Rick stood dumbfounded before the great dragon, Ragnarok. This was not at all the creature described in the ancient texts. The book painted him as a merciless, fiery beast—yet the dragon that towered before him carried an aura of calm, almost gentle in nature.
At first, Rick wondered if he had mistaken this dragon for another. But no—the scales, the horns, the very presence of him matched perfectly the depiction from the old illustrations. Summoning every ounce of courage he had, Rick stepped forward.
"Are you… the immortal dragon, Ragnarok?" he asked.
The dragon tilted his massive head, amusement flickering in his eyes. His deep, resonant voice rumbled through the cavern.
"That is not my name, human. But you can call me Ragnarok. And yes… I am."
Relief and fear tangled within Rick's chest, but curiosity soon overtook him. "Then why are you so kind? You're nothing like the monster written in the book."
For a fleeting moment, sorrow shadowed the dragon's gaze. His golden eyes softened, as if burdened by memories too heavy to bear. He looked away before answering, his voice quieter now.
"That is something you do not need to know."
The dragon's eyes narrowed as his tone shifted. "Now, human—it is my turn to ask. Do you remember… your old self?"
Rick blinked, startled by the question. "My… old self? I don't know what you mean."
Ragnarok let out a low hum, almost as if confirming a suspicion. "I see. Then tell me—can you feel something within you, something unknown… something that does not belong to this life?"
Confusion tangled Rick's thoughts. He shook his head. "I… I can't. I don't know what you want me to say."
For the first time, the dragon's composure wavered. His enormous form shifted uneasily, claws scraping against stone. "Strange," Ragnarok muttered. "It is as though something is stirring within you… something hidden. Yet you do not see it."
His gaze hardened again, piercing through Rick. "Then answer me this—what do you truly remember about yourself?"
This time, Rick was caught off guard by the dragon's question. It wasn't about myths or destiny—it was about his life. For a moment, he hesitated, then spoke.
"My name is Rick van Vleck," he said, his voice faltering. "My father is Duke of this kingdom, Duke van Vleck. My mother's name was Allen… she passed away." He coughed, trying to steady himself. "Currently, I am traveling across the nation under the Duke's order. That… is all I can remember."
Ragnarok's golden eyes narrowed, studying him intently. Rick felt a chill. He hadn't expected such a question, nor did he understand why this ancient dragon was so interested in his past.
The truth was simple—Ragnarok wasn't just curious. He was trying to confirm something. After hearing Rick's words, the great dragon sank into deep thought.
How is this possible? Ragnarok's mind rumbled with disbelief. His memory is one thing, but… he can't even sense his own power. That massive, disgusting energy surrounding him—how could he not feel it?
The dragon's massive claws scraped against stone as he shifted. In the first place, he shouldn't even exist. That person died. I saw it. Yet here he stands. Could it be… a god reincarnated him?
But then he shook his head, scales glinting in the dim light. No. Even a god does not possess the power to bring someone like him back.
A realization struck like thunder. His eyes widened. Wait… in the ancient texts, there was mention of a being even more powerful than the gods themselves…
Ragnarok's thoughts swirled. If what I suspect is true… then everything begins to make sense. His eyes glimmered as the pieces of an ancient puzzle slowly aligned.
But before he could speak further, a sudden pressure descended upon the cavern. It was not the aura of a beast, nor the malice of an enemy. It was something far greater—something that pressed against the soul itself, as if warning: Do not reveal what must remain hidden.
Ragnarok felt the weight of it, a silent force whispering, This knowledge is not for you to share. With a low growl, he lowered his head. "I understand. I will say no more."
Just as suddenly as it came, the pressure vanished.
Rick, of course, noticed nothing. He was too weak, blood loss clouding his vision. His head spun, and though Ragnarok had healed him partially, the dizziness lingered. Confused, Rick struggled to focus as the dragon's voice rumbled again.
"Thank you for your answers," Ragnarok said solemnly. His golden eyes fixed upon Rick with a strange intensity. "Now, for the final question. Tell me… what is the meaning of life?"
Rick blinked in disbelief. "The meaning of… life? What do you mean?"
Ragnarok's gaze did not waver. His voice deepened, heavy with the weight of centuries.
"Just as I asked. What does it mean to be alive? What is the meaning of our existence? Why do we walk this path? I want to know."
The air grew heavy. For the first time, Rick realized that the immortal dragon before him was not demanding knowledge—he was searching.
Ragnarok's voice trembled, almost human in its desperation lile he was searching the answer for ages but couldn't find it.
Rick didn't truly know how to answer Ragnarok's impossible question. The meaning of life? The reason for existence? Such things were far beyond him. Yet he spoke anyway, his voice quiet but firm.
"I don't know what life is, or what the purpose of our existence may be," he admitted. "But the reason I want to live… is because I still haven't fulfilled the promise I made—to my mother, and to myself. Until I do, I cannot die. I have to live."
For a moment, silence filled the cavern. Then Ragnarok threw back his head and laughed, his voice echoing like thunder.
"Ha! Ha ha ha! Fascinating. Truly fascinating. Never once did I imagine I would hear such words—I don't want to die! Ha! Ha ha ha! Fate is indeed a strange thing."
Rick frowned, unable to understand what was so amusing. Ragnarok's golden eyes gleamed as he leaned closer.
"Do not misunderstand me, child," the dragon rumbled. "I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at fate itself. You claim you want to live because of a promise… Tell me, what kind of promise did you make?"
Rick's hand tightened into a fist as his voice grew steadier. "I made a promise at my mother's grave—that I will become the strongest being in the world."
A low growl of amusement escaped Ragnarok's throat, his eyes blazing with intrigue.
"Interesting," he said. "So you want to be the strongest being alive. In that case…" His massive claws dug into the stone as his presence flared. "…you are planning to challenge the one who already holds that title, aren't you? The current strongest being in this world."
Rick, still breathing heavily, clenched his fists. "Yeah… that's right."
Ragnarok's eyes narrowed, his voice resonating like thunder across the cavern.
"In my era, I was hailed as the strongest being in the world. Even now, though my power has waned with time, I remain among the few who stand at the peak. And you claim that one day… you will surpass even me?"
Rick's teeth ground together, his determination blazing. "Not only your current self. I'll even surpass the you of the past—your strongest form. Whatever it takes, I'll become stronger than anyone else in this world."
For the first time, Ragnarok smiled faintly. His voice, though heavy, carried a trace of approval.
"I like your courage. If you truly believe in that strength of yours, then forge a path worthy of it. Swear the Warrior's Oath. Declare before me, Rick von Vleck, that you will one day surpass me. And when that day comes…" His golden eyes glowed with a fierce light. "…you will face me in battle, and kill me with your own hands."
Rick froze. His heart thundered in his chest. He knew what such an oath meant. The Warrior's Oath was sacred—something only warriors who acknowledged each other's strength would share. To swear it meant to bind one's fate to the clash of blades, to a promise of inevitable combat.
"Why me?" Rick asked, his voice wavering under the weight of the dragon's demand. "Why does it have to be me? If you simply wish to die, there are many who could challenge you. Why choose me?"
He breathed heavily, waiting for an answer.
Ragnarok's massive eyes glimmered as he spoke.
"It is true that there are many who could kill me. But I do not wish to die at their hands. I refuse to fall to someone unworthy—someone who cannot even reach my level. Call it pride if you will. But you, boy… you may be different. Perhaps one day, you could even surpass the strength I once held. That is why I choose you. I want to fight you in the future—and die by your hand."
Rick stared at him, stunned. His voice trembled. "That much faith… How can you be so sure that I'll ever surpass you?"
Ragnarok's maw curved into something between a smile and a growl. "That is something you will learn with time. But for now, answer me this: will you swear a Warrior's Oath with me?"
Rick's body was weak—his vision blurred, his limbs cold. Blood stained his skin, and every breath felt heavier than the last. Yet somewhere deep inside, he found one last ember of strength. His voice rang out, raw but unwavering.
"I don't know why you believe in me so much. I don't even have an answer to your question about life. But there is one thing I do know—one thing I must do. I, Rick von Vleck, son of Duke Allen Vleck, swear upon my honor as a warrior: I will one day surpass you, Ragnarok, and fight you to the death!"
The cavern trembled as if the oath itself carried weight in the world.
Ragnarok's gaze softened. For the first time in centuries, he felt anticipation stir in his ancient heart.
"Very well," he rumbled. "Then I, Ragnarok, the eternal dragon, accept your oath.
As a warrior, I bear witness to your vow, and I shall wait for you at the end of your path.
Grow strong, Rick von Vleck—strong enough to challenge even the gods themselves.
Until then, I will wait… patiently, for our battle."
The silence that followed was absolute. It was not the silence of emptiness, but of history being written.
The moment the oath was spoken, silence fell across the world. It was as though time itself paused, bearing witness to the birth of something eternal. What had just taken place would one day be remembered as history—an oath forged between an eleven-year-old boy who could barely command mana, and the immortal dragon, Ragnarok.
Many would laugh at the absurdity. A frail child swearing a warrior's oath with the mightiest of dragons—what madness! Yet Ragnarok did not laugh. His eyes, ancient and knowing, saw further than the present weakness of the boy before him. He knew. He believed.
One day, this child would grow. One day, Rick von Vleck would become strong enough to challenge even the gods themselves.