Limitless Evolution: I’m The New Dragon God?

The child gave a timid nod, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, that's me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Relief washed through Ryuzen. He had half-feared she might have already vanished deeper into the labyrinth of the city, swallowed by its endless crowd. But here she was, fragile yet alive.

She was strong, yes. But loneliness kills oneself From inside and out. He himself was the living proof of that.

He reached out, slowly so as not to frighten her, and gently placed his hand on her head. Her hair was cool beneath his palm, soft and unkempt. She flinched at first, then leaned ever so slightly into the touch, like a flower bending toward warmth.

"You've grown braver since that day," Ryuzen said softly. "But why are you here, all alone?"

The girl's lips trembled. She lowered her gaze to the ground, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her worn dress. For a long moment she could not speak, but then the words slipped out, fragile and trembling.

"Aruna's parents… they said they couldn't take care of me anymore." She bit her lip, her small voice cracking. "We didn't have enough food, not enough space. So… they told me to leave."

Her small hands clenched tighter, and a single tear traced down her cheek. "I didn't want to go. I begged them… but they closed the door. Aruna tried to stand up for me, but they said I'd only be a burden."

Ryuzen felt a pang deep in his chest. He could feel the raw sting in her words, the kind of wound no blade could inflict.

Abandonment was a cruel scar, far deeper than hunger or bruises. Her parents left her alone, and now her friends too.

He drew in a slow breath, steadying the storm within him. The child before him did not need his anger, she needed his presence.

"Runa," he said firmly, tilting her chin up with a gentle finger. Her eyes met his once more, glistening with despair. "You are not a burden. Do you understand? You are not worthless. Your life has value—more than you know."

Her lips trembled, and a shaky sob broke from her chest. "Then why didn't they want me? Why my own parents abandoned me?"

The question pierced like a blade, and Ryuzen's chest tightened. He thought of his own past, of betrayals and losses that had cut deeper than any wound. Slowly, he pulled her into his arms. She was light, too light, as if hardship had eaten away at her.

She stiffened at first, unused to comfort, but when his warmth wrapped around her, her small frame crumbled, and she buried her face against his chest.

"They were weak," Ryuzen murmured, his hand stroking her back with quiet assurance. "Not you. Remember that. They chose the easy path, not the right one. But you survived. You endured. That makes you stronger than anyone who cast you aside."

Her tears soaked into his shirt, but he did not let go. He held her until the trembling in her body eased, until the sobs dulled to quiet sniffles. When she finally lifted her head, her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her eyes held a flicker of something new—hope.

"You mean it?" she asked softly. "That I'm not worthless?"

Ryuzen's golden eyes glowed faintly as he nodded. "I promise you. From this day forward, you will never be alone again."

The words seemed to sink into her soul, settling deep where the pain had been. She gave a small, shaky smile, her hand clutching the fabric of his sleeve as if afraid he might vanish.

For a long while, they simply sat there, the city bustling beyond the playground's gates. The laughter of other children echoed faintly, but around them, the world felt quiet. A strange, fragile bond had been formed in that silence, forged by shared pain and tempered by compassion.

Ryuzen glanced up at the distant sky, where the floating towers of Atlas Skycity gleamed like ivory spires against the horizon. Somewhere out there, new missions and battles awaited him, challenges that would shape the fate of humanity. Yet at this moment, with this little girl clinging to him, he felt something just as important.

A promise had been made. And Ryuzen was not one to break promises.

He stood slowly, keeping her small hand in his, and said, "Come with me. You have a place now. I'll make sure of it."

Runa looked up at him, her wide eyes shimmering with vulnerability. But then, to his surprise, she shook her small head with quiet stubbornness.

"Thank you, kind big brother. But I don't want to burden anyone. Not anymore. I won't rely on anyone…" her voice wavered, yet her tone carried unexpected resolve.

She slipped free from his gentle grip, her fragile frame hiding a surprising strength born of hardship. Turning away, she took a step, as though determined to vanish into the streets and carry her pain alone.

But before she could leave, a low rumbling echoed behind him.

Her steps faltered. Her head turned.

And then she froze. "A Dragon?"

Towering over a hundred meters high, a majestic figure loomed in the fading light. Golden and snowy-white scales glistened as though forged from moonlight and sunlight entwined, each plate alive with radiance. The sight stole her breath.

Yet strangest of all was the tug inside her chest, a strange familiarity, as if her soul had known this being long before her eyes ever had.

"We are not strangers, Runa."

The voice rolled out, deep and resonant, carrying warmth and gravity that made the ground seem to hum beneath her feet.

"I am Yuki, the Frost Dragon you once picked up from that forest. The one you protected and cared for when I was fragile and weak. And now… it is my turn to protect you."

The evening sky seemed to bow before his presence. His draconic frame glowed, radiating warmth no sun could rival, no hearth could match. His golden eyes shimmered with shifting hues, shedding the pure whiteness of his former scales. He was no longer the tiny, endearing creature she had once cradled in her arms. He was something far greater now.

Her lips trembled.

"Really? You're… Yuki?" her voice broke, blurred by tears that spilled freely. Her chest tightened as memories came rushing back, of small, fragile wings and a soft body she once shielded from the cold.

"You've grown… so big now."

The words were little more than a whisper, yet they carried all the awe, sorrow, and joy her young heart could hold.