Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 92: If You Wear His Colors, You Die!

The echo of the warhorn still hung in the air when Yvan growled.No relief. No gratitude. Just a dry, disdainful tone:— "Weren’t they supposed to kill the boss? The help of these weak creatures won’t be of much use to us..."

Isaac didn’t respond right away. He already sensed something was wrong.And as if to confirm Yvan’s words, the first group of yetis that had slid down their ice ramps at full speed was instantly annihilated.

There were no screams.Just red.Heads launched into the air, torsos split in a single strike, bodies falling into the snow in silence. No metallic clanging. No flash. Just... death.

— "Shit..." Isaac breathed, eyes wide.

— "He cut them all down without us even seeing the movement," Yvan muttered.

But this time, the silhouette didn’t move.It stood there. Upright. Exposed.

And for the first time...Isaac saw it.

A draconic humanoid, over two meters tall, clad in dark anthracite armor lined with silver markings. The scales visible beneath the joints were a deep, purplish blue, glinting with each muscle contraction.

Its head was helmeted, but beneath the shadow of the visor, its slit yellow eyes gleamed—piercing, judging. Calm. Disdainful. Predatory.

Its right arm was encased in an obsidian gauntlet, and on its left shoulder was a cuirass bearing an emblem.

A spiraling crest, entangled with claws and flames.

Isaac recognized it instantly.

— "No..."

His heart stopped for a second.His mana core spun violently, like an engine pushed to the limit. His pupils lit up with a searing orange glow, as if a hidden fire had just found air.

Belgaroth.The crest of his House.

This monster came from the same world. The same caste.A brother-in-arms? A personal assassin? It didn’t matter.

Isaac didn’t need to think.His body moved before his mind.

Without warning, without calculation, he activated all his skills:His aura exploded into a torrent of orange light.

— "You wear his colors... then you die like him."

Yvan didn’t even have time to stop him.

Isaac launched himself at the enemy like a meteor, mana wings fully extended, his left hand glowing with draconic blue energy, katana raised in the other.

The Dragon calmly lifted its head. And reacted.No words.A pivot. A backhand slash.

The assassin’s black blade cut the air—But passed through Isaac. [Intangibility.]

He struck. A first Shidensen, horizontal.

The dragon barely parried, deflecting the attack but stepping back. His gaze locked on Isaac—this time, different.More focused.

Isaac didn’t reply. He was already moving again.

Flight. Propulsion. Uppercut.

His draconic hand shot forward, aiming for the monster’s neck—But the opponent twisted away, fluid as smoke. His sword struck again, slicing the air... and passed through Isaac’s back.

His mana whirled around him. His rage, his hatred, his instinct—they fused into one entity.

But even so, every movement was taut.He knew—one wrong move, one mistimed phase... and he’d be split in half.

The enemy, now, was serious.He wasn’t testing.He was hunting.

Isaac looped through the air, returned on the left flank, and attempted a Raijinzan, the lightning-fast move surpassing even his own perception.The blade grazed the dragon’s collarbone.

But the counterstrike came instantly.

The dragon’s guard turned, blocked Isaac, and his free hand lit with a glowing sigil.A blast of pure flame erupted from the ground beneath Isaac. He was launched backward, his wings briefly dislocating from the force.

He crashed into the snow, struggling to rise.

Blood ran from his side and his nose.

Yvan surged forward like a projectile, blade already drawn, gliding over the ice as if flying, intercepting the dragon’s raised arm before it could strike again. The impact rang out like a steel bell.

— "Fall back, Isaac," Yvan growled through gritted teeth. "We take him together."

But as the two men braced themselves again, the dragon... vanished.No sound. No cry. Just absence.

— "What?!" Isaac hissed. "He’s out of visual range!"

And behind them...Screams.

Howls.

A brutal, primal sound.And yet—it wasn’t human.

The yetis.The reinforcements.They were falling.

Isaac turned—and saw hell.

White shapes hurled through the air, geysers of blood staining the snow, limbs torn, skulls shattered—and at the center of it all...

The black silhouette.

It moved like a shadow, carving through each yeti with monstrous efficiency. Every motion was an execution. Not a battle.

The yeti boss, atop the ridge, stared down at the scene.His massive fists trembled. His jaw clenched.He watched his children fall. His people. His final warriors—slaughtered like livestock.

A deep growl rumbled from his throat.

Then—a roar. A scream of despair. Of rage.

He bent his knees... and leapt.

The ground buckled under the force.The sky compressed.

The yeti chief’s body soared, massive, colossal—an immense shadow tearing through the fog—then crashed down with tectonic violence.

The impact shook the entire plain.

A shockwave of snow exploded across the field. Cracks formed. The ground froze solid across dozens of meters.The dragon, pushed back a few steps, stood unfazed—arms crossed, indifferent.

For a moment... the intimidation seemed to work.

But Isaac felt it. That pressure... that chill.

The dragon slowly lowered his head.His yellow eyes glowed.

Not with fear.With fury.

— "You dared..." Isaac heard him whisper—in the language of the predator.

The dragon’s aura erupted.Not in mana.In fire.

A black flame burst from the dragon’s left wrist.It spiraled like a drill... then formed a ring.A ring of fire.

With a fluid motion, the dragon hurled the circle forward.It slid through the air like a silent saw... and closed violently around the yeti chief’s neck.

— "NO!" Charlotte screamed from the top of the ridge.

The yeti was lifted off the ground.His feet kicked in the air.His body convulsed.

And Isaac felt it—A twisted, warped, malevolent energy.A fire that didn’t just burn flesh... but soul.

The yeti was choking.His claws scraped the air.His back arched in agony.And in a guttural moan, he let out a final breath—not of fear.But of resignation.

Isaac looked at him.And their eyes met.

In the yeti chief’s gaze, he saw everything.Chains.Whips.Experiments.Brothers killed to feed the portals.Loved ones torn away.Years of solitude in frozen corridors.Mental commands imposed.Scars that never healed.And hopes—slaughtered.

Tears rolled down the yeti’s frozen cheeks.He didn’t scream.He roared.

— "Slaves have no rights."

Isaac understood.It was the dragon speaking.

— "You’ve just condemned your species."

Isaac stepped back, teeth clenched.— "Stop this... stop it now..."

But he could do nothing. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

The fire ignited.The ring blazed with pure white, and began melting the yeti’s flesh.It blackened, blistered, peeled off in charred shreds.The fur evaporated.The cartilage hissed.The muscles melted slowly.The smell of burned flesh filled the plain.

And the scream...

That scream echoed in Isaac’s chest like a memory he’d never lived—But deeply felt.

His eyes never left the yeti’s.Not even when they rolled back.Not when his jaw hung open.Not even when the head came off with a soft crack.

It didn’t fall.It turned to ash.Melted by the fire. Pulverized.

And only silence remained.

**Isaac was trembling.His pupils were pure molten orange.His heart pounded so fast he could no longer hear Yvan speak.His body was locked in perfect tension, on the edge of detonation.His muscles quivered—not from fear, not from fatigue—But from restraint.As if he were holding back a rising tide with raw will alone.**

And deep in his chest...

The core.His mana core, that second heart that powered his entire being, began to spin.Not like before.No longer a smooth, controlled rotation.

It was a vortex.A maelstrom.

Each rotation faster.Each cycle vibrating harder.Until the breaking point.

[Ding – Mana Core: Level 2]

The mental notification was distant.Barely audible.As if drowned beneath the roar of an internal war.

A surge of energy flooded his veins.An invisible wave.It passed through his arms. His legs. His throat. His eyes.

But Isaac... barely noticed.

Because his rage blinded him.Not a screaming fury.Not a burning rage.

A cold anger.Silent.Absolute.

His wounds... were healing.Too fast. Too well.His skin reknit before their eyes—tight, hardened,As if his body itself refused to break anymore.

[Regeneration: Increased activity – Mana Core Influence.]

And then...He didn’t resist.

The activation was instinctive.

[Draconic Body – Active]

A shiver ran down his spine.Then the scales erupted.

Not slowly. Not softly.

They burst from beneath his skin in geysers of bone and keratin—black with bluish sheens, forming like living, shifting armor plates.

His arms. His flanks. His chest. His throat.Every part of him was covered.

Two horns emerged from his forehead, piercing his skin slowly, painlessly.The same as in his apartment.

He remained standing.Motionless.

But his presence... had changed.

The mana around him bent.The air grew heavier.More... familiar.

And the enemy turned.

The dragon pivoted very slowly.

His yellow, slitted pupils locked onto Isaac.For a long time.And for the first time—there was doubt in his gaze.

He recognized a fragment of something... familiar.A trace of kin.Like the scent of home in a faraway world.

And behind him, to the left, stood Yvan—Frozen, watching the man he had seen fly, bleed, heal...And now, mutate.

The rank A took a step back.His blade lowered.And in a whisper, barely audible:

— "Monster..."