1 Awakening

The viscous lava increased its flow rate, emitting waves of heat that ascended and surged up to the cave above. As the temperature began to rise, the massive creature in the nest quickened its long breaths that could be mistaken for death. Its heart pounded, causing the pile of white bones in another corner of the cave to rub against one another, creating a cacophony of noise. After exhaling two breaths that heated the cave walls to a glowing red, the Black Dragon Nidhogg's slim pupils, protected by his double eyelids, were stimulated by the dim light. He refocused his eyes, contracting his pupils into a thin slit. His 752nd winter hibernation was thus brought to an end.

Throughout the winter's hibernation, Nidhogg did not budge, his heart beating and breath slowing down to the bare minimum required to sustain life. This time was the most dangerous period. Be it the giant carnivorous species that didn't hibernate or humans blinded by greed and fame – those who on usual days were like ants in comparison – during this period, they could easily end the life of the mighty dragon. Thanks to meticulous actions such as disguising the entrance and exit of the nest, and sealing the entrance corridor from the inside by melting the cave walls, the black dragon had safely weathered every hibernation thus far.

After clearing the entrance to the nest, the early spring breeze, still bearing a hint of chill, blew onto the dragon's snout. The muscles and bones that hadn't been exposed to sunlight for a while were stretched. The thick body had already taken flight on the wind of Mana before the dust, shaken off from the scales and membrane of the wings, dispersed. Tearing through the murky cloud of smoke, Nidhogg began patrolling his territory, looking forward to the first big meal of the year. His stomach, which had been empty for months, was eagerly awaiting some foolhardy creature to wander into the Black Dragon's territory, offering the only respite from the embarrassing rumbling and hunger pangs.

To avoid scaring off potential prey and missing opportunities, there was quite a distance between Nidhogg and the ground level. Even some birds might not be able to reach his altitude to help clean his teeth, and the creatures crawling on the ground could only see a small, blurry, black spot if they looked up to the sky. But the dragon's dynamic vision could accurately detect any moving creature on the ground.

Nidhogg's pride in his sharp eyes quickly identified a similar target, a mass of yellow-green lines wriggling amongst the grey rubble at the bottom of the valley.

Jormangund, Nidhogg's neighbor, was an old snake that measured over 164 feet in length, almost twenty percent longer than Nidhogg himself. Today, the rot-spewing snake was slithering in search of its next meal, emitting his usual foul odor. Upon seeing this neighbor who had also just emerged from hibernation, Nidhogg's appetite fizzled out instantly.

The snake had the strength to crush an Ogre's bones, could spit poisonous venom or gas, and had more combat experience than Nidhogg. More importantly, the powerful stench would be intolerable for any dragon's sharp senses...it was utterly inedible, and forcing it down might likely cause injury or disease.

Although it was a bit distasteful, the speed of the snake did pique Nidhogg's curiosity. If the snake's normal pace could be described as leisurely, now it almost seemed to be on a high-speed chase. Perhaps it had found something valuable? If Jormangund had indeed found something to fill its belly, it was necessary to swallow it down before the damned creature. After all, he could easily beat the old geezer any day.

The black dragon, having made up his mind, adjusted the direction of the wind passing over his wings and the Mana keeping him aloft with utmost precision. He reduced his gliding speed to evade detection. The calm high-altitude pursuit soon paid off—a triangular snake-head was pointing directly at a black egg resting in the bottom of the valley.

It was an elongated, opaque black egg, with a variety of weird feeling vines of different colors—red, black, etc.—attached. It seemed to have tumbled from a giant fir tree or something similar down to the barren valley filled with hot sand and fragmented stones. There was no doubt in Jormangund's mind that he would include this unclaimed egg, the delicacy of all delicacies, in his first meal since awakening.

It all seemed very reasonable, but Nidhogg did not go for it. He even vetoed the possibility of lowering his altitude. The caution that had helped him avert crises countless times was now ringing alarm bells in Nidhogg's heart. The warning was stronger than ever before. Prompted by the alarm, the dragon examined the black egg again. Some details began to emerge, causing the restlessness in his veins to amplify.

Nidhogg had eaten many eggs in his lifetime, but none of them resembled this peculiar black egg. It was more akin to the obsidian found in his hoard. Meanwhile, the things wrapped around it differed from common vines; he had never seen the material that had such bright colors and such soft texture. It wasn't something that any known plant could have or, barring that, the substance beneath the bark was clearly some type of metal.

The decisive blow to the dragon's slim chance of survival and appetite came from a foreboding aura emitted by the "Black Egg," unlike anything emanating from living or non-living entities. Even the dragon in the high sky tasted a numbness from its scalp to the tip of its tail.

It did not take more than half a second to conclude that they had to leave immediately and start acting on it. But compared to the speed at which the aberration occurred, it was almost fatally slow.

Smooth vertical hemispherical cracks appeared on the shell of the "Black Egg", and milky gas sprayed out obscuring the Black Dragon's vision. Jormangund, startled by the sudden cold air brushing over its nose, immediately coiled up and went into an attack position like a taut bowstring. Its triangular head hanging over the mist continued to emit bifurcated signals, capturing the smell in the air. Sensing the heat, its organs also entered a high-speed operational state. Any significant movements would cause a deadly liquid to shoot out from its glands, poisoning its opponent.

The thick fog turning into a white storm couldn't be seen by the snake's nearly blind vision. Still, the slight vibration on the ground turned into a nerve signal to the brain. The snake wants to attack upon receiving the signal, but its body does not respond at all, collapsing on the ground like a puddle of mud.

Its useless visual system and the severed body nerve signals prevented Jormangund from understanding and controlling the situation. This unusual scene deeply imprinted on Nidhogg's retina, looking at this unimaginable anomaly, the dragon's instinct of fear wasn't even close enough to describe its aftermath.

A small human body was swinging a large white belt in mid-air—a snake-like spinal cord.

Jormangund's body surface had tough scales to withstand high-ranking curses, and the mucus attached to it could absorb physical shocks and slide away attacks. This double line of defense was torn apart like paper in an instant, along with the muscle tissues. Then the spine was separated from the flesh body and leaped into the air.

By the time the dragon's brain understood and accepted what happened, the creature birthed from the Black Egg had already landed the final blow on the dying Jormangund. The mashed brain matter and flesh were pushed out of the body with a punch. The mixture of red and white slipped out, bursting through the skin and splattering on the ground. The strangling force that easily strangles large ogres, corrosive toxins that erode flesh, and poisonous gases that paralyze the opponent's body—none of them played a role. The 164 feet long giant snake was killed as easily as an ant.

A complete, one-sided slaughter.

Fear clenched Nidhogg's heart, and the instinct for survival sounded a frantic evacuation alarm. Leave here, escape from this bleak aura, get far away. Its body, levitating in the air using Mana, couldn't stop the incoming tremors.

However, that sharp gaze clearly indicated to Nidhogg—that any movement would only welcome a tragic fate like that of Jormangund.

The organism height of a dragon's finger on the ground, looking up at the sky, paused for a few seconds. Then, the hand that killed the giant snake made a waving gesture towards the black dot in the sky.

"Great Mafa! Save the unfortunate me!!"

The dragon's heart let loose a blood-crying lamentation. Fearing that his heart-wrenching cries could be mistaken for calling comrades or initiating attacks, the Black Dragon cautiously dispersed the mana surrounding his body. At the same time, he controlled the opening of his wings, and slowly lowered his altitude. The 73-foot-long dragon descended like a dandelion seed dancing in the wind, eventually landing at the scene of slaughter.

The impact of his landing didn't even raise dust more than a foot high. But Nidhogg, who had performed this difficult act, couldn't muster any sense of joy or show off. He just lay on the ground littered with broken stones, his tiny head tucked in, with a slight tremor running through his body, causing the loose rocks to make sound. His slit-like pupils peered through the gaps between his giant claws at that formidable figure resembling a human.

The phrase - perceiving the object of the outer world- surfaced again when it bore witness to such immense power. Then, it overlapped with those images deeply seared into his retinas, etched into his brain.

It wasn't a strong and bulky man, nor a sturdy dwarf. It certainly was not an old man with a beard hanging down to his chest, his skin cracked like dried tree bark. The significant disparity with the aforementioned bipedal creatures, who were considered strong, made Nidhogg almost forget he was being overshadowed by the specter of death.

The naked body was not a problem for the dragon's perspective. The balanced slender figure, slightly petite, outlined the perfect sculpture, with skin as smooth and lustrous as a pearl. As the gaze moved above the neck, the perfect combination of stunning features made the dragon hold his breath for a moment.

The handsome face was noticeably different from any known humanoid creature. The bridge of the nose and cheekbones were lower than average height, the facial muscles, and the skin together formed a somewhat naive face. An unseen black hair fell in front of the forehead, and the eyes below were bright scarlet, like the sunset that drowned beyond the horizon, distilled from fresh blood.

The sophisticated mix of nighttime and twilight was a novel phenomenon. Traveling across this continent, created and loved by the ancestral gods, there hadn't been a face so magnificent that one could offer a lifetime of 752 years in exchange without any resentment.

The beautiful figure, more enticing than any jewels, raised its hand, palm facing the dragon's head. A certain lump inside the consciousness was being stirred by an invisible hand. At this moment, the dragon was no longer afraid of death. It simply put this transcendent life form, defying all worldly logic, on a pedestal to observe and interpret this puzzle.

"You are a wise species."

It was not contempt, nor admiration. A purely factual tone resonated in Nidhogg's mind, in the language of the dragon clan.

Without needing to look around in confusion, the dragon lying on the ground realized it was the doing of the figure before him. He responded obediently without any resistance.

"Yes, Sir."

"I need knowledge, your perception of this world."

"All of it is yours, Sir."

The harmonious dialogue that seemed to have taken place between a master and the servant for many years was naturally established between two beings who had known each other for less than two minutes. A burst of light flooded Nidhogg's mind, and peculiar scenes flashed before his eyes.

The raised hand fell back, he lifted himself from the ground, the flesh on the ground retracted back under Jormangund's jaw, the white spine burrowed back into the flesh -

Was it his memory, or was it a rewind of memory?

The autumn hunting before hibernation to store heat, the merchant team seen from above like an anthill 43 years ago, the bloody battles witnessed between armies 116 years ago, the thrilling sensation of the first kill, the smell when he bit open the throat of a live creature presented by his mother, the blinding light, and the coldness when he hatched from the egg.

Those were the highlights of his memory retracing, at the other end of life.

He did not understand, he did not know why this was not the starting point of death.

Everything was beyond the reach of visual, auditory, sensory, thought, even the memory - it was not even darkness. Sheer nothingness enveloped Nidhogg's consciousness.

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