It was a dirty and gloomy alley.
An alley where every step forward trapped your toes in the garbage.
However, there was an urgency in the eyes of those running through the alley that couldn't be hidden.
"Silence! They're close!"
In response to the harsh warnings of the men, suppressed groans began to emerge from the mouths of the people once again.
Old people, women, and even children.
They had to abandon the familiar alley once again, but in the face of the Dragonslayer Knights, even the slightest hesitation was a luxury.
"So, here you were."
However, despite their best efforts, there was a man blocking the alley.
The man, wearing armor engraved with the Dragulia emblem, nodded as he observed the refugees of the Ruga tribe in front of him.
"They look like cats, but they act like rats."
Behind the man who laughed, smoke was just beginning to rise.
The smoke that contained the acrid smell of cigarettes gradually covered the alleys, but it seemed that it couldn't block the sight of the knight who had just appeared.
"Anyway, beastmen, if left alone, breed like rabbits."
The children of the Ruga tribe stood still, paralyzed by the knight's cold gaze, which did not see them as human.
"…Hmm?"
The knight burst into laughter upon seeing the men of the Ruga tribe draw their swords, as if they intended to stop him.
However, the knight of the Dragonslayer Knights couldn't help but laugh at their pitiful appearance.
"Who are you?"
Although he hadn't felt any presence until a moment ago, he now felt eyes fixed on his back.
And that gaze grew more intense along with the sound of footsteps.
"What a lack of manners."
"…!"
It was a man with red hair.
What color is the man who is seen through the rising smoke?
Even in the misty landscape, he exuded a strong presence, and he was a man everyone knew well.
"The basic thing is to give your own name before asking for others'."
Seeing a familiar face in such an unexpected place, the knight couldn't help but look confused.
After all, as far as he knew, Radu Dragulia should be a vitality-deprived old man, on the brink of death.
"Radu Dragulia?"
"Seeing that you recognize me, I suppose you belong to the Dragonslayer Knights."
Radu moved, stepping through the smoke that emerged from the alley.
Towards the knight who didn't know what to do in front of him.
For some reason, there wasn't the slightest sign of weakness in Radu's appearance as he approached closer and closer.
"But if you had recognized me, you should have fled a long time ago."
Crack-!
"Ack!"
In fact, it was much crueler than when I saw him before.
The knight was very nervous from the pressure, but the strange sensation that penetrated his heart was literally in the blink of an eye.
It was a speed that the Radu he knew could never have reached, but before he realized it, his blue eyes were right in front of him.
"Gruu..."
"I told you, I am Radu Dragulia."
Radu's expression was pale as he laughed heartily as if mocking his prey.
However, the protruding fangs remained red, as if they had just swallowed blood.
"Let's see."
"Keeuuuuk!"
Radu lifted the sword that had pierced the knight high.
The movements of the man who struggled without even being able to breathe were pathetic, but Radu only smiled and calmly admired the flowing blood.
"…The blood of others no longer affects me much."
With his eyes shining more intensely than ever.
Swoosh-!
Radu split the knight in half with a sad look in his eyes and returned to the alley full of pale smoke as if nothing had happened.
Radu's cruel appearance, treating violence with greater violence, was truly the image of the dragon demanded by Dragulia.
***
"…"
Mirshea silently observed the dead Ruga tribesman.
To be precise, he was looking at the strange pattern that the man had been trying to draw on the wall until the end.
"It's magic."
Even on his deathbed, the Ruga tribesman hadn't let go of the white chalk with which he was drawing.
As soon as he drew the pattern on the wall, pale smoke began to emerge from the alley where Mirshea was.
Mirshea couldn't help but frown at the smoke, which was as acrid as the smoke produced by burning a cigarette.
"…And quite refined magic."
Mirshea shook his head and stuck out his tongue at the changing scenery.
The sight of the alley writhing incessantly even in this brief moment of blinking.
Every time someone extinguished a cigarette in the room, or exhaled the smoke that had filled their lungs, the landscape in front of him faded.
"Gaaah!"
"Bastard! Who are you?"
The voices coming from everywhere were familiar to him.
The echo of those cries that seemed to come right next to him, but whose distance he couldn't guess, stimulated Mirshea's nerves and soon began to disappear.
"He has grown considerably. It's impressive."
Mirshea, who was quietly assessing the situation, nodded as if guessing who had stopped the cries.
The mystery of the Ruga family was certainly great, but it wasn't enough to distinguish between the knights under his direct command.
In this miserable alley, he was the only swordsman wielding a sword for the Ruga family.
"I knew it was you."
As if to confirm his suspicions, a figure began to appear in the distance, moving through the mist.
The man who emerged from the fog had blond hair and blue eyes, just like Mirshea.
"How many have you killed?"
"Around six or so."
Although he had just mentioned killing his own subordinates, Mirshea only showed satisfaction.
As if saying that anyone who shared his blood should be able to face the most elite knights of the Empire.
"What will you do with the others?"
"Radu will handle them."
Vlad, who casually wiped away the drops of blood still forming on his sword, looked at Mirshea and said.
"I gave him some blood. It turns out he's quite useful."
"…Hah."
Mirshea let out a brief incredulous sigh at Vlad's words about sharing his blood with Radu.
"I'm sure you're now aware that you're a dragon, right?"
The perfection transmitted through blood was an innate obsession for all dragons.
Since they were born to seek perfection in the first place, it was natural for them not to share their potential.
However, Vlad's response was not what Mirshea expected.
"I don't want to live sucking the blood of others."
Crunch-
The ground began to crack around Vlad's firmly planted foot.
At the same time, a golden line flowed from Vlad's closed left eye.
The line that extended like paint still remained by Vlad's side without falling to the ground.
"I'm not going to live like you."
Vlad was speaking above the clearing filled with mist.
He wouldn't live as his inherited blood dictated.
Vlad was now preparing for a single strike, as if to cut the leash they had placed on him in the name of instinct.
***
¡BOOM!
A massive sound that no one could have predicted echoed throughout the city of Namarka.
This sound, which even the painstakingly created barrier couldn't contain, was so loud that everyone in the city could hear it.
"…This is unexpected."
The Great Mother of the Ruga tribe, who was performing a ritual in her empty room, looked in surprise at the broken pipe in her hands.
Despite being a tool used by the Mothers of the Ruga family for generations, it couldn't withstand the impact of that single blow.
"So, it's the most perfect dragon."
And also the most noble knight.
Even one of those titles alone would be something that would amaze the world, but Vlad had both. The Great Mother was so overwhelmed by his potential that she could barely stay conscious.
Kaaaaang-!
"What will it be this time?"
It's called potential because it can become anything.
And the culmination of that possibility was the most perfect dragon.
However, the most perfect dragon of the previous era had suppressed all possibilities in his quest to fly alone, leaving scars on numerous races, including the beastmen, from which they had yet to recover.
"I hope your decision is the right one, noble knight."
With those words, the Great Mother of the Ruga tribe, trembling, cleaned the ashes from her pipe with shaky hands.
Though she tried to hide it, she couldn't deny that Vlad's influence had already grown enough to be perceived even by the oldest dragon.
***
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sound of buildings collapsing rumbled throughout Namarka.
Screams came from the disorderly alleys of the city, where there was no order at all.
"You've grown a lot!"
Though Mirshea praised his opponent, his face showed that his usual calm had vanished.
This was because Vlad's blow had been too fast to dodge and too strong to deflect, forcing Mirshea to take it head-on.
"Now you no longer need Rutiger!"
In Bastopol, the city of Lord Iron, Vlad had been under Mirshea's command.
Only by working with Rutiger could he challenge Mirshea, but now Vlad seemed to have reached a completely different level from back then.
BOOM!
Due to Vlad's fierce sword, Mirshea was once again pushed back, destroying buildings.
However, even in the thick stone dust created by the collapsing buildings, the solid golden line that Vlad formed was clear and attracted Mirshea's attention like a halo of light hanging on the horizon.
"Why do you talk so much during a fight?"
"Because I'm proud of you."
"What nonsense."
Though the golden glow tried to emerge in Vlad's world, today it seemed shrouded in mist, as if something was holding it back.
"Didn't you create me to be devoured?"
Though he tried to hide it, Vlad's voice revealed a deep resentment toward his father, Lord Dragon.
"Hearing the truth about my origin from others was like swallowing a bitter pill."
The swords that clashed began to grow as heavy as the anger Vlad harbored.
Mirshea had no choice but to remain silent as the balance of power began to shift.
"…I only pity my mother, for giving birth to me for nothing."
Born as the son of a prostitute, Vlad had never expected anything from his father.
But he had thought that, if he ever found him, they might share a drink.
However, the truth he found through Radu completely shattered even a glimmer of the expectations Vlad had until now.
"I hate the Dragulia family. I want to kill them all."
Vlad, the dragon seed in the north.
The only reason a person like me was born was to be devoured by someone else.
Buzzing, Buzzing-
The sword was weeping.
A dragon-slaying sword that understood its master's anger and sadness.
And it shouted at the golden hair and blue eyes: "I wasn't born to live like this."
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