The silence in the clearing was deafening. The adventurers stood frozen, their weapons half-raised, staring at the empty spaces where the goblin bodies had just been. Their shock was palpable, a physical weight in the air. Aelius, still hidden in the shadows, watched them closely. He hadn't meant to reveal himself, but now that the goblins were gone, he knew he couldn't simply disappear. He had intervened; now he had to face the consequences.
The leader, an initial 4-star magic swordsman named Garen, was the first to regain his composure. He lowered his blade, his gaze sweeping the clearing for any sign of their unseen savior. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice a mix of suspicion and awe. "Show yourself!"
Aelius took a deep breath. His heart was pounding a nervous rhythm against his ribs. He stepped out from behind a large pine tree, his silver hair a beacon in the dim light of the campfire. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. The adventurers' eyes widened as they took in his appearance. They were expecting a battle-hardened hero, not a handsome, almost ethereal youth.
"It was me," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. The mages, three of them at the peak of the 3-star level, stared at him in disbelief. One of them, a stout man with a pointed hat, stammered, "That was... a Wind Bullet? But how?"
Garen, the swordsman, narrowed his eyes. "It was a Wind Bullet, alright, but not like any I've ever seen. It was too fast, too concentrated. No wind mage has that kind of control." He scrutinized Aelius. "What do you call that magic, kid? And where did you come from?"
"I'm Aelius," he answered, omitting his surname. "And I came from the east."
The adventurers exchanged a light gasp of surprise. Aelius saw a flicker of concern on Garen's face as he digested the information. The group quickly reasoned he must be from the eastern part of the human domain, an area known for producing powerful mages. The books Aelius had read spoke of the world as a grand chessboard of territories. The southern domain belonged to the humans, the northern to the elves, the western to the dwarves, and the entire eastern domain was a vast, dangerous monster territory. Between these main domains were four sub-domains. The southeast and northeast were vast, unoccupied lands that served as a buffer zone of monster's domain. These were the primary hunting grounds for adventurers, who were tasked with culling the monster population to prevent any risk of invasion. The southwest and northwest were home to various demi-human races like the Pantheras, Wolfkins, Harpies, and Lizardmen.
"Well, Aelius from the east," Garen said with a wry smile. "I'm Garen, a swordsman. We owe you our lives." He then gestured to his party. "This is Alana," he said, pointing to the female mage, "she's a Water mage." Alana gave a shy wave. "That's Dex, a Fire mage," Garen continued, pointing to a boy with a scowl, who simply nodded. "And our archer, Rowan, who uses Earth magic."
Aelius, a dragon in a human world, sat by a human fire for the first time in his life, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and hope. The warmth of the flames and the easy banter of the group were foreign to him, yet strangely comforting. For fifteen years, he had been alone, a creature of myth in a world of mortals. Now, he was surrounded by living, breathing people who saw him as something other than a monster. He had taken his first steps into the human world, a world he had only read about, and for the first time since his rebirth, he wasn't alone.