Hibana looked from the towering Lizardman to the crowd of Lizardfolk forming a circle around them. He turned to the chief, his voice strained.
"This... this is what I'm talking about. Do you all really believe this is the only way? I don't want to fight him. Please—don't make me do this."
The chief sneered.
"Pathetic, weak little F-tier dragon," he spat. "Zerrusha will eat you."
Hibana turned back to the warrior.
Zerrusha stood like a living fortress — massive, scarred, and still as stone. His green scales were rough and pitted, his leather garments simple and worn from years of battle. His arms looked like tree trunks, his chest like a craggy, moss-covered boulder.
And then Hibana looked into his eyes.
Yellow. Sharp. Focused.
But behind the warrior's scowl, behind the jagged teeth and hardened posture… there it was. A flicker. A glimmer of something Hibana couldn't name.
Sadness? No. Not quite.
Something older. Something buried deep beneath the scars.
Honor, maybe. Or kindness.
Whatever it was, it hit Hibana like a whisper in a storm — soft, fleeting, and unmistakably real.
Zerrusha raised a clawed finger, pointing directly at Hibana. His voice rumbled low and gravelly, like pebbles grinding inside a rusted metal box.
"Filthy dragon... your kind ate my parentsss. Made food of them!"
His eyes narrowed, lips peeling back to reveal jagged teeth.
"The chief wantsss you to join usss... but I jussst want you dead."
Hibana's expression shifted. The chief's words hit something deep — something ugly.
There it is again, he thought. That feeling in my chest. That burning hatred.
He inhaled, slow and heavy, and exhaled smoldering pyreflies from his nose.
They weren't fireflies. Not insects. Just embers — tiny, glowing flecks that drifted from his breath like falling ash.
Pyreflies, the old word for them.Born from flame.Carried by regret.
His dragon body trembled, muscles coiled, rage prickling just beneath his scales — eager to lunge, to tear, to burn.
But Hibana held the line.
No. This wasn't the way.
He wasn't here to show them the dragon they feared.He was here to show them what a dragon could be.
Hibana stepped forward, his voice firm but shaking with restrained fury.
"I didn't eat your parents. I didn't give you those scars. I am Hibana! I came here in peace! I will not die to you... and I will not fight unless you leave me no other choice!"
Zerrusha blinked — his scaly brow rising, surprised.
Then he laughed. A cruel, guttural sound — half-mirth, half-murder.
"You have no choice, little dragon!"
He raised his scimitar high.
The blade came down fast.
Hibana dodged — just in time.
"he's fast!" Hibana thought. "but I must stay ahead of him. Perhaps if i tire him out..."
Suddenly, Zerrusha's claws closed around Hibana's tail.
Pain lanced through him as his spine jerked back — the stretch was sharp, raw, real.
Before Hibana could react, Zerrusha spun, twirling him like a flail, and hurled him into a wall of stone.
The impact rattled his bones.
His status screen flickered into view.HP: 30/30.
Didn't drop… but it sure felt like it did.
Zerrusha advanced, blade gleaming.
He swung.
Hibana dove out of the way — barely dodging the slash.
He rolled under the towering warrior's legs — only for Zerrusha's tail to whip around and catch him hard across the side.
The blow sent him sprawling, skidding to a halt near the crowd.
The watching Lizardfolk hissed and jeered, baring their fangs and flicking their tongues in mockery.
Zerrusha roared and swung again.
Hibana leapt — the blade slicing through air just beneath him.
His left foreleg buckled on the landing.
Throbbing. Definitely bruised.
He glanced at his status screen again.
Still 30/30.
Hibana grit his teeth.
Yeah… maybe I should stop checking this thing. It's glitched to hell anyway.
Zerrusha swung again — this time, the blade grazed Hibana's right cheek.
A sharp sting followed. Warm blood welled from the cut.
Hibana staggered, lifting a claw to his face. His fingers came back red.
His chest burned — not from the wound, but from the fury building beneath it.
No! I must control it!
But Zerrusha charged again, hissing through jagged teeth."Damned dragon! Fight me, coward!"
That did it.
Hibana's eyes narrowed. His lips curled back into a snarl.
Then — he ran.
He leapt through the air, twisting mid-jump — and rammed his skull straight into Zerrusha's solar plexus.
The impact cracked through the silence.
Zerrusha's breath caught. His body launched backward, crashing to the ground. His scimitar clattered across the dirt, skidding away.
Hibana hit the ground and shook his head, dazed — the heat of his blood boiling behind his eyes.
NO. I must not lose control!
His thoughts were clouded, muddled by the tide of rage.
His insults are beneath me. He doesn't know me…
His claws flexed. His breath trembled.
...But he will.
Zerrusha groaned, kneeling, one hand gripping his chest as he reached for his weapon.
"You are Ssstrong, dragon..." he spat. "But not Ssstrong enough!"
Then — with a roar — Zerrusha leapt.
He crashed down where Hibana had just been, the ground exploding beneath his landing. Rocks and dirt flew outward in a burst of raw power.
Hibana rolled clear, heart pounding.
Zerrusha turned his head to Hibana, his teeth bared. He growled. "SSsslipeprly little SSSshit!"
Hiabana shook his head. "Please! Don't make me hurt you! You're right I am strong! I'm much stronger than I appear! I don't want this to continue!"
Zerrusha advanced menacingly. "I do!" he said with a blood curdling lilt.
Zerrusha lunged.
Before Hibana could react, the massive warrior grabbed him by the throat, lifted him into the air — and threw.
Hibana soared, then crashed through a jagged stalagmite with a sickening crack.
Pain exploded through his chest.
He hit the ground hard, gasping — one rib, maybe two, definitely broken.
He staggered to his feet, legs shaky, vision swimming.
Zerrusha was already on him, weapon raised.
The blade swung.
Hibana dodged — barely — and then sprang forward with sudden resolve.
He clamped his jaws down on Zerrusha's sword wrist.
Hard.
The taste of blood filled his mouth — thick, coppery, alive.
And then something strange happened.
A feeling surged through his mind — wild, alien, ancient. For a moment, he saw flashes: the dry caves, the stone huts, the endless hunger, the whispered pride of surviving another year.
This is what it's like... to be one of them.
The moment snapped.
Zerrusha let out a roar of pain, dropping his blade with a clatter.
He reeled back and punched Hibana in the ribs — the force knocking the dragon loose and sending him skidding across the stone.
Clutching his injured wrist, Zerrusha bellowed, "Now you'll die for that!"
He turned to retrieve his sword.
Hibana lay gasping, blood on his tongue, pain screaming in his side.
He glanced at his stats.
23/30 HP.
So it's finally working again, he thought bitterly. Of course now it works.
He forced himself upright, chest heaving.
I have to end this… but how?
His mind reached for a weapon — instinctual, powerful.
Fireball.
His claws twitched.
But he froze.
No. That would kill him. I... don't want to kill him.
He looked at his clawed hands, trembling with hesitation.
Maybe… maybe if I can just control how much power I use…
Hibana raised his right hand.
He felt it — that now-familiar pull of magic, the heat rising in his palm. Fireball. Just like Solryn had taught him.
Flames began to gather, swirling, crackling — hungry.
Across the cave, Zerrusha paused mid-step.
"What'sss thisss?!" he hissed.
Then he charged.
Hibana's breath caught in his throat.
His heart screamed.
A tear slipped down his cheek as the fire left his hand.
The Fireball surged forward, trailing heat and sorrow — and struck Zerrusha dead-on.
The explosion roared through the cavern.
The ground trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling. The watching Lizardfolk cried out in shock.
Zerrusha's body flew backward like a ragdoll and slammed into the far wall.
The stone cracked under the force.
He landed on his feet — just barely.
Smoke curled from his chest. His expression was empty. Dazed.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
Then collapsed.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Hibana limped over to Zerrusha. The massive Lizardman lay still.
The chief stood suddenly, his voice laced with alarm.
"What isss thisss?!"
He hurried to Zerrusha's side as others followed, forming a circle around their fallen champion. Several Lizardfolk helped turn Zerrusha onto his back.
"Don't be dead!" Hibana shouted, his voice echoing off the cavern walls.
The chief pressed his ear to Zerrusha's chest.
A long silence.
Then he rose slowly and turned to Hibana, face grim.
"…He is dead."
Hibana's mind fractured.
"NOOOO!" he screamed, rushing to Zerrusha's side."No! It was too much—I couldn't control it!"
Tears welled in his eyes, heat curling in his chest.
"No! I won't accept this! I… can't!"
The chief stepped back.
So did the rest of the Lizardfolk, their gazes wide and confused. They didn't understand what they were seeing.
One lizard woman whispered, "Why doesss thisss dragon cry?"
A male answered, hesitant. "I don't know… mussst be sssomething wrong with him."
Hibana whipped around. "There's nothing wrong with me!"
And then it hit him — a flash of memory so vivid it felt like stepping through time.
Tetsuo. Eighth grade. Health class.
He was doodling in his notebook, half-asleep from another boring lecture. His teacher, Mr. Asoka, stood at the front, speaking in that droning, almost lifeless tone:
——"This is a basic technique for saving a life. You're probably all aware of CPR, but allow me to demonstrate the proper method..."——
Hibana blinked.
Wait… CPR?
The memory had been buried. Forgotten.
But somehow… it was there.
He turned back to Zerrusha, dropped to his haunches, and placed his hands over the warrior's chest.
"Come on… please…"
He pressed down, just like Mr. Asoka had shown — his palms stacked, arms straight, rhythm steady.
Thirty compressions… then breathing. Right?
The chief knelt beside him, watching in confusion.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Hibana didn't answer. He just kept going — pressing, breathing, hoping.
Then — a cough.
Zerrusha's body jolted. He gasped for air, wheezing — alive.
The cave fell silent.
The chief stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief.
"You… you are no dragon…" he whispered.He stared at Hibana, voice shaking."What are you?"
After a short time, the gathered Lizardfolk began to huddle around Hibana, their once-hostile stares softened with curiosity… and something else. Something like awe.
Hibana looked over at Zerrusha, who now sat slumped against the back wall. The warrior's breath was steady, but his eyes were distant — fixed on Hibana with an expression he couldn't quite read.
Fear? Doubt?
He wasn't sure.
But Hibana smiled.
And Zerrusha looked away.
Then Hibana turned to the chief.
The old Lizardman sat upright once more on his makeshift throne, the weight of what he'd witnessed still heavy on his scarred face.
At last, he spoke.
"…What isss it you want from usss?"
Hibana glanced around the cavern. The walls, the worn stone, the flickering torchlight reflecting in hundreds of reptilian eyes.
"I told you," he said. "I've come to offer you something better. A place to live. With me. In the Fae Wilds."
He stepped forward, voice calm, but firm.
"I truly do have a home there. And I want all of you to come with me. I'm building something real — something strong. And I know you'd make it stronger. Especially Zerrusha."
The chief looked around at the ruined walls and worn stone — the ghost of a dying legacy.
"We have nothing to offer you, Dragon..."
Hibana shook his head.
"My name is Hibana. And it's not about what you can offer me."
He paused.
"It's about what I can offer you."
He took a breath, the words carried more by heart than air.
"Adventurers are out there. And they want you dead. Just like the goblins. Just like the kobolds. They don't care what you've done or how hard you've fought to survive. They just see monsters."
"But I don't."
He looked each of them in the eyes.
"I see people. Tired, hungry, desperate people — who still haven't given up."
He took a final step forward.
"I'm offering you a place they'll never find. A place where you can live. Grow. It won't be easy. In fact, it might be harder than this. But it'll be life."
"And I'll protect it. I swear to you — I'll protect you. All of you."
His voice dropped, quiet but unwavering.
"And I truly mean that."