BLOOD OF THE DRAGON GOD

Chapter 1: The Blood of the Outcast

Death did not knock on the northern border, it simply blew the door off its hinges.

The freezing wind howled across the jagged rocks, carrying the sharp scent of copper and burning flesh. Logan pressed his back against a crumbling stone wall, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, but the rhythmic thud of incoming artillery fire kept his heart hammering against his ribs.

Move your legs, Logan, Vance yelled, his voice cracking as he slid into the dirt beside him. If you stay there, you are a dead man.

Logan looked at his friend. Vance’s face was smeared with black soot, his eyes wide and bloodshot with sheer panic. They were just apprentices, the lowest of the low, handed cheap iron swords and sent out to line the trenches. The academy called them the vanguard, but everyone knew the truth. They were nothing but human shields meant to soak up the initial wave of magic before the real mages arrived.

I cannot feel my left arm, Logan said, his voice shaking.

Vance grabbed Logan by the collar of his leather vest and shook him hard. Do not think about it. Just look at me. We are going to get out of this. We just need to make it to the tree line.

A sudden, high-pitched whistling sound cut through the air.

Get down, Vance screamed, lunging forward.

The world exploded in a blinding flash of purple light. A massive wave of raw energy slammed into the ground just ten yards away, throwing both boys into the air. The impact felt like a physical blow from a giant fist, shattering Logan’s ribs and sending him crashing into a deep, freshly blasted crater.

Heavy wooden beams, burning rocks, and chunks of frozen earth rained down, burying Logan up to his chest. He gasped for air, but his lungs filled with thick, suffocating smoke.

Vance, Logan choked out, coughing violently. Vance, where are you?

A few feet away, a groaning sound came from beneath a pile of burning timber. Logan clawed at the dirt with his right hand, ignoring the sharp rocks tearing at his fingernails. He dragged his broken body forward, inch by painful inch, until he reached the wreckage. He pulled away a smoking plank, and his stomach turned.

Vance lay there, his torso crushed by a massive boulder. Blood poured from his mouth, staining his teeth dark red.

Logan, Vance whispered, his voice barely a breath. It hurts. I cannot breathe.

Hold on, Logan said, his own tears cutting tracks through the soot on his cheeks. I will get this off you. Just stay with me.

Do not bother, Vance said, a weak, tragic smile touching his lips. My legs are gone, mate. I am finished.

No, you are not, Logan yelled, throwing his weight against the boulder. He pushed with everything he had, but the stone did not move an inch. A sharp pain shot through his chest, and he collapsed over his friend, coughing up dark blood. His own organs were failing, crushed by the blast.

Listen to me, Vance gasped, his hand weakly gripping Logan’s wrist. Run. They are coming to clean up the survivors. You have to run.

I am not leaving you, Logan said, his voice breaking.

Vance’s grip tightened for a fraction of a second, and then his fingers went completely limp. His eyes stared blankly into the gray sky, empty and lifeless.

Vance, Logan whispered, shaking his friend’s shoulder. Vance, wake up. Come on, please.

There was no answer. The only sound was the distant laughter of the rogue mages as they walked through the ruins, finishing off the wounded apprentices with quick, casual sparks of magic.

Logan fell back against the dirt, his vision fading at the edges. His heart slowed down, skipping beats as his internal injuries took their toll. He could feel his life leaking out into the cold mud.

Is this how it ends? Logan thought, closing his eyes. Dying like an animal in a ditch?

Suddenly, a strange sensation bloomed in the center of his chest. It did not feel like his own body anymore. The enemy magic heavy in the air, a foul, oppressive purple energy, seemed to press down on him. But instead of crushing him entirely, it sparked something deep within his bones.

A dormant, ancient power, buried through generations of outcasts, felt the hostile magic and woke up. It did not just wake up, it roared to life.

A burning heat flooded his veins, replacing the cold touch of death. Logan’s eyes snapped open. The pain in his chest vanished as his cracked ribs fused back together in a second. His punctured lungs expanded, taking in a massive gulp of air.

What is happening to me? Logan thought, terror gripping him as his own body began to change.

His fingers twitched. He looked down and gasped. The skin on his knuckles was splitting open, replaced by thick, midnight black scales that grew rapidly over his hands. His fingernails elongated, hardening into razor-sharp talons that glinted in the firelight.

Two rogue mages stepped over the lip of the crater, their hands glowing with malicious purple energy.

Look here, one mage said, pointing a finger at Logan. We missed one. He is still breathing.

Finish him quickly, the second mage said, sounding bored. We need to move to the next sector.

The first mage raised his hand, channeling a bolt of lightning. Die, little rat, he said.

Logan did not feel fear anymore. An overwhelming, primal rage drowned out every human emotion inside him. The blood in his veins was boiling, demanding release.

He opened his mouth to scream, but what came out was not human.

A terrifying, deep roar echoed from the depths of his chest. The sheer sound wave tore through the air, vibrating the ground and shattering the stones around the crater.

The purple protective barriers around the two mages instantly cracked and blew apart like fragile glass under the immense pressure of the sound. The mages covered their ears, screaming in agony as blood leaked from their eyes and noses. The shockwave rippled outward, flattening the surrounding shrubbery and sending a wave of absolute terror through the entire wilderness.