Fifteen years slipped by in the echoing silence of the cave. For Aelius, they were years of relentless, isolated study. He had devoured the knowledge in the ancient books, their words becoming as much a part of him as his very scales. He mastered the complex art of stabilizing his mana, forging the raw, boundless energy inherited from his mother into a fledgling core, a process that felt like hammering a star into a jewel. This new core, he discovered, had solidified at the peak of the 7-Star Dragon Level. He had jumped three ranks from his initial 4-Star Dragon Level, a level at which all dragons are born. He knew this was due to the immense mana passed down from his mother, a powerful being at the initial stage of the 9th Dragon Star Level. He also learned that a dragon's life begins at the 1st Dragon Star Level inside its egg, and a dragon only hatches after reaching the peak of the 3rd level.
With his core stabilized, the fear of his power dissipating had receded, replaced by a quiet, determined confidence. He was no longer just a vessel for his mother's legacy; he was a being in his own right, a true dragon.
The final piece of his education was the art of form-shifting. The books described it as a delicate and dangerous manipulation of his mana structure, a process of dismantling and recreating the mana that formed his skin. For Aelius, however, it was more than just a skill; it was his ticket back to the world. He had to leave the cave, not as a monster, but as a being who could walk among the very people whose history he had absorbed.
He stood before a small, reflective puddle, the same one where he had first seen his scaly reflection. His body was no longer that of a helpless hatchling, but a majestic, powerful young dragon. He was a perfect miniature of his mother, his silver scales gleaming with an inner light, his great wings folded neatly behind him. He took a deep, steadying breath, the air whistling through his nostrils. He channeled his mana, feeling the magical energy surge and begin to rearrange his very being.
He felt the mana inside him twist and coil, a sensation akin to every cell rearranging itself at once. An agonizing, burning heat coursed through him, a physical representation of the immense energy required for the transformation. His great scales dissolved into his skin, his wings folding and reshaping into his back, his talons melding into human fingers and toes. The entire process felt like his form was being unmade and then meticulously reassembled. A cry of pain tore from his throat, a sound that was now undeniably human.
When the transformation was complete, he stumbled back from the puddle, gasping for breath. He looked down at his new body, at the pale, smooth skin and the lean frame. He ran a hand through his hair, which had retained his dragon's color—a striking, ethereal silver. He saw his reflection in the puddle again. The boy staring back was a handsome youth with an otherworldly grace, his features sharp and refined, a stark contrast to the gloomy person he once was as Kai Nakamura. His skin, though it looked fragile and human, was still composed of his mana-infused scales, a beautiful disguise for his natural strength.
He practiced for days, learning to walk, to move, to exist in this new form. It felt alien to him after years of living as a dragon. More importantly, he learned that his magical power in human form was incredibly easy to control. It was as if his immense strength was filtered through a fine sieve, allowing him to use a tiny fraction of his power without causing destruction. It was a completely different way of handling mana, like he was starting from the very bottom of learning to cast spells. With each step, he grew more confident. He knew this was the first step on his journey, a journey that would take him from the sanctuary of his home to the unknown, bustling world of humans and demi-humans. He was no longer just Aelius the dragon, but Aelius the human. The Last Wind Dragon was finally ready to leave his cave.