Dragon Academy

The air was warm, the morning sun's golden rays blooming across the sky. Wind howled as a massive, pitch-black dragon soared through the clouds, its powerful wings cutting through the air with each beat. Its brown, defined scales shimmered under the sunlight, and its curved horns gave it the look of a primal force unleashed.

Alex was mounted atop its broad back, his long white hair whipping wildly in the wind. The world stretched endlessly below, mountains and rivers nothing more than distant lines on the horizon.

A deep, humanoid voice echoed through the rushing air.

"Mister Sheng, we're going to land. Hold on tightly."

Alex gripped the dragon's scales, his fingers digging into the rough surface as the wind roared against him.

With a powerful flap of its wings, the dragon finally descended with a resounding thud, shaking the earth beneath it. Dust billowed into the air, landing in the middle of the academy grounds.

As Alex swiftly dismounted. Without hesitation, the dragon took off again, leaving only a swirling cloud of dust in its wake.

Tch.

Damn dust is getting in my eyes…

He coughed lightly, his sharp gaze sweeping across the academy grounds as the wind carried a crisp, clean scent through the air.

At least the air here feels fresh.

His lips curled slightly, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

That wretched Dragon King… He scoffed inwardly. He wants Feng Cheon to teach a bunch of lizard hatchlings?

Teaching kids, though? A sneer almost formed on his lips. That's never been my thing. How the hell am I supposed to handle that?

Then A flicker of memory surfaced—his past life, his disciple.

Right… I once had a disciple. His brows furrowed slightly. But what did he do to me?

The memory felt distant, blurred, buried beneath centuries of time.

Then, like a dagger through his thoughts, an image surfaced—the bitter tang of blood,a sneering face, the blade sinking into his back.

Alex's eyes darkened.

That venomous brat stabbed me in the back…

Before he could dwell on it, movement ahead caught his attention.

A figure emerged as the dust settled, his each step deliberate. Then the man came to a halt before Alex, his gaze was sharp and unwavering.

"You must be the one the king himself mentioned sir," he said, his tone laced with certainty.

Alex's gaze was observant, the man's features were half-inhuman horns on his head, a strange fusion of man and dragon. A pair of half-rimmed glasses rested on his nose, and his distinguished presence carried an air of wisdom—an intellect honed through years of experience.

Alex gave a slight nod to him. "Yes."

With a sign of respect, the man bowed humbly. "Welcome to Viserion Academy."

Then, gesturing ahead, he continued, "Sir, let me show you around the academy. After that, you may meet the principal for further details about your classes."

As they walked, Alex followed behind, his sharp eyes scanning the academy's architecture. The buildings seemed to be forged from obsidian-black stone, streaked with golden veins as if the very structures pulsed with ancient energy. The walls bore intricate carvings, runes etched so precisely that they seemed to hum under his fingertips.

Above him, the academy's ceiling arched like outstretched wings, ready to take flight. Crimson and sapphire banners draped from the arched gateways, their fabric embroidered with a coiled dragon devouring its own tail. At the highest point of the academy, a towering crystal obelisk stood, absorbing sunlight and refracting it across the pathways in shifting hues of violet and gold.

The ground beneath Alex's feet was paved with alternating black and white stones, smooth yet marked by the weight of countless footsteps. Despite the warmth of the sun, the air carried a crisp coolness, infused with dense mana that tingled against his skin. Every breath he took was fresh, filled with the scent of parchment, burning incense, and the faint metallic tang of sparring weapons.

To his left, an expansive training courtyard stretched out, where students engaged in controlled duels under the watchful eyes of their mentors. Blades clashed, mana crackled, and the sound of incantations wove through the air like an unbroken chant. Some students meditated beneath towering spirit trees—ancient sentinels with silver leaves that shimmered despite the stillness of the wind. Their roots ran deep beneath the academy, feeding off the very essence of the land, pulsating with unseen power.

To his right, another row of buildings housed the lecture halls, their grand doors open as scholars delivered lessons on the principles of magic, combat, and the philosophy of power. Figures clad in deep azure robes stood at the entrances, their eyes filled with the weight of knowledge. Murmurs of discussion, the scratching of quills against parchment, and the occasional flicker of arcane energy seeped into the air from within.

In the distance, at the very heart of the academy, stood the Grand Hall—a structure far more elaborate than the rest. Its massive crystal windows refracted sunlight into brilliant, shifting patterns, painting the surrounding stone with ethereal hues. The entrance was guarded by two towering statues of dragons, their gemstone eyes gleaming with an intelligence that suggested they were more than mere sculptures.

Alex took it all in, his mind absorbing every corner of this place. There was power here—power that did not come from brute strength alone, but from wisdom, discipline, and the unbreakable will of those who had walked these halls before.

Viserion Academy was not merely an institution.

It was a legacy.