In the capital city of Draekoria, nestled among the towering peaks of Ryūjin No Sumai, shimmered in the dying light of the sun. Its crystalline towers caught the last rays of the day, casting rainbows through the air, while rivers of magic flowed beneath its streets, giving life to the Dragonoid kingdom. This was the seat of power for the Dragonoids, the race blessed with the divine legacy of the mighty dragon Shiro.
Inside the royal palace, Prince Zuka Kogetsu, the eldest of the twin princes and heir to the Dragonoid throne stood in his private chambers, his gaze fixed on a large map spread out across an ornate table. His golden eyes—sharp and intense—traced the borders of their lands, settling on the dark woods beyond The Forest of Nate. There, troubling reports had begun to stir his mind: Felborn attacks, refugees, strange markings on those who fled.
A knock sounded at the door, and a guard entered with a bow. "Prince Zuka, your brother is here to see you."
Before Zuka could respond, Prince Noir strode into the room, his very presence suffocating the air, commanding attention with the effortless grace of someone born to rule. His appearance was nothing short of striking—his void-black horns twisted elegantly from his forehead, sharp and glistening in the dim light. His wings were long and imposing, the feathers a deep, luscious black that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. They stretched behind him like shadows given form, framing his tall, muscular frame. His hair cascaded down to his broad shoulders, as dark as the abyss itself, adding to the aura of mystery and menace that clung to him. Dressed in a royal robe of deep black, intricately embroidered with crimson details, the rich fabric clung to his body, a reflection of his sharp, predatory grace. But it was his eyes—those piercing, blood-red eyes—that radiated a malice that could freeze a man's soul. His skin was dark, the color of midnight, a stark contrast to his brother's.
Zuka, in comparison, was the light to Noir's shadow. He stood tall, at the same imposing height of 6'8", yet everything about him radiated purity and brilliance. His skin was pale, almost luminescent, a whiteness that seemed to glow from within. His golden horns spiraled from his head, catching the faintest flickers of light and reflecting it like burnished metal. His hair was a brilliant white, cascading down his back and nearly touching his palms. Unlike Noir's wings, Zuka's were like angelic instruments of war—pure white, massive, and majestic, feathers shimmering with divine light. His eyes, golden and regal, glittered from afar, filled with wisdom and ferocity in equal measure. Dressed in a robe of pristine white and gold, adorned with intricate detailing that spoke of his royal status, Zuka's presence was just as powerful as his brother's, though in a way that felt like standing before the sun itself.
Though they were twins, each sharing the same towering height, broad shoulders, and chiseled features that spoke of their dragonoid heritage, they were opposites in every conceivable way.
Where Zuka was serious, noble, kind and the light of their people, Noir was dark, chaotic, and laughed at the very notion of responsibility. His red eyes gleamed with mischief, and a wicked smile played across his lips.
"Brother," Noir greeted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You've been hiding from us." He leaned against the doorframe, his posture relaxed, but his tone teasing.
Zuka glanced over his shoulder, his expression one of mild annoyance. "You're late, Noir."
Noir's grin widened, and he let out a low, dark chuckle, the kind that sent shivers down the spines of others. "Well, I'm here now. What's more important than Father's Council? Or are you playing king already?"
Zuka turned back to the map, ignoring his brother's provocation. "I told Father I would not attend today. I have… other matters that require my attention."
Noir raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Other matters? Do tell. What could possibly be so pressing?"
Zuka hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. "I've taken in a group of Beastmen, Elves, and Giants—refugees from the Felborn attacks. I've claimed a piece of land within the Great Forest of Nate for them. I'm trying to establish a sanctuary to keep them safe."
Noir chuckled again, a low, dark sound. "How noble of you, brother. But tell me... is that all? Or do you fancy yourself a savior now?"
Zuka ignored the mockery. "There's more to this. These refugees are being hunted. They've been attacked four times this week alone, and I intend to find out why."
Noir's smirk faded, replaced by genuine interest. "Hunted, you say?" His voice lowered, suddenly serious. "By whom?"
Zuka shook his head, his frustration evident. "I don't know. They won't tell me everything—I assume it's due to trauma—but something feels off. They don't seem like ordinary refugees. There's something they're hiding."
Noir's eyes narrowed, a dark gleam flickering behind them. "Where did you find them?"
"I saw them while flying beyond our borders," Zuka answered. "They were scattered, disoriented... mostly Dark Elves. Their skin was unusually pale, and they bore strange markings on the back of their necks."
At this, Noir's expression darkened further. He stepped away from the doorframe, standing closer to Zuka. "Those aren't just refugees, Zuka. Those are slaves."
Zuka froze, his fists tightening at the implication. "Slaves?"
Noir nodded, his voice now edged with seriousness. "Those markings—slave brands. Dark Elves, especially crossbreeds, are valuable in certain circles. It's no wonder they are being hunted. Someone wants their property back."
Zuka clenched his fists, anger bubbling to the surface. "That means someone is tracking them... someone dangerous."
Noir's smirk returned, though there was a coldness in his eyes now. "You've stumbled into quite the mess, brother. You'll need more than noble intentions to see this through."
Zuka straightened, his resolve hardening. "I'm going to protect them. I'll find out who's behind this and put an end to it."
Noir's smirk widened, his excitement barely concealed. "Oh, I'm coming with you. You'll need someone to keep you from getting in over your head."
Zuka hesitated. "This isn't your fight, Noir. I can handle it."
Noir scoffed. "Please, you'll only get yourself killed. Besides, I can't let you ruin our family's name by charging into danger like a fool. You'll need my help."
Turning to the soldier by the door, Noir barked an order. "You there! Fetch Kaizen."
The soldier bowed and left to gather their forces. Zuka took a deep breath, still grappling with the weight of the situation. He had thought he was helping a group of victims, but now it was clear—this was much bigger. With Noir by his side, he knew the path ahead would be even more dangerous, and far less predictable.
"We leave immediately," Zuka commanded, his voice resolute.
Noir clapped him on the back, his eyes gleaming. "Lead the way, brother. Let's see what kind of trouble we can stir up."
Soon after, Kaizen arrived flanked by Noir's Obsidian Vanguard, an elite force of thirty warriors renowned as the "Fangs of the Abyss." Their presence alone sent a ripple of unease through the air, as if the very shadows bowed before their might. These warriors were Noir's most trusted combatants, handpicked from among the awakened Dragonoids, their loyalty and lethality unmatched.
Kaizen Takayoshi, known as "The Azure Fang", led them with an aura of quiet dominance, his light blue hair flowing like silk, the faint edges of his vast wings shimmering with an ethereal blue glow. His presence was predatory, precise—every movement calculated, every breath carrying authority. His armor gleamed with purpose: dark steel infused with faint streaks of silver and cobalt, blending Dragonoid tradition with modern practicality. But his most striking feature was his claws—razor-sharp extensions of his body, five inches in length and curved like talons, shimmering faintly in the wan light. They were not a tool, but a symbol of his ferocity.
The Obsidian Vanguard moved in haunting synchronicity, their steps soundless, their presence suffocating. Each warrior wore jet-black samurai-inspired armor accented with ominous crimson patterns that pulsed faintly, as though alive with some ancient, slumbering power. Their wings, vast and black as pitch, unfurled with menace, shadowing the ground beneath them like an encroaching storm. From their shoulders protruded the hilts of Yōketsu Blades—enchanted katanas said to drink the essence of those they felled. The faint hum of energy radiating from the blades was enough to make the air vibrate.
Their faces were hidden behind intricately carved oni masks—terrifying visages of demons with snarling expressions, sharp horns, and fanged grins. The masks, rumored to be blessed by ancient dark rites, served not just to hide their identities but to paralyze their enemies with fear before the fight even began.
Overhead, Zuka and Noir soared like celestial beings, their wings slicing through the sky with untamed power as they led the way toward the Forest of Nate. The crimson horizon loomed before them, its jagged edges lined with the foreboding silhouettes of twisted trees. Kaizen and the Obsidian Vanguard followed, flying in perfect formation, a dark tide of inevitability.
As they neared the forest, both brothers sensed a disturbance—a group of men moving toward the forest from the opposite direction.
"I don't like this," Kaizen said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't believe those men are here for a stroll. They're after something. The Slaves, perhaps."
Noir's hand went to his katana, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I'll have them dealt with." He raised his hand, about to signal his men to strike, when Zuka moved quickly, clamping a hand over Noir's mouth.
"Wait, you fool," Zuka hissed. "That might be our only lead."
Noir glared at his brother but lowered his hand. "Fine. What do you have in mind…"
Zuka thought for a few seconds and turned to the men. "Men, descend to the ground. Split into groups of five," he commanded, his voice calm but firm. "When we reach the forest, form a pentagon barrier around the land. We need to contain them before they cause any harm. Do not let yourself be seen"
The Dragonoid soldiers nodded in unison and moved into formation, their movements swift and precise as they closed in on the forest's edge. Shadows stretched across the twisted trees, the waning light casting an eerie glow over the looming expanse.
Zuka and Noir descended silently, their massive wings folding neatly behind them as their boots touched the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint crackle of distant magic.
As soon as the mysterious group reached the forest, chaos erupted. The men charged into the camp of refugees, attacking with wild abandon. Screams echoed through the woods as they wreaked havoc.
"Now," Zuka ordered, his voice cutting through the panic. The Dragonoid soldiers, in their groups of five, positioned themselves around the camp and raised their hands, shouting in unison.
"Barrier, Pentagramma Aegis: Fivefold!" they chanted. A shimmering, five-pointed barrier formed around the camp, trapping the attackers inside.
Noir stepped forward, a glint of anticipation igniting in his blood-red eyes. With a fluid motion, he unsheathed his katana, the blade catching the faint light and reflecting it in a sinister gleam. "Watashi wa yami o yobi, watashi no katana o nurimasu," he murmured, his voice low and resonant as dark magic pulsed along the blade's edge.
In the blink of an eye, he was among the attackers, a streak of shadow and steel. The air seemed to ripple with his movements, too fast to follow. One by one, the men crumpled to the ground, their weapons clattering uselessly beside them. By the time the final body fell, Noir stood at the center of the devastation, his katana dripping with dark energy, the eerie silence a testament to his ruthless efficiency.
Noir stood over them, his blade resting lazily at his side, dripping with power. He glanced at one of the men, his usual grin replaced by a cold, hard look. "Now," he said, voice dripping with malice, "what are you bastards doing here?"
The men, beaten and bloody, said nothing, their eyes filled with fear. Noir sighed, shaking his head. He grabbed one of the men by the hand and, with a quick flick of his katana, sliced off one of his fingers.
The man howled in pain, clutching his hand as blood poured from the wound.
"I'm only going to ask," Noir said, his voice chillingly calm, "nine more times."
The camp was silent, thick with tension. Zuka's golden eyes bore into the man crumpled before him. Growing impatient, he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him up effortlessly.
"If you don't tell me who you are," Zuka's voice was cold, and dangerous, "I'll make sure you rot, suffering a slow, painful death."
The man gasped, terror filling his eyes. "F-Fine! We'll talk!"
Before he could continue, Noir, Zuka's twin, stepped forward, his red eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Who hired you?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with threat.
"We don't know!" the man stammered.
Noir chuckled, leaning in close. "Really?" he said, his smirk widening. "Shall I jog your memory?"
"Fine!" the man blurted, his voice trembling with fear. "We were approached by two men. One was human, the other seemed like a vampire. They said their slaves had escaped. That's all we know!"
Noir's grin widened, though his eyes darkened. "Where did they find you?"
"We were in Jordan, a human nation," the man replied quickly. "They offered us five thousand gold pieces to capture the slaves."
Zuka, still gripping the man, pressed on. "Describe them. What did they look like?"
The man swallowed, his voice shaking. "The vampire wore a hood, so I didn't see much of his face, but he had black hair. The human had light yellow hair and wore a purple robe. They… they moved like nobles."
Zuka released the man, turning to his captain. "Kaizen, take them to the palace prison. Have them dealt with."
Kaizen bowed deeply. "Yes, my lord."
As the guards led the captives away, Noir's soft laugh echoed through the clearing. "You're getting bold, brother, ordering my men around."
Zuka didn't respond, his eyes focused ahead. "We've got more important matters to discuss."
Noir stepped closer, his playful demeanor fading. "How many slaves did you bring in?"
"Around 150," Zuka said, his brow furrowing slightly.
Noir raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's an unusually large number. Who needs that many slaves?"
Before Zuka could answer, Noir's gaze shifted to a young dark elf boy standing nearby. His eyes narrowed with interest. "You," Noir called, gesturing with his hand. "Come here."
The boy hesitated, his small frame trembling as he stepped forward. Fear flickered in his wide eyes, but he obeyed. Noir crouched to meet him, his tone steady, commanding, but oddly calm. "Look into my eyes," he said, his crimson gaze locking onto the boy's. "Where were you enslaved?"
The boy's voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "We… we were kept in a dungeon underground. They took one of us every day to serve different masters."
"What did the places look like?" Zuka asked, his voice measured but firm, offering a sliver of reassurance amid the boy's unease.
The boy shook his head, struggling to find the words. "I… I don't know. But they felt… powerful. Royal, maybe."
Noir's gaze drifted to the boy's neck. With careful precision, he tilted the boy's head forward, revealing a faint, ominous mark etched into his skin—a snake coiled tightly around the figure of a man. Noir's eyes narrowed, his fingers grazing the brand. "Interesting," he murmured, a dark glint sparking behind his crimson irises. "These slaves aren't just crossbreeds. They're experiments."
Zuka stiffened, his golden eyes darkening. "Experiments?"
Noir stood slowly, his usual grin fading into something colder, sharper. "Their energy is being harvested for black magic—this isn't about simple labor," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "It's far more dangerous than that."
"How do you know?" Zuka pressed, his tone edged with suspicion.
Noir's lips curled into a faint smirk, the kind that hinted at secrets best left untold. "I may have… dabbled with such an organization in the past," he admitted, a flicker of amusement coloring his words. "They breed hybrids—mixing different races to create beings capable of harnessing immense power. That mark?" He gestured toward the boy. "It's their insignia. This isn't some random operation—it's a coordinated network, specializing in black magic. These refugees aren't just dark elves. They're part Necralith."
Zuka's eyes sharpened. "Necralith?"
Noir nodded, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. "Yes, Necralith It explains their pale skin. I can feel it—the blood of Necraliths mixed with dark elves. A Necralith can expel raw mana, while dark elves can absorb it from their surroundings. Imagine the potential of a hybrid: a being that not only consumes energy but weaponizes it. The perfect conduit for destruction."
Zuka's fists tightened, his golden aura flaring faintly with suppressed anger. "We have to stop this."
Noir let out a low, mocking laugh. "Why do you care so much, brother? Why not leave them to their fate?"
Zuka's expression hardened. "It's better to make allies than enemies. We need to be prepared for whatever's coming."
Noir tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Have you ever heard the tale of the turtle and the scorpion?"
Zuka raised an eyebrow. "No. What's it about?"
"The scorpion asked the turtle to carry him across the river," Noir began, his voice almost casual. "The turtle hesitated, fearing he would be stung. The scorpion promised not to, saying, 'Why would I sting you? Then we both drown.'"
Zuka frowned. "And?"
"Halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the turtle," Noir said, his voice darkening slightly. "When the turtle asked why, the scorpion replied, 'It's my nature.'"
Zuka remained unmoved. "And you think I'm being too trusting."
Noir's smile faded. "No, brother. I think you're noble. And in times like this, that nature comes shining through. That's why I'm here, to save you from yourself whenever you need it"
Zuka straightened. "I see brother, We'll fight together. This darkness can't be allowed to spread."
Noir grinned, his amusement returning. "Agreed. They've made their move. Now, it's our turn."
Zuka nodded, his determination set. "What's our next step?"
Noir's eyes gleamed with excitement. "It seems, dear brother, that we've got ourselves a vacation ticket to the land of humans."