Serendipity (Veldora x TBATE)

There was tension in the air as Veldora stood motionless with a faint, almost lazy smile on his lips. His hands hung loosely by his sides, and his gaze was calm as he watched the three Lances prepare to attack. He didn't speak—there was no need to. His expression alone was enough to provoke them, his complete lack of concern driving them to the edge.

Bairon Wykes, the platinum-haired man, could no longer hold back. Channeling a burst of mana to his legs, he shot forward like a lightning bolt, his body blurring as he closed the distance between him and Veldora in an instant. His fists were wreathed in lightning-deviant mana.

But Veldora didn't flinch. At the last moment, with a speed that was almost inhuman, he sidestepped Bairon's strike, the fist sailing harmlessly past him. Veldora's footwork was smooth—effortless.

He shifted his weight and spun around Bairon. Bairon's eyes widened in shock as Veldora delivered a swift palm strike to his side, sending the platinum-haired man skidding across the ground with a grunt of pain.

Olfred Warend, the dark-skinned dwarf, came attacking next. There was no order on what to do with the blonde-haired man, but he was dangerous—frighteningly so. Olfred roared as he charged forward. Each punch he threw left behind a trail of heat, the force of his blows shaking the ground beneath them. Veldora met Olfred's power head-on, not with magic, but with pure physical might.

The two exchanged blows at blinding speed, their fists colliding with thunderous impacts. Veldora weaved through Olfred's attacks with ease. He blocked a flaming punch with his forearm, then countered with a sharp knee to Olfred's gut. The dwarf grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, but he didn't falter. He swung again, this time with more precision, trying to catch Veldora off guard.

But Veldora was relentless. He ducked under the swing and swept Olfred's legs out from under him with a quick low kick. The dwarf crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, the heat from his molten fists fizzling out as his concentration broke.

"Phew," Veldora exhaled. "I'm getting the hang of this whole martial arts thing! Easier than I thought it would be."

The lances didn't know what to say. How could they? Veldora not only outclassed them in power, but he was already performing at a level of skill that exceeded theirs in a short amount of time, and yet he's saying he's just getting the hang of it.

It's even more disturbing if you think about the fact that this is his first time experiencing this form of combat. It's a clear demonstration of how true dragons really outclass all lifeforms in every single category, even if it is not obvious in the case of the eccentric and "good-for-nothing" Veldora.

From above, Varay Aurae descended as she launched a barrage of gigantic icy blades toward Veldora. Each blade was a pinpoint of precision as they left an icy mist in their wake, designed to cut through anything in its path.

Veldora smirked, watching the enormous blades of ice approach. With a sharp pivot, he danced between them, his movements too fast for the eye to see. The blades sliced through the air where he had been just moments before, but none found their mark. He didn't even break a sweat as he dodged the onslaught with casual ease.

Varay's eyes narrowed as she pressed forward, closing the distance. She slashed at Veldora with a blade of ice, but he caught her wrist mid-swing, his grip firm yet almost gentle.

For a moment, they locked eyes.

Then, with a single twist, he disarmed her, sending the icy blade shattering into the ground. Varay staggered back as she realized just how outmatched they were.

Bairon had recovered and was charging again. Olfred was back on his feet, magma pooling at his hands as he prepared another assault. But Veldora simply smiled—a calm, confident smile that unnerved them even further.

The three Lances attacked in unison, coordinating their strikes with incredible efficiency. Bairon—now possessing a spear—aimed for Veldora's head, while Olfred's molten fists targeted his midsection. Varay moved like a shadow, her icy blades cutting through the air toward his back.

But Veldora was untouchable.

He flowed through their attacks like a gust of wind, dodging, blocking, and countering. Every thrust Bairon threw was deflected with minimal effort, every molten strike from Olfred was redirected with a simple twist of Veldora's body. Varay's blades never came close to landing as Veldora slipped past her with a speed that left her breathless.

In one swift motion, Veldora grabbed Bairon by the arm, twisting him into the ground with a heavy thud. He sidestepped Olfred's molten fist, delivering a precise kick to the dwarf's ribs that sent him tumbling back once more. Varay's blade came from behind, but Veldora caught it between his fingers, snapping it effortlessly before delivering a quick palm strike to her chest that sent her skidding backward.

They were powerful—each Lance was a general of the continent's united armies—but Veldora was simply too much. He was toying with them. His smile never wavered, even as he effortlessly outmatched their combined strength.

But just as Veldora was about to finish the fight, a sudden ripple of magic washed over the battlefield. A booming voice echoed through the air, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Cease all combat immediately! By order of the Council!"

The Lances froze in their tracks, their eyes wide with shock. Agents of the Unified Council appeared. The lead agent, a stern-faced woman, stepped forward and held up a glowing scroll, the seal of the Council emblazoned on its surface.

"This battle is over," she declared. "No further bloodshed is permitted."

Veldora lowered his hands, his smile fading slightly. He glanced at the trio of Lances, who were breathing heavily. For a moment, he considered continuing the fight—just for fun. After all, he was not bound by anything and he answered to no one. But then he shrugged and stepped back, the arrogant and playful smirk returning to his face.

The Lances lowered their weapons reluctantly. They knew they had been spared a humiliating defeat, but the look in Veldora's eyes told them all they needed to know— they had been utterly outmatched without their opponent even breaking a sweat. With the order given, the desolate quadrangle grew silent. Veldora gave them a final wave, still smiling that infuriating smile, before turning his back on the trio as he began walking away.

He had proven his point, and for now, that was enough. He wasn't arrested, nobody here can even come close to being capable of restraining him. Besides, it's not like he really did anything wrong. He just walked away, fading into the distance like the winds he embodied.

~🐉~

I'm in a fairly good mood, so I let those three live. I closed my fist and stared at it, a haze of blue and gold appearing as I strengthened my grip. It was a good practice match for my self-made and applied martial art moves.

I'm going to name it Veldora-Style Death Stance, I thought as I released my fist and relaxed my posture, walking in the less-crowded streets of the floating city of Xyrus.

I read a fair bit of books about this world, so I think I can get my way around even if I left the city. In contrast to this quiet and dark district, though, the central circle of the city was bustling and loud. They're still not finished with the whole accident, then.

I continued walking until I entered another district. This time, it was filled with red lights and had more people walking around despite how late it was into the night. I noticed the people—men and women—glancing at me as I walked by. Some were leaning on the doors of a building, some sat on stairs while smoking cigarettes, and some wore no clothes as they peeked out of the windows from the upper floors of buildings.

One woman threw herself at me and wrapped her arms around mine. "Mister! Would you care for a free service?" She asked me.

I didn't like being touched for a lowly reason such as sex so I shoved her away, not responding to her question. She let out a disappointed moan as she watched my back go farther and farther away.

Weirdos, I thought as I hurriedly left the district. Some sense of discomfort made me quicken my pace for reasons I didn't understand.

...…

...

…

Where am I going to stay?

I, the storm dragon, am homeless and penniless.

I'm absolutely broke.

I only realized the peril I am in now as the towering clock tower of the city rang as it hit the mark of three in the middle of the night. I had no need for physical sustenance—eating, drinking, sleeping, or even breathing. But it brings comfort to the heart when you know you have a roof under you, one that you can confidently say belonged to you.

This must be how humans feel when they buy and settle on their own homes. By this point in time, the whole city was quiet. It seemed the situation at Xyrus Academy was put on hold at the moment. But don't misunderstand me, nuh-uh. I am alone, but I am definitely not lonely. Definitely not, I reaffirmed myself, somewhat confused. Right?

Enough of that.

I was in human form, so I'd like to live a civilized life as I continue to do so. Gone was the violent and rampaging Veldora, and in came a civilized and polished Veldora—that's my vision as I inhabit my human form. But how do I become rich? How do I live a life of financial independence where I can just go to every place and buy anything I want without checking price tags like some super-rich mysterious uncle?

It's actually easy if you think it through. There were so many ways—gambling, drug business, stealing, etc. But! I want to be rich by doing what I do best. And then it struck me as I stood before a building. I really am a serendipitous dragon—I thought as I smiled widely, excitement coursing through my veins.

Adventurer's Guild.

~🐉~

The three lances—Varay, Olfred, and Bairon—walked through the glorious halls of the council's floating castle. The walls were lined with ornate carvings and shimmering banners. The three's footsteps echoed against the marble floor. On either side, guards stood at attention, their expressions stiff as the trio passed by.

They had been healed of their wounds—from the smallest splinter to the fractures that had throbbed with pain. They also changed into a new set of clothes.

It had been a full day since their encounter with the enigmatic blond-haired man. A day to reflect, to try and make sense of it all. But no matter how much she thought about it, Varay couldn't fully comprehend why they had attacked him. Was it truly because of Lucas Wykes' death, Bairon's brother? She glanced at Bairon, his jaw clenched tight as he walked, but she knew the truth. That wasn't the reason. Not really.

Insubordination will not be tolerated—that's Varay's creed as a general under the council's command. Therefore, she had not any reason to attack the man. The more Varay considered it, the more it seemed like a matter of instinct—an instinctive response to the overwhelming presence that man exuded.

There was something about him that unsettled her, something that triggered an automatic response to fight. It wasn't just his power; it was the way he carried himself, as if the rules of this world meant nothing to him. Before she knew it, all three of them were ganging up on one man. But as unbelievable as it was, they never emerged victorious—and the opposite would've happened if the fight continued.

Despite all her training, her discipline, her strength, and even the artifact's blessings, that fight had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. From the first moment their battle began, she had felt it—that gnawing sense of dread deep in her bones. It wasn't just his speed, his power, or even his skill. She had never felt so utterly outmatched.

Three of Dicathen's most powerful mages—three Lances, generals of this continent under the council's direct command—reduced to scrambling in vain against a single unarmed man. A man who, by all rights, should have been crushed under their combined might. And yet, they had been the ones struggling to keep up. The outcome of that battle had been all too clear to her. They wouldn't have simply lost—they would have been utterly humiliated, if not dead.

Luckily enough, there was no one left in the quadrangle left to tell the tale, as Olfred's golems managed to escort everyone out before the situation escalated as it did.

"Tsk," Varay clicked her tongue, an act so uncharacteristic that it had drawn the heads of not only Bairon and Olfred but every single soldier standing on guard. But they didn't comment, they dared not. Varay Aurae was this continent's strongest—as far as they knew.

Moments passed in silence as they arrived before massive overbearing doors.

...…

...

…

"Excuses!"

Varay snapped from dozing off as she heard the sound of a glass shattering at the moment it made contact with her forehead. The cold splash of wine trickled down her face, staining her white skin a vivid crimson. Blinking away the shock, she turned to see the source of the commotion.

It was the dwarven king Dawsid Greysunders—breathing heavy gasps as he remained stood. The other six seated in the council meeting—the kings and queens of the dwarves, humans, and elves, as well as Supreme Commander Virion—looked at him with a scornful look.

The human king, Blaine Glayder, shot up from his seat in rage, practically making his way to King Dawsid.

"How dare you touch my lance you insufferable—"

"Stop it, dear!"

It was the usual scene in the council. On the public, they appeared to be the perfect definition of a unified government, but on the inside, they were anything but. Supreme Commander Virion, ever the mediator, rubbed his temples in frustration. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure. Then, he slammed his hand down three times on the table.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The arguing dwarven and human kings glared at each other before returning to their seat.

Varay, still wiping wine from her face, glanced around the room. The other council members—though silent—were clearly troubled. Commander Virion took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He cast a wary eye over the assembled leaders.

"Let's get back to the matter at hand," he said with forced calmness in his voice. "We have more pressing issues to address."