The desert sun beat down with relentless intensity, casting harsh light over the red cliffs and ancient stone markers that littered the vast wasteland.
High above, a golden shimmer streaked across the sky.
Draguel, the giant descended like a comet of divinity, gracefully as he slowed his descent. Behind him Yujiro Hanma, arms folded, a relaxed smirk plastered on his face, hair swept by the wind like a lion's mane.
Below them loomed the edge of a city carved into stone—The City of the Forgotten Dragon.
They landed with a soft boom just outside the arched entrance, guarded by towering dragonewt sentinels in obsidian armor. Spears lowered instantly, crossed in a swift X-formation before the newcomers.
One guard narrowed his reptilian eyes.
"Draguel-sama. You honor us with your presence—but… we weren't informed you were coming. Lady Milim gave us no notice."
The second guard peered past Draguel and caught sight of Yujiro. His fingers tensed instinctively on his spear.
"…And who is that?"
Yujiro's boots crunched softly in the sand as he stepped forward, hands casually tucked into his pockets. His walk oozed confidence—not arrogance, but something deeper. Unshakable. A living storm in the shape of a man. He stopped just short of the guards and tilted his head, that ever-so-slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Draguel chuckled, placing a hand lightly on one of the spears.
"Relax. This isn't a threat—it's a surprise. One that Milim will very much enjoy."
The guards exchanged glances.
"…Very well. Please follow us."
The stone doors parted with a deep rumble, revealing the heart of Milim's city.
Inside, everything bustled with life and motion. Dragonewts worked side-by-side in harmony—some carrying crates of harvested crops, others sparring in open courts, their claws glinting in the sunlight. The scent of fire-roasted meats and sweet spices drifted through the air, carried by a breeze that hinted at magic.
But as Yujiro Hanma walked through the gates, the noise didn't die. It warped. Twisted.
Eyes followed him. Heads turned.
Who was this stranger walking like he owned the mountain? Who was this man whose presence made the air feel heavier, the shadows seem longer?
No one knew his name.
Not even Middray, who stood at the Central Temple, overseeing the distribution of grain and speaking with the high priests.
He saw the small procession from afar and frowned.
"Draguel?" he muttered. "And… someone else?"
As they approached, Draguel nodded to Middray, who descended the temple steps with measured grace. His face held the calm of someone used to control—but his instincts screamed caution the moment he laid eyes on Yujiro.
The man stood there like a statue chiseled from arrogance and war. The way he scanned the city, expression unreadable, hands still in his pockets, made even the priest warriors bristle.
Middray gave a respectful nod to Draguel.
"An unexpected visit. Is something wrong?"
"Not at all," Draguel said smoothly. "I came bearing a gift."
He turned slightly, gesturing to Yujiro. "This is Yujiro Hanma. Consider this… a surprise visit from someone unlike anything this city has ever known."
Yujiro's smirk grew.
Middray's eyes narrowed. "I've never heard of him."
"You will," Yujiro replied, voice calm and low. "Trust me."
Middray turned to Draguel. "Does Lady Milim… know he's coming?"
"No," Draguel answered. "But she'll want to. Where is she?"
Middray hesitated only a second. "She's training in the upper arena. I'll take you there."
As the three of them moved deeper into the city, the air shifted.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"He's not one of us."
"Look at how he walks… like he's above us."
"Is he a demon lord?"
"No... he doesn't feel like one. But… he feels worse."
Yujiro ignored them all.
Not a flinch. Not a glance.
He walked as if the world were beneath him, as if the buildings were nothing more than decorations on a stage crafted for his amusement. The dragonewts felt it in their bones—not magic, not intimidation—but presence. The presence of a man who could destroy everything around him… but didn't need to prove it.
Draguel was amused. He watched the city ripple around Yujiro like a stone dropped into still water.
And Middray?
He remained silent, but his hands were clenched behind his back. Not in fear.
In anticipation.
They reached the gates of the arena—an open-air coliseum carved into the side of the mountain. Roars echoed from within, along with shockwaves of raw force. Milim was inside, training alone.
As the guards opened the way, Draguel turned to Yujiro.
"She doesn't know you. But don't hold back. Milim hates boring introductions."
Yujiro cracked his neck.
"Oh, I wasn't planning to."
Milim Nava, the Dragonoid Demon Lord, threw a powerful punch into the air—her energy causing a burst of shockwaves that cracked the arena floor beneath her.
"Hyaaah!" she shouted, spinning and blasting a nearby boulder into dust with a single kick.
Sweat gleamed on her forehead, but her expression was full of excitement—not exhaustion.
She was training alone again. There weren't many people in the world who could go all out with her. Even Middray, her loyal subordinate, couldn't handle her serious punches. It was always the same: train, get bored, look for someone to fight, repeat.
But suddenly—
Her fist froze mid-air.
She felt it.
An energy.
No—a presence.
It wasn't just anyone. It was Draguel.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Wait… Draguel?" she mumbled, looking toward the main gate of the arena.
She blinked twice, then smiled mischievously.
"Hey! Draguel!" she shouted, waving her arm. "Did you come to spar with me today?"
She sounded excited—like a kid who just found a new toy.
Draguel, walking casually across the cracked arena floor. Behind him, a man followed with quiet steps, hands in his pockets, expression calm but sharp—like a predator surrounded by prey who hadn't realized it yet.
Draguel chuckled. "Not today, Milim. I didn't come to fight."
Milim tilted her head. "Oh? That's no fun…"
He smiled. "I brought something better."
He turned slightly and gestured toward the man beside him.
"Let me introduce you. This is—Yujiro Hanma."
Milim raised an eyebrow. She looked Yujiro up and down with mild curiosity.
He didn't look like much.
No fancy armor. No glowing magic. No monstrous aura.
Just a simple shirt stretched over muscles that looked sculpted from living steel. His red hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and his posture was so casual it was almost insulting.
Still… something about him didn't sit right.
Milim narrowed her eyes.
Her pupils changed shape as she activated Milim Eye, her special analysis ability that could see through power levels, magic types, and even unique skills.
She focused hard.
…
Nothing.
No aura. No energy. No skill reading.
Her pupils returned to normal as she stepped forward, hand on her chin, walking in slow circles around Yujiro, examining him like a scientist studying a newly discovered beast.
"You look strong…" she said with a sly smile. "But I don't feel any magic or aura coming from you. That's weird. Are you hiding your power or something?"
Yujiro didn't blink. He didn't react. He just smiled.
That famous smirk.
And then he spoke in a calm, smooth voice:
"Magic and skills are for cowards."
The arena went quiet.
Middray's eyes widened slightly. He stepped forward, unsure whether to speak.
Milim blinked once, then let out a loud laugh.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Who is this guy?" she said, gripping her stomach. "You're funny. Very bold, too."
Then her expression became a little more serious. Just a little.
"You do realize who you're talking to, right?" she said, placing one hand on her hip. "I'm Milim Nava. One of the oldest Demon Lords. The strongest dragonoid in the world."
Yujiro stepped forward—slowly, with that same confidence—like nothing she said mattered. He looked her directly in the eyes.
"It won't matter…" he said in a low voice, "…once you know who I am."
Milim paused. Her heart skipped a beat.
She wasn't scared.
No.
She was excited.
That deep, primal instinct that lived in her blood—the desire to fight something that truly challenged her—it began to rise.
Her eyes sparkled.
"…So you want to fight?" she asked.
Yujiro gave a half-shrug, as if he were bored of waiting.
"I thought you'd never ask."
Draguel smiled and took a step back.
"Be careful," he whispered to Middray. "This won't be normal."
Middray frowned and moved beside him, but his gaze never left Yujiro.
The two warriors—Draguel and Middray—retreated to the edge of the arena, leaving Milim and Yujiro alone at its center.
A wide circle of cracked stone, stained from countless battles—but none like the one about to unfold.
Milim raised her fists.
"Alright, Yujiro. Show me what you've got! And I won't hol—"
She didn't finish.
In an instant…
Yujiro vanished.
No flash. No blur. No sound.
Just—gone.
Milim's eyes widened. Her body tensed. She had faced beings who could cross countries in seconds. She had seen dimensional jumps, warp-speed teleportation, space manipulation.
But this was different.
This was raw speed. Physical. Perfect. Human—but in the scariest way.
Draguel's eyes sharpened.
"…Even I didn't see it," he muttered.
Middray's mouth opened slightly.
"Where—?"
Then—
CRACK.
A single motion.
Yujiro appeared behind Milim, his hand coming down in a brutal chop to the side of her neck.
It didn't look flashy.
It didn't glow.
But the sound was terrifying. Like bone meeting thunder.
Milim's body seized for a moment.
Her knees bent slightly, arms half-raised—but frozen.
Her mind raced.
What?
What was that?
I didn't see him move.
I didn't feel the hit until after it landed.
Her heart pounded.
She gritted her teeth and stepped back with a grunt, rolling her shoulders.
Her eyes locked on Yujiro now—serious, focused, hungry.
"You…" she said slowly, rubbing the side of her neck. "You actually hit me."
Yujiro just stood there.
Smirking.
Hands in his pockets.