Chapter 1

From the border, desperate screams could be heard.

"Quickly!" In a young man's arms, a dying person was visible. Golden blood gushed from his ears, nose, and mouth. "Damn Osarus," he mumbled, coughing up clots.

The emergency team rushed to assist the victim. At that moment, a seven-foot shadow loomed over them.

"I told you, this is no game, little dragon," he said with a tone of disappointment, shaking his head.

The wounded man's gaze burned him, a fury capable of moving mountains. "Who the hell is playing?" he spat more blood.

The imposing shadow turned, giving him his back. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, damn it!" the wounded man shouted, grabbing his shoulder to make him turn and face him again. A fist headed straight for his face.

His head moved with the impact of the punch; with a subtle gesture, he wiped the red liquid from his mouth.

"I told you..." As he uttered those words, his gaze, previously serene, transformed into pure anger. "...this is..." A crushing pressure, like a falling castle, loomed over the other. Gradually, it became impossible for him to breathe; he couldn't articulate a single word.

The walls began to tremble. The staff knelt, whispering pleas: "Regent, please, stop!" Tears streamed down their faces uncontrollably.

Finally, the Regent concluded, "...is no game."

As he finished speaking, the room returned to normal. Those present, taking great gasps of air, regained the ability to breathe. The terror in the young man's eyes was palpable: "Damn commoner, you'll pay for this!" he thought between gasps.

Hundreds of miles from Imperia, the dragon city, lay the Dark Lands, the Frontier of Oblivion. In these lands, there is no law to protect its inhabitants.

The magnificence of the dragon race was undeniable. Their unparalleled blood allowed them to subject the laws of the world to their whims, except in the Dark Lands. There, everyone was simply mortal.

The Dark Lands are the largest continent in the world, teeming with materials, gems, and minerals. The gods, blinded by greed, tried to take possession of them, but none gave in, and the laws prevented their blessings from touching the ground.

The gods Imperia and Airipem fought battles for centuries until each established their lineage on opposite ends. The descendants of Imperia were blessed with the blood of the dragon, while those of Airipem would have the will of the Osarus. These two races hated each other by instinct.

The kingdom of Imperia was vast, with mountains, rivers, and forests, and the natural laws favored the dragons. The manipulation of the wind was an innate ability in the race. A human body could undergo a partial transformation that increased its blood flow and musculature, and what looked like a cape on its back would turn into wings up to three times its size.

The will of the dragon allowed them to subdue any adversary weaker than the user, and through attunement, they controlled the wind. Imperia was divided into three sectors: the outer skirts of the continent, home to the red wings. They were known for their red blood and common origins. Although the entire race possessed the will of the dragon to bend enemies, their attunement was the lowest of the three classes, but their physical strength rivaled that of royalty.

The red wings were considered the lowest rung in the social hierarchy. In the inner section resided the nobles of golden blood; the golden color of their wings came from the blood that ran through their veins. Their attunement was more advanced than that of the red wings, although their physical strength was inferior.

In the castle lived the black blood: the royal blood of the dragon. Their attunement and physical strength abilities were on par with both classes. Their dominion in Imperia dated back more than five thousand years, since the first dragon king, the Dark King.

On the border between Imperia and the Dark Lands were advanced platoons from the citadel. Red-winged dragons were abundant. At the front, some nobles with a high level of attunement.

The dragon race was militarized and obeyed the order of the strongest. Subduing an individual was fundamental to their culture. When the will of a stronger user was imposed on a weaker one, kneeling and obeying was the only option. The laws of the world dictated it.

Although the border shared territory with the Dark Lands, most of the advanced forces were still under the protection of the dragon god. The small area reported from the other side was controlled by the red-winged regents, who held a rank similar to that of a noble.