The heat was overwhelming.
Even before he reached the Dragonpit, Aranji could feel it waves of warmth rolling through the stone, the scent of scorched earth and ash thick in the air. As he crept closer, the sensation intensified. It wasn't just heat. It was chakra. Raw, ancient, and alive.
He crouched on the outer wall, activating his Byakugan. The moment his vision pierced the structure, he winced.
"Too much," he hissed, shielding his eyes for a moment. "It's like staring into the sun."
The dragons were inside. He couldn't see all of them some were deeper, hidden in the shadows but their presence was undeniable. Their chakra radiated outward like bonfires in the dark. The humans nearby, even the dragonkeepers, barely registered in comparison. Flickers of life. Nothing more.
"These creatures…" he whispered, "they're not Bijū… but they're close."
He moved.
Silent as mist, he slipped through a crack in the stone, scaling the inner wall with chakra-enhanced steps. He clung to the ceiling, upside down, his black yukata blending with the shadows. Below, dragonkeepers moved about, tending to chains, feeding troughs, and whispering in hushed tones.
He followed the heat.
The deeper he went, the more his eyes adjusted. The strain of using the Byakugan in this world was lessening. Slowly. Painfully. But it was progress.
Then he heard voices.
He paused above a wide chamber, peering down. Three men stood near the base of the pit, their backs to him. One was old, with silver hair and a regal bearing. The other two were younger one tall and broad, the other lean and sharp-eyed. Beside them, three dragons rested in the gloom, their massive forms coiled like sleeping gods.
"That has to be him," Aranji murmured. "Jaehaerys. The king."
He formed a single seal and whispered, "Henge no Jutsu."
His form shimmered, blending into the stone around him. Not invisible, but camouflaged enough to avoid notice if he stayed still.
"…the tourney will be held at Maidenpool," the old man was saying. "For the Crown Princess's name day. It will be a modest affair. No need to provoke the lords with excess."
"Yes, Father," said the taller son. "But the knights will expect a prize. Perhaps a token from Rhaenys herself?"
Aranji tuned them out. Their politics meant little to him. What mattered was the dragons.
He crept along the ceiling, inching closer to the beasts. The red one Caraxes, if he remembered the name from the whispers radiated chakra like a forge. The air shimmered around its nostrils with every breath.
He reached out, just slightly, letting his chakra brush the edge of the dragon's aura.
"Incredible," he breathed. "It's not like a tailed beast. It's…. Wilder. But not malevolent."
He wanted to touch it. Just once. To feel that power directly.
But then
A chill ran down his spine.
He looked up.
Vhagar.
The largest of them all. The oldest. The strongest.
She was staring at him.
Even cloaked in jutsu, even hidden in the rafters, she saw him. Her massive eye green and gold like molten glass locked onto his. There was no roar. No movement. Just… awareness.
Aranji froze.
The other two dragons didn't react. The men below continued their conversation, oblivious. But Vhagar knew.
He swallowed hard.
"…You see me," he whispered.
The dragon blinked slowly. Not in threat. Not in fear.
Recognition.
Aranji backed away, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact. He didn't know what that look meant. Warning? Curiosity? Something else?
He slipped back into the shadows, heart pounding.
Once outside, he crouched on a rooftop overlooking the pit, breathing hard.
"That wasn't just a beast," he said aloud. "That was a mind. A will."
He looked up at the stars, sweat cooling on his brow.
"I need to know more. About them. About this world. About why I'm here."
He glanced back toward the Dragonpit.
"And why that dragon saw me when no one else ''