After days of endless flight, I finally allowed myself to stop.
The mountains below were jagged and lifeless, their peaks hidden beneath storms of black snow and violet mist. Perfect. Somewhere forgotten. Somewhere no one would look.
My body moved on instinct alone as I descended toward a cave carved deep into the mountainside. Ever since that cursed city revealed the truth to me, my thoughts had been spiraling endlessly.
Dragonoid.
Even now, the word felt unreal.
The moment the gate scanned me and exposed what I truly was, everything changed. My body. My instincts. My magic. Even my thoughts felt heavier now, sharper somehow, as though something ancient had finally awakened inside me.
I just needed rest.
A single moment of silence.
A single moment where nobody hunted me.
I stepped deeper into the cave before finally collapsing against the cold stone wall. My wings wrapped loosely around my body on instinct while exhaustion swallowed me whole.
And for the first time in weeks…
I slept.
Or at least, I thought I did.
Because when my eyes opened again…
I wasn't in the cave anymore.
Cold damp air filled my lungs.
Chains rattled softly nearby.
Stone walls surrounded me.
A prison cell.
The realization hit instantly.
My body tried to move, but agony exploded through every nerve before I could even sit up fully. It wasn't ordinary pain. It felt like something was clawing through my veins, ripping apart my insides and stitching them back together repeatedly.
"Oi," a gravelly voice sneered from beyond the bars, "looks like the flying pest finally woke up."
Slowly, I raised my head.
An old man stood outside the cell.
Everything about him screamed danger.
Long gray hair draped over ancient black robes lined with strange symbols. His eyes were narrow and intelligent, carrying the weight of centuries of cruelty. Even standing still, he radiated the aura of someone who had sacrificed entire civilizations without hesitation.
"You'll help me destroy the nation that worships your kind," he said calmly. "But first… we'll awaken your third eye."
From inside his robes, he pulled out an ancient scroll bound in black thread.
I glared at him through the pain.
"Who says I'm helping you do anything?"
The old man ignored the question entirely.
He tossed the scroll into the cell.
The instant it touched the floor—
Pain detonated inside me.
I collapsed instantly, screaming despite myself.
It felt like hooks were tearing through my soul.
Magic surged violently beneath my skin while my vision blurred purple and black. My wings spasmed uncontrollably behind me as blood poured from my mouth.
The old man simply watched.
Satisfied.
"You'll suffer until you awaken," he said calmly. "Only then will you understand your purpose."
Then he sat down outside the cell and closed his eyes in meditation as though my suffering were background noise.
I hated him instantly.
Moments later, footsteps echoed through the chamber.
Two more figures entered.
One was a tall man with silver hair and hollow yellow eyes. His smile carried the kind of cruelty that only came from someone who genuinely enjoyed pain.
The other…
A young woman.
Long crimson hair tied into intricate buns rested over a flowing black-and-red dress marked with the symbol of a phoenix. The moment her eyes landed on me, pure killing intent flooded the room.
Disgust.
Hatred.
She looked at me like I was filth.
The three exchanged a few quiet words before eventually leaving me alone again.
Then the real nightmare began.
Days blurred together.
The pain never stopped.
Every second felt like my body was being peeled apart layer by layer. Sleep became impossible. Food barely mattered. Even breathing hurt.
Sometimes I screamed until my throat bled.
Sometimes I just laughed because I genuinely thought I'd finally lost my mind.
To stay sane, I forced myself to focus on pointless things.
Time.
Numbers.
The structure of this world.
Eighteen-hour days.
Nine-day weeks.
Twenty-seven-day months.
By my estimate…
Two hundred eighty-three days passed.
Two hundred eighty-three days trapped in hell.
And the pain only got worse.
Eventually, desperation won.
My shaking hand reached for the scroll.
The moment my fingers touched it, glowing symbols spread across the parchment. Despite never seeing the language before, I understood every word perfectly.
The god factor.
It translated everything instinctively.
The scroll detailed a cultivation method meant to awaken the third eye and unlock deeper access to divine abilities.
The old man's voice echoed quietly nearby.
"So," he murmured without opening his eyes, "you truly aren't from this world."
I didn't answer.
But I obeyed.
Because I needed strength.
Hatred alone wouldn't save me anymore.
I retreated into the corner of the cell and began meditating exactly as the scroll instructed. The process felt strangely natural, as though my body already knew how to cultivate long before my mind caught up.
Magic flowed differently here.
Not like ordinary mana.
Denser.
Older.
Something ancient stirred inside me every time I breathed it in.
Two weeks later, everything changed.
My power returned.
No…
It evolved.
The magic inside me became heavier and more refined. My senses sharpened. My instincts screamed warnings constantly. Even the darkness around me felt alive now, bending subtly toward my will.
I tried hiding it.
The old man noticed instantly.
"Don't even think about it," he warned calmly while opening the cell. "You still couldn't kill me even if you tried."
I hated the fact he was probably right.
Slowly, I followed him through massive underground hallways lined with ancient carvings and dragon skeletons embedded into the walls.
As we walked, I caught my reflection in a puddle.
I barely recognized myself.
My light-brown skin was covered in dirt and scars. My dark purple hair now stretched far down my back, tangled and wild. My eyes glowed faintly even in darkness.
And wrapped around my wrist…
That cursed bracelet.
The seal suppressing my abilities.
I clenched my fist tightly.
One day, I'd rip it off myself.
One day, I'd kill every single one of them.
The old man eventually led me into a massive chamber.
Nine disciples knelt silently before a throne-like platform.
Every single one radiated monstrous energy.
Killers.
Torturers.
Monsters pretending to be humans.
The moment I entered, all nine stood simultaneously with eerie precision.
Not a single wasted movement.
Not a single emotion.
I stared back at them with pure disgust.
Their screams echoed through these walls every night.
Their victims' screams too.
They weren't warriors.
They were heathens.
And one day…
I would destroy this entire place.
But not yet.
For now, I lowered my head slightly and played the obedient prisoner.
Because vengeance required patience.
And when the time finally came…
I wouldn't escape this prison as prey.
I would leave it as extinction itself.