Limitless Evolution: I’m The New Dragon God?

Suddenly, a sharp commanding female voice rang out from his behind, cutting through the noise of the field.

Ryuzen turned to face her.

Standing a few meters away was a tall woman with short silver hair tied into a tight bun. She wore the Standard combat uniform, but unlike the others, hers was scarred and worn—proof of countless battles.

Her arms were crossed, but her eyes locked onto Ryuzen with a sharpness that made it clear she wasn't playing around.

She was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. Her physique was lean but powerful, and the faint glow around her body hinted at a solid evolver rank. Her authoritive aura pressed down like the weight of a mountain.

"What's wrong? You just gonna stand there and watch while your squad proves themselves?" she asked, stepping forward.

Her tone wasn't mocking—it was challenging, almost daring him to refuse.

Ryuzen met her gaze calmly.

"I didn't see anyone willing to face me. That's all," he replied.

"Well now you have one," she said, stretching her neck with a few audible cracks. "Let's see what kind of metal the Six Commanders chose to forge."

The crowd started shifting their attention toward them. The energy in the training field flared once again.

"She's Sergeant Hira," someone whispered nearby. "Level 27. She's no pushover."

"And she's serious," another muttered. "That rookie's done for."

Ryuzen slowly stepped forward, his expression unreadable. As he entered the makeshift dueling ring, a faint breeze stirred the dust around him. His golden-slit eyes locked onto Hira, calm but alert.

"I accept your challenge," he said simply.

Hira smirked.

"Good. Let's make this fun."

Whoosh!

Hira moved first. In a blur of motion, her fist cut through the air like lightning.

Fast. Inhumanly fast.

In the blink of an eye, her knuckles were already a breath away from smashing into Ryuzen's face.

He was surprised, as anyone would be. But he reacted on instinct. His palm came up and intercepted the blow.

Bam!

The shock of impact rippled outward, distorting the aura around them for a split second. The air shook with the sheer force behind her punch.

And yet, Ryuzen had blocked it. Cleanly. Effortlessly.

A silence fell over the training field.

Hira's eyes narrowed. Her fist still pressed against his open palm, unmoving. She could feel the resistance in his hand, the control in his arm. He hadn't even been pushed back.

The onlookers stared, stunned.

"Did that pretty boy just block Sergeant Hira's punch? That's unbelievable!"

"No way… I admit Hira's not a brawler, but she's level 27 for god's sake. And him? Isn't he just a newbie?"

But the battle had only begun.

Ryuzen stepped forward, forcing Hira to retreat. With a sweep of his leg and a flick of his hand, he disrupted her balance. Then, blow by blow, he showed strength that far exceeded what anyone had expected.

"Wait a minute… this guy isn't normal."

"Yeah. We must've gotten the wrong info. That pretty boy's gotta be a top-tier E-Rank Evolver or something."

"But Sergeant Hira is D-Rank. How's he keeping up?"

"I dunno… but now I get it. The Six Great Commanders saw something real."

The murmurs grew louder.

Then the ground lit up.

Ryuzen's body surged with energy. With a sharp inhale, he unleashed it.

Flames erupted.

A blast of fire shot from his mouth, spiraling into the air before detonating above the field in a fierce explosion of heat and light.

Fire Breath.

Then came a roar of spinning flames around his body as he raised his hand, channeling heat outward like a raging storm.

Firestorm Emission.

The battlefield trembled under the pressure of the flames, scorching winds blasting across the area.

Every soldier in the field turned their attention to him. Even those in the middle of their own duels paused, glancing toward the epicenter of the explosion.

And when they saw Ryuzen in mid-air, flames dancing around him like a living inferno, someone in the crowd shouted:

"Fire Salamander!"

The chant grew louder as the crowd erupted with cheers.

"Fire Salamander!"

"Fire Salamander!"

"Fire Salamander!"

Even Hira, smiled as she stared up at him. She was mostly unharmed because of Wind elemetal Skills which become a perfect counter for fire.

Still, she couldn't deny the power of his flames.

"So that's your element, huh?"

Ryuzen landed smoothly, his crimson-tipped whitw hair fluttering in the heat, golden slit eyes burning with calm intensity.

He didn't need to respond.

The field had already given him the answer.

Irina paused mid-battle, her blade halted just inches from her opponent's throat. Her eyes weren't focused on the duel anymore. They were locked on Ryuzen.

He stood in the distance, flames still flickering around his form, his presence impossible to ignore.

A faint flush colored Irina's porcelain cheeks. Her usually calm expression softened as a quiet spark lit within her eyes.

"He is really strong... I wasn't wrong," she whispered under her breath, her heart beating a little faster than usual.

Meanwhile, Venus caught sight of Ryuzen's overwhelming display. Her hands clenched into fists. Not from jealousy, but from urgency.

She had trained hard. Fought through pain. But now it was clearer than ever—she hadn't reached his level. Not yet.

"Ryu, I can't fall behind you," she murmured, adjusting her stance before launching a renewed flurry of attacks against her opponent, fiercer and more precise than before.

The training field remained alive with the echoes of combat, the clash of fists and powers lighting the twilight hours. The practice duels stretched on for hours, but something had shifted.

The skeptical looks from the Garrison soldiers had faded.

Replaced with nods.

Respectful silence.

Even the occasional words of praise.

The six figures once labeled as unworthy brats were now seen with new eyes. They had proven their strength. And more importantly, they had earned the right to stand on that field.

As the sun dipped beyond the walls of Garrison No. 7, the battles slowed. Laughter began to take the place of combat. Wounds were healed. Jokes exchanged. Rivalries softened into camaraderie.

Later that evening, they gathered near the mess hall. Plates clattered, warm meals were served, and the six sat at the same table.

For the first time since arriving, they weren't just recruits.

They were part of something.

Together, they shared food, exchanged stories, and laughed under the dim lights of the base. The fire of the day's battles still burned within them, but tonight, it warmed them in a different way.

Tomorrow, the true mission would begin.

But tonight, they rested—not as strangers, but as comrades of a battalion.