Serendipity (Veldora x TBATE)

There's not much anyone can do when stuck in a situation like Veldora's. In the face of overwhelming odds, most would crumble. Panic would set in, survival instincts kicking into overdrive. You'd expect them to break down in surrender and plead for their lives, or run away and be chased like a rat in a secluded space that had no escape route.

But not Veldora.

The men in black cloaks froze for a moment, processing Veldora's arrogant declaration. Then, almost in unison, they broke into mocking laughter. Veldora smirked and crossed his arms, throwing his head back to join in.

"Kuahahahaha!"

Everyone was laughing—save, of course, the students, professors, and school personnel stuck and imprisoned in a barrier of their own. They just watched, confused and somewhat hopeful, of whatever was going to unfold. This strange man with his even stranger behavior had disrupted the oppressive atmosphere, and they clung to this unexpected turn of events like a lifeline.

But the man in red who sat in the flaming throne, was not so thrilled. Where did he come from? He—Draneeve, that was his name—asked himself as he stared at Veldora's rather odd appearance. His face was sharp and chiseled with perfection—almost too perfect to be human—and even if Draneeve himself was not from this continent, he was sure Veldora also wasn't.

I can't imagine my men having missed him in the campus, but he couldn't have gone through the barrier all by himself, right? His mind raced with thoughts and theories as he continued staring at Veldora. Before he knew it, his eyes were wide for reasons he didn't understand. Beads of sweat formed in his brows and dropped solemnly down his face.

Right?

As the laughter began to die down, Veldora's eyes locked with Draneeve's. For a moment, just a fleeting second, Draneeve could have sworn he saw something ancient and terrifying lurking behind those seemingly human eyes. A power that dwarfed his own, that made his flames feel like mere candles in comparison.

Veldora's smirk widened, as if he could read Draneeve's thoughts. He took a step forward, and silence descended upon the entire space. The men in black tensed, hands moving to their weapons. And Draneeve? He gripped the arms of his throne, knuckles white, as a single thought echoed in his mind:

What in the world have we stumbled upon?

~🐉~

It was entertaining to see them back away with just the intensity of my gaze, their hands trembling ever so slightly as they clenched their weapons and narrowed their eyes. I uncrossed my arms, making several of them visibly flinch and sending ripples of quiet anxiety through them. Oh, how quickly the tables can turn.

I relaxed my body and thrust my hand forward, palm open, toward the man sitting on that cool fire chair. And then I took a step. But that single, divine step brought me in front of the red-haired man instantly, energy crackling from my body in branches of black lightning.

My open palm gripped his head and effortlessly lifted him up from his fire throne, where he pompously sat before. He struggled against my grip, legs kicking wildly in mid-air, hands clawing at my arm. But it was futile. He is—no, they are—simply far too weak.

The man in black that stood beside the red-haired before took a step back and tripped, falling on his ass as he backpedaled away from me as quick as he can. I turned around, the red-hair still dangling in my hand as he tried to feel the ground. There were gasps and shouts from the men in black, but I responded in kind.

I thought of a storm—and by thinking it, I made it so.

Dark and ominous clouds materialized above us. Tendrils of black electricity danced within the clouds, occasionally reaching down to caress the ground with affectionate destruction.

In one moment, there was an army of men in black so still they might as well appear as black specks. And in another, pillars of lightnings shot to the ground. The flashes were blinding, the thunderclaps deafening. And when the light faded and the screams died away, the quadrangle was eerily empty.

There were so many lightning strikes in one single moment that each one found their mark as they vaporized each and every bad guy there was to kill. That was it. There was no trace of a massacre, no trace of death. No blood, no corpse. Just the silence of such a display and the scent of burning flesh that pervaded the space.

"What do you think?" I whispered to the ear of the red-hair, who I graciously and so generously gave a first-row seat to my show of might. "Was it everything you hoped for when you decided to play the villain today?"

The man's only response was a choked whimper. I couldn't help but chuckle. This is the first time I'd had the opportunity to really flex my powers in human form. I turned my wrist slightly, and the red-haired man's neck made a resounding crack as his whimpering died down.

I released my grip and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

"Ah!" I gasped. "I forgot about the part where I interview the big bad and destroy their hideout."

I cast my gaze toward the barrier where the students and faculty were imprisoned. Their faces showed awe, fear, and uncertain hope. They had no way of knowing if I was their savior or if I represented an even greater threat than what they had faced before.

"Well, it is what it is."

But it wasn't over, because there were still men in black inside the barrier. I descended down the elevated stage and made my way to the barrier slowly, every step resonating the echo of a distant thunderstorm.

As soon as I arrived, I lifted my right hand. I caressed the barrier tenderly with two of my fingers. Then three. Then four. The men in black within watched anxiously as I smiled at them. Then five of my fingers touched the barrier, and it quietly shattered.

Piece by piece fell to the ground below, sending the students to a panic and the faculty to attend to them—to try and make them calm down and stay still. I took a step, and a man in black stammered backward. He looked behind, where there was a slightly different man than the rest.

"L-Lord Lucas, what should we—" He was engulfed in flames. No, that's not my doing. It was the boy behind the crowd. He walked forward like an angry chihuahua. The first thing I noticed was his pointy half-elven ears, then how his face looked like he inhaled two dozen kilos of marijuana.

Flames ignited in his hand as he made a show for it, boosting the morale of the few remaining terrorists as they got into formation. "I won't die here! I will ascend and become—" The boy—Lucas—didn't get to finish his sentence.

Divide.

The world tilted to the right in his view, losing all support. His face screamed why, still unable to comprehend what happened. Then realization arrived too late. He saw his limbs sliced off so cleanly like hot knife through butter.

It must've been maddening for him, seeing his own limbs spewing and spraying out blood like a fountain right in front of him, while he's unable to run or even move with his arms and legs gone. I saw the last ember of light fade from his eyes.

I turned around, facing the students and faculty huddled to a corner. A girl, wearing a distinctive black uniform and appearing older than most of the other students, walked up to me. She had red hair tied on her back, and she tried her best to carry herself with dignity—but only appeared clumsy.

"Hello…" She began awkwardly, trying to meet me in the eye, but anxiety would strike her body as soon as she did. I just stood there. To the outside, I appeared to be waiting for what she wanted to say, but it wasn't true.

It was me who didn't know what to say.

All my practice on the way here and my rehearsed lines or whatnot flew straight out of the window. So many eyes boring into me—expectant, fearful, and hopeful. This is the part where I yell them the tales of my courage! Of my heroism! But no! I just stood there like an idiot scratching the back of my head.

"I… I am Veldora," I muttered, stuttering embarrassingly. My right hand was still stuck scratching my hair and I turned my head left. "It looked like you could use some help, so I sorted it out for you."

Yes!

I, for all my majesty and power and wisdom as the revered dragon of storms and chaos, did not know the reason why I could talk just fine in impromptu conversations and not in times like these where I needed to show off my coolness the most. I don't even want to talk about it.

The red-haired girl, meanwhile, just looked at me with a dumbfounded look on her face. It's like she just saw a lion meow, or a bear bark the sound of a Pomeranian-Shih Tzu mix dog. Would she stop looking at me like that?

...…

...

…

The student body had calmed down, and I refused to talk to anybody. I appeared to be standing aloof atop the elevated stage, just watching the clear sky while thinking about battles beyond mortal comprehension. But it wasn't anything grand as such, I was just—as much as I hate to admit it—sulking.

Then, a boy arrived. He caught my eye not in the way he looked, but because of the strangeness I felt in him. He had auburn hair and azure eyes. He seemed young, younger than most of the people here, but he was undeniably the strongest. I can feel it.

We met eyes for an instant, and then I knew for certain. This is no boy, I thought, narrowing my eyes at him. He broke eye contact immediately and went to attend to an unconscious and injured elf with silver hair, concern and worry in his face.

Moreover, that fox in his head…

I felt a ripple in the air. I turned my gaze upwards, then down on the body of the half-elf lying down the quadrangle, lifeless, armless and legless. I walked until I was next to the corpse. The students and faculty who were attending to each other looked at me, confused. They've eased up around me but they won't be for long.

Three specks of yellow, white, and brown lights appeared in the night sky. They shone like stars and for a moment, everyone believed they were just that—suspended stars shining brightly in the sky. But they weren't, and I knew that from the start.

It wasn't long before everyone noticed it was approaching closer and closer—faster and faster—when they dropped their handful of bandages and other goods to back away to safety. The professors facilitated the retreat and assisted the students who were farther away than the rest.

Then, with a thunderous boom, the lights crashed into the ground just a few meters away from me. A cloud of dust and debris shot into the air, shrouding everything in a hazy fog. As the dust settled, three silhouettes became visible, standing in the crater where the lights had landed.

The trio all wore white military uniforms with golden details and they had red capes draping over their shoulders. Two men, one woman. One man had platinum hair and was nearly as tall as me, but he was more jacked. The other had brown hair, slimmer, shorter, and had dark skin. The woman was the most attractive and felt the most powerful. She had fine white hair and black eyes that reflected no light.

She was the type who didn't need to flaunt her strength—it was simply understood.

The platinum-haired man looked at the man lying limbless and lifeless before me. He took in the sight with wide eyes as he gritted his teeth and looked at me with incredible malice. Nerves bulged in his forehead and mana seeped out of him like an ocean.

"Are these two brothers, or what?" I muttered under my breath as I looked at the broken corpse below me. The resemblance in their reactions, their aura, it was almost comical.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the tension. "I-It's the Lances!" a student screamed, and a wave of cheers erupted from the crowd of students and faculty still huddled behind what little cover they could find. The sound of their hope rising was almost pathetic, but I could appreciate the spectacle.

The dark-skinned man—a dwarf, I assume—wasted no time. His hands began to glow with orange mana, and from the earth, massive golems of rock and molten magma emerged. The dwarf directed them with ease, commanding them to form a protective line and escort the students and faculty to safety.

"Impressive magic," I said, clapping my hands together slowly in mock applause. A smirk tugged at my lips.

Their faces still remained impassive. The only exception was the platinum-haired man, who looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm. His skin had flushed red, and I could practically hear the blood pumping through his veins as his rage bubbled dangerously close to the surface.

"And what's next?" I provoked.