Arcime County had fallen.
The once-prosperous land was now nothing more than a graveyard of ashes and broken stone. The streets that once echoed with merchants, soldiers, and travelers were now silent.
Bodies covered the ground.
Soldiers.
Citizens.
Merchants.
Men, women, and children.
None had been spared.
The Dragon King's army had descended upon the county without mercy.
They slaughtered everyone they saw.
It did not matter if they were warriors or farmers. Nobles or servants. Adults or children.
To the Dragonkin, they were all the same.
Enemies.
Even the lord of the land himself had not been spared.
Count Daron Arcime.
When the Dragon Knights arrived, he stood his ground and fought them.
Alone.
His strength had nearly turned the battle.
Several Dragon Knights fell beneath his blade.
For a brief moment, it even seemed possible that the Count might survive.
But the Dragon King's soldiers were relentless.
They surrounded him from all sides.
And in the end…
Even the mighty Count Daron Arcime was cut down.
His blood joined the countless others staining the earth.
The official reason for the massacre was simple.
The Dragon King blamed Arcime County for the storm.
On the night a certain child was born, a catastrophic storm struck the region. Lightning shattered the skies. Landslides crushed entire roads and villages. Floodwaters swept through towns and cities nearby.
Carriages traveling through mountain paths were destroyed, killing many travelers.
It was said to be a disaster unlike any other in history.
The Dragon King declared the county cursed.
And so the Dragonkin army came to erase it.
A punishment.
A warning.
Or perhaps something else entirely.
It was recorded as a once-in-a-lifetime catastrophe.
—
or
is
it
—
When Aizen collapsed the previous night, the rain began to fall.
Endless rain.
Heavy rain.
By the time morning arrived, the flames consuming Arcime County had been completely washed away.
The fire was gone.
But the city itself had already died.
The land that once carried a proud history had now become something else.
A place hated by many.
A land remembered only for tragedy.
And now…
It was gone.
The skies above had turned pale gray.
Rainwater slid gently down leaves and stones, glimmering like teardrops beneath the soft morning light.
Aizen lay motionless on the ground.
His body ached.
His limbs felt numb.
For a long moment, he didn't move.
His fingers were buried in the cold, wet dirt as he struggled to breathe.
Fragments of memory replayed in his mind.
Lightning tearing through the clouds.
The scream that escaped his throat.
The strange fire burning inside his blood.
Was it a dream?
No.
Something inside him had changed.
Aizen slowly pushed himself up.
Pain flared through his ribs and he winced, clutching his side.
His torn cloak hung loosely over his shoulders, damp from rain.
He looked around in confusion.
The ruins of his home were nowhere in sight.
Somehow, during the storm, he had wandered deep into the forest.
"Where… am I?"
His voice sounded weak.
Dry.
Cracked.
Almost unfamiliar to him.
Slowly, he forced himself to stand.
His legs trembled beneath him, but he managed to walk.
Not far away, he remembered a small storage building that once held supplies for the Arcime estate.
If anything had survived the disaster, it might be there.
After several painful steps, he reached the building.
The door had partially collapsed.
Inside, several food supplies were scattered across the floor.
But something had been left untouched.
Cooked meat.
Aizen didn't hesitate.
He devoured the food quickly, eating every piece he could find.
Warmth slowly returned to his body.
Strength began creeping back into his limbs.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough to move again.
When he finished eating, he stepped outside and looked toward the distant mountains.
Beyond those lands lay the Dragon Kingdom.
By carriage, the journey would take about ten hours.
But on foot…
It would take nearly four and a half days.
Aizen stared at the horizon silently.
Then he began walking.
Alone.
The forest stretched endlessly around him.
Ancient trees towered high into the sky, their thick trunks wrapped in moss. Their branches formed a vast canopy above, allowing only small beams of sunlight to reach the ground.
Strange flowers grew beneath the trees.
Some glowed faintly with mysterious colors.
Blue.
Green.
Purple.
The air was warm.
The wind gentle.
It almost felt as if the forest itself were alive.
Watching him.
Hours passed.
Aizen dragged himself forward, wincing with each step.
His ears flicked at every rustling sound.
His tail twitched nervously behind him.
Despite the peaceful appearance of the forest, something deep inside told him he wasn't alone.
Stay alert.
That was what his father always said.
Memories began flooding back into his mind.
His mother softly singing to him.
His father training in the open field.
His sister Baretta laughing while playing with him.
His older brother Gareth sparring with him and teaching him how to fight.
Warm memories.
Happy memories.
Then—
Flames.
Screams.
The roar of dragons.
The memories shattered like glass.
Aizen staggered and collapsed beside a tree.
A wave of nausea hit him violently.
He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.
Something was wrong.
His body wasn't just weak.
It was changing.
Tiny sparks danced beneath his skin.
His blood felt hot.
Heavy.
Ancient.
"Am I… cursed?"
The words escaped his mouth in a whisper.
But deep inside…
It didn't feel like a curse.
It felt like something calling him.
Something awakening.
The wind brushed past him once more.
This time, it carried a whisper.
Soft.
Ancient.
"You are the blood of the storm… the fang of thunder…"
Aizen froze.
His heart pounded wildly as he looked around the forest.
No one was there.
The voice had not come from outside.
It came from within him.
He placed his hand over his chest.
His heartbeat thundered loudly.
Then—
CRACK.
A bolt of electricity shot from his fingertips and struck the ground.
Aizen jumped backward in shock.
He stared at his hand.
Small sparks still flickered between his fingers.
He had never used magic before.
Beastmen rarely practiced magic.
The elders always said their power was buried deep.
Dangerous to awaken.
Yet somehow—
His power had awakened on its own.
"Is this… who I really am?"
His thoughts drifted back to the strange dreams he had been having.
Dreams of another life.
Another world.
"Those weird dreams of mine felt too real…"
He laughed quietly.
"This might actually be a fantasy world after I died… huh?"
A storm beast.
A Black Lion.
A child carrying the blood of thunder.
He didn't understand any of it yet.
But determination slowly began forming within him.
Like thunderclouds gathering before a storm.
Aizen stood again.
His legs still trembled.
But his eyes were steady.
The fear remained.
Yet it no longer controlled him.
"I need answers."
He clenched his fists.
"I need to survive."
"And I need to get stronger."
As the sun rose higher above the forest, Aizen continued deeper into the woods.
The forest he had entered was enormous.
According to books he had read as a child, this forest covered half of the Green Continent.
It was known as one of the oldest forests in the world.
While walking, something strange caught his eye.
A symbol carved into a stone.
Aizen stepped closer.
The carving glowed faintly green.
It looked like the face of a man with long hair and pointed ears.
"Elves…?"
He remembered something similar from his dreams.
In those dreams, his little sister once pretended to be an elf while playing games.
"This symbol… looks like an elf."
Curious, Aizen reached out and touched it.
The moment his fingers made contact—
The world twisted.
Light exploded around him.
Then everything vanished.
When his vision returned, he found himself standing behind a thick bush.
Confused, Aizen slowly stepped forward.
And froze.
In front of him stood a small wooden cabin.
Around it were piles of supplies.
Food.
Tools.
Materials.
Enough resources for someone to live comfortably.
It was as if the place had been prepared long ago.
Waiting for someone.
Far above the clouds, something watched.
A pair of golden eyes observed the boy from the sky.
Massive wings stretched silently across the heavens.
The presence watched him for only a moment.
Then—
It disappeared in a flash of light.
Leaving the sky empty once more.
Unaware of the dangerous world waiting ahead,
Aizen Arcime continued walking forward.
Guided only by pain.
Lightning.
And the final embers of hope burning in his heart.
End of Chapter 2