The Lizardman lowered his spear, but only slightly. His stance remained rigid, feet planted like tree roots. He stood at least thirty feet away — far enough that if he decided to throw that spear, Hibana wouldn't have time to react.
"You... you not human!" His voice came low and strained, like he couldn't trust his own words. "How did you do that?"
Hibana let out a slow breath and slumped down where he stood, curling his tail around himself. The cold earth bit into his scales, but it was better than standing tense like he was about to be stabbed.
"Magic." His voice was dry, tired. No explanation would satisfy the Lizardman — Hibana knew that much.
The air shifted — cold and sharp. Appraisal magic. Hibana felt it crawl down his back like cold fingers tapping his scales.
The Lizardman's brow furrowed as the results appeared before him.
"You are F-tier... and level one?!" His voice rose in disbelief. "But you're too big to be a hatchling. Have you not even been hunting? How are you even alive?"
His spear shifted again — higher this time, the tip flicking dangerously in the air.
"Everything about you is wrong..." His grip tightened. "What are you?!"
Hibana sighed through his nose. "I get that question a lot," he muttered. "I assure you... I'm a dragon."
The Lizardman's spear jerked upward, this time pointing directly at Hibana's chest — though the distance made the threat feel distant... theoretical. But Hibana knew better. Spears had a way of finding their target.
"That's what I don't get!" the Lizardman spat. "You should be dead! Weak dragons don't survive past their first winter. The world doesn't allow them to live!"
Hibana's gaze drifted to the ground — then past it, to memories still too raw to sit comfortably.
Cold nights huddled beneath twisted roots. The dull ache of gnawing hunger. Grek's grin after a successful hunt, wide and proud like he'd just killed a god. Goroh's steady hand on his shoulder, telling him, You've done well, Hibana. We'll make it one more day.
"I should be," Hibana said softly. "But I had help... from some friends."
The Lizardman's brow twitched at the word. "Friends?" His voice curled with disbelief. "Dragons don't know the meaning of that word!"
Hibana gave a dry chuckle. "I know." He scratched at the dirt with one claw. "But... I'm not like most dragons."
The Lizardman's spear wavered slightly, but it didn't lower. His gaze sharpened, suspicious. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Hibana said, his voice firm now, "that I'm not here to fight you."
He sat straighter, folding his wings tightly against his back.
"I came here because I know what's coming," Hibana continued. "I know about the adventurers. The guild. They'll send stronger parties. More men. They won't stop until they've killed you... or driven you from your home."
The Lizardman's fingers flexed along his spear shaft, his grip like a vice. His eyes narrowed. "We can defend ourselvesss..."
"Not for long." Hibana's voice cut through him. "Not alone."
He paused, letting the weight of the words hang in the air.
"That's why I'm offering you something," Hibana said. "A place with me. Somewhere safe."
The Lizardman blinked — then scoffed.
"Safe?" His lip curled back in a sneer. "What, you've built some fortress in the woodss?"
Hibana shook his head. "No. But I've found a place the adventurers can't reach."
"And where would that be?" The Lizardman's voice dripped with skepticism.
"The Fae Wilds," Hibana said calmly.
The Lizardman froze.
For a beat, there was nothing but the wind.
Then, his laugh barked out sharp and bitter.
"The Fae Wilds?" His grin widened in disbelief. "You really are a dragon — a liar to the very end!"
Hibana's face hardened. "I've seen it," he said. "I've walked inside."
The Lizardman jabbed the spear toward the dirt in frustration, shaking his head. "Impossible! No one can enter the Fae Wilds — no lizard, no human... not even the gods themselvesss! The barrier keepss everything out!"
"It doesn't keep me out," Hibana said flatly.
The Lizardman's eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked down to Hibana's F-tier status. The spear twitched in his hand like an anxious limb.
"You expect me to believe that?!" he spat. "You? An F-tier runt claiming to have walked through the most impassable magic in the world?"
"I don't expect you to believe me," Hibana said with a shrug. "But if you'd rather gamble your tribe's future on pride instead of possibility... that's your call."
The Lizardman scowled, scales along his brow tightening. He stepped back — not in retreat, but as if weighing something.
"I will... sspeak to my tribe." His voice was tense, almost like he resented the words.
"Fair enough," Hibana said. "I'll wait."
The Lizardman lingered a moment longer, then turned and stalked away into the trees.
Hibana sat back, feeling his muscles relax for the first time in what felt like hours.
As Hibana waited for the Lizardman to return, his hands itched — not the sharp sting of an insect bite, but something deeper. A dull, crawling sensation beneath his scales. He scratched at it absently at first, tracing the dry, flaky patches forming along his fingers.
Then he noticed it.
His skin was peeling.
He flexed his claws, watching thin, papery scales crack and lift away. The flakes clung stubbornly at first, like layers of dead bark. He dug his claw under one patch and peeled.
The old scales came away in large, curling sheets, crackling softly as they tore free. Hibana froze, startled by how... strange it felt. It wasn't painful — not like pulling off a scab. It was something else entirely. Unfamiliar yet... oddly pleasant.
Curious, he kept going.
The more he peeled, the easier it came. Strips of old scales sloughed off his arms and chest in long, curling sheets. The sensation bloomed across his body, like the faint tickle of wind passing through his skin. There was a warmth beneath it — not heat, but something deeper. A surge of... something. Something exhilarating.
He pulled away another patch, and the new scales beneath glistened in the light — smooth, fresh, and perfect. His whole body seemed to breathe easier, like he'd been trapped in a layer too tight and was finally stretching free.
This feels... good, Hibana thought, both confused and fascinated. Weird... but good.
His fingers trailed along his sides, feeling the smooth, cool scales beneath. He couldn't stop himself from pressing his palm to his chest, savoring the odd comfort. The air brushing his skin felt sharper now — cleaner, like he'd been blind to the texture of the world until this very moment.
The base of his horns throbbed, a sharp reminder that his body wasn't done changing yet. He reached up, fingers brushing the tender bumps behind his jaws. They ached terribly, but the pain barely registered compared to the rush still buzzing beneath his skin.
And then there was something else — something softer. His claws shifted along the top of his head, feeling the familiar hard ridges… and something new.
Fur.
Thin and patchy, but undeniably there — a small tuft of scruffy fur now sprouted from the ridges above his eyes.
Hibana stared at his clawed fingers for a long moment, still trying to process everything. He flexed his hands, feeling his joints glide smoothly under fresh scales. His muscles still ached, his horns still throbbed... but beneath the discomfort was a sense of renewal. Of power.
Like his body had finally caught up with something it had been chasing for a long time.
So this is what it feels like to be a dragon...
Alien. Strange. Yet somehow... right.
After Hibana finally cleaned off the last stubborn patches of old skin, he looked down at what remained.
The empty husk lay sprawled on the ground, curled and twisted like a forgotten shed cloak. Most of it had come off in one piece — an eerie outline of his former self. The jagged shapes of scales, the delicate trace of his wings, even the faint imprint of his claws were still visible in the brittle shell.
He fixated on it, unable to look away.
That's me... or it was, he thought.
The sight felt strange — like glimpsing a photograph of someone he'd once known, but no longer recognized.
I should have expected this... His gaze lingered on the tattered remains of his face — hollow, empty, and lifeless. I am a giant lizard, after all.
And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about it — like a weight he'd been carrying without realizing it had finally fallen away. He flexed his fingers again, feeling the fresh, glistening scales stretch smoothly over his knuckles.
The Lizardman returned not long after — and he wasn't alone. Two more stood beside him, their scales darker and their eyes sharper, each gripping a crude spear.
"Follow us to our cave," the Lizardman said.
Hibana nodded and began walking after them. Before leaving, he glanced back at the pile of shed skin lying in the dirt.
The brittle shell looked so small now, like the remains of something frail and lifeless. The jagged outline of scales, the twisted imprint of his claws — a hollow imitation of the dragon he was becoming.
I leave a part of me behind here, he thought.
With a quiet exhale, he turned away.
The Lizardmen led him along a winding path that cut deeper into the wilderness. The air grew colder, the trees twisted and crooked as if recoiling from the earth itself. Soon, they reached what looked like the ruins of some ancient structure — toppled stones strewn across the ground like scattered ribs. Crumbling walls jutted up from the earth, choked in vines and moss.
The architecture was... strange. Not crude like goblin dens or the rough forts built by human bandits. These stones were carved with sharp angles and sweeping curves, their patterns chaotic yet deliberate. Each piece seemed out of place, yet undeniably intentional — like a language Hibana couldn't begin to understand.
This isn't like anything I've seen before... he thought.
The air smelled faintly of damp stone and stale earth.
The Lizardman gestured forward. "Inside."
Hibana stepped through the broken archway. The interior was cold and quiet, littered with fallen debris and jagged cracks that let in faint streaks of daylight.
At the far end of the ruined chamber, a tunnel yawned open — a dark, gaping mouth that led deeper underground.
Hibana stared down into the tunnel. The air that drifted out carried a strange weight — dry, heavy, and still.
I hope I'm not walking into something I can't handle... he thought.
And with that, he followed the Lizardmen down into the earth.
Inside the cave, the air was thick — damp and heavy with the scent of sweat, blood, and smoke. The walls were rough and uneven, clawed out of stone by hand. Fires flickered in crude pits, their light dancing along the figures of countless Lizardfolk. They were busy — mining jagged stones from the walls, butchering freshly caught game, or scraping hides into crude garments. The air buzzed with movement, but every pair of eyes still flicked toward Hibana.
He didn't belong here. The gleam of his fresh scales made him stand out — a flicker of copper in a world of stone.
The Lizardmen led him to their chief — an older, gruff Lizardman covered in scars from past battles. One of his eyes was missing, the empty socket concealed beneath a band of cracked bone. His armor was a patchwork of bones from countless creatures, some twisted and jagged... others worryingly human.
The chief's cold stare settled on Hibana, and he let out a breath like gravel scraping over stone.
"You bring an F-tier dragon before me," the chief rasped, his voice thick and guttural. "Thisss iss quite a boon. But he's awfully big for a baby."
Hibana stepped forward. "My name is Hibana," he said firmly. "I've come to offer your tribe a new home — safe from the adventurers who would come to kill you."
The first Lizardman Hibana had met scoffed. "He claims to come from the Fae Wildsss!"
The chief's expression darkened, and he shook his head. "Ridiculoussss! Nobody visssitss the Fae Wildss! And even if that were true, we are ssstrong here! A pathetic weakling dragon like thisss couldn not possssibly offer protection from our enemiesss!"
Hibana sighed. "I was hoping you'd be willing to negotiate."
The chief's lip curled back, revealing jagged teeth. He raised his hand. "Sssilence, worm! We don't have the luxury to negotiate with weak dragon scum like you!" He lowered his hand, his tone sharp and final. "You have two choicesss. Either you choossse to live here as our ssslave and fight with uss... or you will die here. The choisss is yoursss."
Hibana sat down and shook his head. I was afraid of this, he thought. He knew the Lizardfolk wouldn't listen to reason — not yet. But he couldn't give up.
"What if I proved I was stronger than your best warrior?" Hibana asked.
The chief's expression froze — and then, after a moment of stunned silence, he let out a sharp, hissy laugh. The sound echoed off the walls, drawing the attention of nearby Lizardfolk.
"Okay... thisss amussesss me!" the chief said, reaching down to grab a twisted wooden scepter. He shook it once, and the rattling sound of bones filled the air.
The crowd parted. Heavy footsteps thudded against the stone floor. Out of the shifting bodies stepped a large Lizardman. His scales were dark and scarred, like stone weathered by years of battle. His eyes were cold and sharp, calculating. He carried a scimitar — long, heavy, and well-worn. He didn't smile. He didn't snarl. He simply stared at Hibana with calm, cold certainty.
"This is Zerrusha," the chief sneered. "Our strongest warrior... and he will be happy to be your executioner."
Hibana swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Zerrusha's gaze. The Lizardman looked like he belonged in this cave — brutal, hardened, and unshakable. But Hibana didn't step back. His scales still tingled from his recent shedding. His muscles still ached from growth pains. He was far from his strongest.
If this is what I have to do to convince you all... then so be it.