Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins

The engine of my superbike roared to life, a deep, resonant hum of runes and mana that was a stark, modern counterpoint to the ancient, winding road we traveled. In front of me, Yumi sat perched on the fuel tank, her small hands clutching the handlebars for support, her snow-white hair whipping in the wind. The world was a blur of green and gold around us, the last vestiges of the Nowa Empire's lush, fertile lands giving way to a harsher, more arid landscape.

For her, this was a vacation, an adventure into the unknown. But for me, it was a mission, a desperate, calculated gamble for my future.

I was going for a thing that could change the very game I was playing. Not a weapon, not a skill, but a blessing. An ancient, primordial power said to reside in the heart of the Dragon's Kingdom, a ritual that could forge a human body into a vessel of steel, a fortress of flesh and bone capable of withstanding the might of a dragon—or, more precisely, a power greater than even the strongest of the ancient drakes.

For that, I was headed to the Dragon's Kingdom of Pyronis, a land of fire, ash, and brutal, uncompromising strength.

It wouldn't be easy. The challenges were numerous, the risks almost insurmountable. First, I needed to hide my own identity and Yumi's. A human and a pure-blood vampire, walking into the heart of a kingdom that valued pure, draconic lineage above all else? We would be seen as curiosities at best, threats at worst.

Second, I had to avoid any and all unnecessary involvement in fights. I couldn't use my powers freely here. The dragons of Pyronis, and the dragon-blooded humanoids who served them, relied on fire, poison, and raw, overwhelming brute force. My own abilities—the subtle, manipulative power of the shadows, the crackling, unpredictable energy of my newly acquired lightning—were a foreign language in this land of primal fury. To reveal them would be to paint a target on my back.

And lastly, the final trial, the one that guarded the blessing I sought: I would have to fight a Bone Dragon, an ancient, skeletal beast whose very bones were said to be forged from the solidified magic of a thousand dead mages. It would be a hell of a lot of work.

Then, as if the universe had decided my plate was not yet full enough, a notification chimed in my mind, its ethereal sound a stark, jarring note in the quiet hum of the bike's engine.

DING!

[System Alert: A new, high-priority quest has been generated.]

[QUEST: Protect Christina]

▸ Description: The subject, Christina, is a critical component of a future timeline. Under no circumstances is she to be harmed. Do not even let her shed a single tear. ▸ Rewards: [The Black Sword of Ruin] - The second strongest sword of my former master, Ashen. Rank: SSS.

▸ Penalty for Failure: Permanent death.

I was so shocked I almost lost control of the bike, the tires skidding for a moment on the loose gravel of the road.

What the hell was that? A simple protection mission with a reward so ludicrously overpowered it felt like something from the final mission of a video game. And the penalty… the penalty was absolute.

No. This couldn't be a simple mission. And who the hell was Christina?

'If it's a mission to protect her,' I thought, my mind racing, 'then I'm sure she was very important to the original Ashen. And that bastard didn't share her memory with me.'

The System had given me the message. It had to know something.

'Hey, System,' I projected into the silent space of my own mind. 'Who is Christina?'

Silence.

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'Where is she?' I pressed, a new, cold knot of anxiety forming in my stomach.

[You will know who she is when you meet her,] the System finally replied, its voice as cryptic and unhelpful as ever. [And you will meet her soon.]

I looked down at Yumi, who was blissfully unaware of the new, terrifying weight that had just been placed on my shoulders. She was pointing at a flock of brightly colored birds, her rose-pink eyes wide with a childish delight. My happy, peaceful time with her, this fragile, stolen vacation, had just been split in two by my own mission and this new, terrifying quest from the System.

I brought the bike to a stop near a small, dusty roadside stall, the last outpost of civilization before the human domain gave way to the vast, unforgiving expanse of the Ashen Desert, the natural border that separated our kingdom from the fiery lands of Pyronis.

I needed an item, a tool to aid in our deception. I searched the stall's meager offerings—a collection of cheap, mass-produced talismans, a few dusty, low-grade potions, and a handful of enchanted trinkets. And then I found it. A simple, silver necklace, its chain thin and delicate, a single, milky-white moonstone resting at its center.

The stall owner, a grizzled, one-eyed man with a face like a roadmap of a long and difficult life, saw my interest. "Ah, the Veil of Whispers," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "A curious little thing. They say it can show the world whatever face you wish it to see."

The necklace, he explained, on the imagination of the wearer, could create a powerful, localized illusion, a glamour that could deceive the eyes of anyone who looked upon it. But it had a drawback. A significant one. The illusion was not physical. If I were to imagine myself with the horns of a dragon, anyone who reached out to touch them would feel nothing but empty space. We would need to maintain our distance, to be careful.

It was a risk. But it was the only one I had.

I bought two.

Your Author here,

If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to drop a power stone or send a small gift if you can! It really helps me stay motivated (and survive on coffee ). If you're broke, don't worry your comments and support mean just as much! More chapters coming soon, so stay tuned!