"Once upon a time, long ago, humans were just tiny creatures that had to hide from the


    beasts."


    "They feared the winter in the claws of the wolves, they feared the storms brought by the


    wings of the griffins, and above all… they feared the shadow of the King, the Dragon."


    "But then, one day, the Prince of the Blue Bloods arose. He was the bravest man among all


    humans..."


    "Amy—!" The sweet voice of a little girl interrupted, her face peeking out from under the


    blanket, her eyes sparkling as if she had just discovered treasure. "The Blue Prince!"


    Her brother laughed. "Yes, the Blue Prince."


    The little girl smiled widely, hugging her pillow tight.


    "Then, how did he defeat the big dragon?"


    "Ahem," her brother cleared his throat. The little girl scrunched her nose, resting her chin in


    her hands, waiting intently.


    "The Blue Prince climbed to the top of a high tower, the howling wind echoed through


    the sky. He drew his sword of blue flame and thrust it into the heart of the Dragon


    King—"


    "Then the prince married the princess!" the little girl guessed, her eyes sparkling.


    Her brother paused for a moment before smiling faintly.


    "Yes... and the prince and princess lived happily ever after."


    The little girl yawned widely, snuggling under the blanket. "Amy..."


    "Hmm?"


    "Will you marry a princess too?"


    Her brother blinked for a moment before laughing.


    "What is this?"


    "Well..." The little girl shyly looked away, playing with the edge of her blanket. "If you’re my


    blue prince, you have to marry a princess, right?"


    Her brother gently patted her head. "Let me think about it."


    The little girl immediately pouted. "No! I’ll only allow you to marry a princess who is very


    kind!"


    Her brother laughed before whispering softly, "Alright, alright."


    The flames in the hearth flickered gently, casting her brother''s shadow long on the wall, while


    the little girl slowly closed her eyes, her breathing steady.


    —


    The leaves rustled and scratched against each other under the final rays of the day, their faint golden shadows melting into the horizon. The little girl swallowed, the cold wind brushing against her skin as she stepped forward... Something was waiting in the dark shadows.


    A woman''s body lay motionless under a tree, her cloak soiled with blood and dirt, her breathing faint. This was definitely not the princess from the fairy tale.


    The little girl bit her lip, her heart pounding. She should run, but her legs wouldn''t move.


    She looked at the woman again, then took a deep breath...


    "Amiri..." she whispered softly. "I have to tell you…"


    The young man carefully lifted the young woman into his arms. Fresh blood flowed from her wounds, staining his arms, and dripping onto the floor like sand counting down to death. He could feel the severity of her injuries as she grew weaker with each passing moment. With every step he took, it felt like time was running out—she might not make it home if he didn''t hurry. Right now... his heart felt as though it would burst, every step feeling like he was racing against an unseen clock that might stop at any moment.


    "Iris, quickly tell mother!" The young man said, his voice trembling with urgency. He saw the young girl glance back and then run ahead of him with swift speed.


    The young woman, struggling to breathe, locked eyes with him. The pain almost rendered her speechless, her breaths shallow and faint, as her body trembled with the overwhelming loss of blood. The entire world around her blurred. Every movement felt strange, her body seemed like a burden too heavy to bear.


    "You''ll be fine... stay with me," the young man said softly, as he hurried through the center of the small village. His heart raced with every weighty step he took. If they were any slower, she might not survive... He quickened his pace, yet carefully cradled her to avoid making her wounds worse.


    Upon reaching the house, the young man rushed inside. His bloodstained hands brushed against the doorframe as he carefully laid her down on the wooden bed in the corner of the room. The soft glow from the fireplace filled the room with warmth, but the feeling in his heart was the complete opposite.


    "Mother, she...?" The young man asked shakily, as he tried to lay her down gently on the wooden bed.


    His mother moved quickly. As he laid the woman down, she set aside her vial of medicine and herbs, grabbing a clean cloth to wrap around the large wound, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding.


    "Iris! Quickly, bring clean cloth!" she commanded firmly. The young girl ran to the corner of the room to fetch a clean blanket that had been prepared.


    The young man stood beside them, his face full of concern, watching as his mother carefully pressed the cloth to the woman''s wound, slowly wrapping it around to stem the blood loss.


    “Don’t worry...” His mother spoke in a firm tone as she leaned down to examine the young woman’s wounds closely.


    Iris returned with clean cloth and water in hand. She carefully cleaned the woman’s wounds, moving quietly and gently. There were no words exchanged, only the sound of cloth moving and water running over the woman''s wounds. She followed her mother’s instructions with utmost care and determination.


    “Well done, Iris... The bleeding has started to slow down,” her mother said in a softer voice as she reached for a vial of herbal medicine to continue the treatment.


    The young man sat beside the unconscious woman, his heart weighed down by confusion. "Such severe wounds... What kind of creature could have done this to her? How did she survive?" he thought, though he kept the questions to himself. His body seemed frozen, caught in the dilemma of unanswered questions.


    The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window of the cozy wooden house, still filled with the lingering warmth of the fireplace. The freshness of the morning was replaced by the sweet scent of flowers planted around the house. Birds greeted the dawn, followed by the distant crowing of a rooster calling to the rising sun. The wooden door creaked open, and the young man stepped out, carrying a longbow made from dark wood. It was large enough to fell a fully-grown beast. He adjusted the quiver to rest comfortably on his shoulder before gently closing the door behind him.


    "Father," he greeted the middle-aged man, who was alternating between standing and sitting, using a hammer and file to repair a small cart.


    "Going hunting, son?" his father replied with a relaxed expression, despite the evident physical effort involved in repairing the cart.


    "Well..." The young man was about to speak but was cut off.


    "Your mother told me about the young woman’s wounds. I think it’s time to consult Uncle Will," his father said thoughtfully.


    "Uncle Will?" the young man asked in response.


    "Yes, he’s often in and out of the village. He might know something," his father nodded toward the small cart beside him and nudged it toward the young man.


    "Before you leave the village, don''t forget to stop by Uncle Taylor''s. I heard he has something for you," his father said with a cheerful smile.


    "Alright," the young man replied as he took the cart from his father.


    "Be careful, Amiri," his father added, his voice tinged with concern.


    The young man walked through the center of the village, where the cobbled streets gleamed in the morning light. Long wooden benches, though old, were still in good use, surrounded by trees that lined the streets. The songs of birds filled the air, and the chatter of villagers exchanging goods or directing passing travelers echoed around him. This was Ariawood, a small and peaceful village, far from the capital but almost at the heart of the kingdom. With well-maintained roads, it served as a perfect resting stop for both travelers and merchants.


    The young man walked for a short while before turning right into a familiar alley. After passing the first house, he felt the warmth from the iron furnace that had just been lit. A strong, dark-haired man with a wealth of experience was standing at a workbench, lifting papers up and down.


    “Uncle Taylor!” the young man called out with a familiar expression.


    "Amiri! How''s it going? Long time no see! I’ve been quite busy lately," Uncle Taylor replied with a smile and a laugh.


    "Must be a lot of customers, huh? You’re really good at this," the young man said with a smile of admiration.


    "Yeah, there’s been a lot of travelers lately. Oh... here," Uncle Taylor set the papers down and pulled something from the drawer beneath the table.


    "Happy birthday, Amiri! Sorry it’s a bit late, but I’ve really been swamped," Uncle Taylor said with a grin, handing over an object about the size of a ruler.


    It was a silver knife, its handle adorned with intricate black patterns. The sheath was made of animal hide with a tightly woven grid pattern. Amiri pulled the knife from its sheath; the blade was long and straight, more suited for stabbing but still sharp enough for slicing. The knife appeared simple, yet it carried an air of elegance and precision.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    "Do you like it?" Uncle Taylor asked, clearly proud.


    "I’m not kidding, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But the sharpness of the blade..." Amiri said, his gaze fixed on the edge with curiosity.


    "I got it from a traveler. He said this metal can kill a dragon if you strike the right spot," Uncle Taylor said seriously.


    "Haha!" The young man burst into laughter. "Dragons? Those are only in fairy tales!" He laughed even harder.


    Uncle Taylor looked at him with a neutral expression for a moment before joining in with a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying the moment.


    Amiri waved goodbye before walking out of the alley and turning right. The fragrant smell of freshly baked bread and butter drifted from a house that appeared about twice as large as the others. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and the clean, shiny windows were hurriedly opened. A voice called out from a woman with red-orange hair, of a somewhat older age.


    "Amiri, where are you off to? Have you had breakfast yet?"


    The young man turned to reply with a smile, "I''m going hunting, Aunt Lily."


    "Come on, have something to eat first," the middle-aged woman said, waving her hand to invite him inside.


    The young man placed the cart in front of the inn before opening the door. A bell rang as the door opened. Although the shop appeared old, it was clean and cozy. Inside, a fireplace provided warmth, and wooden tables were arranged neatly. Customers were eating and chatting comfortably, with some even stepping outside.


    The young man walked to his usual spot at the counter, which faced the kitchen. From there, he had a clear view of both the kitchen and the drinks bar. In the kitchen, fresh ingredients, spices, and condiments were neatly arranged.


    A young woman with orange-red hair tied up was grilling steak at the stove. She deftly placed the steak into the oven and then poured red wine into the pan. The sizzling sound of the meat and the warm steam from the pan brushed against the young man''s face.


    "Are you busy lately, Aunt?" he asked casually.


    "A little bit, yeah. At the beginning of spring, we get quite a few customers," Aunt Lily replied, continuing to cook.


    "Steak and eggs, with some warm milk — your favorite, as usual. I’ll treat you like always," Aunt Lily said cheerfully.


    "Again?" the young man smiled and scratched his head.


    "Well... last time, you brought me a whole wild boar leg. I made ham out of it, and I still haven’t served it all to the guests," Aunt Lily said, resting her chin on the counter with a lighthearted tone before turning back to the stove.


    "My dad always said that whenever I bring home game, I should share some with you because you once helped him out," the young man said while cutting his steak.


    Aunt Lily didn’t respond but continued cooking quietly.


    The young man ate happily, sipping his warm milk, then pulled four silver coins from his pocket and placed them under his plate.


    "This is really delicious, Aunt. I have to rush off now, or I’ll be late," he said before quickly heading out the door.


    "Sure, if you’re ever hungry, you know where to find me..." Aunt Lily’s warm voice echoed from the door just before it was shut quickly.


    The young man pushed his cart out of the village, where trees of various colors were budding with new leaves. A gentle breeze brushed against his face.


    "Amiri! Are you going hunting?" A sharp voice called after him.


    Amiri turned and smiled at the friend who had caught up with him—a well-built young man with dark brown hair, roughly the same height as Amiri, but noticeably more muscular.


    "Come train with me first today, won''t you?" Erik asked, trying to persuade him.


    "I can''t. We''re running low on food at home," Amiri replied briefly, though his expression was sympathetic.


    "Then I''ll come with you! Wait, let me grab my bow real quick!" Erik dashed into his house near the village entrance, slamming the door behind him. The sound of hurried rummaging followed.


    The two young men set off, leaving behind the village lined with vibrant wildflowers, heading toward the edge of the forest. The Stagwood Forest, famed as one of the most bountiful woodlands in the kingdom, stood before them. A light-gray cobblestone path guided them onward, leading into the thickening canopy of trees.


    "You’re nineteen this year, Amiri. Don''t you have any dreams?" Erik asked in a serious tone.


    "Not really. I''m happy living here as I am." Amiri answered cheerfully.


    "I want to go to the capital—become a mercenary, earn fame and fortune, and marry a beautiful woman," Erik said with a playful grin.


    "That sounds... interesting, I suppose," Amiri replied absentmindedly.


    "Listen, Amiri, if you went to the capital, you''d have women lining up to marry you, no doubt about it!" Erik teased, his face full of mischief.


    "What are you talking about?" Amiri laughed, turning to him.


    "Your hair, of course! That smoky-gray color is damn cool!" Erik pointed at Amiri’s hair, chuckling.


    "Cool? When we were kids, you used to tease me every day, calling me ‘Whitehead’ and ‘Grandpa Hair’!" Amiri said, running a finger through his strands.


    "Well, I couldn’t help it! Your dad has brown hair, your mom has brown hair, and your little sister has brown hair too." Erik grinned.


    Amiri fell silent, not replying. He simply continued walking, the towering trees and blooming wildflowers filling the path around them.


    "Oh, by the way, when are you going to teach me swordplay again?" Erik asked, his tone turning serious.


    "Why don’t you just ask your father? Uncle Wil is the best swordsman in the village," Amiri said with a curious glance.


    "True... but my dad’s hardly ever home. And besides, don’t you remember? When we were kids, I never lost to you—not even once. You were never even close to beating me. Then, one day, you secretly started training with Uncle Elwine—your father. When you came back, I couldn''t win against you anymore. Not even once." Erik explained.


    "Ah, right…" Amiri murmured.


    "And another thing—yesterday, I saw you carrying an injured person into your house," Erik added, his tone growing slightly more serious.


    "Yeah... she wasn''t in great shape," Amiri admitted, concern creeping into his voice.


    "She’ll be fine for sure," Erik said confidently.


    "And why are you so sure?" Amiri asked, puzzled.


    "Because Aunt Thalia, your mother, was the one who delivered me into this world. If anyone can save her, it’s her," Erik said warmly.


    Amiri smiled, feeling some of his worry ease. He knew Erik well—though playful, he was always sincere. Ever since childhood, Erik had been a friend he could always rely on.


    "Let''s leave the cart here..." Amiri said before the two of them set off on foot into the dense thicket. The sunlight gradually faded as they ventured deeper, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of a slow-moving stream filling the silence around them.


    —


    The boy crouched low, carefully aiming his bow at a young stag just a few paces away.


    The stillness of the forest made it feel as though time itself had frozen.


    He steadied his grip on the bow, his breath barely audible as he prepared to release the arrow.


    Just as he was about to let it fly, a squirrel suddenly leapt across a branch, startling the stag.


    It bolted away in an instant.


    The boy was about to loose his arrow anyway, but a deep voice gently interrupted him.


    "Don''t do that."


    His father stepped up beside him, his voice calm and steady.


    Lowering his bow, the boy let out a quiet sigh, disappointment flickering in his eyes. He


    glanced up to meet his father''s gaze, expecting admonishment, but instead found only


    warmth.


    "I''m not telling you to stop hunting," his father said gently. "I just want you to


    understand—hunting isn’t just about taking a life."


    The boy frowned slightly, his eyes filled with unspoken questions. His father gave a small


    smile, crouching down beside him.


    "We don’t just take a life—we make sure it doesn’t suffer needlessly,"


    he continued.


    "A true hunter strikes with precision, ensuring the animal does not endure pain or linger in


    misery. We do not leave it crippled, forced to struggle until death finally takes it."


    There was a quiet weight in his father’s voice, a lesson woven into those words. The boy


    could feel it—it wasn’t just about hunting. It was about respect, about responsibility, about


    making choices that mattered.


    —


    Amiri opened his eyes, steadying his breath. Then, with precision, he released the arrow.


    The young stag—nearly full-grown—jerked in surprise and dashed forward a few steps before collapsing. Its body trembled briefly before growing still.


    "That was a clean shot—right through the lungs, or maybe even the heart," Erik remarked, clapping Amiri on the shoulder.


    Amiri watched the fallen stag, his eyes narrowing slightly.


    "And you?" he asked in a level tone.


    "Not far from here," Erik replied, gesturing toward the direction where he had made his kill.


    The two of them moved past the stag and continued through the field of lush green grass. But before they got far, something caught their attention.


    Lying in the tall grass ahead was another fallen creature. The area around it was darker, the grass stained with blood.


    A lean, frail-looking doe lay curled up on the ground, its body motionless. Blood oozed from its wounds. One arrow had struck its face, embedding near its mouth. Another was lodged just above its front leg—the likely cause of its death.


    "You shot it twice?" Amiri asked, his voice tinged with surprise.


    "No! I only used one arrow," Erik insisted. "It must’ve been wounded before I got to it."


    Amiri exhaled softly. "Then that’s good, at least..." he murmured.


    The afternoon sunlight remained gentle, with the clear sky shifting subtly as time passed, as if easing away from the heat of midday. A cool breeze whispered through the air, lifting feathers and leaves to drift along its path. The scent of fresh grass lingered, filling the tranquil village with a warmth that felt like nature’s embrace. Everything seemed to slow, caught in a moment unhurried—there was nothing to do but savor the quiet serenity of this peaceful afternoon.


    “That’ll be 30 Renn coins, dear,” said the woman in a spotless apron, her voice calm despite the lingering scent of raw meat in the air. She glanced down at the scale’s needle as it settled, the young stag’s carcass swaying slightly before finally coming to rest.


    Aunt Anna tied the rope to a nearby tree, securing it beside the scale near her wooden table, where a large cleaver lay resting among freshly cut slabs of meat hanging nearby.


    “Could you butcher the hind legs for me to take home, Auntie? I’ll sell you the rest.”


    “I’ll give you 15 Renn for it, then,” she replied, reaching into her apron pocket before handing Amiri a handful of silver coins.


    “Thank you, Auntie,” Amiri said with a grateful smile.


    A young man appeared, his golden-blond hair flowing elegantly to his nape.


    His face and complexion radiated an otherworldly beauty,


    as if he were a celestial being. His form was flawless—like a figure torn from the pages of legend.


    “Are you members of the Celestia royal family?”


    His voice was gentle, respectful, and unwavering.


    “If you return to the land you came from, I will personally guarantee your safety.”


    He spoke with a soft smile, his demeanor exuding warmth.


    But in an instant, his form began to shift. The ethereal beauty of the young man vanished,


    replaced by a monstrous beast of staggering size. His body expanded into a towering


    dragon, its black scales gleaming like polished obsidian. Razor-sharp claws extended from


    his limbs, and his massive wings—pure white, like those of a goddess descending from the


    heavens—unfurled with a force that shook the air.


    A deafening roar erupted from his maw, splitting the sky with its sheer power. Then, he


    opened his jaws wide, revealing rows of jagged fangs before unleashing a beam of seething


    black light, shimmering with the same brilliance as his scales.


    "Father… Mother… Elle…!"


    A small girl cried out in despair as she collapsed to the ground, swallowed by the consuming darkness.


    —


    The young woman jolted awake, gasping for breath. Cold sweat trickled down her temple as her heart pounded violently, as if trying to break free from her chest.


    “You’re awake, sis?”


    A sweet, clear voice called out. Sitting at the edge of the bed, gently swinging her legs, was Iris, a book resting in her lap.


    “You’re a mage, aren’t you? …Then how did you survive an encounter with a beast like that?”


    Iris’s soft smile lingered, yet within it lay a quiet curiosity—one that held far more weight than mere innocent wonder.