CHAPTER 1 - ENTERING HANS EDENBERG

  The water drizzled over a drifting boy in the Surmitini lake. He was hurled into the lake like a shooting star, which turned the splashed water coming down into a soft shower. After returning to his senses, he found his rough breathings masking the rain-like sound. The pain kept reminding him of his lack of luxury to pass out.

  The battered body was swaying along with the flow of the lake, but the resentful eyes staring at him were more worrisome than where he was floating away. His body was screaming in pain, so it was hard for him to find out what was hurting more. He turned to look at his sides and saw his right hand absent from the usual place. However, he inwardly knew that this was not all that he had lost. He glanced at the creature, which was in no better condition, either.

A mouthful of blood came from the boy's mouth as he tried to shout.

Shit!!

  It was not the pain but his pitiful situation, which he could not bear to see. He pushed himself to raise his head to see his condition once more and attempted to feel his legs, which proved to be another futile endeavour. His legs were deafeningly silent and did not move an inch. He lost the strength in his neck, which led his head to fall into the water, causing a small ripple. He thought to himself, not believing his situation,

Damn it, what is this? This was not supposed to happen. That shitty lizard went full hardcore on me.

  Hans leaned against his neck, tilting it downwards to take a clear look at the dragon, with whom he was battling for his life. It stood there, drenched in its own blood, panting. One of his wings was barely hanging on and the other one got ripped off from the back. The dragon was in awful shape after taking Hans's full-on assault, but its condition was still better than his.

The floating boy incited the dragon.

Hey stupid "flying lizard", you haven't croaked yet, hann...

The dragon grunted; imaging his current situation was an impossible task for him, but the reality was hammering facts into his pride. He spoke through his broken jaw.

You…Pest…Ich bin jemand, der dazu bestimmt ist, der König der Drachen zu werden. Wie kannst du es wagen?

[I am someone who would have become the king of dragons. How dare you?].

  The wounded dragon's rage shook the skies as he roared in anger. Hans was laughing, not because he had successfully provoked the beast, but because the dragon still had that kind of energy in him and he could feel his end approaching.

  The dragon added the liquified fire alongside his rage in retaliation. His entire jaw resembled the crater of a volcano as ashen smoke came from the sides of his mouth. But the gods must have taken pity on Hans. The magma-like liquid fell short of gaining the momentum of a projectile owing to a torn wound on its maw. The liquified fire fell right in front of the dragon, adding another stain to its high pride.

  Hans, who was prepared to die at that moment, had earned a few extra moments, but the dragon did not make the same mistake of underestimating him again. He began squeezing every ounce of his mana from within to form his one last strike, but his beaten-up body had already lost the ability to contain the primordial power which he was trying to summon, adding the attempt to its list of failures.

  After seeing another of his attacks fail, he conceived it was not the time to give a face to his pride. Now the only way it could find to kill Hans' bug-like existence was to crush him physically. The dragon swallowed his shame and began crawling with his torn body towards the floating boy.

  But, as Hans had always believed, fortune favours the brave. His only hope for survival came literally pushing the night sky away. As the dawn approached and sunlight fell on Hans's body, he started revitalising. Seeing his recovery made the dragon cry in frustration; he didn't want to admit it, but to him, Hans was like an itch that he couldn't scratch. The dragon screamed,

sterbe einfach schon.

[ Just die already ]

Hans had recovered enough to dull his pain and sharpen his senses. He gathered the last bits of his sunstones and cast his most powerful spell.

~SuperNova~

The sunstone fragments started withering in his hand, forming a spherical mass of energy that moved slowly high towards the dragon and stopped right over him.

  The dragon was well aware of this spell; it was the only thing he feared. He knew that this frustrating human was stronger in the day. That's why he chose to fight him at night. But, unlike in the past, he lacked the strength to avoid this attack. The mass of energy started descending on the dragon, increasing its speed and raising the sound of the dragon's heart. Seeing his impending doom coming left the dread in his trembling eyes; an emotion unknown to his race was rising within him.

The dragon swallowed the rest of his pride and shouted to himself, "lauf" [ Run ] but the feeling of fear had already shackled his body. He shouted to Hans in anger, who was laughing like a madman.

du sadistischer Bastard.

[ You sadistic bastard ]

Hans, who was also within the supernova's range, quieted down when he saw the bright mass of energy falling down. His entire life flashed before the supernova sphere collided with the dragon, erasing everything in its path.

[ OFFLINE ]

SEVEN YEARS AGO

It was the imperial year 1063, in a distant place a boy of eight years was struggling against an old and well-built man.

hmph… hmph…(gasping)

I'll hit you this time.. hmph.. murmured the boy.

With a mischievous smile, the old man spoke to the panting boy,

Can't you do better, squeaky?

  Hans raised his head to face the old man, who looked around in his fifties but never behaved like it. The old man scratched his short beard and slick back the grey hairs from his brows. His copper-coloured skin was making him appear more intimidating, but Hans had no time to admire him. The wooden sword in his opponent's hand was aiming at him again, despite the old man's right hand tied behind the back; he had been beating the life out of the boy, and now it was time for him to face the massive sword again.

  Hans responded to the incoming danger by ignoring his tense shoulder with a diagonal upward slash. Seeing his pitiful attempt got the old man disappointed again. He gripped the wooden sword hilt and brashly countered the boy's futile efforts. He said annoyingly,

I warned you. If you lack the strength to put weight on your attacks, then just don't do it. Your child-like swings are not heavy enough to try these kinds of attacks.

Hans knew he was no match for him, but he never believed that making a single hit count was this difficult. He frustratingly refuted him,

Damn it, then treat me like a child, will you?

Language, boy, replied the old man.

Hans imitated the old man's way of speaking and said,

"language this and language that", I had enough. I am not doing this anymore.

Hans threw down his practice sword in frustration, which made the old man angry again. He lifted the enormous bat like a broadsword and began his onslaught on Hans' butt with unending scolding,

How often should I say your sword is your limb that you can not lose? Han, can't you remember this little thing, don't imitate me, try to forge your own way. How dare you throw the sword. Hans….

  Amid the act of tough love, Hans started crying, and Rudolf was late to realise that he was not training a soldier, but a child who needed constant care and affection, but providing that was out of character for him. So he was considering a way to entice him and found the ideal solution. He asked him,

How about we go hunting?

  Rudolf patted him on the back with an awkward laugh, and the boy looked up, wiping his eyes. It wasn't the first time Rudolf had done this to Hans; after all, his fiery temper was always getting the better of him. For the eight-year-old boy, the word "hunting" was like a magical word. He never got to hunt himself, but watching Rudolf do it was satisfying in its own right.

  From Hans's point of view, Rudolf was an unbeatable opponent whom he hoped to defeat at least once in his life. He was one of the two people he aspired to be, and hunting was the only way to see him in full action.

  Hans's favourite activity was reading; he nearly finished everything he could understand at home. The only desire left in him was to leave this desolate place and return to the civilisation that he only had read about. But this elderly couple, Rudolf, whom he called his grampa, and Sierra, his sweet grandma, were always dismissive of the idea.

  Hans had already stopped crying and was staring hopefully at his gramps, making him realise what he wanted. Rudolf slung Hans over his shoulder, and the young boy sat happily massaging his battered butt. He grabbed his temples with both hands and shouted at him to move forward. The old man said to Hans,

Here we go.

Hans responded to him, excitingly forgetting the harsh beating.

Yes, but grampa, I have grown a lot, right? so when can we leave this place?

Rudolf sighed and said,

I have told you multiple times, kiddo, it's not up for discussion.

Hans pouted and started whining. Whenever he wanted to go to the cities and places he read about; his grandparents straightforwardly denied it, but this hasn't stopped his attempts to strike up the conversation about it. He asked Rudolf with a pleading voice,

Why? We are not fugitives on the run, are we?

Rudolf sighed again and asked him,

Do you know when a sword is strongest?

Hans quickly replied to him,

Of course, after imbuing with Aura.

Rudolf chuckled and replied to him,

That's only applied to a place like "Ghost isles".

He paused a bit and added,

Sword is strongest in the sheath, silly boy.

Hans made a surprised face and responded immediately.

What kind of crap are you saying?

Rudolf stopped him.

I told you to mind the language. When you understand the meaning of my words, I will talk to your grandma about leaving, but not before then.