Prologue
The Empire founded by humans was now little more than a ragged patchwork.
It was surrounded on all sides by vile neighbors eager to tear into its flesh.
These brazen beggars periodically stirred up chaos along the Empire's borders.
Humans called the strongest among those beggars orcs.
The sinister ones were dark elves.
Those who refused to go to the afterlife even after death were undead.
And there were even demons, living high on their own delusions despite being beggars themselves.
With enemies like these pressing so relentlessly, it seemed the human Empire couldn't hold out much longer.
Five hundred years ago, the subjects had cried that the Empire was doomed.
Three hundred years ago, they said it was finally over.
A hundred years ago, the same.
And just ten years ago, too.
The doomsayers' cries against the Empire never ceased.
Yet the Empire stood strong to this day, thanks to one special secret.
Dragons.
Even as these ferocious beggars gnawed at it, the Empire flourished because humans had an uncanny knack for handling dragons.
No—in truth, without dragons, the human Empire never could have existed at all.
The Dragon Knights who rode them were the Empire's true guardians. And at the pinnacle of those guardians stood one great man.
Duke Owen Glendower.
Yet for some reason, the duke was now dying, betrayed by the very Empire he had defended his whole life.
"Guh! Urk!"
Every breath spewed blood, and Owen knew he wouldn't last much longer.
His partner, the black dragon Tanares, was in equally dire shape.
"Stop, Tanares. There's no point in going farther."
The clamor of pursuers echoed vividly from behind.
They'd be caught soon, no doubt.
This vast forest, large enough to hide even a dragon, was the only reason they'd evaded capture so far.
Known as the Eternal Forest, it was filled with trees stretching skyward.
"Grrrraaah—!"
Tanares, the black dragon, could endure no longer and collapsed against a massive dead tree, his body drenched in blood.
Owen dismounted and spent a long moment heaving in agony, clutching his shoulder.
Tanares sighed at the sight.
"The human emperor couldn't overcome his jealousy and committed this folly."
Owen was the Empire's guardian.
The people loved him more than anyone.
The problem was that it provoked the emperor.
The emperor had always felt fear and inferiority toward Owen. And in the end, he crossed the line.
He laid a trap and lured Owen in.
The charge: treason.
Cliché, but effective.
The sycophants who had long resented Owen's successes rallied behind the emperor.
But even that wouldn't have brought him down so easily.
"To think the emperor... would invite humanity's enemies into the fray..."
Waiting in the trap were the demons, dark elves, orcs, and undead he had defeated in the past.
To eliminate Owen, the emperor had forgotten his own position entirely.
"Owen, it was their best option. Removing a thorn in their side like you, while gaining a pretext to meddle in the Empire afterward."
"Tanares... even so, this defies reason. Begging aid from humanity's foes? Where the hell is that emperor now?"
If it had ended as mere internal power struggles, Owen might have accepted it stoically.
But this was on another level.
The Empire's future was now shrouded in storm clouds.
"Enough groaning. There's one last resort."
"A dying dragon talking nonsense? If there was something, why not use it sooner?"
"It's only possible now that we're this far gone. Owen, why do you think I brought us to the Eternal Forest?"
"Because even a big lizard like you could hide here?"
"You idiot! Use your brain for once. This forest isn't just full of giant trees. It's a special place where ancient powers converge. That's why the trees grew so absurdly large in the first place."
"So? There's some secret art usable only here?"
"Exactly. Our deaths are inevitable, but wouldn't it be a shame to give up like this?"
"Death is the end. What are you on about, lizard?"
"Hear me out to the end. There's a way to revive."
"What? Really...?"
Even as his vision blurred, Owen felt a spark of hope.
If it was possible, he wouldn't forgive that foolish emperor this time.
"We can come back right away?"
"No, it'll take some time."
"How long?"
"About twenty years?"
"Why so long...? Cough! Urk."
Owen vomited another gush of blood and collapsed exhausted against the black dragon Tanares.
"I'm going to transfer my power to you. For a dead soul to revive, it needs to gather that strength—and it'll take roughly twenty years."
"Ugh, by then the Empire might be finished."
"If that's the Empire's fate, nothing to be done."
"No, after all we've fought for—you and the Empire..."
"I'm resentful too. But coming back in twenty years is better than nothing, isn't it? And by then, you'll have power on a whole other level."
"But in twenty years, this body will have rotted away...? What, become an undead?"
"Don't overthink it. In twenty years, you'll inhabit a body just abandoned by its soul."
"A corpse?"
"Yes. You'll start a new life as that person."
Tanares didn't know exactly who it would be.
"Someone connected to you by fate."
"...They won't die because of me, will they?"
"Of course not. They'll be fated to die then anyway. Without you, it'd just rot away."
"Fine, then. I'll accept it. Even in twenty years, I'll make that old emperor pay."
"Good thinking. They're close now."
The pursuers were nearly upon them.
The heavy footfalls of the other dragons mobilized to hunt the black dragon Tanares rang out clearly.
"Let's begin."
"Hey, Tanares. Can't you come back too? That part's..."
"Fool. I nearly died of boredom hanging around with you. Now I can rest easy—it's for the best."
"...Thanks for everything."
Soon, Tanares's secret art activated.
The mighty dragon's power began to infuse Owen's soul. And one by one, they breathed their last.
"Over here! They've been spotted!"
"Found them!"
By the time the pursuit—made up of the emperor's minions and humanity's enemies—arrived, Owen and Tanares had already slipped into quiet slumber.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter...
The seasons turned endlessly, and all traces of Owen and Tanares vanished.
The world remembered them only as traitors.
The Empire slowly succumbed to infiltration by humanity's foes, rotting from within.
Meanwhile, Owen's soul lingered in the Eternal Forest, refusing to depart for the afterlife.
It steadily absorbed the power left by the black dragon Tanares.
Woooong.
Every day, the hum of mana vibrated as Owen's soul grew larger.
Like something not human, it became a soul surpassing any mortal's.
No one could say what impact this would have on Owen's future.
But he had already been the Empire's greatest hero in life.
Now infused with a dragon's power, he was transforming into something unprecedented in human history.
[Fuuu....]
After ten years, the slumbering soul half-awoke.
His consciousness was still hazy, but Owen sensed the change.
He felt as if he had become a colossal being, gazing down upon the world.
A sensation he had never known before.
[Is this the world as Tanares saw it?]
Owen's soul continued to expand. And harden.
But the emperor—and all his old enemies who hated him—remained utterly oblivious.
Thanks to that, Owen passed the years undisturbed. And twenty years elapsed.
Once Owen had fully absorbed the power Tanares left behind, his slumbering soul finally awoke.
"Young master! Oh no! What are we to do!"
Owen felt consciousness returning amid the tearful cries.
Irritation surged instinctively.
After so long in the forest's serene quiet, such noise felt alien.
"Ugh..."
He grimaced and groaned, prompting a joyful reaction.
"He's alive! Alive! Huhuhu!"
No telling who was sobbing like this.
Forcing his eyes open, he saw a stranger bawling.
"Young master! This worthless old fool's to blame!"
Looking around, it was a riverbank.
His body was soaked through.
"Wh... what?"
"Young master, boo-hoo."
"Stop... crying, first off."
The tearful figure was a shabby old man.
His clothes marked him as some household servant.
Deep wrinkles, blackened and callused hands—he was a lifelong laborer.
"Who are you?"
Now clear-headed, Owen asked.
The events of twenty years ago were vivid in his mind.
'Just as Tanares said—I've been reborn.'
Unlike the calm Owen, the old man froze in shock.
"Mercy... Young master! Don't you recognize this old servant?"
"I wouldn't know you if we'd never met..."
He could pretend, but it'd unravel quickly.
"Heavens! The shock of cheating death must be too much!"
The old man thumped his chest in frustration.
Owen calmed him and asked what had happened.
"You fell into the river, young master. Bubbles, bubbles—no breath for so long, I thought you were gone for good."
Startled, he'd tied a rope around himself, jumped in, and hauled him out.
Whoever he was, remarkably loyal.
"I was a step too late—when I pulled you out, you weren't breathing, face all blue. I wailed in despair, and then you spewed water and woke up."
Owen understood now.
Just as Tanares said, he'd entered the body of one fated to die.
Pity the old man, but his "young master" had truly drowned.
Owen had entered after the soul departed.
"Hmm..."
Examining his hands, they were far smoother than his old, battle-hardened ones.
He headed to a pool by the riverbank and peered into the clear water.
"What in the world..."
He knew what had happened, but facing a completely unfamiliar face stirred unease.
This "young master" looked like a teenager, unlike his thirty-something self.
Handsome and refined—not to his liking at all.
"Young master, you've forgotten who you are too? This is bad! We must get home and fetch a doctor!"
"Calm yourself. More importantly, why call me 'young master'? Who am I?"
"You're the young master, who else?"
"Settle down and explain clearly."
"Aigoo... You're the brave Dragon Knight, son of Sir Logan Leire. Name's Owen."
"Owen, son of Sir Logan Leire?"
"Yes, named after the famed Dragon Knight Duke Owen Glendower."
Ironically, his past and present names matched.
After a moment's thought, Owen realized the connection.
He had once saved a man named Logan Leire during a battle with orcs.
'Fate weaves strangely...'
Sir Leire was an upstanding man.
They'd spent only a few days together, but it was enough to know his character.
To reunite through reincarnation, of all things.
Life was unpredictable.
"This is..."
As Owen shook his head repeatedly, the old servant couldn't hide his worry.
"Young master, we should head home first. Staying by the river soaked like this is dangerous. You nearly didn't make it..."
"Very well."
For now, Owen followed the old servant home.
As they trudged along, curiosity bubbled up.
"Sir Leire... I mean, Father's dragon—what breed is it?"
Even back from the dead, wondering about dragons first—pure occupational habit.
But the old servant just clicked his tongue.
"Aigoo. Looks like your head's still not right, young master."
"What do you mean?"
Did Sir Leire's dragon have some issue?
Owen's interest piqued.