The stone walls of the grand Crimson Castle glowed faintly under the golden light of the chandelier. The air was calm now, the tension from the earlier sparring match between Guy Crimson and Velgrynd melted away like mist. Rain and Misery, loyal as ever, gracefully entered with trays of delicacies and bottles of wine, their smiles proud—though Misery's lips curled just slightly in judgmental amusement, while Rain gave Velgrynd a playful side-eye like "so you can fight without blowing everything up, huh?"
The group settled into the lavish lounge—deep velvet chairs and a polished obsidian table at the center. As glasses were filled and laughter returned to the room, Guy leaned back, swirling his wine.
"You really have improved," he said, eyeing Velgrynd with a mixture of surprise and genuine respect. "You're more… in control. Not like the all-out, firestorm dragon you used to be."
Velgrynd, relaxed but radiant with quiet strength, smirked lightly. "Well, if you had endured what I endured," she said, her crimson eyes locking with Guy's, "you'd change too."
Velzard, curious as ever, leaned forward on her elbow, her tone light but sharp. "So Rudra told me you trained under Yujiro for three months?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. "That's quite the commitment."
Velgrynd nodded. "Yes. And even after that… I kept going back. From time to time. Training more. Pushing further. Every time I thought I had reached my limit—he broke it again."
Rudra chuckled, sipping his drink. "Well, I was thinking of paying a visit to this famous Yujiro, maybe see what he's made of."
That earned an instant scoff from Velgrynd. She shook her head. "Bad idea."
Guy nearly choked on his wine, stifling a laugh. "Heh. She's right. Knowing you, Rudra, you'd piss him off within five seconds and we'd have to drag your body out of a crater."
Rudra shrugged with a cocky grin. "Come on, how strong can a guy with no magic really be?"
Velzard turned to her sister, still intrigued. "So, what made you go to him in the first place?"
Velgrynd leaned back, her gaze drifting to the ceiling for a moment, as if replaying those memories.
"At first?" she said softly. "Curiosity. I mean… you and Guy told me he beat you both. No magic. No skills. Just fists. I couldn't believe it. Year after year, his name kept surfacing. Whispers everywhere. Talks in Sarion. Even in the Dragon Kingdom, people called him the 'Demon Without Power.'"
Velzard's expression darkened slightly. "That's what they call him now?"
Velgrynd nodded. "So one day… I went. Told everyone I was just going to visit Milim. She lives with him, you know."
Guy sat up, blinking. "Wait—what? Milim lives with Yujiro?"
"Yeah," Velgrynd said casually. "And she calls him 'uncle' now."
Everyone blinked.
Velzard's jaw tightened. "You're joking."
"Nope," Velgrynd said with a half-smile. "She's not just living with him. He's training her. Training everyone in the Forgotten Dragon Kingdom and they told me that he beat you, guy, milim,draguel,Veldora Luminous, carrion and frey and all of you without no magic. "
Guy leaned forward. "Hold on. Back up. You're saying Yujiro beat you, me, Velzard—but also Luminous, Draguel, Carrion, and Frey? All of them. Without magic?"
"Yes," Velgrynd said seriously, her voice calm and cold. "No magic. No skills. Just his bare hands."
There was a long silence.
Rain whispered, "That's… not even fair…"
Velzard looked stunned. "How—?"
Velgrynd continued, her tone now more somber.
"When I met him, I expected to see some mythical beast. But no… he's just a man. A human. Muscles and bones. No aura. No presence of magic. But when I stood near him, I could feel it—that pressure. He didn't even speak at first. Just looked at me. And then he called me something I didn't like… I won't repeat it here."
Misery smirked, probably imagining what insult could get under Velgrynd's skin.
Velgrynd's eyes narrowed slightly. "So I challenged him. I thought I could humble him. But that day… I was the one who got humbled."
Guy leaned in. "How bad was it?"
Velgrynd looked down at her hands. "He didn't just defeat me. He humiliated me. I didn't stand a chance. I was faster, stronger, more powerful—but he read me. Every move. Every emotion. I couldn't even land a hit."
Her voice cracked for the first time, just a little.
"It was like being stripped of everything. Not just my pride… but my identity. I am a true dragon, one of the strongest. And he beat me like I was a child."
The room fell completely silent.
Velgrynd then raised her gaze again, burning with new purpose. "But… that day changed me. Because I stayed. I asked him to train me. And he did."
Guy leaned back, stunned. "Wait. You? You actually asked someone to train you?"
Velgrynd smiled bitterly. "My pride was already shattered. I had nothing else to lose."
Velzard looked at her sister, something like admiration in her eyes.
"So… what was the training like?" Velzard asked.
Velgrynd exhaled. "Pain. Pain like I've never known. No magic allowed. No regeneration. Not even basic healing spells. Only your body. Your mind. And your will. My muscles ached in places I didn't even know existed. I screamed. Cried. There were days I thought I'd die. But he never let me. And he never praised me either."
Guy nodded slowly, intrigued. "That sounds like him."
"One day," Velgrynd said, "he told all of us—Milim, me—'You all live in an illusion of power. You were born strong. Gifted. But what happens when all of that is taken away? No magic. No energy. No divine skills. What are you then?'"
Velzard whispered, "That's deep…"
"He said, 'Magic is borrowed power. It's not yours. It's given. And it can be taken.' And I realized… he was right."
Velgrynd paused. "We pride ourselves on being powerful. But we've never struggled to earn that power. We didn't crawl through blood or pain to get it. He did. Every day of his life. And now? He's stronger than all of us combined. With no magic. No gifts."
There was a long, thoughtful silence.
"And the scariest part?" Velgrynd continued. "He's not evil. He's not looking to conquer the world. We're lucky he's not our enemy. Because if he was… none of us could stop him."
Guy let out a slow breath, the weight of her words settling deep.
"Damn…" he muttered. "Now I see why you fight like that."
Velzard looked at her sister, eyes glinting with both pride and something else—respect.
"You changed," she said simply.
Velgrynd nodded. "Yujiro didn't just train my body. He reshaped my mind. I learned that control… is true power. Not rage. Not flames. Control. That's how I beat you earlier, Guy. Not because I was stronger. But because I stopped fighting like a dragon… and started fighting like a human."
Rudra sat back, his smile gone, lost in thought.
And for the first time in centuries, the mightiest beings in the world realized—
There was still someone… even above them.
And he didn't need magic to prove it.
The room had grown quiet. The crackle of the fireplace echoed against the polished stone walls of the ancient castle. The dim amber glow danced on the polished marble floors and glinted off goblets, armor, and curious eyes. Rain poured another glass for Velgrynd as Misery handed Rudra a platter of meat skewers.
Velgrynd took a slow sip, eyes narrowing as if the taste of the wine reminded her of an old scar.
"After the first week," she said, her voice steady but carrying the weight of memory, "I couldn't even walk properly. My wings ached. My bones felt like they were about to snap. Yujiro made me carry boulders up mountains… while tied to chains… barefoot."
Velzard blinked. "Chains? That's excessive—even for you."
Guy raised a brow. "Sounds like his idea of fun."
Velgrynd gave a bitter smile. "It wasn't fun. It was war. War against my own pride. I wanted to quit a thousand times, but every time I collapsed, Yujiro would just stand there and say... 'Is that all it takes to break a dragon?'"
Rudra leaned forward, eyes wide. "You didn't blast him?"
"I did. Once," Velgrynd replied. "That's when I learned. He wanted me to lose control. He baited me. And when I did…" She paused and chuckled. It wasn't a happy laugh. "He dodged everything. Everything. Then he knocked me out cold with a single punch to the gut. Not a magical punch. Just… pure muscle. Raw strength."
Velzard frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Even at half power we should be able to flatten any normal human."
"Exactly!" Velgrynd snapped, her voice flaring like a sudden flame. "That's when it hit me. He's not normal. He never was. He doesn't need magic because he trained his body to defy it."
Guy, ever the observer, swirled the wine in his glass, deep in thought. "He beat Luminous… Draguel… even Frey and Carrion? And still chose to remain in the Forgotten Dragon Kingdom?"
Velgrynd nodded. "And Milim calls him 'Uncle' now. She adores him. Trains under him every day. He pushes her harder than anyone ever dared. And you know what? She smiles through it."
Rudra leaned back, arms folded, his expression unreadable. "I wanted to meet him because I thought I could learn something. But now… I don't know if I'd come out the same."
"You wouldn't," Velgrynd said flatly. "None of us do."
Velzard set down her drink. "What changed you the most?"
Velgrynd looked down at her calloused hands—hands that once burned mountains to ash.
"The pain," she said quietly. "Not just physical. Emotional. Every time I trained with him, it was like facing a mirror. He stripped me down to nothing. Took away my pride, my titles, my power, until I was just… Velgrynd. A being who had never worked a day for the power she had. Who thought being born strong was enough."
Guy whispered, "And it's not."
Velgrynd nodded. "He told us, 'You think you're strong, but it's borrowed strength. Magic, skills, evolution—they were given to you. Earn your power, with nothing but your fists, your will, and your body.' And we laughed at him. At first. But now… I understand."
Rudra rubbed his chin. "It's a terrifying philosophy. If everything we rely on is stripped away…"
"Then what are we?" Velzard finished.
Silence fell. Even Misery and Rain stood still, caught in the depth of the moment.
Velgrynd's voice softened. "He said, 'You don't know your limits until you're crawling through the dirt, screaming, and still don't stop. Power isn't what you have. It's what you do when you've got nothing left.'"
Guy tapped his glass against the table. "Damn. That's poetic for a meathead."
Velgrynd actually laughed. "He is a meathead. But he's also more. He's a man who mastered himself, not through shortcuts, but through suffering. And we mock him because we fear that kind of strength. Because it reminds us that we've never truly bled for our power."
Rudra's eyes were intense now. "So… what's the endgame for someone like him? What does he want?"
Velgrynd shrugged. "He never said. He trains. He teaches. He protects the Forgotten Dragon Kingdom. But if he ever decided to rule? To take this world?" She looked up, her expression dark. "None of us could stop him.
Guy leaned back slowly, exhaling through his nose. "We're lucky, then… that he doesn't want to."
Velzard added softly, "And that he sees something worth preserving."
Rudra chuckled nervously. "He'd better not change his mind."
Velgrynd stood, glass in hand, and looked out the arched window into the starlit sky. "That's why I keep going back. Because if there ever comes a day where someone like him does fall… someone needs to be strong enough, pure enough, to stop him. Not with magic. Not with titles. But with earned strength."
She turned around and raised her glass.
"To the pain that shapes us."
Guy clinked his glass against hers. "To the fear that humbles us."
Velzard added, "To the truth that frees us."
Rudra raised his last. "And to the man who reminded dragons how to fight."
They drank in silence.
Outside, the wind howled, cold against the ancient stone. But inside the castle, something warm and powerful stirred—not fire, not magic, but resolve.
A new age was coming.
And this time, the strongest would not be the one born with power…
…but the one who earned it.