Claiming My Due

Barlo shook Roger, swinging him back and forth like a child on a swing. 

Roger, petrified and helpless, desperately waved at Owen, "Owen, I was wrong! I truly realize my mistake. I shouldn't have treated you that way. I was a fool."

Owen's eyes narrowed slightly as he reminisced in a dreamlike tone, "Back in school, you always bullied me... "

"Once, during a break while I was asleep, you poured a bucket of paint over my head, leading to a whole day of ridicule from our classmates."

"Do you know why I never fought back?"

Roger shook his head frantically, tears gushing from his eyes like a fountain: "I don't know, I really didn't know, I'll never do it again..."

His once-prized identity as the saint of the angel race meant nothing in front of Owen. 

Owen was the king among them, the one who commanded all attention.

A cruel smile played on Owen's face, "It's not that I couldn't fight back. It's because I knew we were not from the same world."

"I let you bully me, knowing that one day, all the pain you inflicted on me, I would return a hundredfold, a thousandfold!"

Roger looked terrified, even pressing closer to Barlo, unwilling to be near Owen. 

To him, Owen was the real monster.

"Just kill him," Owen's cruel smile vanished, replaced by a blank expression as he waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly, 

"I don't want to see this guy anymore."

His classmates looked on in horror, seeing Owen as if he were a stranger. 

Even those who had bullied Owen before now hid behind others, afraid of attracting his attention.

"As you wish, my lord," Barlo responded, his index finger transforming into a sharp, dragon-like claw, slicing through the air around him.

Roger broke down completely, wailing, "No... I don't want to die."

At this moment, the white-haired elder stepped forward, his face still showing shock, "Barlo, hold your hand."

Barlo frowned at the elder, "Eldrich Stormrider, do you wish to duel with me?"

The elder shook his head slightly, smiling lightly, "You war-hungry maniac, I have no desire to fight you."

"It's just that killing this person will affect the reputation of my Grand Magus Academy, so..."

"What does that have to do with me?" 

Barlo's eyebrows knitted together, his dragon claw poised to pierce Roger's chest. 

Eldrich, left with no choice, turned towards Owen, "Saint of the Dragons, I know your lineage is powerful."

"But if you wish to develop comprehensively, you will inevitably come to study magic at my Grand Magus Academy in the future... I offer you a 'Heart of Magus' in exchange for Roger's life!"

"Wait!" 

Owen shouted, and Barlo immediately halted his action. 

Roger, looking at the dragon claw at his chest, had cried himself dry. 

He never imagined his life would be in Owen's hands.

"What is a 'Heart of Magus'?" Owen inquired.

"You can consider it as an unconditional token for entry into the Grand Magus Academy," Eldrich hastily explained.

Owen scoffed, "I am the Saint of the Dragons. If I wanted to force my way into the Grand Magus Academy, could you really stop me?"

Barlo laughed arrogantly, "I like your attitude, saint. But if the Grand Magus Academy decides not to admit someone, they really can achieve that."

Owen looked at Barlo speechlessly, thinking, 'Then why are you so happy?'

"What do you think about this deal?" Owen turned to Barlo, deferring to his experience in such matters.

Barlo pondered for a moment, then shrugged slightly, "Though I hate to admit it, humans are the strongest in the realm of magic... The Grand Magus Academy is a good place for a saint to progress."

"So, this is a profitable deal?"

"Not exactly profitable. Killing a saint of the angel race could also enhance your reputation."

"What's the use of such empty fame? I'll take the deal!"

Eldrich pulled out a token, the Heart of Magus, a finely crafted silver badge adorned with a mysteriously glowing ruby. 

This ruby seemed to contain endless magical strength, exuding an irresistible allure. 

The token's edges were encircled with exquisite patterns, seemingly composed of ancient magical runes, each detail brimming with mystery and depth. 

These runes shimmered under the sunlight, as if whispering ancient secrets.

At the center of the token was a complex magical pattern, made up of countless lines and symbols, each precise and seemingly refined through numerous iterations. 

This pattern, highlighted by the ruby's reflection, appeared especially striking, like a miniature universe full of endless possibilities.

"Saint of the Dragons, please keep this safe. The 'Heart of Magus' is not just an identity token, but also a subartifact," Eldrich said as he handed the token to Owen.

In Novalia, weapons are categorized as common, uncommon, rare, epic, legendary, subartifact, and divine artifact.

Eldrich casually handing out a subartifact was indeed a grand gesture.

"Artifact?" 

Owen, usually composed, couldn't hide his shock, "This is an artifact?"

Barlo, standing beside him, curled his lips disdainfully, "Hmph, this is the advantage of humans."

"Their ability to craft magical items is rare, but the 'Heart of Magus' isn't a true artifact. It's just capable of accumulating arcanergy to a demigod level, not particularly useful."

Eldrich shook his head slightly, his demeanor still gracious despite his subartifact being belittled, 

"Master Barlo may not find it impressive, but for a magus just beginning to learn magic, the 'Heart of Magus' can be of great assistance."

Barlo snorted but didn't argue further.

"Saint of the Dragons, may I take Saint Roger into my custody?" Eldrich asked softly.

Owen's eyes shifted, looking into Roger's eyes, "You've been saved. Are you happy?"

Joy flickered in Roger's eyes as he was about to nod, but Owen's expression turned sinister, "Although I can't kill you, I'll collect my due interest first."

With that, Owen slapped Roger across the face, then backhanded him... 

With a series of swift strikes, Roger's handsome face quickly swelled up like a pig's, bleeding and drooling.

"Stop hitting... please..." Roger begged incoherently.

Eldrich closed his eyes slightly, as if seeing nothing. 

Saving Roger's life had already cost him a "Heart of Magus"; further intervention might lead to more losses. 

Besides, Owen and Roger had a history; not allowing Owen to vent seemed unfair.

Only when Owen's hand began to swell slightly did he stop. 

Grabbing Roger's chin, he warned, "Remember, every bit of pain you inflicted on me will be returned a hundredfold, a thousandfold. Train well, for I will personally come to the angel race to take your wretched life."

After speaking, he signaled Barlo to release him. 

Barlo tossed Roger to Eldrich like a ball. 

Eldrich's fingers moved subtly, a stream of arcanergy catching Roger, then a faint green light flashed, healing the wounds on Roger's face instantly.

Owen watched, astonished. 

This... was magic?

Barlo, seeing Owen's expression, smiled slightly, "My lord, it's time to return. The elders of our clan are anxiously awaiting."

Owen nodded slightly, "How shall we proceed?"

With a mysterious smile, Barlo's body suddenly started to shimmer with blue light. 

His skin turned pale, gradually adorned with a pattern of frost. 

Heavy dragon scales spread across his body, each scale gleaming with a deep blue cold light.

Barlo's limbs began to transform, his fingertips elongating and becoming sharp. 

Distinct claws extended from his fingers. 

His arms swelled rapidly, matching his now massive heart, making his entire body more robust and powerful.

His back twisted intensely as enormous dragon wings burst forth, covering his shoulders and shrouded in swirling frost. 

These vast and powerful wings became his impressive equipment, allowing him to soar freely in the sky, exuding speed and majesty.

Finally, his head started to morph, his eyes turning golden, radiating a cold gleam. 

Barlo felt his teeth grow longer and sharper. 

A formidable dragon snout emerged from his face, exuding an aura of dominance and authority.

"Mount my back, my lord," he said.

Transforming from a man into an ice dragon, this miraculous scene unfolded before Owen. 

He showed no panic, instead looking intrigued. 

He leaped up and landed on Barlo's back.

Barlo let out a long, dragonic howl, which Owen surprisingly understood.

"Hold tight, my lord. We are departing."

With a slight flap of his wings, Barlo leapt into the clouds, leaving behind the stunned saints of other races and the awe-struck representatives of the various races.