Chapter 67 - Painful Memories – Part 2

"I didn't notice it at first. But when I saw what was happening to my mother and tried to help her, I realized it was already too late. I began backing away as fast as I could, and when I looked at the humans, I saw that—unlike when they'd stood before us—they were now utterly terrified."

"Huh? I don't understand. What could be more frightening than you and your mother?"

"Me," the bird replied.

"What? You… but I thought—"

"It wasn't because I was scarier, nor because I was stronger."

"Then why?"

"At that time they were nowhere near dragons, just as I wasn't yet a phoenix. So their powers—and mine—fell far short of what they should have been. Even so, it was still dragonfirdragon-fireke the flame I wielded as a phoenix.

Few beings dare withstand the flames my mother used that day. But there's only one who could walk through them—who could stand within those infernos as if they were nothing…"

"So… a dragon? You mean a dragon saved those people?"

The bird paused to think.

"Not exactly… Though the only being capable of what those humans did that day would be a dragon. We wouldn't be here if that were the case. So… a descendant—a half-blood, a distant cross of mortals and divine beings. If that lineage awakened, despite all its flaws, it grants a measure of immunity to flames—especially to those of its kind, someone on the verge of becoming a dragon."

She glanced at the serpent, trembling with rage at the memory, then continued:

"However, although both are powerful, phoenix fire doesn't compare to dragon fire. So even if those men had gained some resistance to dragon flames—no matter how weak—if I'd attacked them, they might have held out for a moment, but in the end, they'd have died, because I was a phoenix."

"But why did you help her? I thought dragons and phoenixes didn't get along."

"Maybe that's true for many, but her mother wasn't like those stupid dragons—or any other beasts. She was different. Well, perhaps it's because of her age…?"

Unlike other beasts that will do anything to evolve—including feeding on others and absorbing their Qi from their cores and bodies—she simply drew Qi naturally from the environment, even though it was the slowest path to growth.

One day, when I was still very young, I wandered into a barren expanse of nothing but sand. Exhausted from so much flying, walking was my only option. As I traversed that wasteland, I encountered seven humans—most clad in white, but two dressed in black.

My parents had warned me about them: beings who judge us harshly even when they are no better—or often far inferior. They care only for themselves, and though they evolved from simple primates, they believe they are the universe's center, convinced only they have the right to shape the world's fate. Meanwhile, they slaughter and destroy countless lands, building and razing entire kingdoms in their endless wars.

Armed with what I'd been told, I tried to flee at once. But when I turned, I found myself surrounded, with no escape. Exhausted and encircled by sword-wielding humans ready to strike, I was paralyzed by terror. Then, as the first man charged me, he—and all the others—froze in place.

A vast shadow fell behind me, and by its mere presence, its owner forced those men to drop their swords and kneel, horror writ plain on their faces. My body trembling, I turned slowly. Facing that being, I felt like a mere bird before a deity. Shaking and terrified, I fled immediately.

As I ran, I remembered what my parents had told me about such creatures: beasts born, like us, with the blood of one of the great world-governing entities—the half-dragons, or the colossal demonic serpents.

Noah glanced at the serpent, recalling how her presence had first overwhelmed him, making him believe his only choice was to kneel and await death… though he had not. Lost in that memory, he listened as the bird continued:

"But even knowing what they were, there was nothing I could do. Their mere presence made me quake with fear, and my flight was just a reflex of utter terror. Now, understanding what I faced and what was to come, my entire body froze—I could only tremble as she approached.

She moved toward me with those blue eyes that seemed to pierce my soul. Locking her gaze on me, she asked, 'What are you doing out here alone, little phoenix?'

I couldn't fathom why she kept asking questions; I assumed she'd simply swallow me whole and move on. Fearing her mood might turn, I stammered in a trembling voice that I was bound for the Demon Forest.

She scanned every inch of me and asked, "And where did you come from, little one? Why did it cost you so much Qi just to get here?"

My mind raced—why interrogate me when she could have devoured me outright? Yet I blurted, "I come from the Sacred Plains…"

Thoughtful, she raised her gaze at my answer. I worried I'd said the wrong thing—maybe I should've named it somewhere else. But after a brief pause, she met my eyes again and said, "I see. That explains why you used so much Qi; that place is truly remote. But tell me: why didn't anyone teach you to absorb Qi while flying, back where you lived?"

I was utterly confused: absorb Qi in mid-flight? Was that even possible?

How would I know? From my earliest days, I'd been taught that the strong rise above the weak, and that draining Qi from others was the surest—and easiest—path to evolution.

Hearing my reply, she shook her head. "It is possible. And if someone had shown you, you'd never have been cornered by those rats—done properly, you'd never run out of Qi."

She demonstrated the technique, and though I barely realized it at the time, that brief lesson calmed me instantly; every trace of fear vanished.

Demonic beasts have an uncanny gift for Qi absorption. But with phoenix blood in my veins, mastering it was as effortless as breathing—just minutes to make it second nature.

As Qi flooded my body, I felt more alive than ever and soared back toward the heavens. I headed slowly toward the Demon Forest, leaving behind those humans who'd once trapped me—paralyzed, trembling on the sand.

Yet aflame with vengeance for what they'd nearly done if she hadn't arrived, I swooped past them in a streak of fire, leaving them smoldering beneath my wings.