Yes, I am from another world."
Asher rose to his feet, his posture calm yet commanding. A faint blue shimmer of mana surrounded him, subtle but unmistakable—a pulse of life echoing in the quiet air. His gaze locked onto the figure before him, steady and unflinching.
The figure smirked, lounging on a chair that had materialized out of nowhere, shadows clinging to its edges. "That's… interesting. A Valcren possessed by another soul."
Asher tilted his head, curiosity and challenge mixing in his eyes. "Why? Is that impossible?"
"Impossible?" The figure's lips curved into a faint, amused smile. "No… forbidden. I blessed the Valcren bloodline so no other soul could ever claim them. For thousands of years, none have… until now."
Asher's own chair formed beneath him, sharp crystalline lines humming softly with energy. He sat, relaxed, letting the glow of his aura spread subtly through the space. "Well, what can I say? I'm born special."
The figure's eyes widened. The same boy who had collapsed from mana depletion minutes ago now sat upright, confident, composed, his presence commanding. A wave of calm authority radiated from him, unshakable and unnerving.
"Tell me," the figure said, voice sharp with curiosity and a trace of disbelief, "how did you do that? How did you take over the body of a Valcren?"
Asher met the gaze steadily. "Why don't you tell me who you are first—and how you're related to the Valcrens?"
Annoyance flickered across the man's features. "I asked first."
"The world runs on trades," Asher replied, voice steady, calm, almost teasing.
The figure's jaw tightened. "No one has spoken to me like that in centuries, boy."
"So what am I supposed to do?" Asher countered. "Kneel?"
A deep sigh echoed, heavy and full of ancient weariness. Then the figure straightened, golden eyes flaring like twin suns in the darkness.
"I am Nova Valcren—the Great Dragon King. Once the supreme ruler, the invincible, the genius unmatched by any in history… or the Fallen Dragon, as some now call me."
Asher's curiosity sharpened. "Nova… the founder of the Valcren household. Are you truly him?"
"I will tell you later," Nova replied, tone firm. "For now… tell me how you came to possess that body."
"I didn't do anything," Asher answered, calm and certain. "The person who owned this body sent me here."
Nova's brows furrowed. "Impossible. No one possesses such power… save a handful of ancient beings."
"He said he used some artifact," Asher explained.
Nova fell silent, the air thickening with the weight of millennia. He stared at the boy, eyes distant, as if recalling the long-dead eras.
"Now… how are you related to the Valcrens?" Asher asked again.
Nova's face hardened, his tone darkening. "Do not interrupt."
The chamber seemed to constrict as Nova spoke, his words vibrating through the air.
"I was once a king. Supreme in strength, in intellect, in power. The world bowed to me, for I was invincible. But all things come to an end. Betrayed… by my own blood. Brothers, children, allies I trusted… they sealed me in this forsaken cave, stripping me of my throne, my freedom, everything but my wrath."
Asher's jaw tensed. "But… how does this relate to me?"
"Silence!" Nova's roar resonated through the stone walls. His aura flared, golden light mingling with shadows.
"Millennia passed. Alone in darkness, the mana leaking from me transformed this barren land into the Forest of the Unknown. The cave itself became a living tomb, steeped in my power. Ages changed. Humans—the weakest of all creatures—grew arrogant, seized strength, forged kingdoms, and dared to call themselves adventurers. And one day… some of these fools stumbled into my cave, seeking treasure."
---
The forest outside shivered as torches flickered.
"I heard this cave holds the treasure of the Dragon King!" one of the adventurers shouted.
"Myth," another scoffed.
"Then why is there a cave glowing in the middle of nowhere?"
The captain's voice cut through. "Move. All of you. Now."
"Yes, captain!"
"Porter, keep up—or you're on your own!"
"Y-Yes, sir!" the young man stammered, clutching his satchel.
"Pathetic weakling," the captain muttered under his breath.
They stepped into the cave. Faint glowing runes on the floor activated as they crossed them. A brilliant flash enveloped them—they were transported into a vast underground chamber.
Crystals of pure mana jutted from the walls, glowing like liquid stars. The adventurers froze.
"By the gods…" one whispered.
"Collect them! And porter, careful! Not a scratch!"
The porter knelt, gathering the luminous stones.
At the center of the chamber, a colossal door loomed, carved with Nova's image. Mana pulsed from it like a living heartbeat.
"This is it… the vault."
They attacked—fire, lightning, steel—but the door did not move.
Then, a voice like thunder, deep and terrifying, reverberated through the chamber:
"WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?"
The air itself shook. Several adventurers fell to their knees, shivering.
"We seek the treasure of the Dragon King!" the captain stammered.
"Oh… you wish for my treasure? Then you must pay a price: a human sacrifice."
The group froze.
"A… sacrifice?" one whispered.
"Leave one of your own behind," the voice continued, "and you shall have my treasure."
Eyes darted between companions. Fear and calculation warred silently.
Then, from behind, the porter stepped forward. "Captain! I've collected all the stones!"
The group understood instantly—the weakling was the chosen one for the altar.
The captain smiled, cruel and knowing. "Good. Come here. You have an important task."
"Me? An important task?" The porter's face lit with naive excitement.
"Yes," the captain said smoothly. "Stand in front of the door when I say. The Dragon King rewards the pure. You are the purest among us."
The porter approached the gate, trembling with awe and fear. Its carvings shimmered as if alive. He turned to see every eye on him, gleaming… but not with hope—anticipation, cruelty, triumph.
"I'll do it," he said firmly.
"Are you certain?" The voice thundered.
He dropped to his knees, body shaking. Still, he forced the words. "Yes!"
"Very well… I accept this sacrifice."
For a heartbeat, he smiled—then the truth struck. The smirks, the silent glares. The captain's eyes glimmered with malice.
"You fool," the captain sneered. "You were the sacrifice from the start."
"You… bastards!" he screamed.
A flash of blinding light enveloped him. When it faded, only a single sword remained, glowing like captured sunlight. Its aura radiated pure, undeniable power.
Then, the voice boomed:
"So… you are the sacrifice."
"Y-Yes… who are you?" the porter whispered, trembling.
"I," the voice thundered, "am the Dragon King—Nova Valcren."