Prologue
Blue eyes with a round pupil peered at two yellow stars.
Instead of pupils - sharp spindles.
The man and the dragon looked at each other.
A creature that has lived for millions of years, the last of which languished in its eternal tomb. Unable to move its tail or claw, it gazed into the eternal emptiness of its soul.
A person, who has lived in the dungeon of his own body one life and continues to exist the same in his second.
A beautiful dragon whose beauty was sung in a thousand and one songs. The legendary conqueror of heaven and the master of starlight, was cast down like a mere mortal.
Disgusting appearance of a young man. Hands twisted at unnatural angles. Scabbed covered skin, scarred face, almost white, bald scalp and purulent blisters. Instead of legs - wooden stumps.
One of the most brilliant masters of his time, who reached the pinnacle of the development of the martial arts of his country.
The once-talented prince, whose body was made incapable of even running, not so much as practicing art.
In a dark cave, among ancient chains sealed with energy so dense that it could even be felt, they lay in front of each other.
A bug and a monster, the size of a small mountain.
Whether fate brought them, or a case or a ridiculous coincidence - no one knew.
The dragon from boredom was going to devour this disgusting mortal, but suddenly noticed a look. Looking blue, sky-azure eyes. In spite of everything, there was no despair, no regret, no fear, not a single wormhole.
Only the body was rotten, but the gaze remained clear and ferocious. So ferocious that if he were material, he could split the heavens and bring them to the ground.
- What is your name, little bug?
- Hadjar Duran. And you, face scaly?
The dragon was about to dissolve the insolent in his strength, but suddenly he laughed and with his laughter trembled thousands of years of chains and a stone split in the dungeon with cracks.
- Traves name is mine.
They looked at each other. Prisoner of impregnable dungeon and prisoner of his own body and fate.
Traves knew that even without being chained, no mortal could get out of here. The mystery for him was how this ant, in principle, managed to get here.
This "Hadjar" could not bring help to him, could not bring news to the world that the great Traves is still alive. Now they were locked together here. Forever, well, or until the mortal dies of hunger.
So, Traves's revenge will never happen.
Hadjar did not understand how he was so lucky that he not only did not drown in the underwater current, did not break his head on the endless rapids, did not hurt himself to death in a waterfall and did not fall under the arrows of the archers. How he even escaped from the city on his improvised artificial limbs.
And yet, just one glance at the whirlpool that spat it out into this underwater grotto is enough to became clear that he would die of starvation here.
So, the revenge of Hadjar Duran will never happen.
The dragon gazed at the bug's equally fierce gaze. He did not flinch, did not squander his rage, even realizing the fact of complete hopelessness.
- I lived a long life, Hadjar Duran. I saw how empires were built. Seen as eternal cities collapsed. I fought with geniuses and plunged the immortals. I created techniques so complex that many adepts still break their heads over them. And yet, Hadjar Duran, I remained only a small spot in the world of martial arts.
- "A small spot?" - Hadjar hemmed mentally and caused one of the few functions that his neural network was capable of.
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Имя: Травес
Уровень развития: ????????????????
Сила: ????????????????
Ловкость: ????????????????
Телосложение: ????????????????
Очки энергии: ????????????????
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If "a small spot" looked like that, then who were all the previous adepts he had encountered? Who was he then? Dust? Microbe? Recall?
- I have lived two lives, - if Duran would have had the strength, he would make a smug grin. - So consider me cooler.
All he has left is stupid jokes and bravado. Actually - that's all he ever had in principle. Jokes, bravado and inflexible will.
- Hadjar Duran, will you make a deal with me, as a result of which you will most likely die a death so terrible that children, listening to stories about you, will fear losing consciousness?
- Do you entrust your "deal" to me? Because as a result, even idiots are likely to laugh at you.
The dragon laughed. Today was a good day for his death and the beginning of his revenge. Finally…
- Creep under my claw, little bug.
Hadjar did not argue. If this creature would wonted, It would have already split him with only one of his desires. So Duran, clinging his teeth, crawled. Scabs and blisters plagued by stone floors caused unbearable suffering.
But he crawled.
The steel claw, the size of a windmill, resembled a guillotine.
But he crawled anyway. To his death. To his vengeance.
Ten meters became his personal green mile.
Traves with visible effort raised his claw. Not much, only a little (for the dragon), but enough for the little bug to crawl under it.
- Are you ready, Hadjar Duran?
- Come on, muzzle. Proceed, to whatever were you going there ...
And the cave was flooded with the cry of a man and the roar of a dragon.
[Message to user! Unauthorized changes to the physical structure of the carrier! Replacing one of the central organs!]
Hadjar's old heart, which had survived so much pain and despair, was drowned in a maelstrom. In his own chest now the dragon heart was beating, created by Traverse from a drop of his blood and all the will that he could find in himself.
The dragon was dying and the man was reborn.
The age-old chains collapsed, the ancient dungeon fell and streams of water enveloping the body writhing in agony, carried it towards the shimmering sun above the surface.
But how did it happen that a man with a neural network came before the eyes of a dragon and received his heart?
