A Dragonborn stood before a lowly wyvern who had his head bowed down before him. He holds a bag of coins by the drawstring, measuring out the weight. Just by feeling alone, he knows for a fact that the wyvern's short by a few hundred Drachmas. He smirks and with glee, he realizes that he's a few short. But even that small movement creates a twinge in pain, memories of the giant Drakos Lordling cracking him across the face. His jaw had shattered, making him experience pain he had not been put through in all of his 120 years of life.
How could Marshall Sterling, a Dragonborn, be sent to his knees? He was the top of the food chain, a pureblood who should bow down to no one except the Dragon Lords? Such shame. Such humiliation!
Just recalling such a horrific incident made his anger grow, now irritated, Marshall smashed his foot into the wyvern's head. The wyvern yelped but did not try to fight back as the Dragonborn stomped again and again on his skull.
"You think what? Just because that little Lordling has awoken, you think you can get away with your payment fees? You fucking scum need to know your place you lowborn bastards! Fuck!" The Dragonborn roars with anger, letting his Draconic Flow unravel and for a second, scales travel along his arm and he grows to a monstrous size in an instant.
Marshall takes in a deep breath to calm himself, basking in the familiarity of being in a position of superiority.
This is how it should be. This is how things are. But when he looks up, he can see that a young girl is crouched in front of the wyvern. She's casting a spell, her hands glowing as the warm light relieves the draconic of its pain. Her blonde hair is tied up in a tight bun and strapped to her back is a giant warhammer.
"You've gone too far, Marshall." Katrina Drakos glares at him with a fury that makes him think twice before moving any closer to her. Sterling weighs his options well. Should he cut his losses and avoid getting into more trouble? His emotions, however, overwhelm logic.
"Bitches like you should fucking stay in the Pala-"
"Oooh, would you look at the mouth on this guy?" Before Marshall can react, a large hand closes around his jaw from behind. He knows the voice but he can barely recognize the behemoth of a man standing behind him. He's grown to become even bigger than before.
The Dragonborn squirms helplessly, kicking at his assailant but it is futile.
"I know you." Lukas remarked as he held Marshall to face him. There is just a moment of silence which makes the Dragonborn think he will be spared. He is wrong. "I don't like you."
There's a crunch and his jaw is once again broken. His guttural screams of agony are muffled through Lukas' grip and tears begin to stream down his eyes, snot running from his nose. Lukas drops him to the floor and Sterling is on his knees yet again. That doesn't matter to the Dragonborn anymore. This is no longer about pride and Marshall knows it. He's about to fucking die.
"Marshall, was it?" Lukas squats down to meet Sterling's gaze.
This man is fucking crazy. Marshall can see the amusement in his eyes, not even bothered by the fact that he has just hurt another of his kind. How can somebody be so unflinching? So calm and collected?
"Do not ever consider yourself to be a Dragonborn. From now on, you are my servant. Do you understand? You are a dog. When I call, you will answer." This was not a request that could be accepted or refused. It was an order. "I know for a fact you're not bright enough to be the brains of this operation. You and your other friends have been doing this for quite a while to every business owner in the Seas."
Marshall's face turns pale white, his eyes filled with a different kind of terror. The fear of knowing that he's been caught red-handed
"The first thing I'm going to need you to do for me, is tell me this. Who's behind all of this? And if you don't, I will break more than just your jaw. Understand?"
Oh. I'm fucked, Marhsall Sterling thought. He would be right.
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A month had passed and he had put that time to good use.
In the mornings, he would spend hours at a time in the library, asking the scholars within them and learning all there was to learn about the draconic culture and history through books and scrolls. After just a month of studying, he knew he had not even scratched the surface.
In the afternoons, he would spend his time with his mother; learning how to fully adjust to his body. It didn't take him long to master the Draconic Flow, an almost sacred art that allowed the draconic race to take on a human-like form. But what he really wanted was to get the hang of moving in his draconic one.
The first time he ever went through a full transformation, it had been completely disorienting. It felt almost nauseating to suddenly have such a different perspective. He was enormous in size, even though he was definitely considered on the younger side of the draconic race. From what he'd learnt, he was just in the starting phase of growth. Despite this, he towered over his mother in her wyvern form. He was bigger than any dragon he had ever come across and though his strength was not much different, it felt more fitting for this form.
It wasn't just the size, but it was the very magnitude and presence this form commanded which made it so terrifying. He could quite literally feel the strength coursing through him. No wonder the dragons in those storybooks were always regarded as almost god-like. But he knew what a real god was like and he knew he was nowhere close in comparison. He had a feeling that would not be the last time he would meet that god who had given him this second chance.
In the evenings, he would train with Katrina. She didn't teach him magic but she did teach him the true nature of the Draconic Flow. The reason why the Dragon Lords of Old had created this was far from just physical, for why would a dragon stoop down to the likes of a human? This was a secret closely kept only within the direct bloodline of the Dragon Lords.
The Draconic Flow was a cultivation technique. In such a compressed form in the shape of a human body, it allows any Dragon to gather and grow their Mana Pool in a more efficient manner. The larger a being's Mana Pool, the stronger they become in all areas; magical and physical, for mana is the lifeforce that fuels the existence of magic and vitality in this world of Hiraeth. This was what he had to focus on, growing his Mana Pool to the full extent of its limits such that he could realize the potential of his true power.
For the first week, Katrina would also continually ask him to fight which he gladly took up. But soon, she began to avoid him and he realized she no longer felt like getting ragdolled every time they fought. Thus Lukas had to search beyond the Seas of Linemall and there he found the creatures of the vast ocean to battle. He never lost.
Then he would return and he would feast. This was his top priority. His body as it was clearly was at its weakest. He needed to bulk up and put some muscle on his bone. He thought this process would take at least a year, if not two, like it would for a human. But draconic physiology was different. He grew at an absurd rate which made him just think this was fucking unfair.
At the same time, the amount of food consumed was concerning sometimes even to Lukas himself. As a human, he could eat what he did in a day in a matter of minutes and his appetite was truly endless. And he fucking ate. If he was not training, fighting or learning then Lukas would be in the kitchen; chowing down on meals seconds after they had been made by their head chefs.
He would do this day in day out, without a single day of rest or recovery. He had a promise to keep.
He was ready now. He knew he was. Lukas was sure that he could win and he'd done his research on this enemy the Lady Kaitlyn had warned him about, just like he did with all of his opponents before stepping into the ring. But this time, he had Selene, his mother who cared for him constantly. He had Katrina who was something like a little sister, annoying but sweet in her own way. And he also knew Lady Kaitlyn was on his side.
It felt…different. He had nobody in his past life and that had haunted him when he drew his last breath. Julien Fronterra had died alone.
But he knew one thing was for certain: Lukas Drakos was alive.And he was not alone.