16- Dragon King or not, I’m coming…

I step out of the Magister's office, and Elder Libel's words still echo in my head like a stubborn refrain: "You'll understand when you see him."

Those words piqued my curiosity then, but now, having met him, they click into place.

The Magister is… how do I put it? Not quite what I expected. Strange doesn't even begin to cover it. But I don't have time to dwell on his quirks.

Another thought consumes me, making my heart pound at a frantic pace.

"Tomorrow, we'll take on a Dragon King."

Those words, tossed out so casually by the Magister, carry a weight I can't shake.

A Dragon King. No less.

These legendary creatures, these monsters that tales paint as forces of nature—invincible, terrifying. I thought their kind vanished centuries ago, swept away by time and wars. But no, they still exist. And not only do they exist, I'm about to face one.

Lost in my thoughts, I nearly miss Mira.

She's leaning against the alley wall, half-hidden in shadow, arms crossed. When she spots me, she straightens.

I slow my pace, stopping beside her, a bit startled to find her here.

"Master?" I say, hesitant.

She raises a brow, her gaze flickering with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"I told you to stop calling me that, Liam. The word 'master' doesn't fit anymore. You're my superior now."

My cheeks heat up. I scratch the back of my head, trying to mask my embarrassment. It's still hard to wrap my mind around that.

Mira, though, doesn't linger on it. Her face hardens, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"So, you saw him? The Magister?" she asks, her voice lower.

I nod. I know where this is going…

"Yeah, just met him."

"And? What do you think?"

Her question is blunt, almost harsh.

Though I expected it, I take a second to gather my thoughts.

---

Is this really him? I wonder again as I step into his apartment.

The Magister. The one everyone fears, respects, and calls the guild's most powerful man.

But nothing about him matches what I pictured. No older than me, with messy hair, wrinkled clothes… not a hint of the imposing aura you'd expect. And his apartment? Pure chaos: food scraps scattered about, clothes strewn like they're fleeing a fire. Hardly the image of wisdom and authority you'd associate with the Magister.

Elder Libel warned me, but still…

There he is. Sprawled on his couch, mouth slightly open, letting out soft snores.

My throat tightens.

I pull myself together, recalling Elder Libel's advice: don't wake him.

So I wait. Minutes drag on. I study his sleeping face, his almost infuriating stillness, and my irritation spikes. This man, supposedly a top-tier mage, shows no signs of life. And I'm just standing here, stewing in impatience.

Then a wild idea takes root.

What if he's faking?

A spark of boldness flares. I sharpen my aura, pouring in every ounce of killing intent I can muster. A clear, brutal challenge.

I want to know—no, I need to know: what's this Magister made of?

Everything shifts in an instant.

The air around me freezes. No, it's not just the air—the whole world stops. My senses dull. I can't feel the floor, the light, anything. Then, everything goes black.

That's when I see it.

Death.

It's my first thought.

Not a dream, not a hallucination. It's there, vast and crushing, as if it's swallowing the universe whole. It doesn't speak, but its gaze alone screams an undeniable truth: You are nothing.

A voice shatters the silence, deep and resonant, yet oddly detached: "Not a bad move, kid. But… don't try that again."

The voice jolts me. Suddenly, everything snaps back to normal.

I'm in his apartment again. The light, the walls, the mess—nothing's changed, except me. I'm frozen, sweat beading on my forehead.

---

I snap back to the present.

Mira's still there, unmoving, arms crossed, her gaze steady.

I manage a shaky smile, awkward and hesitant.

"Special," I say finally, a bit embarrassed. "The Magister is… let's say, very special."

Mira's brows knit slightly. She doesn't seem amused.

"Special, huh?"

She falls silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she lets out a small sigh and locks eyes with me.

"I spoke with Elder Libel. She said you could reconsider this role, Liam. You know you can step away. No one would judge you for it."

I narrow my eyes, trying to process.

Oh. It clicks.

My jaw tightens. It's not the words that sting—it's that they're coming from her. Mira. The one who knows me better than anyone. My mentor, still, despite everything. I can't believe she'd think that.

My voice rises, despite myself.

"Judge me? Really? You think that's what I'm afraid of? Don't insult me."

She raises a brow, a little surprised by my sharpness. But she stays quiet, just watching me.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

Mira shakes her head slightly.

"You're still the same, aren't you? Stubborn, diving headfirst into the craziest challenges." She crosses her arms, her gaze piercing. "Me, I make sure to dodge that kind of mess, but you… you charge in like nothing can break you."

I open my mouth to reply, feeling a pang of guilt.

But she cuts me off with a sharp gesture.

"I'm not done. You better not let him rub off on you."

A quick smile flashes across her face.

Then, with a mocking glint in her eyes, she adds, "By the way, what should I call you now, since you're my superior? Chief Liam? Grand Elder, maybe?"

I can't help but blush and look away, flustered. Her laughter rings out at my reaction.

She turns to leave, taking a few steps. Before vanishing into the corridor's shadows, she glances back one last time.

"If you ever change… if I see you losing what makes you you, I'll knock some sense back into you, got it?"

I nod, throat tight, unable to speak. She walks off without another word, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

But before she's completely gone, I murmur, almost to myself, "Thanks, Mira… for everything."

Mira's words loop in my mind, but it's not really what she said that's eating at me. It's what she'd think if she knew what's coming tomorrow.

A Dragon King.

Just thinking about it sends a thrill through me. How many people in the world can say they've faced a creature like that? Not me… not yet. But I will.

A smile tugs at my lips.

As for the Magister… ha! How do I put it? The thought of him taking on a Dragon King almost makes me laugh.

This guy, with his laid-back vibe and apocalyptic aura, acts like such a challenge is just another chore on his to-do list. It's not that he underestimates the danger—I get the sense that, for him, fighting a Dragon King or tidying his apartment is about the same level of effort.

What if I'm not strong enough? What if this hunger for more ends up burning me out?

No, not the time for that.

I take a deep breath.

Yeah, I'm scared. But isn't that what it means to be alive? Facing the unknown with courage.

"Dragon King or not, I'm coming…"