Kael couldn't move.

Not because his body refused him—his body was overflowing with new power, a proof of which was his two extra newly grown horns—but because nothing he did mattered.

Every instinct screamed, every muscle burned to fight or flee, yet all of it collapsed beneath the quiet dominance of the man hovering before him.

Helplessness settled in his chest like cold iron.

The scarred man watched him for a moment, then smiled—not cruelly, not kindly, but with the detached interest of a scholar observing a rare specimen.

"How rude of me," he said calmly. "I suppose introductions are in order."

But before he could continue, his gaze drifted to the torn place where Kael's wing had been ripped away.

Then his eyes narrowed.

"…Oh?"

The shredded flesh was already knitting together. Bone reformed with wet cracks, membranes stretched and sealed, and scales crawling back into place as if time itself were being overwritten.

The man let out a low hum of intrigue. "Fascinating. I saw you regenerate quickly when Astra died—" his eyes flicked briefly, almost absently, to the place where the woman had been erased "—but seeing it again so soon still amazes me."

He looked genuinely impressed.

"This rate of healing is far beyond anything I've encountered."

Kael's breath came out ragged.

Then he laughed.

It was a broken, wet sound, golden blood dripping from his mouth as he looked down at the man.

"Some leader you are, huh?" Kael rasped, despite the situation. "Watching your subordinates die… when you could've saved them. Especially her."

For the first time, the man paused, knowing it was the truth.

If other supremes learned about this, then he might have to face some repercussions.

But his silence was only momentary.

A second later, his smile returned—wider.

"In my opinion," he said lightly. "Those with power decide the fate of those without it."

He didn't care about anything Kael thought because there was no way any other supreme would get any information about this incident.

But that was not all he did as his fingers twitched.

Both of Kael's wings—including the one that had just healed—were torn apart at once. Mana ripped through them like invisible claws, shredding flesh, snapping bone, and scattering golden blood across the sky.

Kael roared, the sound raw and feral.

Unbothered, the man continued, "The only reason I let that happen was that you seemed desperate. I wanted to see what kind of surprise you would give me if I let you kill Astra."

He tilted his head. "An EX-ranker is valuable, yes—but nothing compared to studying a dragon like you."

Kael's roar died.

The man's eyes sharpened as he quickly changed the subject. "And with this power… I can do many other things."

He smiled again.

"For instance—I could kill everyone you teleported away."

Kael froze.

The words didn't echo.

They landed.

The man's gaze flicked to the distorted space nearby. "There's still a remnant of long-distance teleportation here. If I wished, I could trace it. Find where it leads."

His smile turned thin.

"And once I do… I would erase everything on the other side."

Kael's pupils shrank.

The man chuckled. "Ah. That hit the mark, didn't it?"

"But wait." Then his grin widened further. "Perhaps I wouldn't kill everyone."

He leaned closer, voice lowering. "That village of yours… There must be beautiful demihumans there."

The moment he said that, Kael flinched.

The man's eyes lit up. "Aha. There are."

He laughed softly. "Are they close to you?"

Faces flashed through Kael's mind—Lyra's gentle smile, Selene's quiet resolve, Evethra's unwavering devotion, and Alenia's calm eyes.

His blood ran cold.

The man's grin sharpened as he read everything from Kael's expressions alone. "I thought so. Imagine what I could do with them. There are plenty of buyers willing to pay dearly for such slaves."

Chains.

Blood.

Broken bodies.

The image ripped through Kael's mind like a blade, even though he knew that they would all die before ever returning to those chains.

"SHUT UP!!"

Kael's body trembled as he roared, the sound shaking the air.

The man raised a brow. "Why should I?" He asked mildly. "I'm the stronger one here."

"SHUT UP!!!!"

Kael roared again, his breath ragged as he was again reminded of how much was at stake here.

'I am a fucking dragon! Why can't I even protect a small town?!'

No matter how much he tried not to, the image of everyone in the village dead kept surfacing in his mind.

Even more so now, when he was facing a being he couldn't even move against.

'Why can't I be as powerful as I was in that dream?!'

He roared inwardly, recalling the dreams he had seen on his first ten days in this world.

'Why?! WHY?! WHY?!?!?!?!'

Without even him realizing, Kael's golden eyes began to change.

Slowly.

So slowly that the man didn't notice at first.

Gold darkened—bleeding into void black.

[Stop!]

[Host! Stop! We can't have you going berserk!]

For the first time, his instincts sounded humane.

It was as if it had emotions, and it was desperately trying to stop Kael.

[If you continue this, then there would be no second chance! By the time we get another chance, there would be nothing to save!!!!]

[Please, WAKE THE FUCK UP, KR#$!%@&!!!!]

Kael, however, couldn't see any of that now.

All he could think of was why he was so weak when he was supposed to be a mighty dragon stronger than anyone else.

Why was the world so ruthless toward him?

Why did it want to take away things from him when he was getting to love them?!

The ground shuddered.

At first, the man frowned. "An earthquake?"

But less than a second later, the air trembled.

Mana quivered.

The scarred man's mana.

The man's eyes widened slightly as he realized the source.

"…You," he muttered.

Kael's body shook harder. The ground split open beneath him, massive fissures tearing through the battlefield. Black clouds churned overhead, thunder rolling without lightning.

"Stop this," the man said, irritation creeping into his voice. "This won't end well for you."

The trembling worsened.

Annoyed, the man moved.

Kael's limbs were torn apart—arms shredded, legs ripped away—

—And healed instantly. The speed was so fast that the man was doubting if he even ripped anything away.

Finally, the man's smile vanished.

Then he noticed something else.

Kael's body was cracking.

And above all, his horns were changing.

They were turning black.

Ominous. Devouring light.

For the first time in decades, the scarred man felt a tremor in his heart.

The quake had spread far beyond the battlefield now. Across the continent, the demihuman empire felt it, even the human domain. Mountains groaned. Seas churned.

The man himself was trembling.

"This is enough," he said sharply, turning toward Kael.

But as he turned toward Kael, he realized something.

The spacelock on Kael had vanished.

And that was not all, as Kael's eyes, which were now completely black and bottomless, were staring straight at him.

Suddenly, the whole vibe changed.

Unlike before, when the man felt like he was floating before a weak toy he could control anyway he wanted, now it was completely different.

Right now, the man felt like an insignificant mortal standing before a god.

He felt small.

Like a pebble.

It was as if Kael could eat him any second.

It was then that the scarred man finally noticed it.

Not the horns. Not the eyes.

Kael's body.

Cracks were spreading across it—thin at first, then widening—running through scales, muscle, and even the space around him.

It looked as though reality itself was struggling to contain what Kael was becoming. Golden blood no longer flowed cleanly; it evaporated midair, turning into black motes that sank back into him.

"…So that's it," the man muttered, awe and alarm mixing in his voice.

This power wasn't stable.

It wasn't meant to be borne.

Whatever Kael was doing—whatever he had awakened—it was breaking him from the inside.

The man exhaled sharply. 'If I leave him like this… he'll die on his own.'

And for the first time since he arrived, calculation gave way to instinct.

"This isn't worth it," he said under his breath. "Mission be damned."

A dead dragon was useless.

Alive or broken didn't matter anymore—he wanted to run away.

He turned.

Tried to step back.

Tried to bend mana, to tear space, to do anything—

—And realized he could move.

His limbs obeyed him.

His mana responded.

Relief flickered—

But then he felt it.

A presence.

He slowly turned his head.

Kael was smiling.

Not a snarl.

Not a roar.

A grin—wide, crooked, and wrong—stretched across the face of a dragon that filled the sky.

His massive body loomed there, one hundred and fifty meters of cracked divinity, wings spread as if to blot out the world. Black light leaked from the fractures in his scales, and the void in his eyes reflected the man perfectly.

For the first time in his life, the scarred man felt truly frozen.

His body locked.

His breath stopped.

His mana stilled—not suppressed, but ignored.

The grin deepened.

Kael said nothing.

He didn't need to.

The words carved themselves directly into the man's mind, carried by instinct, terror, and a certainty older than language.

"Doesn't feel that good…"

The space around them tightened.

"…when it's you who's frozen in place, right?"

The world went silent.

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