A roar thundered from the direction of the sunrise, rolling over the land like a storm. The ground trembled faintly beneath them, and the villagers dropped low at once, hands over their heads. Every torch flickered violently, shadows jumping like frightened spirits.
Children screamed and clung to their parents. Even the strongest men, hardened by farm work and hunting, paled at the sound. Fear spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Dracula blinked, stiff in his saddle. "What is that sound?"
Beside him, Alisha's breath hitched. Her body trembled, but she forced the words out. "That… that is the roar of the dragon."
'A dragon?' His chest tightened. 'Oh my words. I'm about to see the greatest creature of a fantasy world. A real dragon…'
But his wonder broke as he noticed the crowd. Their terror was absolute, men shouting over each other, women crying, children burying their faces in skirts. Their panic wasn't awe, it was pure horror.
'Why are they all scared?'
As though she heard his thoughts, Alisha spoke again, her voice hollow with memory. "That dragon belongs to the demon king's army. Its flame devours all it touches. I've seen it before, Sir… it reduces everything to ash."
Dracula swallowed hard.
'Great. Seeing a dragon isn't a good idea after all. We should be running, not standing here like targets.'
He looked toward the horizon where the roar had come from, dread tightening his gut.
But then he realized, the chaos behind him was fading. The screams had softened. The shouting was gone. Now, there was only a heavy, suffocating silence.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Hundreds of eyes were fixed on him. Wide, desperate, shimmering with fear… and hope. The villagers weren't looking at the horizon anymore. They were looking at him.
'Oh no,' he thought, cold sweat trickling down his back. 'They want me to fight it. They think I'll save them. Don't look at me like that, I'm no hero. I'm just… me.'
His grip on the reins tightened, knuckles white. For the first time since arriving, he felt the full weight of the name they had given him: Hero Dracula.
A young girl ran up to the hero, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please save us, sir hero."
One by one, voices rose from the villagers. "Please help us, lord hero!"
'Great… they're all counting on me now. I'm not going to risk my life over you people.'
But Dracula stepped forward, his voice steady. "Everyone, leave. I'll hold the dragon here. You'll have time to escape. I promise, no one will die today."
'Brilliant. I just dug my own grave. I'm an idiot.'
The girl clutched at his cloak. "What about you, sir hero? Won't you come back?"
He forced a confident smile. "Of course. Who's going to save the world, if not me?"
The girl's tears softened into a small smile, and hope flickered across the weary faces of the crowd.
Then Dracula noticed something, many of the villagers had no horses. Most were on foot, dragging carts piled high with sacks and crates. He frowned. "You can't go like this if you want to survive. You have to leave things behind."
A man stepped forward, clutching the reins of his mule. "But sir hero, this is all we've got. These are the supplies for the village. They won't let us in without paying a price."
Dracula's eyes narrowed. "Is there magic that can grow a seed into a full-grown tree?"
"Yes," the man admitted, "but it costs money to ask someone to use that magic."
"Then share your money and make the seed grow. Take only the food you'll need for a single day and leave the rest. We can't risk our lives like this."
'They really are hopeless,' Dracula thought. 'Even in this world, people are bound by currency and rules.'
Reluctantly, the villagers obeyed, sorting through their belongings and abandoning most of their goods. When at last they moved on, it was a leaner, faster group.
For Dracula, though, this was just the beginning. Ahead of him waited a dragon, alone, one on one.
'I never thought my life would end like this,' he thought bitterly. 'If this really isn't a dream, then I might die for real. I don't want to die.'
The road beneath them grew harder, the ground trembling with each distant roar.
'I better find my magic spell to counter the dragon.'
Dracula made sure the villagers were far enough away, giving himself space to act without endangering anyone. He raised his left hand toward the horizon where the roar had come from, his fingers trembling slightly.
"Fire… bullet!"
Nothing. Not even a flicker of light.
'No. Definitely not fire.'
"Thunder strike!"
The silence mocked him, heavy in his ears.
'Not this either.'
"Water magic, do anything!"
His chest tightened as he felt the heat from the horizon.
'Do I even have powers? Am I really the hero?'
Then he saw it, the dragon's massive wings slicing through the sky, casting shadows that swallowed the ground. Even from a distance, its size was terrifying, each flap shaking the earth faintly.
'It's coming.'
He raised his voice, sharper this time. "Wind magic! Make a tornado!"
Nothing stirred.
The dragon drew closer, its eyes glowing with a deep, intelligent rage. It seemed aware of him, sensing his presence even without moving its body fully. Its jaws opened slowly, releasing a thick fog that hissed in the air, and deep inside its throat a glow burned, yellow and orange, the promise of flame.
"Fire magic! Thunder magic! Spirit magic! Water magic!" Dracula shouted, voice cracking with urgency.
"Come on, work!"
The wind picked up faintly, but it was weak against the dragon's approach. The ground quivered with every beat of its enormous wings, and Dracula's heart pounded as the shadow of the beast stretched over him.
'I'm facing a dragon… alone. If this isn't a dream… I might actually die.'
Then a sound came, a roar, but not from the fire-breathing dragon. It was deeper, sharper, almost like a command. The dragon immediately reacted, its massive wings tensing as it shot back into the clouds, vanishing from sight.
Dracula stood frozen, breathing hard, heart hammering. He had been seconds away from facing a fire-breathing dragon head-on.
'This is suicide. I wanna go home.'
The clouds above glowed faintly. Fire flickered within them, streaks of yellow and orange bursting through, followed by a flash of cold blue light. It looked like the dragon was fighting something unseen inside the clouds. Shimmering, glowing particles rained down from the sky, strange and otherworldly.
Then, without warning, the dragon came crashing out of the clouds, its body twisting violently. It was fast, too fast. Off balance. It slammed into the ground near Dracula with an earth-shaking crash, tearing the soil apart as it skidded across the land.
Dracula leapt back instinctively, rolling on the ground to dodge the impact.
'I almost died just now.'
He lay there for a moment, lungs burning, then sat up and looked. Up close, the dragon was even larger than it had appeared in the air, massive, scaled, and radiating heat. But then, with a low, guttural growl, it began to rise, standing back up.
The ground trembled again, but this time the tremor came from behind him. The sunlight disappeared from his back, replaced by a vast shadow. Slowly, he turned.
There, towering over him, was a second dragon, white-scaled, sleek, and glinting with a cold, silver-like light. It wasn't as large as the fire-breather, but its presence was just as terrifying. And on its back sat a young girl with flowing white hair, gripping the reins as if she had been born in the saddle.
'Did I just fall into the world of Game of Thrones?'
The two dragons locked eyes, a silent, primal tension sparking between them. Claws dug into the earth, wings flexed. The air felt like it could explode any second.
'If I stay here, I'm dead. I need a place to hide.'
Dracula slowly pushed himself up from the ground, trying not to make any sudden moves. But then he felt it, the girl's gaze. She had noticed him. Her piercing eyes locked with his, and he froze.
'The Targaryen girl saw me.'
A low horn echoed in the distance. The fire-breathing dragon reacted instantly, whipping its head toward the sound. Without another roar, it spread its wings and took off, leaving a trail of scorched dust behind.
'Well, one problem's gone. But another just arrived.'
The white dragon turned its head back toward Dracula and let out a deep, resonant roar that shook the air.
'If what you're after is my life, then take it.'
Dracula raised both hands, crossing his arms in front of him, standing like a man offering himself to fate.