The Azure Dragon Hates Fighting
The Training Ground at Drakenheim Academy was vast.
Back when I'd only seen it in the game, it had been nothing more than an ordinary map for the tutorial fight. Stepping into it for real, though, the sheer scale hit me hard.
A circular arena. A floor etched with reinforcing magic. Tiered seating that rose around it like spectator stands. Protective artifacts studded into the walls at regular intervals. And overhead—nothing. Just open sky, designed so the winged dragon students could take flight whenever they pleased.
In other words, for a wingless creature like me, it was a custom-built anxiety generator with no ceiling.
A Western-dragon-optimized map. Zero consideration for Eastern dragon users. Smelled like a trash game already.
I tilted my head back and stared at that sky. Blue. High. Uncomfortably high. The fact that I had no wings on my back suddenly felt painfully, unmistakably clear.
"Can you fly?" Erika asked.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I woke up in this body this morning. How am I supposed to know anything?"
Erika's eyes narrowed. "Your story's getting weirder."
"My life got weirder first."
Beside us, Selene flipped open her notebook. "Recording statement."
"Don't."
"Woke up in this body this morning. Possible possession or memory confusion."
"I said don't!"
This armband was genuinely dangerous. Every time I slipped up, she filled in another page of my personal lore bible. Open my mouth and a log entry got written. It was scarier than an actual gallery—at least over there you could delete the post and run.
Lydia stepped up beside me, worry plain on her face. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"No."
"Then maybe we should stop."
"Will she stop for us?"
I looked at Erika. Erika smiled.
"Nope."
"See?"
Lydia let out a small sigh and turned toward her. "Miss Erika. Truly, only the tiniest flame."
"I know. I don't actually want to incinerate a first-year."
"Could you not use the phrase 'incinerate'?"
"Fine. Roast to death?"
"Miss Erika."
Lydia's voice dropped a notch. Oh. So even the saintess had a temper.
Erika just shrugged. "I'm kidding."
Student Council President Selene took her place at the center of the Training Ground and laid out the procedure. "This confirmation is an unofficial observation of ability. Neither side is to inflict fatal injury. Erika Rubellion will begin the ability check at minimum output. Student Cheongha will defend or evade."
"Can I even evade?" I asked.
"Unknown."
"What about defending?"
"Unknown."
"Safety measures?"
"There are protective artifacts for the spectators."
"And for my body?"
"There are none."
This academy was completely cooked.
Kyle was watching us from the lower edge of the stands, worry written all over his face. That earnest, original-protagonist expression of his only made him more annoying. In the proper timeline, he—not me—should have been the one facing Erika in the first duel. That was where he was supposed to reveal his unusual Dragon Heart and plant the Erika flag. Instead, I was standing in his spot.
"Ready?" Erika asked.
"No."
"Then we start."
"I said listen to me!"
Erika raised her hand. A red flame bloomed at her fingertips—nothing like the little hallway joke from earlier. Small as it was, this was unmistakably magic. A fist-sized fireball. Its heat rippled through the air of the Training Ground, and my tail instinctively curled in on itself.
I clutched the Yeouiju to my chest. My heart was pounding. Or was it the Yeouiju? I couldn't tell which. Either way, something was racing.
"Here I come," Erika said.
The fireball shot toward me—faster than I'd expected, and a lot more terrifying. I squeezed my eyes shut. This was the part where a real protagonist's power was supposed to kick in with style. But I wasn't the protagonist. I was a gallery troll who'd gotten turned into an Azure Dragon after stirring chaos online. So there was only one thing I could do.
"Ah, shit!"
Swear. And duck.
Troll Survival Manual, Chapter One: Never take a fight head-on. When you're outmatched, get low. Originally that probably meant "apologize," but I went with the physical interpretation.
The fireball skimmed over my head. Hot air licked the tips of my hair. I dropped hard onto the floor. Thump. Behind me the fireball smacked into a barrier and winked out. The Training Ground went quiet.
Erika stared at me blankly. Selene's pen had stopped mid-stroke. Lydia stood frozen with her hands clasped. Kyle's mouth hung open.
I sat on the ground, gasping. "See that? I dodged."
Even as I said it, my conscience twinged. But by gallery rules, if it didn't hit you, it counted as a dodge. Object all you want—you try getting hit first.
"Calling that a dodge is a stretch," Selene said. "It was extremely undignified."
"It didn't hit me."
"That much is true."
Don't write that down. Please.
Erika pressed a hand to her forehead. "You snuffed out my flame earlier."
"I don't know how I did that either."
"Try again."
"I told you, I don't know the method."
"Do it by instinct."
"My instinct is currently screaming at me to run."
Erika looked at me for a beat, then burst out laughing—loud enough that it rang through the whole arena. She wiped the corner of her eye. "Ah, for real. What even are you?"
"I'd love to know that myself."
"Can't use Breath, can't fly, scared of everything—and yet you put out my fire." She lifted her hand again. This time the flame that appeared was even smaller. "So you can snuff it, huh?"
"Please don't."
"This one's really tiny."
"Even a small bullet hurts when it hits you."
"What's a bullet?"
"Ah."
Slip of the tongue. Mouth, please. How many times today already? I'd assumed that without a keyboard I'd calm down, but my mouth had turned into a physical keyboard all on its own.
Selene's pen moved. "Possible otherworld terminology."
"Please."
Her notebook was well on its way to becoming a vault of my black history. If that thing ever leaked, the headline was already written.
Erika launched the second flame. It really was tiny this time—barely bigger than a candle. But fire was still fire. I gripped the Yeouiju tight. Scary. Hot. Don't want to get hit. Go out.
In that instant the pearl in my hand pulsed with light like a heartbeat. Blue radiance raced through the magic circles carved into the Training Ground floor. Wind rose—sharper and clearer than before. The arena wasn't even enclosed. The sky was wide open. And yet the wind didn't come down from above. It spun up from under my feet, around my tail, centered on the Yeouiju.
The little flame wavered—and went out. Puff. Just like a candle being snuffed.
Erika's eyes lit up. "See?"
"See what?"
"You can do it if you try."
"That just now was a non-reproducible bug."
"Bug?"
"Ah."
Another slip. But Erika seemed far more interested in my wind than in the word.
"Anyway, it worked."
"It did not."
"Then we just keep going until it does."
She dropped into a lower stance. In that same moment a chill ran down my spine—no, not a chill. Heat. Red mana erupted from beneath her feet. Boom. Her body shot forward.
Fast. Was she insane? The Red Dragon princess wasn't the type who fought like a pure mage—not in this moment, at least. A fist wreathed in flame. Footfalls that crushed the ground. Pressure driving straight at me head-on.
"Miss Erika!" Lydia's voice rang out.
"I'm not going to kill her!" Erika answered with a laugh.
Terrifying. "Not going to kill" usually meant she was free to beat you within an inch of your life.
"Wait—wait!"
I scrambled backward on pure reflex, but my feet tangled. My tail tangled. My entire life tangled. Then the Yeouiju flared blue. Wind coiled around my ankles. I didn't move myself—the wind shoved me.
"Wha—?"
My body slid sideways. Erika's fist skimmed past my bangs. Hot air slapped my cheek; the tips of my hair felt slightly crisped.
"You dodged?" Erika said, stopping short.
"See? I dodged, right? We're done now, right?"
She grinned. "You've been pissing me off this whole time by just running away."
"Don't call it running away. Call it a strategic retreat."
"Then I guess I just have to go faster."
"Why?!"
No answer. Erika charged again. I hugged the Yeouiju and clenched my teeth. Right. No—left. No—anywhere. Anywhere without fire, please.
The wind rose once more, rougher this time. My body was shoved backward. My soles barely found the floor. I half-rolled clear of the strike, screaming the whole way for free. Erika's attack missed. I only stopped after tumbling a full circuit across the Training Ground floor. I looked like a disaster. But I was alive. That was the important part.
"I told you not to run," Erika said.
"I think this body was built for running!"
"Then I'll just make sure you can't."
She drew in a deep breath. Instantly the air in the arena changed—grew hot. This wasn't another fireball. This wasn't a flame gathered at her fingertips. This was heat hauled up from deep in her chest, red mana climbing her throat. The signature of a dragon.
Breath.
"Wait." My voice came out thin. "Isn't Breath a fatal attack?"
"Erika Rubellion. Restrict your output." Selene's voice dropped low. The stands stirred; anyone could tell this was no longer a joke.
"Stop this!" Lydia called as well.
But Erika didn't stop. Or rather—she looked like she couldn't even hear them. Her red eyes blazed. The corner of her mouth lifted. She already wore the face of someone who could no longer register my voice, Selene's restraint, or Lydia's shout.
"Good." Erika smiled. "This time, take it for real."
She'd lost it. That wasn't the face of someone trying to kill me. The problem was that when a Red Dragon got excited enough to cross a line, the person standing near that line usually lived just long enough to regret it.
I looked behind me—barrier. To the side—spectator stands. Up—sky. No wings. End of the line. Nowhere to run.
Push her back with wind? Probably not. The fire was too big. Block it? With what? The Yeouiju? No. A fire extinguisher. Where was a fire extinguisher? Why didn't this trash game put fire extinguishers in the Training Ground?
Fire. To put it out—water. Rain. Rain!
Erika unleashed a red breath. Flames erupted. At the same moment I felt a mana reaction from the Yeouiju in my hand—not light so much as a sensation like a wave. Blue energy spilled from my fingertips, raced up my arms, and poured down into the floor. Tiny droplets clinging to the arena stones trembled. One. Two. And then—
KWA-AAAAAH!
Water columns surged up around me, from earth toward sky, like rain falling in reverse. The red Breath slammed into those columns. Sssssss. White steam blanketed my vision.
"Huh?" Kyle's voice floated through the haze. Good. If the original protagonist was confused too, then I wasn't the only one lost. Mildly comforting.
The rising water was sucked straight up into the sky. Above the Training Ground—clear only moments before—dark clouds began to gather at impossible speed, as if someone had seized the heavens and dragged them down. Wind whipped through the circular arena. Erika's red hair lashed. Lydia's golden cloak snapped. Selene's notebook pages flipped wildly.
The first raindrop landed on the tip of my nose. Tap. Second. Third. And then—
SHAAAAAA—
Rain poured down. Over the entire Training Ground. And only over the Training Ground, with uncanny precision—nowhere else in the academy.
Erika's Breath scattered between the surging water and the deluge. The last scraps of flame met the wet air and spat white steam. Protective artifacts blared warnings. Students in the stands screamed. Selene stood frozen, clutching her soaked notebook. Lydia covered her mouth and stared at me. Kyle's gaze flicked between the sky and me.
I stood in the rain. The Yeouiju in my hand was still glowing blue. Only then did my brain catch up. Just now—what had I even done?
I'd stopped a Breath. Or… could you call it stopping it? I hadn't answered fire with fire, or frozen it with ice. I'd simply thought, I have to put the fire out—and water had risen, and rain had fallen. How, I still didn't know. But one thing was certain: I was still standing, and Erika's Breath was gone.
"Yeah. That's more like it."
Erika laughed through the rain. "You. You're a really interesting one."
It almost sounded like praise. The problem was that when the Red Dragon princess praised someone with that particular look on her face, a duel challenge usually followed right after.
I couldn't answer. Because in that same moment, a thoroughly ominous thought crossed my mind.
If the original story had already twisted this far… then from here on, nothing was going to flow the way it was supposed to.