The onlookers watched the golden-haired old man, the very source of the suffocating pressure. Most among them had no idea who he was, but a rare few—those not from the Bestial Town but from higher-tier cities—recognized him immediately. Whispers of legends surrounded this golden-haired elder.
This man was more than just a figure of power—he was the pillar of the Ignis Clan. His mere existence was the reason the clan still commanded respect in the vast Soran Empire. He was known as the Raging Emperor.
Rumors spoke of his fierce love for one particular grandson—an affection so overwhelming that he pampered and protected him beyond reason. That grandson was none other than Leo Ignis.
Anyone with knowledge of the Ignis Clan understood this truth. No one dared to lay a finger on Leo, let alone harm him. But Drake was not one of them. And even if he had known, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. He would have still cleaved Leo’s head without a shred of hesitation.
What he didn’t expect, however, was that Leo carried a talisman capable of channeling the old man’s might. Drake had overlooked a crucial fact—young masters from powerful clans often bore protective artifacts left by their elders. And now, it had led to this.
"Now... it’s time to take care of you, old man." A cold smile crept across his lips as his eyes locked onto the golden-haired elder with an unflinching, unyielding glare.
"Draconic Art: Dragonoid Summoning!"
The lingering fragments of Originat, still coalescing after the last devastating clash, were suddenly sucked toward Drake. A massive rune carved itself into the earth beneath him, its script foreign to most—but unmistakably draconic to those who could feel its pulse.
As the rune shimmered with ancient power, Drake let a drop of his blood fall onto it. The moment it touched, a thunderous Draconic roar exploded across the battlefield, reverberating like a divine proclamation. Every soul heard it.
At first, the crowd questioned whether they had imagined it—until the impossible happened.
The rune ascended into the sky, glowing brighter and brighter until an ancient grey door emerged from the void. Etched with the forms of dragons, it emanated a timeless power. Just one look at it and the crowd felt assured—Drake and his companions were undeniably linked to dragons.
The door pulsed, emitting an ancient aura that hinted at origins stretching back to the very beginning of the universe. It slowly creaked open, and the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from within.
When Drake saw the figure that emerged, his expression twisted. He felt like collapsing.
It was a black-haired young man, pale and sickly in appearance. That wasn’t the worst part—he radiated no intimidating presence, only an overwhelming aura of laziness. The moment the young man saw the vast crowd before him, he quickly shielded his face in embarrassment, shrinking back like a child caught skipping lessons.
Drake could barely hold himself together. If there was ever a moment to curse Brother Bad Luck, it was now—of all possible outcomes, this had to be it.
The ancient door sealed behind the young man, fading from existence as the battlefield fell into an uneasy silence. All eyes locked on the fragile newcomer.
The murmurs began immediately.
"Is that young man supposed to be a dragon?"
"He sure doesn’t look like one..."
"Yeah... no aura, no dominance. Dragons are supposed to command presence."
"But that door—there’s no mistaking it. If he’s not a dragon, then what is he?"
"Whatever he is, I just want to know if these four are connected to that Dragon Roar we heard a year ago..."
"We can’t be sure yet."
Still, no one took their eyes off Drake and his companions. Not now. Not after this.
As for the golden-haired old man, his gaze lingered on the sickly-looking young man with surprise. Though the youth appeared feeble, the Draconic aura that had surged from the ancient door was unmistakably real—yet the young man said nothing, his expression unreadable.
"Uh... where am I? Excuse me, what am I doing here?" the sickly youth asked timidly, turning toward Drake with wide, uncertain eyes.
Drake clenched his jaw in frustration. Just my luck, he thought bitterly.
"I summoned you. Aren’t you a Dragonoid?" he asked in a low, exasperated voice.
"Yes, I am a Dragonoid," the young man replied weakly.
Drake could only shake his head. It seems I’ll still have to rely on myself...
The golden-haired old man mirrored Drake’s reaction, clearly unimpressed. But neither of them noticed the sudden flicker that passed through the young man’s eyes.
"...So this is why I appeared here," the youth muttered to himself, his tone subtly shifting. "There’s no need to pretend anymore. No wonder the timeline feels off."
Drake blinked, confused. Timeline? But before he could speak, a tremendous shift in aura erupted from the young man—a wave of domineering Draconic power rolling off him like a storm.
"So, who do you want me to fight?" the young man asked casually, his voice no longer meek.
Still stunned, Drake pointed instinctively toward the golden-haired old man.
"Him, hmm..." the young man turned his gaze. "If this were my heyday, he’d be nothing more than a breeze. But even restricted ... he’s still a breeze."
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
The youth straightened his back. The timid demeanor vanished. With a single step forward, the air around him warped.
His black hair shimmered, transforming into radiant strands of five elemental colors. His eyes turned Draconic, glowing with multicolored fire. Five-colored scales slowly coated his skin, each step he took leaving behind ripples of prismatic energy.
Then it struck—the pressure.
A colossal, suffocating presence descended upon the battlefield, far surpassing anything the golden-haired old man had released. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and yet... restrained. Only Drake and his allies remained unaffected, their Draconic lineage shielding them from the crushing force.
"Dragon Emperor," the youth said, his voice calm but echoing with authority. "One word of advice—never judge a book by its cover."
"Use your appraisal skill. Quickly!" Drax’s voice echoed in Drake’s mind.
Name of Summoned Dragonoid: Quin
Cultivation: ???? (Restricted to peak Origin Ancestor Realm)
A human who inherited the four attributes of the Five Element Dragon: the power to wield the five elements, the breath of the dragon, the strength of the dragon, and the scales of the dragon. Recognized as one of the strongest Dragonoids—said to rival even the true dragons.
As Drake read the information, a cold shiver ran down his spine.
He realized, with dawning dread, that he might have just summoned something far beyond what he could control.