Time lost meaning inside the Dragon Realm.
There were no peaceful mornings.
No gentle sunsets.
No calm nights beneath silver stars.
Only the crimson sky.
Always burning.
Always watching.
Nearly two weeks passed since Kel and the remaining expedition members crossed the dimensional gate into the realm of dragons.
And during those fourteen days—
The wilderness devoured six more lives.
Not gloriously.
Not dramatically.
Simply—
Cruelly.
The Dragon Realm did not care about courage.
It did not reward bravery.
It only acknowledged strength, instinct, and survival.
The surviving explorers had changed greatly already.
The fear they carried upon first entering this world had gradually transformed into something colder.
Sharper.
Awareness.
Because here—
Every shadow could kill them.
Every mountain might contain an apex predator.
Even the rivers themselves sometimes moved like living creatures.
The expedition currently traveled across a black volcanic plateau stretching endlessly beneath the burning red sky. Jagged obsidian formations pierced upward from the ground like gigantic blades while streams of glowing magma illuminated the landscape with eerie orange light.
Hot winds blew constantly across the wasteland carrying ash and the distant smell of sulfur.
And amidst that hellish world—
Humans marched carefully forward.
The remaining explorers looked exhausted now.
Not physically alone—
Mentally.
Dark circles rested beneath many eyes while armor and robes carried countless repaired tears from continuous battles. Several explorers now walked with permanent caution in their posture, instinctively scanning every direction even while resting.
Because the Dragon Realm punished carelessness immediately.
One young scout had died on the third day.
He stepped too close toward what looked like harmless crimson flowers growing beside a stone cliff.
The flowers opened instantly.
Not flowers at all—
A predatory plant species.
Dozens of thorned vines pierced through the scout's throat and chest before anyone could react properly.
The screams lasted less than ten seconds.
Another explorer disappeared entirely during the fifth night.
No scream.
No blood.
Nothing.
One moment he stood guard beside the campfires beneath the crimson sky.
The next—
Gone.
Only enormous claw marks remained across the black stone nearby.
After that—
No one wandered alone anymore.
The Dragon Realm taught lessons brutally.
Meanwhile—
Kel remained unchanged.
At least externally.
The black-haired man continued walking calmly at the front of the formation while his dark eyes continuously observed the environment around them with terrifying focus.
Yet internally—
He counted every death carefully.
Sairen quietly spoke through the soul-link while observing the exhausted expedition.
"…Their spirits are wearing down."
Kel answered immediately.
"I know."
Unlike before—
He no longer ignored her observations.
Inside the Dragon Realm, Sairen had become his constant second perspective. The guardian continuously analyzed mana flows, environmental instability, creature territories, and magical abnormalities together with him.
And truthfully—
Her assistance had already saved lives.
Several times.
On the seventh day—
Sairen sensed unstable mana pressure beneath a volcanic ridge moments before the ground collapsed into a lava cavern.
On the tenth day—
She identified illusionary terrain created by a draconic species capable of altering visual perception.
Kel trusted her judgment fully here.
Meanwhile—
The expedition kept moving.
And harvesting.
Because despite the deaths—
The rewards were beyond imagination.
The Dragon Realm overflowed with value.
Draconic crystals naturally condensed through primal mana pressure.
Ancient herbs capable of extending mana circulation lifespan.
Monster bones harder than refined steel.
Blood containing absurd magical properties.
Every day—
The expedition gathered treasures humanity had never touched before.
One mage carefully carried a glowing blue crystal capable of storing massive mana quantities naturally.
A scholar discovered scales from an ancient dragon species containing heat-resistant properties beyond known metallurgy.
Another group harvested venom glands from lesser draconic serpents capable of dissolving enchanted armor.
The South would become unimaginably wealthy from this expedition alone.
If they survived long enough to return.
That thought haunted everyone now.
The sixth death happened three days earlier.
And unlike the others—
It nearly destroyed the expedition emotionally.
A healer named Mirelle.
She died saving others.
The expedition had crossed through a canyon region inhabited by winged draconic predators resembling giant skeletal bats.
The creatures attacked from above silently.
Fast.
Brutal.
Several explorers suffered severe poison injuries during the ambush.
And while retreating—
Mirelle stayed behind to stabilize a wounded mage whose legs had been torn apart.
Kel arrived moments later.
Too late.
The healer's body remained crushed beneath broken black stone while crimson blood spread quietly across volcanic ash.
Yet even in death—
Her hands still glowed faintly from healing magic.
Several female scholars cried openly afterward.
Even hardened mercenaries lowered their heads silently.
And for the first time—
The expedition truly understood something horrifying.
Good people died first in worlds like this.
That night—
No one laughed around the campfires.
The crimson sky above them felt colder somehow.
Meanwhile—
Kel quietly sat alone near the edge of camp beneath a gigantic obsidian formation while sharpening Reina's sword silently.
The blade reflected red skyfire softly.
Sairen eventually spoke.
"…You blame yourself."
Kel continued sharpening the sword calmly.
"I led them here."
The guardian remained silent briefly.
Then softly replied—
"…And without you, none of them would have survived this long."
Kel's hands paused slightly.
But only for a moment.
Because deep down—
He understood both truths simultaneously.
The expedition existed because of him.
The deaths happened because of him too.
Leadership always carried both outcomes.
Meanwhile—
The surviving explorers gradually changed how they viewed Kel entirely.
Not merely as leader.
Not merely as strategist.
But as something standing between them and extinction itself.
Because every single day—
Kel saved people.
A collapsing canyon.
An ambush.
A territorial dragon overhead.
A poisonous mana storm.
Again and again—
He reacted first.
Moved first.
Protected first.
One older mercenary whispered quietly during the twelfth night while watching Kel maintain the perimeter barriers alone.
"…That man hasn't rested properly in days."
Another explorer softly answered—
"I don't think he knows how."
And perhaps—
That was true.
The Dragon Realm itself seemed to sharpen Kel further.
His mana circulation became denser.
His telekinetic precision improved.
Even his aura manipulation gradually evolved under constant high-pressure combat.
Several explorers had witnessed terrifying moments recently.
One lesser draconic beast charged toward the expedition during the eleventh day.
Kel stopped it midair through pure telekinetic force alone.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
The creature's bones shattered instantly afterward.
Even Sairen sounded disturbed then.
"…Your mana output keeps increasing unnaturally."
Kel answered quietly.
"This realm accelerates growth."
And he was right.
The Dragon Realm's mana density continuously pressured every living thing within it.
Weak beings died.
Strong beings evolved.
That was the law of this world.
And amidst that brutal realm—
Humanity continued moving deeper forward.
Smaller now.
More wounded.
More exhausted.
Yet strangely—
More determined too.
Because after surviving nearly two weeks beneath the crimson skies of dragons—
The explorers had already crossed beyond ordinary fear.
Now—
Only one thought remained inside most hearts.
To survive long enough…
To bring this impossible world back home with them.