Elanor was a woman lost among the city lights.
She had always worked twice as hard just to survive, living her days in constant motion, never truly resting. Exhaustion clung to her shoulders, and the weight of life never seemed to lift. Yet she saw every burden as a test—and each time, she chose to stand back up.
A sick sibling. Fading hopes. Silences no one ever noticed.Elanor's world was far deeper than it appeared.
But fate had prepared more than a trial for her. Hidden within it was a call—quiet, persistent, impossible to ignore.
Her beauty felt like fate's cruel irony. Crimson hair, eyes as blue as the sky, flawless skin—she looked as though she had stepped straight out of a fairytale. Everyone who saw her was captivated… yet no one could see the storm raging inside her heart.
The Passage to the Dragon Realm
That night, Elanor walked beneath the dim glow of streetlights, her tired steps carrying the full weight of the day. Thoughts of her brother's illness, unpaid bills, and her own exhaustion filled her mind.
As she turned a corner, a group of drunken men blocked her path.
Fear and helplessness tightened around her chest. She stepped back—but they moved closer.
Then, suddenly, a blinding light erupted.
A man dressed in white appeared before her. His hair moved gently over his shoulders, and his eyes radiated both calm and overwhelming power.
Sergie.
"Stop," he said—his voice cold, yet undeniably commanding.
The ring on his finger glowed faintly as he took a step forward. The men staggered back as if struck by an invisible force.
Elanor held her breath.
Sergie reached toward her, raising his hand to show the ring.
"This is your chance, Elanor," he said. "I will take you somewhere else. It will be difficult—but it may change your life. If you ever need me, touch the ring twice. But remember… you have only one life. If you die there, you will not return."
Elanor closed her eyes. Fear and hope collided in her chest. The only thing she could think of was her brother.
Sergie's words echoed in her mind:"This is a path—for your brother… and for you."
She took a deep breath.
"Alright," she whispered, reaching for the ring.
Light exploded—warm, trembling, overwhelming.
And when it faded, Elanor found herself in chains… in the Dragon Realm.
When Elanor opened her eyes, guided by the ring's glow, she stood in the center of a vast, dark hall with towering ceilings. Chains rested lightly around her wrists—not tight enough to restrict movement, but heavy enough to remind her of her place.
She wasn't alone.
Around her stood others in the same condition—slaves. Different races, different ages. Fear and exhaustion were etched into every face.
Elanor swallowed hard, quietly observing them. Some leaned against the stone walls in silence. Others trembled in corners, barely holding themselves together.
Okay… don't panic, she told herself.First, I adapt. This is my new reality. I'll endure it—for my brother.
Gradually, the others began to approach her. Some looked at her with quiet curiosity. Others whispered mockingly.
"New one, right?""Did she come with a ring… or just like the rest of us?"
Elanor tried to introduce herself, but the words caught in her throat. She managed only a small smile.
"I'm… Elanor. You're here too, right?"
Soon, an announcement echoed through the hall: assignments were about to be given.
Elanor's heart began to race. These tasks sounded like trials—tests meant to force humans to stand before dragons and prove their obedience.
I have to get used to this world, she thought.I need to look strong… or the next chain might be tighter.
Her gaze drifted toward the far end of the hall.
Among massive shadows, she sensed something immense. A presence. Silent, overwhelming. Powerful.
Draven was not yet visible—but his existence filled the air.
Elanor took her first steps into this new world, ready to fight for survival.
As the chains lightly struck her wrists, she stepped forward with the other slave girls into the center of the hall. Each step echoed against the stone floor. Flames high above flickered, their light dancing across dragon scales.
Dragon officials examined the slaves one by one with cold, assessing eyes.
At the very back of the hall, seated upon his throne, was Draven.
Even in human form, his power burned through the space. His icy blue eyes missed nothing.
One by one, the girls passed before them—some trembling, some filled with rage and despair. Elanor followed the commands silently, her movements controlled.
Then it was her turn.
Her gaze met Draven's.
Deep. Cold. Studying.
For a heartbeat, her heart nearly stopped.
The dragons examined her closely.
"Her hair…" one of them murmured."So different. I've never seen a color like that before."
Elanor stiffened—but she stood tall.
And somewhere deep within the hall, the Dragon King's attention settled fully on her.