Chapter Text
He, Kim Rok Soo, is terribly tired. Everything aches. It does not help that he tripped over a low branch due to the lack of light and his hurry.
He wants to stop, his muscles are protesting.
Kim Rok Soo is running as fast as his short legs can carry him. The black dragon is curled in his arms. If he stops now to rest, the chances of them getting caught are incredibly high. There's no doubt that the Marquis Stan's successor, Venion, already sent guards after the two children— a human and a dragon.
He, who used to be an adult man, is now a child. Rok Soo has spotted his reflection in the gleam of the knives that hung on a rack.
He assumes he looks the same as he did when he was seven years old. He can't be sure. His uncle never bothered with taking photos of him growing up and any photos his parents took were lost when his uncle took him in.
Rok Soo was surprised when he saw his reflection. Normally, you don't just turn into a child overnight. His surprise doubled when he realized he transmigrated into the fantasy novel he fell asleep reading, The Birth of a Hero. This just so happened to fall upon one of his rare days off too.
It isn't long before Kim Rok Soo pieced together that he transmigrated in a novel.
——
When he first opened his eyes in this fantasy world, he is chained to the wall and next to him is a sleeping black dragon, also chained. There is a bed off to the side but is unoccupied. In their current situation, it is safe to assume the bed is neither of theirs. Then there is a bunch of weapons commonly used for torture on the opposite side of the room.
At first, he thought this was a dream, a kidnapping or maybe a prank planned by his team. These assumptions are ruled out once the door opens, spilling light into the dim room. The dragon opens his eyes, a brilliant blue.
Four people walk in.
A man with a buzz cut and a thin scar over the left of his face. He does not acknowledge Kim Rok Soo or the black dragon. As soon as he steps foot into the room, he zones in on the torture weapons.
Two women step in next. They are dressed like maids. They pull a table from the side and start placing fancy dishes down. The dishes look and smell delicious. Rok Soo can't remember the last time he had a meal that didn't take him less than ten minutes to make.
Next is a young man, his presence makes the air tense. The women placed dishes faster. His blond hair ends just above the collar of his shirt. His green eyes are locked on the chained individuals as though they are prey and he is the predator. He sits down at the prepared table and clinks a fork against a plate twice.
"Y-Young master!" The man exclaims, he, along with the maids bow towards the proclaimed young master.
"Leave." The young master orders the maids. He does not spare them a second glance as they run out the door. "Now, begin."
The man with the buzzcut begins walking to the young dragon with a whip in his hands. He brings the whip down on the dragon. The dragon does not react besides staring the man down with so much fight in his eyes. Rok Soo likes that gaze.
Anger pools at the bottom of his stomach. It's enough to make his blood run hot.
Kim Rok Soo remembers.
The young master in front of him is Venion Stan. The second son of Marquis Stan. A power hungry nobleman who hired a hitman to paralyze his older brother, Taylor Stan. He'd do anything to stay in favor of the Marquis.
Venion Stan is a psychopath. He tortures a dragon and eats in front of him as he is tortured and finds it entertaining. He eats obnoxiously to make sure the dragon hears him and lets him know who is in control.
Kim Rok Soo has transmigrated in a novel he was reading, The Birth of a Hero.
The black dragon who is four years old in the novel looks way younger than a four year old. Kim Rok Soo assumes he is one or two years old. Did he transmigrate before the novel starts?
Kim Rok Soo will have to wait until Venion Stan leaves to make an escape with the black dragon. He will not leave the baby dragon to endure two more years of torture.
Looks like it's his turn with the whip.
Distantly, he felt like he's forgetting something important.
—
"Ahhhh! That bastard…!!"
Taylor Stan glances worriedly at his friend, Cage. She is a priestess of the God of Death who is able to communicate with the God.
She is clutching her head and cursing the God of Death. Which is nothing too out of the ordinary. If he wasn't so desperate to get them to travel quite a bit to get to the edge of a forest. It wasn't the easiest journey considering Taylor's wheelchair isn't designed for such crude paths.
A carriage would've been easier if only it didn't draw so much attention.
"I'll be back. That motherfucking piece of trash…" Cage started walking inside the forest, alarming Taylor, who can't bring his wheelchair inside the forest without getting stuck.
The God of Death never talked to Cage outside of her sleep. So it is a surprise when she heard his voice directing her towards this forest, specifically this edge, despite there being a pathway for campers. She'd rather him not talk to her at all.
She's only listening to the bastard because he's giving her a headache. He's been pestering her non stop.
"What….the actual fuck."
As she pushes away a couple of branches, Cage is able to make out the small frame of a child passed out on the ground. His feet caked in dry blood. His body is covered in dirt and scrapes.
This child reeks of death.
The God of Death is silent.
"Is this why you wouldn't shut up?" Cage asks seemingly no one. She knows God could hear her. She didn't get a response. She isn't expecting one either.
After making sure the boy has no serious injuries, she picks him up in her arms. She does not pay attention to the blur that sits on top of him.