The crimson sky burned above the training grounds.
Volcanic winds swept through the massive stone arena while distant dragon cries echoed across the draconic capital beyond the towering cliffs. The city remained alive around them—proud noble dragons crossing elevated bridges, clan warriors patrolling volcanic streets, servants lowering their heads before bloodline heirs.
Yet within this broken training arena—
Cruelty flourished openly.
The shattered stone floor was stained with blood.
Fresh blood.
At the center—
A crimson-haired young dragon struggled to remain standing while several noble heirs surrounded him like predators circling wounded prey.
Their laughter echoed harshly through the arena.
"Look at him."
"One more hit and he'll collapse again."
"Trash bloodline."
The young dragon's breathing sounded uneven now.
Blood dripped slowly from his chin onto the cracked black stone beneath his feet while bruises spread visibly across his arms and ribs. Parts of his crimson scales had shattered during the beating, exposing torn flesh beneath.
And still—
He stood.
Kel quietly watched everything from the edge of the arena.
His dark eyes remained calm externally.
Yet internally—
Old memories surfaced one after another.
The Crimson Dragon King.
One of the strongest figures in Destiny.
One of the loneliest too.
Kel remembered everything about him.
Because unlike many rulers within the game—
The Crimson Dragon King was not born cruel.
He was created that way.
His mother died protecting him during a noble purge against the Crimson Bloodline.
His elder sister—the original chosen candidate for the throne—fell mysteriously ill shortly afterward.
Poisoned politically perhaps.
Or broken mentally.
No one knew fully.
And because of that—
The burden fell upon him instead.
The sole surviving male heir of the Crimson Bloodline.
Meanwhile—
His father…
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Almighty Crimson Flame Dragon.
The previous Dragon King.
The most feared Dragon King in draconic history.
A being so overwhelmingly powerful that even centuries later dragons still whispered his name cautiously.
And yet—
Even that monster fell eventually.
Killed by the current Silver Dragon King during the succession wars.
But the fear left behind by the Crimson Flame Dragon remained so deeply rooted within draconic society…
That many noble clans attempted eradicating the Crimson Bloodline entirely afterward.
Which led to his mother's death.
His sister's collapse.
And this boy's ruined childhood.
Kel quietly watched the crimson-haired youth getting mocked again by surrounding noble dragons.
No guidance.
No warmth.
No protection.
Only hatred.
Fear.
Isolation.
And eventually—
That loneliness transformed him into something terrifying.
The future Crimson Dragon Emperor.
The worst Dragon King in history.
A ruler who slaughtered dragons without hesitation.
Who burned noble clans entirely.
Who became the first Dragon King ever granted the title—
Dragon Slayer.
Not because he hunted enemies.
But because he hunted his own kind.
Kel remembered countless late-game storylines describing entire draconic territories annihilated beneath crimson flames.
No mercy.
No negotiations.
No restraint.
And now—
The origin of that hatred stood before him.
Bruised.
Bleeding.
Alone.
Sairen softly whispered through the soul-link.
"…You pity him."
Kel remained silent briefly.
Then quietly answered.
"No."
The guardian waited.
Kel's dark eyes remained fixed upon the crimson-haired youth.
"I understand him."
Meanwhile—
One gold-scaled noble dragon suddenly slammed the crimson-haired youth against another stone pillar violently.
BOOM.
Cracks spread across the pillar instantly.
"Still glaring?"
The noble sneered coldly.
"You really think your cursed bloodline can return to the throne?"
Another dragon noble laughed harshly.
"His father's dead."
"His bloodline's finished."
"You should kneel before the Silver Crown instead of pretending to be royalty."
The crimson-haired youth slowly wiped blood from his mouth afterward.
And despite everything—
Those burning crimson eyes still held hatred.
Terrifying hatred.
Not weakness.
Not surrender.
Hatred sharp enough to cut.
Kel quietly exhaled beneath the crimson sky.
Then finally—
He stepped forward.
The sound of his boots against broken stone echoed softly through the arena.
Immediately—
Several noble dragons turned toward him.
The atmosphere shifted slightly.
Because the disguised black dragon walking calmly into the arena did not look intimidated at all.
Kel stopped near the battered crimson-haired youth.
Then calmly looked toward the surrounding nobles.
"…Interesting."
One silver-scaled dragon narrowed his eyes sharply.
"What?"
Kel's lips curved faintly beneath his illusionary disguise.
"I was wondering what all the noise was."
The volcanic winds moved softly through the broken arena.
"But apparently…"
His eyes slowly scanned the surrounding noble heirs.
"…it takes an entire group to beat one injured dragon."
Silence.
The atmosphere instantly darkened.
Several nobles frowned immediately.
"What did you say?"
Kel tilted his head slightly.
"Was I unclear?"
The black-haired man calmly glanced toward the crimson-haired youth leaning against shattered stone.
"You're all attacking together."
Then slowly—
He looked back toward them.
"And still he's standing."
The insult landed perfectly.
Several noble dragons visibly stiffened.
Because among draconic society—
Honor and strength mattered heavily.
And Kel had just openly mocked their pride.
One gold-scaled noble stepped forward aggressively.
"You outsider trash…"
Kel interrupted calmly.
"If he's truly weak…"
A faint smile appeared.
"…why not challenge him one-on-one?"
Silence spread across the arena again.
The surrounding noble dragons looked visibly irritated now.
Because the answer was obvious.
Even injured—
Even isolated—
The crimson-haired youth remained dangerous.
Which was exactly why they attacked together.
Meanwhile—
The future Crimson Dragon King slowly raised his eyes toward Kel again.
Confusion flickered faintly within those burning crimson pupils.
Because this was new.
Someone stepping forward for him.
Someone openly mocking nobles on his behalf.
It made no sense.
Kel calmly stood between him and the surrounding dragons beneath the burning crimson heavens.
His black coat moved softly through the volcanic winds while his golden slit eyes reflected the arena coldly.
And strangely—
For the first time in many years—
The future Dragon Emperor felt something unfamiliar.
Not trust.
Not gratitude.
Confusion.
Because he genuinely could not understand—
Why someone would stand beside him voluntarily.