for a living being.)

The man scoffed. “And you figured it out just from that? I find that hard to believe.”

I met his gaze, my expression unwavering.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe. You’re going to die here. I promised them I’d help. And I don’t want to be a liar.”

For a moment, he stared at me. Then a grin spread across his face, followed by a chuckle.

“You kill me? Me? The one known as the Master of Death? The great Razel?”

The soldiers behind me stiffened in terror. The name Razel clearly meant something to them.

I wanted to laugh at his theatrics, but I held back.

Then, his expression went blank. All emotion vanished in an instant.

And so did he.

He appeared before me in a blink, his black sword swinging down at my head.

[Thread Manipulation]

A web of thin threads shot up, blocking the strike. Sparks danced violently as the impact sent a gust of wind rippling through the air.

I was shocked. If [>Master of Observation<] hadn’t been active, I would’ve lost my head.

Razel used the force of the clash to propel himself back. Then, he spoke the words:

“I summon thee—battalion of the dead. Obey my order… Darkest Hour.”

The sky darkened. The air thickened, suffused with the scent of decay.

And so, my battle with a Dragonborn began.