Chapter 85: Chapter 80: Quiet After the Storm

The Greenwood Forest was quiet again.

Not the tense, unnatural silence that had filled the forest when the hunters first arrived.

This was the quiet of recovery.

Morning sunlight filtered through the ancient canopy in shimmering golden beams. The towering trees—some thousands of years old—stood like silent guardians of the forest.

Leaves rustled softly in the breeze.

Birdsong slowly returned.

Small woodland creatures cautiously moved between the roots of massive trees.

Nature was reclaiming its calm a very calm atmosphere.

But the scars of yesterday’s battle remained.

The valley clearing where John had confronted the hunters still bore the marks of violence.

Several trees had been split or uprooted.

A long trench scorched into the ground marked where his abyssal breath had struck at distance.

Broken weapons and shattered enchantments were scattered across the earth.

Ballista bolts as long as spears lay half-buried in the dirt.

Fragments of enchanted chains glimmered faintly with dying magic.

Evidence of an ambitious hunt that had failed spectacularly.

—

High above the forest floor, Greenwood Village stretched across the massive trees like a network of suspended bridges and platforms.

Elves moved gracefully between the walkways.

Some carried tools.

Others transported bundles of wood and rope.

Repair work had already begun on several platforms damaged by the powerful gust created when John had taken flight.

Several young elves were clearly more interested in gossip than construction.

One whispered excitedly.

“Did you see the dragon yesterday?”

“I was on the southern watchtower!”

“He landed like a falling star!”

“No, it was louder than that!”

Another elf gestured wildly.

“The hunters tried to bind him with chains!”

“And?”

“They snapped!”

“Just like that!”

One older craftsman nearby groaned.

“Less talking, more hammering.”

“But it really happened!”

The older elf shook his head.

“That’s exactly why you should stop exaggerating.”

—

Meanwhile—

On one of the reinforced platforms near the eastern edge of the village—

John was resting comfortably.

The elves had quietly reinforced the structure after realizing the dragon had developed a habit of lounging there.

Even so, the thick wooden beams creaked occasionally under his massive weight.

The young black dragon lay sprawled across the platform like an enormous housecat.

His wings were folded loosely along his sides.

His tail hung lazily over the edge of the platform.

The tip of it occasionally flicked back and forth.

He looked completely relaxed.

Lythriel leaned against the nearby railing.

Her silver hair moved slightly in the breeze.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

One golden eye opened slowly.

John glanced at her.

“Enjoying what?”

“The attention.”

“What attention?”

“The entire village talking about you.”

John blinked.

“I assumed they already knew I existed.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Sylvara approached carrying a wooden tray.

Steam rose gently from several small cups of herbal tea.

“You became considerably more… famous yesterday.”

She placed the tray carefully on a nearby table.

John sniffed the air curiously.

“That smells nice.”

“It’s calming tea.”

“For who?”

“You.”

John looked mildly amused.

“Do I seem stressed?”

“No.”

“Then why the tea?”

Sylvara smiled gently.

“Preventative measures.”

Lythriel snorted.

“That’s wise.”

—

A moment later, Commander Aerion stepped onto the platform.

His posture was calm as always.

But his eyes remained alert.

“The hunters have fully withdrawn from the forest.”

Sylvara looked relieved.

“They’re gone?”

“For now.”

Lythriel crossed her arms.

“They’ll come back.”

Aerion nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

John didn’t seem worried.

“Of course they will.”

Lythriel raised an eyebrow.

“You sound like you expected that.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

John stretched his wings slightly.

The platform creaked loudly.

“Hunters don’t give up after one failed hunt.”

Sylvara sighed.

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It’s realistic.”

Aerion nodded.

“He’s right.”

—

Lythriel watched John carefully.

“You enjoyed that fight.”

John tilted his head slightly.

“A little.”

“A little?”

“You intentionally let them try their anti-dragon chains.”

John smiled faintly.

“I was curious.”

Sylvara frowned.

“That was dangerous.”

“They didn’t work.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It was the point for me.”

Lythriel groaned.

“You treat life-threatening situations like experiments.”

John shrugged.

“That’s because they usually are.”

—

Aerion folded his arms.

“There was something unusual about those hunters.”

John looked at him.

“Oh?”

“They were too well prepared.”

Lythriel frowned.

“You mean the enchantments?”

“Yes.”

Sylvara looked thoughtful.

“You think someone hired them?”

Aerion’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I suspect so.”

John’s tail flicked slowly.

“That would make sense.”

Lythriel looked at him.

“You’re not surprised.”

“I rarely am.”

—

A moment of quiet passed.

The forest wind whispered through the leaves.

Then Sylvara asked something unexpected.

“John… can I ask you something?”

John turned his head slightly.

“You usually do.”

She smiled faintly.

“…How old are you?”

Lythriel blinked.

“That’s actually a good question.”

John thought about it.

“In dragon years or human years?”

“Either.”

John considered carefully.

“…Less than a year.”

Both elves stared at him.

Lythriel’s jaw dropped slightly.

“…What?”

Sylvara blinked in disbelief.

“That’s impossible.”

John shrugged.

“Dragons grow quickly.”

“That quickly?!”

John nodded calmly.

“Relatively speaking.”

Lythriel pointed at him.

“You’re the size of a fortress.”

“Small fortress.”

“That’s not better!”

—

Aerion looked thoughtful.

“Rapid growth usually indicates an unusually powerful lineage.”

John smiled slightly.

“That’s one way to put it.”

Lythriel narrowed her eyes.

“You’re hiding something.”

John blinked innocently.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a dragon.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

“It’s a lifestyle.”

Sylvara laughed softly.

—

John closed his eyes again.

But inside his mind—

The familiar translucent **system panel** appeared.

—

**[SYSTEM STATUS]**

Name: John Davis

Race: Abyssal Black Dragon

Tier: **9 (High)**

Evolution Progress: **68%**

—

John studied the number carefully.

It had increased slightly after the battle.

Not dramatically.

But enough to notice.

Another panel appeared.

—

**[ATTRIBUTES]**

Strength: 9,820

Agility: 8,940

Endurance: 10,450

Mana Capacity: 12,300

—

His mana reserves had grown again.

The system continued.

—

**[Skill Evolution Detected]**

Shadow Domain → **Greater Shadow Domain**

—

John examined the description.

—

**Greater Shadow Domain**

Creates a large area where abyssal mana dominates.

Inside the domain:

• Enemy perception decreases

• Dragon abilities increase

• Mana regeneration accelerates

—

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Another update appeared.

—

**Dragon Fear → Improved**

Effect now scales with Tier difference.

—

John smiled slightly.

That explained why the hunters had struggled to even stand their ground.

The system then displayed the most important information.

—

**Tier 9 Progress: 68%**

Estimated threshold to Tier 10: Unknown.

—

John’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Then another notification appeared.

—

**Tier 10 Classification: Ascended Apex Entity**

—

The system expanded the description.

—

Tier 10 represents entry into the **True League of World Creatures**.

Entities of this tier influence ecosystems, mana flows, and regional balance.

Examples include:

• Ancient Dragons

• World Titans

• Celestial Beasts

• Primordial Spirits

—

John leaned back slightly.

Even for him, that category sounded… impressive.

But the system wasn’t finished.

—

Beyond Tier 10 exist higher classifications.

These entities operate on scales capable of altering continents.

Further data locked until Tier 10 is achieved.

—

John closed the panel slowly.

Still far away.

But closer than before.

—

Back in reality—

Lythriel was staring at him again.

“You’re doing that thing.”

John opened one eye.

“What thing?”

“The staring into nothing thing.”

“I’m thinking.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s usually true.”

Sylvara studied him quietly.

“You feel stronger today.”

John looked at her.

“You can tell?”

“Your mana feels… deeper.”

John smiled slightly.

“Good observation.”

—

Aerion suddenly spoke again.

“There’s something else.”

Everyone looked at him.

“I received a message this morning.”

Lythriel frowned.

“From who?”

“A northern elven settlement.”

Sylvara tilted her head.

“About the hunters?”

“Partly.”

“And the other part?”

Aerion hesitated slightly.

“…Dragons.”

John lifted his head.

“Oh?”

—

Aerion continued.

“They reported seeing something large flying over the northern mountains.”

Lythriel blinked.

“…Another dragon?”

“Possibly.”

Sylvara looked at John.

“Is that common?”

John shrugged.

“Not really.”

Lythriel crossed her arms.

“That’s concerning.”

Aerion nodded slowly.

“The description didn’t match John.”

John looked mildly amused.

“That narrows it down.”

—

Sylvara looked worried.

“Do you think it’s dangerous?”

John thought for a moment.

“Probably.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Reality rarely is.”

Lythriel sighed.

“You say that way too casually.”

John grinned.

“I’m a dragon.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It’s a lifestyle.”

—

The group laughed quietly.

But Aerion’s expression remained serious.

“If another dragon has entered this region…”

He looked toward the distant mountains.

“…Then the balance of the forest could change.”

John stretched slowly.

His massive wings unfolded slightly.

“Well.”

Everyone looked at him.

“That sounds interesting.”

Lythriel rubbed her temples.

“Why is everything interesting to you?”

“Because most things are.”

Sylvara smiled.

“You’re going to investigate, aren’t you?”

John blinked.

“I might.”

Lythriel sighed.

“I knew it.”

—

For now though—

The dragon remained where he was.

Resting lazily on the platform.

Enjoying the warm sunlight.

Listening to the quiet sounds of the forest.

But deep inside—

His evolution continued slowly advancing.

Tier 9 was nearing its peak.

And somewhere beyond the mountains—

Something powerful was moving.

Something old.

Something that had long ago stepped into the **True League**.

And sooner or later—

John would meet it.

—

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