1 Prologue - Double The Scotsman

Deep within the depths of his own soul, Caelan Wallace was dying.

Flames of light and darkness raged all around him. His very soul, was a world made of fire.

White hot flame emerged from him in a torrent, fighting and clashing against roiling flames as black as night.

A continuous roar resounded in his ears. But it was not the roar of the flame that drowned out everything else. No, this roar, came from his partner.

These black flames threatening to consume him whole. They were once the source of one of his greatest strengths.

Blaze Black Flare. A Sacred Gear made from a fragment of the Evil Dragon King, Vritra.

And that was whom the bone rattling roar was coming from.

"Damn you Cao Cao!" Caelan hissed, palms outstretched and unleashing torrent after torrent of glittering white flame. The flame passed down through his bloodline. The holy flame of the sun god Belenus! "I'll have yae for this ya' rotten backstabbing fucker!"

But no matter how much flame he unleashed, he just could not compete. He may have been the last living descendant of the great William Wallace himself, the demi-god son of Belenus, but he was far weaker than his ancestor and the blood of the god in his veins was thin.

Bit by bit, the ocean of black flame being released by the thrashing and rampaging gargantuan black serpentine dragon was overwhelming him.

"Fuck!" Caelan hissed. He could feel himself being seared away. If he lost here, he would die. His very soul would be burnt out!

This was not how he wanted to meet Vritra. He'd longed dreamed of finding the other Vritra Sacred Gears and reforming Vritra and using the power of the Dragon King and his inheritance to show the strength of the Wallace family, make them great again!

Instead. He had been duped.

Join the Hero Faction they said. A collection of hero descendants just like him. And like him, many of them had Sacred Gears. He'd fit right in they said.

All a lie.

Instead, a fraction of the power of the Infinite Dragon God had been forced upon him, to force him to awaken what they called Balance Breaker.

And that fraction of power had been enough to give the fragment of Vritra within him the power to reform, whole and hale.

The only problem was. The black dragon was raging out of control and spewing his dark cursed flames in every direction, filling his soul with it and burning it away.

Bit by bit light was overpowered by darkness.

'Bastard!' Caelan raged internally. Ten years of training with the abilities passed down in his blood since he was but a toddler. Of swinging swords until his fingers bled to be able to wield the fabled Wallace Sword held by his family. Of pushing his body to the very limit, training until he vomited and passed out to be stronger than any other.

And it was all going to end like this?

His dark grey eyes went to his arms. They were fading. He could see right through them, and the rest of his body was not far behind. He was half there, half gone.

If he lost here, he wouldn't just die. His very soul was going to be incinerated!

'Fuck that!' he snarled, and with a roar thrust everything he had out. The flames of light erupting from his hands swelled and doubled in size and pushed the black flames back a bit.

"I am a proud son of Scotland!" Caelan bellowed, "Am no gonnae be dun in bae that fuckin Chinkie bastard!"

Cao Cao would rue the day he ever fucked with a lad from Scotland! "SCOTLAND FOREVER!!!" he proudly declared. Until his flame burnt out, he'd never give up.

That is the pride of a lad from Scotland!

It didn't matter how outnumbered, our how outmatched a true son of Scotland was! They would never give in! They would never surrender!

It was just too bad that the enemy in front of him, was Vritra. He had always been so proud to contain a part of a dragon within him. And he'd felt comforted by the fact, that while his family may have been dead and gone, he would never be alone because Vritra was always with him, backing him up.

He was a proud Celtic supporter. With his roots coming from the Celtic gods themselves, how could he not be? And the song, 'You'll Never Walk Alone' had resonated with him deeply since he was a wee lad. Because, with Vritra, he never would.

But now, Vritra wasn't at his back. Vritra was out of control and going to end up destroying his very soul because of that jumped up chink. All he had now, was himself. A fifteen year old boy with the thin traces of a gods blood in his veins.

And his pride as a Scotsman.

It may have been instinct. Or it may be him becoming delusional from the pain. But, he found there was only one way to win this and survive, to overcome the odds!

"SHARE YOUR STRENGTH WITH ME SCOTLAND!" Caelan roared, and he knew, Scotland, the greatest land of all, would provide!

"Wit the fuck!?" a voice shouted from behind in shock.

And provide Scotland did.

There could be no mistaking that familiar accent.

Caelan chanced it. He looked over his shoulder and found himself looking at a lad shorter than he by a few inches, yet fit and broad shouldered, with short spiky hair.

The lad was entirely naked beyond a pair of black gauntlets with clawed fingers on his hands, glowing royal purple gems on the back of the fists.

"Mate where the fuck um a? And wits wae al' the fuckin' fire?" he looked around wildly. His sharp blue eyes though, Caelan could see they were heavily dilated. He wasn't all there right now, he was out of it.

And like him, his body wasn't all there. Partially see through, as if he was fading away.

But those gauntlets. He could feel a familiar presence from them. Vritra! It felt just like the dragon raging below them, and the same presence he felt when using Blaze Black Flare

"Wit yae last remember mate?" Caelan grunted and asked.

"A git hit wae a fuckin bus mate, then everythin' went fuckin' dark n' a woke up here." the boy shrugged and replied, looking around himself in a daze.

Hard lines. Looks like a fellow son of Scotland lost his life.

"Yer deed mate, or almost ur', both ae us ur'." Caelan dropped the bomb nice and quick, no time to beat around the bush here.

"Aye, a figured so mate," the other boy snorted, "This hell then? It's goat enough fuckin' fire fer it. Hope a don't get sum cunt tryin' tae shove a pineapple up ma arse."

Despite the situation, Caelan laughed loudly. Scottish lads were the best, truly. Nothing like that retard Siegfried, or that roided up tool Heracles. And definitely not like that faggot chinkie Cao Cao.

To bad about that bitch Jeanne, he wouldn't have minded shaggin' that french bird rotten.

"Worse than that mate, we're both about tae get burnt out of existence, we urnie even gonna get as good as hell," Caelan snorted, "But, av goat an idea, we kin get oot a this and bae better af than ever!"

"That right?" the boy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him, "Well have at it mate. If it gets mae oot a no existin' or gettin' raped up the arse wae a pineapple, am all for it."

Caelan re-routed all of his power to his right hand, unleashing as much of his flame from it as possible to hold Vritra off and cut off the flow from his left. He held it out behind him towards the boy, inviting him in, "This is ma soul we're in mate. I've no got the strength to fight much longer, but if yae join up wae me, that'll be a different story."

"Like fuckin' fusin' or sumthin?" the boy chuckled, "Some dragon ball shit?"

Did he mean Drag-So Ball?

"Aye, sumthin' like that mate," Caelan put it out of mind, "We're both practically gone already, right? Joinin' up at least geez us a better chance. Two titties are better than one ya' know mate?"

The boys eyes lit up in realization, "Aye mate I get yae!" he reached over with one gauntlet clad fist and took his hand, "Nae idea how yer gonna manage it though."

Caelan didn't either, but it was the best shot he had,so he'd just have to-

The boy grasping his hand disappeared. A life time of memories crashed into him and washed over his mind. Thoughts, feelings, desires, dreams, fears, sorrows.

Two lives became one. Two sets of memories submerged into each other like a pair of rivers joining together. And Two Scottish lads, became one, and the one born of two was greater than either of the separate halves.

Yaden Caelan Odhar Wallace was born!

Was it a mouthful? Yes, "JUST LIKE MA' COCK!" he laughed madly, gleefully and victoriously.

The black gauntlets, Delete Field, that Yarden Odhar had gained upon dying and entering what was a fictional world to him, was now upon Yarden Caelan's hands.

The newly born Yarden thrust his right hand out in a punch, From around the wrist of the gauntlet, four ebony dark chains of shadow formed into existence and shot down towards the raging Vritra.

The four chains wrapped around the massive serpentine dragons mouth and forced his mouth to close. And with the power of Delete Field, one of Vritra's own most powerful abilities, the Dragon King's power was completely suppressed.

The massive black serpent dragon stilled. "..What...What is going on?" Vritra rumbled, lost and confused.

Ah, the dragon had come to his senses.

Yarden sighed in relief, and the energy just drained out of him. He felt himself slumping backwards as his vision went dark.

And then he felt himself waking up a moment later. The nauseating putrid smell of rotten flesh assaulting his nostrils.

Yarden blinked his eyes open blearily, and on sluggish limbs made to push himself up. As he did, he noticed, that his entire body was clad from head to toe, in an ebony black armor with royal purple gems in the knee caps, the back of the fists and one in the chest.

'This is like the Scale Mail, right?' he realized. The memories he had of being just Yarden, told him, this world, was fictional, at least where he was from. He didn't know much about the world beyond the anime he'd watched and wiki dividing, but the Scale Mail was easy to remember.

He put it out of mind though when he noticed just where he was located. 'Holy shit.' he gaped, and resisted the urge to throw up.

All around him were males and females of varying ages. Every single one of them dead. There had to be hundreds of them. They were laying under a blazing sun and he could see crows and scavengers plucking at the piles of corpses.

Yarden grimaced.

He'd never seen any of them before. But, he could already make a good guess as to who they were. They were failures, like Caelan alone was destined to become. People who were exposed to the power of Ophis and forced to awaken their Balance Breaker early, only to fail and die in the process.

Cao Cao. He was a sick fuck. He thought himself so special just because had the True Longinus. Thought himself some great hero.

But Yarden would make sure he knew. That in the end, he was nothing before a true son of Scotland!

But not right now. As much as he would love to hunt Cao Cao down right now, he simply wasn't strong enough to defeat him alongside all his greasy shit head minions.

'What will you do then?' a voice spoke up in his head.

Yarden jumped a little, before calming down as he recognized it, 'Vritra?' he asked mentally.

'Yes, and I thank you for bringing me to my senses,' Vritra responded, 'But the question still remains, what will you do?'

Beyond training, he wouldn't actually know what to do. That is, if he were merely Caelan. But with the knowledge he'd received, little as it was, he had a good idea. Nay, an excellent idea.

"Well I've got some god in me, and with you, I've got some dragon too," Yarden smirked, "Maybe I should add some devil to the mix?"

He wondered. Just how much would the devils be willing to give for the information he had? The information on the Chaos Brigade and Ophis should definitely open the door for him.

'That is an option, and if you can manage to get a powerful piece, the boost from it alone will do wonders to enhance your already, not in-substantial strength.' the dragon mused.

He was thinking too little. On top of this information, he had his bloodline as a descendant of William Wallace. He had the blood of the sun god Belenus and the ability to call upon and use holy flames.

And on top of that. He held out his armored right fist and called out mentally. In a flash, a crimson red two handed blade appeared in his hand. The Wallace Sword.

Though that was not its true name. The real name of this blade was Grian. A holy sword forged by Belenus and the goddess Brigit. A blade that could only be wielded by one of Wallace blood.

This blade had been in the possession of his family for hundreds of years. And was the weapon used by William Wallace to slay the greatest warrior of England, the wielder of Divine Dividing.

With this, his bloodline that could be passed down to his children and the information he had. 'Well, I won't settle for anything less than High-Class from the get go.' he chuckled internally.

He'd get around to smashing Cao Cao in the future. But there were more reasons than just that faggot. The Dragon Devil of Scotland had a nice ring to it after all. And he couldn't deny the appeal of getting a peerage of his own.