NOVEL WEB Chapter 107: Level 23.
[ Name: Ryuzen De Manus ]
[ Bloodline: Solarfrost Imperial Dragon (S) ]
[ Age: 6 Years ]
[ Lifespan: 300 years ]
[ Level: 23 ] 4↑
[ Strength: 360 ] ↑80
[ Agility: 359 ] ↑80
[ Vitality: 363 ] ↑80
[ Mana: 3107 ] ↑800
[ Skills: Eclipse Cataclysmic Roar (D), Ice Guardian Armour (D), Solar Cryo Lance (D), Mist Phantom Steps (D), Crimson Apex Frenzy (D), Abyssal Grasp (D), Sun Dragon's Gaze (E), Half Dragonification (E) ]
[ Skill Tree: Manus (D) ]
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The last Hollow collapsed with a sickening thud, its body dissolving into motes of energy before being pulled into Ryu's Fusion Lab. His claws dripped with dark ichor, his breath steaming in the cold air.
The familiar chime echoed in his mind.
[ Level Up! 22 → 23 ]
His power surged again, muscles coiling tighter, mana burning hotter in his core. He could feel it—D-Rank was now within his reach. And yet, his current stats already eclipsed many who had been at that rank for years.
As the adrenaline began to fade, he realized the first hints of dawn were bleeding into the horizon. The dark blue of the night sky was giving way to pale gold.
With a low exhale, he let the Dragonification melt away. The scales retreated, claws retracting into human hands. His wings dissolved into shimmering particles, leaving him in his humanoid form, though the faint golden glow in his eyes lingered.
He turned to head back toward camp.
But then—a shadow shifted ahead.
A figure stepped into the narrow path, blocking his way.
Ryu stopped, his gaze sharpening.
"Luthor...?"
Luthor's expression was grim, his eyes searching Ryu's face like he was looking at something he no longer recognized. The faint smell of blood and scorched flesh clung to the air between them.
"Why are you here, Captain?" Ryu asked, voice steady, though his golden eyes glinted with a quiet warning.
"Tch. You're asking me why I'm here?" Luthor snarled, stepping forward. The moonlight caught on the steel of his greatsword, its edge still nicked from past battles. "Tell me, am I supposed to believe what I saw was real? Are you truly one of the Dragon Spawn? And how in the hells did you end up wearing a human face?"
The tip of the greatsword leveled at Ryu's chest, unwavering.
Ryu's stance didn't shift, his breathing calm. He met Luthor's glare without the faintest trace of guilt.
"You already saw it," Ryu said at last, exhaling a slow sigh. "So why still ask? Yes… I am Dragonborne. Are you going to run to the authorities now? If so, I suppose that means I won't be able to return to the team. Is that what you want?"
"Shut up!" Luthor roared, his face flushing with rage. His grip on the greatsword tightened until the leather creaked. "You dragonkind are no better than the Hollows. Your kind enslaved us, slaughtered us, burned cities to the ground. And now the Hollows do the same. Both of you treat our world like a game board while innocent humans are crushed between you."
His voice was almost shaking, but not with fear—only with deep, simmering hatred.
"This is not your world. You shouldn't even be here!"
And with that, Luthor surged forward, greatsword raised high. The morning light caught its blade as it came down in a deadly arc, the sheer force cracking the ground beneath his step.
"Die! I don't care if there's one less member in the party. I want you dead!"
Swishhh..
The greatsword's arc split the air with a howl, its edge wrapped in the faint shimmer of sword aura. Luthor was no amateur—his strike had enough force to cleave through an armored Hollow in a single blow.
However, Ryu didn't even flinch.
As the blade came down, he stepped forward into the swing, one scaled forearm snapping up to catch the weapon's flat in mid-strike. The impact rang like a bell, a shockwave scattering dust and leaves around them.
Luthor's eyes widened.
"You… stopped it?!"
Before he could recover, Ryu twisted his wrist, shoving the greatsword aside like it was nothing more than a wooden stick. Luthor stumbled, boots grinding against the dirt.
"Your swings are heavy," Ryu said, stepping closer, "but to me, they're slow."
Luthor gritted his teeth and shifted his stance. His sword flared with skill energy.
[Greatsword Skill – Iron Fang Breaker!]
The weapon came in from the side, this time with enough momentum to crack stone. Ryu leaned just enough to let the tip miss, then drove his knee into Luthor's gut. The air whooshed out of the man's lungs, and he staggered back, coughing.
But he didn't stop.
[Greatsword Skill – Crescent Cleave!]
The blade swept upward in a bright arc, aiming to split Ryu from hip to shoulder.
Ryu caught the strike mid-swing—this time with his bare hand. His grip locked around the blade, fingers denting the steel. Sparks spat as the greatsword's aura fought against his raw strength… and lost.
"You've got skills, Luthor," Ryu said, golden eyes narrowing, "but no amount of skill will bridge the gap in strength."
With a flick of his arm, he ripped the sword from Luthor's hands and tossed it aside. It landed with a heavy clang several meters away.
Before Luthor could react, Ryu's hand clamped around his shoulder.
Bam!
In the next instant, Luthor was slammed into the ground hard enough to crater it, the dirt erupting in a plume.
Pinned, his breath ragged, Luthor glared up at him, still burning with defiance.
Ryu leaned down and spoke domineeringly,
"If I wanted you dead, Captain, you wouldn't have lasted a second. Remember that before you point your blade at me again."
He released his grip and stepped back. His gaze was merciless as Luthor struggled to rise.
Somehow he staggered to his feet, dirt and dust clinging to his clothes, his face pale with a mix of rage and humiliation. He didn't say a word. Didn't even glance back at Ryu.
He simply turned, his boots crunching against the ground as he strode toward the camp.
Ryu's eyes followed him, the tension in his chest coiling tighter with each step Luthor took. The conclusion was obvious—Luthor was going to tell the others.
If that happened, his identity would spread like wildfire. His new home would be gone. And Venus... She might leave him as well. He'd be branded a threat, hunted, and driven into exile. The thought twisted into a cold knot in his gut.
He exhaled slowly, the golden light in his eyes sharpening to a predator's focus.
'I can't let that happen.'
His claws slid out with a faint metallic scrape, the golden scales along his forearms catching the dim morning light. His heartbeat steadied as he locked his gaze on Luthor's unguarded back.
'I'll end it here.'
Every instinct told him it was the crueler path, but also the only way to protect himself. He had already steeled his heart for it. His muscles tensed—one leap, one strike, and it would be over.
But just as he stepped forward—
"Buzzz!"
The space around them suddenly rippled.
Who could it be interfering this time?