Draco's muscles tightened as the Rank 3 Dragon raised Jet higher, its massive claw curling around the boy like a vice.

Jet's normally cocky expression had been stripped away; his face was pale, his eyes wide with pure fear.

He was shaking in horror!

Draco's mind was on fire as he witnessed this.

'Do I risk it? Do I reveal what I've been hiding?' His power throbbed within, begging to be unleashed.

One strike might not be able to end this Dragon, but it could at least save Jet.

However… the second he did it, questions would rain down on him like arrows.

His life in the Academy would be practically over. He could lose hisnchance to become a Dragon Hunter.

… He could die.

He was on the verge of acting when a noise rang out behind him.

"Draco! Jet! What the hell happened?!"

The shout came with the pounding of footsteps. One by one, dorm doors slammed open, and students rushed out into the night. Some were still half-dressed, others fully geared in their Academy-issued armor, but all carried the glowing presence of their D-H.

The Rank 3 Dragon twisted its head, eyes like molten gold scanning the new arrivals. Its deep growl shook the air, a sound that pressed into every chest like a weight.

Draco's heart both soared and sank.

'They came. Thank the heavens they came…'

Yet his relief was tangled with dread.

Backup was great, but these students weren't very strong. They only had Rank 1 D-H. In numbers they could make a difference, but against something like this?

Still, there was no other option.

If he fought alone, Jet would die. If he revealed himself, he would definitely regret it. But with them? Maybe, just maybe, they could stall until a higher-ranked instructor arrived.

"Everyone! Form up!" Draco shouted, his voice cutting through the panic.

His tone carried authority—sharp, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

The group skidded to a halt, dozens of students looking to him.

'It's really come to this, huh?' Draco let out turbid air as his brows furrowed with resolve. 'So be it!'

The Rank 3 Dragon snarled, lowering its head like a predator ready to lunge. Jet dangled helplessly in its grip, his body shaking.

Draco pointed quickly, his eyes flicking to each student.

"I don't need speeches. Just listen. If you panic, you die. If you don't listen, he dies." He jabbed a finger at Jet. "Understood?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Fear was in their eyes, but something steadier too—a determination not to run.

"Good. Tell me your D-H. Now. Fast."

The students called out, one after another.

"Rock Basilisk!"

"Storm Hawk!"

"Shadow Wolf!"

"Flame Mantis!"

"Crystal Turtle!"

"Water Serpent!"

The list went on, filling Draco's head with possibilities.

These were all Dragon species that the D-H was named after.

Each D-H carried strengths and weaknesses, but none were anywhere near enough to match a Rank 3. That wasn't the point, though.

'We don't need to win. Just buy time…'

Draco lifted his hand for silence, thinking quickly. His words came out clipped, precise, leaving no space for doubt.

"Those with tough, defensive Hearts—Crystal Turtle, Iron Rhino, Stone Golem—you're front line. Your only job is to survive. Put yourselves between that Dragon and Jet. Don't try to trade blows. Just block. Anchor us."

The three nodded, stepping forward, their bodies already glowing faintly as their Dragon-Hearts resonated with their intent.

"Agility types—Storm Hawk, Shadow Wolf, Phantom Cat—you circle its legs. Strike quick, annoy it, cut its tendons if you can. But don't stay close. Hit, move, repeat."

Another group answered with fierce expressions, already spreading into position.

"Elemental Hearts—Flame Mantis, Frost Spider, Water Serpent, Thunder Crow—you're our artillery. Stay at range. Keep the pressure high. Blind it, burn it, slow it. We don't need damage, we need distractions."

They raised their weapons or hands, determination replacing some of the panic.

Draco turned to the last cluster. "Support types. Buffers, illusionists—you know what to do. Keep the others alive. If someone falls, drag them out. If you can't save them, don't waste yourself."

His voice had hardened like steel, but his insides twisted.

'They're kids. Same as me. Throwing them into this fight could mean…' He clenched his fist. 'No. They know the risks. They chose to stay. We can do this!'

The Rank 3 Dragon gave an ear-splitting roar, annoyed by the sudden organization. Its claw began to squeeze tighter around Jet, whose scream ripped out into the night.

"MOVE!" Draco barked.

The group scattered into formation, just as the Dragon's tail whipped around like a falling tree. The defenders braced, two thrown back instantly from the sheer force, but the third—Crystal Turtle—managed to stand firm, sliding several feet but holding the line.

The others sprang into action. Bolts of fire, lightning, and water arced through the air, slamming into the Dragon's scales. They barely scratched the surface, but the effect was immediate—the beast growled, its attention divided.

Agility types darted in, blades flashing as they slashed at its ankles and wings. The Dragon snapped back with its tail and claws, but their speed let them dodge most of the strikes.

Draco himself moved into the center, while stacking the effects of multiple Rank 1 Plant Dragon D-H. The power burst forth, causing vines to writhe like living whips.

He directed it to entangle the Dragon's other arm, pulling against its grip on Jet.

"Hold it steady!" Draco commanded, sweat already forming at his brow.

Jet groaned, still trapped but at least not crushed completely.

The coordination was working—for now.

But Draco knew the truth: this was survival, not victory. Every second felt borrowed.

"Keep the pressure! Don't let it breathe!" he shouted, his mind calculating. The Dragon's wings twitched, ready to take flight. That couldn't happen. If it got into the air, their formation would scatter instantly.

"Storm Hawk, Thunder Crow—clip its wings!" Draco ordered.

Two figures leapt skyward, striking hard. Sparks and wind bursts exploded against the Dragon's wing joints. It howled, shaking the ground, and swung its free claw wildly, forcing them back.

'It's working… but for how long?' Draco's jaw tightened.

The Dragon slammed its body down, crushing one of the agility types underfoot. A scream echoed, cut short, and Draco flinched but didn't stop.

"Don't break formation! Pull him out if you can, but stay on target!"

His own Plant Dragon strained, vines creaking, as the beast pulled harder against its restraint. Jet dangled like a broken doll, barely conscious now.

Draco's chest ached.

The students looked to him, fear and faith mingled in their eyes. They were holding on, only because he told them how. The weight of their trust pressed heavy on his shoulders.

He forced his voice steady.

"We hold until help arrives. That's the plan. Nothing more, nothing less. Hold."

The Rank 3 Dragon roared again, eyes blazing with primal fury. And for the first time, Draco roared back—not with power, but with command.

"FORMATION!"

The battlefield trembled as students dug in, ready for the next clash.

And Draco, heart pounding, had a very strange thought at this moment.

'This thing… is it actually a Dragon??'

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