I Received System to Become Dragonborn

Erend and Eccar were still amidst the wreckage of shattered golems when a wave of unnatural and cold Magic hit them, brushing across their senses like the whisper of something ancient and wrong. It came from the direction of the temple.

They froze briefly, both instinctively lifting their heads toward that stone structure, its towering form now glowing faintly with the strange black and green hue that curled like poisoned smoke.

"I don't like that," Eccar muttered under his breath. He didn't know what it was but everything in his blood screamed warning.

It was the moment when deep within the temple, the shadow of the Forest God appeared before the adventurers. But Eccar and Erend didn't know that.

Eccar clenched his fists. The adventurers—they were strong, but not that strong. He was the one who had told them to go in there. But now…

"I have to make this quick and help them. I don't know what kind of thing just appeared in there, but I don't like it," Eccar thought, his jaw tightening.

But before either of them could move, Erend suddenly snapped his head up.

Three shadows shot out from the upper spire of the temple, their forms fast and sharp against the dark grey sky.

Eccar noticed them too, narrowing his eyes. "The hell are those?"

Few meters from him, Erend's Dragon Eyes flared briefly with light.

Through the veil of air and distance, he saw the black armor, the weapons, and their demeanor — they were dressed for war.

He gritted his teeth. His scales flared out across his limbs in jagged black-red patterns, his aura blazing around him like living fire.

"Three armed figures incoming fast. And they don't look friendly."

"I know," Eccar replied, his tone grim. "Good. I've been needing something to hit that can actually fight back. Maybe they can answer some of our questions after I beat them senseless."

The three flying figures closed in fast, but the eldest among them who clutching a gnarled staff with shaft wrapped in root-like etchings and topped with a crystal that throbbed with sickly green light — halted midair and raised the staff high.

He pointed directly at Erend and Eccar's general directions.

Dark green light surged from the tip. The spell burst forth like a violent spiral of corrupted Magic twisting through the air.

It crackled as it moved, shuddering with energy that made the air hiss and buckle. Dozens of shadowy root-like tendrils curled from the beam.

The spell raced toward them both with terrifying speed.

Erend and Eccar ignored the golems still rising at their backs. With a synchronized move they launched toward the attack.

They didn't dodge but instead they punched it!

Eccar's fist ignited with lightning and flame as he slammed into the Magic head-on, shattering the corrupted energy like glass under a hammer.

BOOM!

Beside him, Erend met the other half of the spell with his own scaled fist that let out burning brown and black energy, the explosive backlash surging in a dome of smoke and wind.

BOOM!

The spell detonated, the trees and earth trembling from the force but both Dragonborns emerged from the blast cloud unharmed.

The eldest figure bared his teeth beneath his helmet. That attack was meant to kill any creature and shouldn't be able to be blocked or destroyed by a punch!

Yet these two had destroyed it with a single strike.

"Come and get them," he hissed.

At once, the other two figures beside him obeyed.

The one to the left was the man who had silver tattoos etched on his visible skin with a slender blade in his hand. He twisted midair and streaked toward Erend.

The youngest who wielded a spear lunged for Eccar, moving with shocking speed.

They met in the air and crashing together.

Steel clashed with scales. Flame hissed against dark Magic. The battle began.

Erend's opponent moved with impossible grace despite the seemingly heavy looking armor, his every motion fluid and silent.

The silver tattoos on his skin shimmered as if alive beneath his armor, granting him unnatural speed.

But Erend's reflexes with his Dragon instinct and battle-born muscle, were faster than most could follow.

He blocked the slender blade with his hand, sparks flying.

"You're fast," Erend muttered, his voice like a growl. "But I've fought things faster than you before."

The tattooed attacker didn't respond. He ducked, spun, and lashed out with a second hidden blade. But Erend was ready.

Meanwhile, Eccar's spear-wielding enemy crashed into him with enough force to crater the ground below.

Eccar snarled, caught the shaft of the spear with one hand, and pushed back with brute strength.

Eccar hissed, twisting the spear aside and headbutting the attacker so hard that it sent a shockwave through the air.

They all wore faceless helmets, adding to the unease.

Erend and Eccar couldn't read them, couldn't see who or what they were fighting.

But whoever they were they were pretty strong.

And something told both Dragonborns this wasn't just another attack. Because they came from the temple after the wave of strange Magic they felt earlier. It can't be a coincidence.

Back inside the temple, as the circle pulsed again and the adventurers stared at the breach widening toward an alien world, none of them knew yet if it was already too late.

---

The eight adventurers stood frozen before the glowing Magic circle. The widening breach throbbed with strange energies like hungering void that whispered ruin into their bones and soul.

The air had grown thin, almost strangling. Each breath felt heavier, as if the weight of what was coming was already pressing down on their chests.

For a moment, none of them could speak. It was as though doom itself was watching them and daring them to move.

Then, a voice cracked through the suffocating dread.

"We must at least try… right?" Annette whispered, clutching the amulet that bore the symbol of her god.

Her words struck the group like a spark in dry tinder.

A slow breath escaped Jan's lips. His hand, which had been clenched uselessly at his side, loosened.

He turned to Annette, then to the others.

"Annette is right," he said, voice steadier now. "We must try. But… I think this task—whatever chance we have left—I have to entrust it to you three."

He looked directly at Esther and Selene as he continued, tone firm but filled with reluctant hope.

"You, Esther, and Selene. I believe you're our best chance."

Annette glanced at the two women beside her.

Esther's gaze was sharp, her jaw clenched. Selene closed her eyes for a moment, as though listening for something deeper, then opened them again, fierce with clarity.

They both nodded.

"We'll try something," Selene said, stepping forward. "We may not know if it'll work. But we'll fight this with everything we have."

Annette took one final breath and moved to stand beside them. The three of them turned toward the widening breach, its swirling light casting shadows across their determined faces.

Behind them, the others began preparing as well. They grip their swords, daggers, and bows while steadying one another. Not because they thought they could win. But because they refused to give up.

The circle pulsed again. The veil between worlds thinned. And the last light of courage began to rise.

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