The True Dragon System

Payback (1)

Barlor stood alone in the vast cavern, surrounded by the remnants of his training. The incredible transformation he had undergone over the past 24 hours felt surreal, and he found himself questioning reality more than once. How many times had he asked himself if he was dreaming? He lost count. Despite pinching his skin and trying to wake up, he remained firmly planted in TEMPEST’s realm, where everything felt real and vibrant.

"My system level is comparable to the top 10 System Bearers," he marveled, unable to contain the awe in his voice. "Unbelievable!" The words reverberated off the stone walls, echoing back to him, as if the cavern itself shared in his excitement.

Barlor remembered the complexities of system levels. He knew that advancing by even a single level usually took years of grueling effort, countless battles, and unwavering dedication. Many System Bearers spent their entire lives stuck at the same level, while here he was, standing at level 11 after just one day. He couldn’t help but feel elated as he realized the weight of his achievement.

His thoughts raced as he recalled the renowned top 10 System Bearers, their names whispered with reverence. Their levels ranged from 7 to 15, each one known for legendary feats that earned them respect across the land. Now, he had entered their ranks, reaching a level that only a select few could hope to attain. It felt like he had bypassed years of struggle and hardship, propelled forward by a mysterious force.

Barlor flexed his muscles, feeling the raw energy surging through him. The aura of the Divine Dragon System danced around him, responding to his every thought and command. It was exhilarating yet daunting, reminding him that with great power came great responsibility. The weight of his newfound abilities settled on his shoulders, and he understood he needed to wield them wisely.

Looking around the cavern, he realized his journey was just beginning. If he wanted to maintain his strength and continue growing, he would face greater challenges ahead. Dangers lurked in every corner, enemies awaited him, and trials would test his resolve.

Barlor took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. He couldn’t afford to waste this opportunity. TEMPEST had given him a gift, and he needed to make the most of it. A sense of determination washed over him.

With his new level, the possibilities stretched out before him like an open road. Would he seek out other System Bearers, challenge the strongest among them, or embark on a quest to explore the Dungeon Gates? He pondered his options, excitement mingling with the uncertainty of the future.

As he contemplated his next move, a prompt appeared before him, glowing with urgency:

DO YOU WANT TO REGISTER YOUR STATUS AND TO THE TERMINAL? YES/NO.

Barlor’s resolve hardened. Without hesitation, he clicked NO.

"Now there's only one thing left..." he said to himself, a grim smile crossing his face. "Payback."

Barlor stood in front of the grand white building, the Garrison Whites guild hall, its massive emblem of a shield with two swords crossing the center looming over him. He squinted up at the towering structure, feeling the weight of his mission settle on his shoulders. “So, this is the Garrison Whites guild hall, huh?” he muttered to himself. The guild had a reputation that preceded it, but he was not here for pleasantries; he was here for retribution.

As he took a single step forward, two men emerged from the shadows, blocking his path. They wore the guild's signature silver armor, which glinted under the midday sun, and their eyes were sharp, showing no hint of kindness. Their postures were tense, ready for confrontation.

“What do you want here?” one of them asked, his voice gravelly and demanding.

Barlor's smile appeared almost too relaxed for the situation. “I came to settle things with Manny,” he said, his tone light and matter-of-fact.

The guards exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. It was loud and raucous, filled with condescension. They laughed so hard that they doubled over, clutching their sides.

“You think you can take down Manny?” one of them managed to say between gasps. “You must be joking! Why do you believe you can even get close to him?”

Barlor shrugged, unfazed by their mockery. “I’m serious about this. If you could just show me where he is, I’ll handle it from there.”

The guards continued to laugh, clearly entertained by his boldness. But as they regained their composure, their eyes grew sharp. They moved to block his path more firmly.

“You’re either out of your mind or just plain foolish,” the other guard said, a hint of menace creeping into his voice. “Either way, we don’t have time for idiots. Leave now before we force you to go.”

Barlor didn’t flinch. Instead, he took another step forward, locking eyes with the guards. “You should let me pass. I’d prefer to avoid making a scene—at least for now.”

The laughter died away, replaced by a tense silence. The guards stiffened, hands inching toward their weapons. Barlor felt the atmosphere shift, thickening with the promise of violence.

“Get out of here,” one of them barked, raising his blade menacingly.

Barlor crossed his arms, his gaze cold and unyielding. “I’m not leaving,” he replied, almost daring them to act.

The guard's aggression flared. With a grunt of effort, he lunged forward, swinging his blade at Barlor’s head. The other guard followed suit, aiming a punch at Barlor’s stomach.

Barlor braced himself. The blade struck his chin with a sickening thud, but he didn’t even blink. The punch landed squarely in his gut, yet he remained unfazed. The guards stepped back, jaws slack with shock.

“What the…?” one of them stammered, bewildered.

Barlor grinned, a hint of something sinister glimmering in his eyes. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, the sound echoing like firecrackers. “I’ve got dragon scales. They make me a bit tougher to injure,” he said, and before they could react, he threw a punch that sent the closest guard flying backward into the guild’s front doors. The heavy wood shattered, sending splinters flying in all directions.

The commotion drew attention, and within moments, dozens of Garrison Whites filled the courtyard, weapons drawn and eyes blazing with anger. At the forefront stood Manny, the very person Barlor had come to see. Manny’s face went pale at the sight of the chaos but turned ghostly white when his eyes locked onto Barlor.

“Barlor?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief washing over his features. “How—?”

Barlor cracked a smirk, stepping over the debris and into the courtyard with deliberate confidence. “It’s simple,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I’ve awakened.”