I Received System to Become Dragonborn

The rift widened with every second, stretching the very air around it like skin pulled too tight. A low hum thrummed through the ground. They felt it more in their bones than in the ears. The adventurers in Darel's party quickly readied their weapons.

The amulets around their necks still shimmered faintly, pulsing with Magic meant to ward off the forest's mist. But this was something else. Something not born of this world.

Just like Darel and Yara warned.

Even so, the sense of danger wasn't shared by all. Some of the adventurers who still emboldened by the false comfort of the enchanted amulets stood tall and relaxed.

One of them was Varn.

With an axe slung over his shoulder and a wide grin splitting his bearded face, he looked like he was walking into a tavern brawl, not staring down another world aberration. His eyes gleamed with anticipation rather than fear.

"About time we saw some real action," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Then it came.

Another pale, gray, clawed hand emerged from the rift, followed by feet with elongated toes and hooked nails that scraped against the ground. The rift tore wider to let the rest of the body through.

And when the creature finally stepped out in full, time seemed to freeze.

It stood nearly three meters tall. Its skin was the color of rotting stone, pale and sickly gray, wrinkled in patches like something that had shed its former shape. Its arms were impossibly long, dangling nearly to its shins, fingers twitching in an unnatural rhythm.

Though it was lean, its body carried a twisted strength. Its head was oval, bald, smooth like a rotted egg left to decay. One single eye sat on its face, too large for its skull, glowing green with a vertical pupil that blinked sideways.

Every adventurer froze.

None of them had seen a creature like this. The bizarre form rooted them in place. A chill crawled down every spine.

Except for Darel.

He stood his ground at the front with sharp eyes and said. "Get ready to fight. But don't attack first. Let's see if the amulets work on it."

The others gave quiet, tense affirmations, but one of them — Varn — bit back a curse.

He tightened his grip on his axe, jaw clenched. "Why wait? Why not strike first and end it?"

The need to fight clawed at him, but he obeyed, lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line.

The creature's eye swept toward them. It tilted its head in a sharp, birdlike motion, as if trying to comprehend what it was seeing.

Darel's teeth pressed together. Beside him, Yara's expression hardened, brows furrowed. The creature didn't feel like anything this forest could create. It didn't feel like it belonged to this world at all.

Then the creature smiled.

Its mouth opened impossibly wide, stretching from one side of its face to the other. Black, jagged, saw-like teeth filled the void inside. The expression wasn't joyous. It was predatory.

"Fuck…" someone whispered behind them.

Murmurs of agreement followed.

Darel glanced at Yara. No words were needed. They both knew that this wouldn't end peacefully.

The creature crouched low, its tendons creaking like breaking rope. Then it lunged, using its long inhuman legs to launch itself forward in a blur of unnatural speed straight toward them.

The blur of gray shot forward. Its claws outstretched, mouth still twisted in that bone-deep grin.

Darel didn't flinch.

In one fast and fluid move he stepped forward and unsheathed his sword. The steel gleamed in the fading light, runes along its length pulsing faintly in response to the creature's presence. He raised it just in time.

The impact came to him immediatetly.

The creature's clawed arm swung downward in a wide arc. Darel caught it with his blade but the force behind it was monstrous. The sheer weight and speed of the attack sent shockwaves through his arms.

His boots scraped backward against the earth, carving deep grooves in the soil as he struggled to stay upright.

He grunted, more from the jolt to his bones than from pain.

The creature loomed over him now, its single eye glinting with eerie delight, mouth still open in that grotesque saw-toothed grin.

It pushed harder, its arm pressing against the sword, trying to force Darel down.

But Darel held his ground. Muscles tensed, feet dug in, he met the pressure with grit.

"It's strong," he barked through clenched teeth. "Really strong!"

The others had barely moved. The speed of the creature's lunge had left them stunned.

"Move!" Yara shouted, snapping them from their daze. "Support him!"

Varn didn't need to be told twice. His grin widened.

"Finally," he muttered, axe already swinging low as he charged.

Varn came in from the side of the creture with a roar and raised his axe high. His boots pounded the earth, body low. He aimed to cleave the creature's body from the side.

The axe swung fast and brutal. But the creature moved faster.

With an unnatural jerk, it twisted its long torso and snapped its arm sideways, the clawed limb intercepting the axe attack. Metal met grey flesh but not as Varn expected. The axe bit into the creature's arm but don't have any effect. The blade sank just an inch before it stopped, as if hitting dense rubbery stone.

The creature was pushed slightly, its dragging a fraction through the dirt, but it didn't fall or stumble. It simply shifted its weight and held.

Varn's eyes widened as his momentum met an immovable wall.

Then the creature chuckled.

It was low at first, barely a sound. But it grew as warbling and gurgling sounds in its throat, like something trying to mimic laughter without knowing how. The sound scraped against their minds, vibrating through bone and marrow.

Darel's breath hitched. Varn felt it in his gut. A primal alarm. A chill spread down both their spines.

Still, Varn gritted his teeth.

"Not gonna be scared of you," he growled under his breath, yanking his axe free with a twist. "You can be hurt. That's enough!"

With a snarl, he stepped in again and brought his axe in a sharp upward swing. This time straight for the creature's neck.

At the same instant, Darel moved.

He shifted beneath the creature's weight and thrust his sword upward, both hands on the hilt. The blade flared, glowing bright with pulsing blue runes, Magic igniting in it.

The steel plunged into the creature's chest, light surging from the wound like a flare erupting beneath skin.

His sword met flesh and his Magic met whatever cursed essence kept this thing walking.

And the creature finally screamed in pain.

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