The walk home from the temple felt longer than any dungeon run his parents had ever described. That is to say Ragnar’s upper branches glowed with soft lantern-light, but the light did nothing to warm the hollow space in Nicolas’s chest. Whatever that they wanted to do with Nietzsche was not something that average man would take. After all, he had failed his family. He kept his posture perfectSun Elf discipline refusing to break even while the vampire hunger whispered that failure tasted like cold blood. In that way the hunger had been waiting for this exact moment, quiet and patient, ever since the altar had given him nothing.
His family’s house clung to a thick side-branch, a comfortable nest of living wood and gold-veined windows. The door opened before he could knock. His eyes came close enough to see a woman and the eternal shade of his father. Lili stood there, crimson eyes soft, the faint scent of night-blooming flowers around her. Behind her, his father tall, bronze-skinned, still carrying the quiet weight of an Epic Colossal Goblin spirit froze the moment he saw Nicolas’s face. The thing is both of them already knew. The blood they carried had never been enough for the academy. What is more the gods had just proved it and wanted it to be that way.
Nicolas did not waste words.
“I failed the awakening. No martial spirit. Mark dismissed me on the spot. Yeah, I know I am a fucking loser. I have read and trained too much. Why not just kill myself?”
Silence.
Then Lili stepped forward and pulled him into her arms. Her voice was steady, warm, the same voice that had once soothed him after childhood nightmares. “You are still our son. You CANNOT KILL YOURSELF. Spirit or no spirit. That does not change THE FACT THAT I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!” After all a mother’s love does not ask the gods for permission.
His father’s reaction was slower and sharper. The older Sun Elf’s golden eyes widened. Shock first. Then something darker. He opened his mouth, closed it, then the words came out rough and broken. He may regret it the future.
“You… failed? WHAT? ARE YOU INSANE? After everything? After the blood we carry? After the years we hunted so you could stand in that temple? WTF? THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE.” His voice rose, then cracked. “Do you understand what this means? Do you—”
He stopped. Nothing came next. The anger drained out of him as fast as it had come. His shoulders slumped. He turned away, one hand covering his face, and the sound that escaped him was not a scolding. It was a quiet, helpless sob. The great hunter who had faced dungeon bosses without flinching stood in their living room and cried harder than Nicolas had ever seen. That is to say the Epic Colossal Goblin spirit could not protect a father from the sight of his son being declared nobody.
Lili guided Nicolas to a chair and sat beside him, one hand on his wrist. “We will find another path. There is always another path.”
Nicolas nodded. He did not trust his voice. The hunger inside him stirred again, restless now that the gods had refused him.
The first call came an hour later. Daniel’s name lit the screen. Nicolas almost ignored it. He answered anyway.
Daniel’s laughter spilled through the speaker. “Loser. Actual, official loser. Mark already told everyone. No spirit, no academy, no future. Enjoy farming or whatever nobodies do. Don’t bother showing your golden face around Luminas again.”
The line went dead.
Nicolas set the phone down carefully. In that way the laughter stayed in the room long after the call ended.
The letter arrived next, delivered by a silent academy courier. Thick parchment sealed with the black crest of Luminas. Director Nikla’s signature sat at the bottom, bold, final. The man possessed an Epic Wraith of Hell spirit, and the letter carried the same cold weight.
Nicolas Nietzsche Prime Sinclair is hereby dismissed from Luminas Academy effective immediately. Failure to awaken a martial spirit by the designated age constitutes permanent expulsion. All academy privileges, housing, and training rights are revoked. Vacate academy grounds by sundown. Further contact is neither required nor welcome.
Nicolas read it twice. Then the perfect posture finally broke. He sat on the edge of his bed, letter crumpled in one fist, and cried in silence. The tears were hot against his golden skin. The hunger inside him stirred, restless and sharp, but he forced it back down. What is more the letter was not just paper. It was the hyperverse itself telling him he was finished.
Night settled over Ragnar. The world-tree’s canopy swallowed the last light. His parents had finally gone to sleep, exhausted by grief and worry. Nicolas lay awake staring at the ceiling until the clock on his wall read 2:00 a.m.
Then the world folded and showed him endless possibilities that no one will ever imagine. Who knew that someday he would face the gods?
One moment he was in his bed. The next he stood on cold stone under a sky that was not Jupiter’s. A vast pocket dimension stretched around himimpossible and complete. To his left rose a wide breeding cave carved into black rock, its mouth glowing with soft heat. Beside it stood a tall tower of pale crystal filled with empty egg niches. Beyond that, neat rows of farm plots waited under artificial suns. A massive living tree dominated the center of the space, its branches heavy with glowing fruit shaped like dragon eggs. An open arena of scarred stone waited to the right. Farther out, several towers lay in ruins, shattered, overgrown, and silent. That is to say the entire domain felt like it had been waiting for someone the gods had already thrown away. THIS WAS AN ISLAND FOR DRAGONS.
A calm, genderless voice spoke directly into his mind.
[Dragon Emperor System initialized.]
Host: Nicolas Nietzsche Prime Sinclair
Martial spirit status: Absent
Compensation protocol activated.
Nicolas turned in a slow circle. “What is this place?”
This is the Dragon Emperor Domain : a personal pocket dimension bound to the host. Core facilities detected:
Breeding Cave
Egg Tower
Resource Farms
Summoning Tree
Combat Arena
Ruined Towers (currently offline)
Primary function: Raise dragons. Command dragons. Become the Dragon Emperor.
A translucent interface bloomed in the air before him. Rank tables scrolled past.
Spirit / Dragon Rarity Ranks
RankRaritySymbolGeneral Position1CommonCBasic2RareRBasic : early hybrids3Very RareVRStronger4EpicEHigh5LegendaryLVery high6MythicalMExtremely high7HeroicHHighest rarityAdditional higher tiers existed beyond the list: Extraordinary, Prana, and Divine. In that way the system itself refused the limits the academy had tried to place on him.
Combat ranks appeared next.
None : Bronze I to Bronze II to Bronze III to Silver I to Silver II to Silver III to Gold I to Gold II to Gold III to Platinum I to Platinum II to Platinum III
RankVictories RequiredHP/ATK BonusNone0—Bronze I5+5%Bronze II15+10%Bronze III35+15%Silver I60+20%Silver II90+25%Silver III120+30%Gold I160+35%Gold II200+40%Gold III250+50%Platinum I320+55%Platinum II400+60%Platinum III500+70%Elemental affinities listed themselves in two groups.
Original : Basic elements
Terra · Flame · Sea · Nature · Electric · Ice · Metal · Dark · Light · War · Pure · Legend
Later : Special elements
Primal · Wind · Time · Magic · Chaos · Happy · Dream · Beauty · Soul
The voice continued, calm and absolute.
Store access granted. Starter currency: 500 Dragon Coins.
First purchase recommended.
Nicolas opened the store. Rows of dragon eggs and hatchlings floated in holographic light. Most were locked behind higher ranks or prices he could not yet afford. At the very top of the Common section, a single egg pulsed with soft red light.
Common Flame Dragoness : 100 Dragon Coins
Young female. Element: Flame. Potential: Limited but stable. Growth rate: Standard.
He bought it without hesitation. After all the gods had given him nothing. This was the first thing that answered.
The egg appeared in his handswarm, scaled, the size of a large melon. He carried it to the breeding cave carefully as if she had been meant for him from the very beginning of the universe. The moment he set it on the prepared nest, the shell cracked. A small dragoness emerged, no larger than a hunting cat. Scales the color of fresh embers. Eyes like living coals. She chirped once, uncertain, then looked up at him.
Name your first dragon.
Nicolas studied her for a long moment. “Ember.”
The system accepted the name.
He turned next to the farms. The plots responded to his will. Seeds of flame-fruit and blood-grain sprouted under his hands. Within an hour of focused work the first harvest was readydense, energy-rich food that glowed faintly with heat. He fed Ember carefully, piece by piece.
She grew.
Level 1… 2… 3…
By the time the pocket dimension’s artificial night began to lighten, Ember had reached Level 7. Her body had lengthened. Wings stretched wider. The ember-glow beneath her scales burned brighter. She nosed his hand, then curled against his leg with a soft, contented rumble. That is to say something that had been empty since the altar was no longer empty.
Nicolas stood in the center of his new domain—breeding cave, egg tower, farms, summoning tree, arena, and the distant ruined towers—and felt the hollow space in his chest begin to fill with something hotter than grief.
He had been dismissed.
Mocked.
Declared a nobody.
The gods of the hyperverse had given him nothing.The Dragon Emperor System had given him a beginning. Something will change very soon about the outside world, No one will ever mock the name: Nietzsche.
Ember lifted her head and breathed a thin ribbon of fire into the air. The flame painted Nicolas’s golden skin the color of a living sunrise.
He smiled for the first time since the temple.
“Grow stronger,” he told her quietly. “We have a long way to climb.”
What is more the climb had already started.
Come on! feed me. This book will be put into kindle when finished. Feed me.
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