The Ice Continent was still, cold winds brushing through the white plains under a pale sky. At the heart of the floating fortress carved from eternal glaciers, Guy Crimson, the Demon King of Pride, stood on the balcony of his palace. A glass of crimson wine swirled gently in his fingers as he stared out into the snowstorm, his red eyes thoughtful.
He had felt it.
A ripple in time.
A sudden shift.
"Huh…?" he murmured to himself, lifting his head. "That was… Time Stop?"
Only a few beings in the world could use such a divine-level technique. Velzard was one of them. And she had just activated it in the Jura Forest.
He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.
"Using that against Veldora?" he chuckled softly. "Looks like she's getting serious with the training. Maybe she got tired of him slacking off all the time."
He sipped his wine, savoring the rich taste, and leaned back against the marble railing. The wind howled around him, but his mind had already moved on. A flicker of interest passed through his eyes—but he didn't act on it.
Meanwhile, back in the Jura Forest…
The air had stilled.
The battleground was silent.
Frost and shattered stone were scattered all around.
And there, Velzard, the White Ice Dragon, one of the oldest and most feared beings in the world, lay on the cold earth—her body bruised, her pride shattered.
She didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
She just… lay there.
How?
How was it possible?
No skills. No magic. Not even an aura of pressure. Just raw strength.
That human—if he even was a human—had moved in stopped time, countered her strongest techniques, and floored her with a single gut-wrenching punch.
Her chest ached, her stomach throbbed, and her mind reeled.
Nothing made sense.
Then, slowly, footsteps crunched through the frost behind her.
"Sis… Sister… are you okay?"
It was Veldora, his voice hesitant. Concerned.
She didn't answer him. Didn't look at him.
She just rose silently, ignoring the pain screaming in her body. With slow, heavy steps, she ascended into the sky—leaving behind the forest, her failure, and the humiliation.
The winds howled louder in the Ice Continent as Velzard descended onto the palace's balcony. Her usually radiant silver-blue hair was disheveled, and her pristine armor cracked in places. She didn't make eye contact with Guy.
Guy turned to greet her, amused.
"Took your sweet time," he said playfully, still holding his glass. "When you activated Time Stop, I was this close to stepping in. Thought you were trying to teach Veldora a lesson he'd never forget."
He smiled, expecting her to roll her eyes or make a sarcastic remark.
But she didn't.
She just walked past him, shoulders heavy, and sat down at the grand crystal table. She placed her arms on it and rested her head there, silent. Still.
Guy blinked.
His smile faded.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Velzard?" he asked, more serious now. "What happened?"
No reply.
He stepped closer, noticing now the small details he'd missed:
The way her breathing was shallow.
The way her lips were slightly split.
The deep scuff on her shoulder.
The small tremor in her fingers.
Velzard had been beaten.
"Hey… Talk to me," Guy said, softer now, sitting across from her.
Several moments passed before Velzard slowly lifted her head. Her expression wasn't angry. It wasn't even cold.
It was… hollow.
"I was defeated today," she said quietly.
Guy blinked again.
"Defeated? Wait—what? By who? Don't tell me Veldora suddenly grew a brain and figured out how to win."
Velzard gave a weak scoff—just for a second—but her eyes never brightened.
"No. Not Veldora. Someone else."
Guy frowned.
"Someone else? Who?"
"Hujira," she replied, her voice cold like the winds outside. "I've never seen him before. I've never felt him before."
"And yet… he beat me."
Guy sat back, stunned. His fingers slowly loosened their grip on his glass.
"Wait… you're serious?"
Velzard didn't answer. She didn't need to.
The bruises.
The silence.
The pain in her eyes.
Guy leaned forward, now genuinely concerned and intrigued.
"What did he use? Some strange ability? A Unique Skill? Was he a hero?"
Velzard shook her head.
"Nothing. No skills. No magic. No aura. Just… pure strength."
"He moved through Time Stop."
"And he caught my attack like it was nothing. Then—"
She paused, as if reliving the moment.
"—he punched me in the gut. One hit. That was all it took."
Guy was quiet for a long time. His mind raced.
A being that could move in Time Stop. That could strike Velzard down with no enhancements, no divine blessings, no energy signatures?
Impossible.
And yet…
"So…" he finally said. "That's why you used Time Stop. You were pushed that far."
Velzard nodded.
"Even that didn't work. Nothing worked."
"I was helpless."
Guy's lips tightened. He stood and walked to the edge of the balcony again, wine forgotten.
"And we've never heard of him?"
Velzard looked up at Guy, her voice flat.
"And before he walked away… he told me to crawl back to 'whatever hole I came from.'"
"Then he said something else."
Guy turned to her.
"What?"
"He said…" she hesitated, then stared into Guy's crimson eyes.
"He said, 'Tell your boyfriend he's next. I'm coming for him.'"
The wind stopped.
The air tensed.
And then, suddenly—
Guy laughed.
A long, excited laugh, full of fire and thrill.
"Oh-ho… Now that's interesting."
His eyes gleamed like blood-soaked rubies.
"Someone strong enough to humble you… and bold enough to call me out?"
He turned, and for the first time in centuries, he looked excited.
Truly excited.
"Velzard…" he said, his tone like a storm beginning to rise.
"You may have lost today—but you just gave me the best gift imaginable."
Velzard closed her eyes, unsure if she was relieved… or terrified.
For the first time in a long, long time—
The Demon King of Pride was burning.
And war was coming.
The wind howled through the Jura Forest, rustling the ancient trees as if whispering secrets to one another. Veldora sat slumped on a rock, arms crossed, his usual cocky grin nowhere to be seen. The ground where Velzard had fallen still held scorch marks from the pressure of Hujiro's strikes. The atmosphere felt heavy, like the forest itself was stunned by what it had witnessed.
Hujiro stood tall, calm as ever. Not a scratch on him. He hadn't even broken a sweat.
He glanced at Veldora, the so-called Storm Dragon, and his gaze narrowed with something between disgust and disappointment.
"Why are you so scared of your sister?" Hujiro's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "She should be the one afraid of you."
Veldora flinched slightly, eyes still locked on the ground.
Hujiro took a step forward, his feet crunching the twigs beneath. "All that boasting earlier—'Storm Dragon this,' 'I'm the most destructive force,' blah blah—and now look at you. Crawling in your own shadow like an insect."
"I wasn't crawling…" Veldora muttered weakly, but there was no strength behind his words.
"Really?" Hujiro tilted his head. "Because from what I saw, you folded the moment she raised her voice. You didn't even try to stand up to her. Is that the mighty Storm Dragon I heard about? If that's who you really are, then maybe the stories were exaggerated."
Veldora's fists clenched, knuckles pale. He gritted his teeth. "You don't get it. She's not just anyone. She's Velzard, the White Ice Dragon. Older than me. Stronger. Colder than death itself. When she looks at me… it's like I'm a child again."
"Then grow the hell up." Hujiro's voice was ice. "Only the strongest deserve respect. That's the rule of this world. You live by power or die by weakness. There's no in-between."
Veldora's eyes widened.
"I don't associate with cowards," Hujiro continued. "If you still want to be my friend, then you better start acting like the dragon you claim to be. Or I'll be the one who ends you. Myself."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Veldora looked up, meeting Hujiro's gaze. There was no malice in those eyes. Just raw conviction. The kind of conviction that reshaped nations, rewrote fate, and shattered legends.
Veldora swallowed. "But…"
"No buts." Hujiro turned away, his cloak fluttering in the wind. "I don't want excuses. I want to see a dragon."
The words hit harder than Velzard's icy glares ever had. They stirred something deep in Veldora's core. A fire. A storm.
He stood slowly. "You're different," he said.
Hujiro didn't look back. "I'm the future."
A long silence passed between them. The birds had gone quiet. Even the wind felt like it was holding its breath.
Then Hujiro broke the silence. "How long until we reach the Ice Continent?"
Veldora hesitated. "Couple of hours... maybe less if I fly at full speed."
"Good." Hujiro stretched his shoulders slightly, as if preparing for a light workout. "Let's go."
Veldora blinked. "Wait, now?"
Hujiro turned, his face serious, eyes locked. "Now."
Veldora paused. The old him would have made a joke. Delayed. Bragged. But right now, that side of him felt distant—irrelevant.
He nodded slowly. "Fine. Let's go."
With a mighty flap of his wings, Veldora in his dragon form, his massive frame surging with power. Hujiro leapt onto his back effortlessly, arms folded, calm as a winter storm.
As they soared into the sky, Veldora looked forward with new resolve. If he was going to face his sister again, it wouldn't be as a scared little brother.
It would be as a true dragon.
And behind him sat a man who had already crushed one legend and was now headed to challenge another.
The Ice Continent awaited.
And so did Guy Crimson.