Chapter 19: Lesser Dragon?
"What's this little shit?" Fero mused, bending down and poking it to inspect the small creature lying in the dirt of the forest floor.
Upon closer inspection, Fero discovered that the creature was no ordinary forest denizen—it was a small dragon, its scales a dark, matte black that seemed to absorb the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Its ears twitched in response to Fero's presence, lending it an endearingly curious appearance.
Undeterred by the creature's potentially fearsome reputation, Fero continued to investigate, gently prodding it with his fingertip. To his surprise, the baby dragon reacted with unexpected playfulness, dropping onto its back and emitting a sound similar to laughter.
Fero's eyes widened in surprise as he regarded the tiny dragon before him, his lips curling into a bemused smirk. "System," he called out, his voice laced with both amusement and curiosity, "what's this cute fuck? It looks like a dragon."
Expectantly, Fero awaited a response, his gaze flickering between the enigmatic creature and the surrounding forest. Yet, to his frustration, there was only silence—a void where he had anticipated the comforting presence of the system.
"Yo, system!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a hint of impatience. "Shit, did that bitch really die that time?"
In the quietude of the forest, a disembodied voice echoed within Fero's mind, cutting through the stillness like a blade. "[Of course not, you're not capable of even hurting me]," the system's voice resounded, its tone carrying an air of unflappable confidence.
"Tsk," Fero clicked his tongue in annoyance, his impatience growing palpable. "Then show yourself."
In response to his demand, a vibrant green screen materialized before him, hovering in the air like an otherworldly apparition. On its luminescent surface danced a cascade of data, illuminating every detail about the mysterious creature lying at Fero's feet.
Name: /
Species: Lesser Dragon
Potential: F rank
Age: 43
Level: 2
- Strength: F-
- Magic: F-
- Charm: F
- Dexterity: F-
- Luck: F
"Shitty dragon is older than my dad was, yet so fucking weak. What the hell," he muttered under his breath, a mixture of disappointment and frustration tainting his words. With a dismissive shake of his head, Fero turned away from both the screen and the dragon, striding purposefully toward a nearby boulder.
Seating himself upon the weathered stone, Fero assumed a posture of meditation, his legs crossed beneath him as he sought to quiet the tumultuous thoughts swirling within his mind. Days passed in silence, the forest enveloping him in a serene embrace as he delved deep into the recesses of his consciousness.
Night descended upon the forest, its ebony cloak shrouding the landscape in darkness, yet still Fero remained motionless upon his rocky perch. Hours turned into Days, the passage of time marked only by the rhythmic cadence of Fero's breathing as he remained steadfast in his discipline.
Finally, Fero's eyelids fluttered open, the world around him gradually coming back into focus. As he shifted slightly, a soft rustling drew his attention downward, and he beheld the sight of the little dragon nestled comfortably against his thigh, its gentle breathing a testament to the bond that had formed between them during his extended meditation.
Fero grabbed the dragon's head, raising it up to his level, anticipating a panicked reaction and an attempt to flee.
Instead, the dragon merely tilted its head cutely, a subtle smile playing on its lips as its eyes glittered.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Fero tossed the baby dragon onto the soft forest floor before rising to his feet. As he stretched, he remarked, "Looks like little bro's missing a few survival instincts."
Turning his gaze toward the vast expanse of the sky, Fero contemplated the state of affairs in the Sambo kingdom. "The situation in the Sambo kingdom probably calmed down," he thought to himself, a sense of anticipation building within him. "Let's go back there."
With a sudden burst of energy, Fero launched himself into the air, his powerful magic propelling him skyward with effortless grace. As he soared above the treetops, the wind rushing past his ears, Fero set his course toward the distant horizon where the Sambo kingdom awaited.
As Fero soared through the skies towards the Sambo kingdom, he suddenly felt a peculiar sensation—a gradual loosening around his waist. Turning his head to investigate, he was met with the unexpected sight of his pants slipping down. Before he could react, he noticed the little dragon clinging to his back pockets, its face alight with happiness and innocence.
"What the fuck, man!" Fero's voice rang out amidst the rushing wind, his scream barely audible over the deafening roar of the air pressure from their rapid flight. Acting swiftly, he reached back and grabbed the dragon, forcefully detaching it from his pants and tossing it into the storage space within the system.
With the distraction dealt with, Fero pulled his pants back up and resumed his flight, hurtling through the skies at supersonic speeds. Minutes stretched as the landscape blurred beneath him, until finally, the colossal silhouette of the Sambo kingdom came into view on the horizon.
Deciding to approach discreetly, Fero descended rapidly, aiming for a secluded area within the city where the immigrant 'accident' had occurred. With precision, he landed amidst the quiet tranquility of a farm site, his arrival masked by the bustling activity of the agricultural workers around him.
As Fero traversed the bustling streets of the Sambo kingdom, he found himself immersed in a scene straight out of medieval lore. The architecture bore the unmistakable marks of a bygone era, with armory shops, blacksmiths, and magic stores lining the cobblestone thoroughfares. However, amidst the quaint charm of the city, a more unsettling reality emerged—slavery, evidently accepted and normalized, as evidenced by the presence of numerous slave markets.
Despite the distractions of the city, Fero's initial sense of intrigue soon gave way to boredom as he aimlessly wandered the crowded streets. Seeking guidance, he halted a passing couple, his curiosity driving him to inquire about the location of the Sambo Academy.
"Yo, where is the Sambo Academy?" he queried, his tone casual.
The couple exchanged a glance before turning their attention to Fero. "Do you wish to know the direction to the Sambo Academy?" the man replied, his voice polite yet tinged with curiosity.
"Yes," Fero confirmed.
"Ah, understood," the man responded, his hand coming to rest on Fero's shoulder as he gestured toward the crest of a nearby hill. "There it is. It will be a long journey on foot. I recommend renting a carriage or perhaps acquiring a flying creature for swifter travel."
With a fixed stare at the distant building perched atop the hill, Fero turned away without so much as a nod of acknowledgement or a word of thanks. His steps were deliberate as he walked away, leaving the couple behind to exchange glances laden with disdain, their displeasure evident in the way they eyed his retreating form.
"How rude," remarked the woman, her voice carrying a tone of disapproval as they continued their stroll.
Entering a desolate alleyway, where there were only homeless people, Fero wasted no time. With a swift leap, he propelled himself upward with remarkable agility, soaring through the air at astonishing speeds toward his destination: the School.
In a matter of moments, what would have been a grueling journey spanning days for an ordinary traveler was reduced to a mere minute for Fero.
The enormity of the world stretched far beyond Fero's initial comprehension. Every journey, regardless of the distance, demanded days of travel at the pace of an ordinary human. Even a mere shift between cities required days, even with the cars in Fero's previous world.
With a graceful landing, Fero found himself standing before the towering metal gates that guarded the entrance to a colossal academy, far larger than The Ancestor described.
"Wow, what the fuck? Didn't that old man say this academy is small and runt down," he muttered to himself, his incredulity evident in the furrow of his brow. Glancing back at the sprawling cityscape that formed part of the Sambo kingdom, "Well, he also said the kingdom is small, so in a couple of hundred years, so much has changed huh..."
Lost in contemplation, Fero was jolted back to reality by a tap on his shoulder. Slowly turning around, he found himself face to face with a shining guard knight, his helmet adorned with intricate dots. "Sir, please state your purpose for being here," came the firm voice
"I'm here to register into the academy,"
"Ah, please follow me then," the knight replied, his armor clinking with each movement as he turned to lead the way...
Weekly Power Status
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