The northern lands were colder.
Snow covered the mountains in thick layers, and the wind cut like a blade. Villages here were built low and strong, stone walls packed tight against the cold. From above, they looked small. Fragile.
He landed on a rocky ridge overlooking one such settlement, wings folding back into his body as he returned fully to human form.
The world felt… open.
No invisible limits. No guiding pressure. No unseen hand trying to shape his steps.
Just choice.
Below, the village was restless. Soldiers patrolled the outer walls, their armor etched with runes meant to repel monsters. Watchtowers burned with blue flame, scanning the skies.
They were waiting for something.
For him.
He sensed it easily now—the tension, the fear wrapped tightly around the land. News of him had traveled faster than he expected.
"A dragon that walks as a man," he murmured. "Of course they'd panic."
He moved down the slope without hiding himself. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he approached the gate. The guards noticed immediately.
"Halt!" one shouted, spear shaking in his hands. "State your name and purpose!"
He stopped a few steps away.
"I'm passing through," he said simply.
The guards exchanged uneasy looks. One of them swallowed and raised a hand, signaling the others.
The gates did not open.
"You're not welcome here," the captain said, trying—and failing—to sound firm. "By order of the northern kingdom."
He studied the man for a moment.
Not cruel. Not ambitious.
Just afraid.
"I don't want your land," he said calmly. "I don't want your throne. I don't want your people."
His presence shifted slightly.
Not threatening.
Honest.
"I want to be left alone."
The captain's breath caught in his throat. He could feel it—the gap between them. The impossible distance in strength.
"…And if we refuse?" the captain asked.
He met the man's eyes.
"Then I'll walk past you anyway."
Silence stretched.
Then the captain lowered his spear.
"…Open the gate," he said quietly.
The gates creaked open.
He walked through the village without slowing, eyes forward, ignoring the stares, the whispers, the fear. No one followed him. No one dared.
At the far end of the settlement, he stopped once and looked back.
"This world will get louder," he said softly, to no one in particular. "Stronger. More dangerous."
He stepped beyond the last house and into the open snowfields.
"But so will I."
High above, clouds gathered.
Kingdoms whispered.
And far away, the Great White Dragon continued to watch—not as a master…
…but as something that had finally found an equal path worth observing.