Chapter 36 – The Will to Rise

The Nakarai reeled back, thick blood dripping from a gash across its shoulder — the first wound Zavier had landed that made it stumble. But it wasn't fear in the beast's golden eyes.

It was hunger.

"You're better than the others," the Nakarai rasped, voice gravel and venom. "But you're still a hatchling."

With a snarl, it hurled one of its crescent blades — not as a projectile, but as bait. Zavier sidestepped the obvious attack—

And was caught clean in the ribs by the Nakarai's sudden shoulder charge.

His breath exploded from his lungs as he was launched across the platform, slamming into the far edge with a bone-rattling crash. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath him.

Zavier gritted his teeth, tasting blood.

I'm too new…

He'd only been reborn as a dragon a few days ago. His body was still adjusting to the flood of new instincts, powers, and pressure. His mind, though sharp, couldn't keep up with the instincts of a species known for millennia-long reigns over empires.

He rolled to his feet just as the second blade came soaring toward him. It spun like a vortex of death — he ducked, letting it pass overhead, but the distraction had worked.

The Nakarai was already there.

A claw slammed into Zavier's chest, sending him airborne again. His wings flared, trying to stabilize him, but pain shot down his spine.

He's too fast.

Too experienced.

Too strong.

He hit the platform hard. The arena spun around him. Somewhere beyond the edge of his vision, he saw glimpses of other platforms — distant battles between warriors, monsters, and beings too strange to name.

They were all fighting.

All trying to win.

But something burned deeper in him — something primal.

I can't lose.

Not here.

Not after everything.

He closed his eyes, blood dripping from his brow.

And then… the hum returned.

Not from outside, but within. A low, resonating thrum in his chest. The same hum he'd felt when he first activated his buff — that moment in the storm, half-dead and desperate.

It was back.

The evolution stirred again.

But this time, it wasn't survival.

It was instinct.

He stood — slower, steadier — and his body responded. His breath shimmered with faint, silver-blue mist. His silver eyes brightened, hair beginning to glow faintly as his blood burned with the ancient echo of dragonkind… and something more.

The crowd watching from below leaned forward. Even Lunaria, hovering above the Tree's upper branch, raised an eyebrow.

Zavier stepped forward, his claws glowing faintly with light, his breathing leveled, and his stance relaxed.

"I may be new," he said softly, "but I'm not weak."

The Nakarai snarled and charged again — full speed, fangs bared.

This time, Zavier didn't retreat.

He met the beast head-on.

Claws locked.

Roars clashed.

The next blow wasn't just a counter.

It was evolution in motion.