Dragons were not always the feared and revered rulers everyone knows. In fact, in a past long, long forgotten, they were nothing more than prey for beings far stronger than them. However, they managed to develop an extraordinary racial ability: the power to share their memories and pass down their most valuable experiences to their descendants. This way, while other species had to experience life to learn, dragons were born virtually as adults.

  With this advantage, they gradually overcame their cruel beginnings and rose to the top of the power chain. But even when they no longer had to fear others, dragons developed a peaceful and cautious nature. The legacy left by their ancestors reminded them to be wise and not abuse their power—unlike those other races that had disappeared over time, remembered only by dragons thanks to their inherited memories.

  With this attitude, dragons came to be regarded as wise and venerable beings, to the point where speaking ill of them was severely punished by different races. After all, they were incredibly powerful creatures who lived tranquil lives and, when their wisdom was sought, they did not hesitate to offer guidance. Of course, there were always a few reckless fools with a death wish who dared to offend them; in those cases, they were swiftly eliminated by dragons, and even after death, they were scorned by all races.

  But as eons passed, things began to change. Some dragons stopped passing down their ancestral memories, deeming them unnecessary. Thus, the young who grew up without this heritage became intoxicated with their power, and little by little, their once-honorable lineage devolved into a caste of arrogant despots who killed for pleasure. Yet tormenting the weak was not enough for them, and with no enemy to challenge them, they turned their claws against their own kind.

  As expected, internal conflicts divided the dragons, creating an opportunity for those races that once feared their might. They were no longer facing an invincible, united force of dragons, but rather powerful individuals—difficult to kill, yet not impossible to defeat. Most importantly, if someone slew a dragon, they no longer had to face the wrath of the entire species. But dragons, blinded by their own arrogance, did not even consider these threats worth their attention. To them, if a dragon perished at the hands of another species, it was simply because they did not deserve to live.

  Wars between dragons spread across the universe, indiscriminately destroying planets and creating more and more enemies. Until, at last, calamity knocked at their door.

  Powerful beings from various races united with a single purpose: to exterminate the dragons.

  On the brink of extinction, many dragons fought bravely to the very end, while others, for the first time, knew fear and fled—hiding across different planets in the hopes of escaping their relentless hunters.

  It was in this crucial moment, when the fate of dragons hung by a thread, that the Judgment Guardians made their appearance.

  Some of the oldest dragons had passed down the origin memories to their descendants, and it was these very descendants who, upon witnessing the decline of their species, devised a plan: to migrate to a distant place where they could once again live in peace.

  United by the same purpose, this group fought hundreds of wars to rescue the few dragons that still lived. It was not easy, but after countless sacrifices, they managed to make the hunters cease their pursuit. After all, dragons were no longer a real threat. They had once been an empire no one dared to challenge, but now they were nothing more than a rebellious faction—an inconvenience at best. If they ever reunited, eliminating them would require an expensive war, and no one was willing to sacrifice so many lives for a conflict that offered no real benefits.

  By the end of these events, millions of mighty dragons had been reduced to just a few hundred. It was then that the Judgment Guardians led the survivors to a new home. There, they settled, and over thousands of years, their numbers once again grew into the thousands. Generation after generation, the Judgment Guardians took on the responsibility of guiding, protecting, and judging their kind to prevent another catastrophe. A task far from easy, for some dragons still ventured to other planets and, away from the safety granted by the Guardians, were hunted for the valuable materials their bodies provided.

  These were the memories passed down to the young dragon—a direct descendant of the Judgment Guardians. Through them, Kairon understood that, over time, the title of Judgment Guardian had ceased to be just a rank and had instead become a distinct race of dragons—those who bore the responsibility of protecting their own. He also discovered something else: the name his parents had given him.

  His true name was Xal'azir. "Xal" was the name borne by the first dragons and an ancient term used to designate those capable of changing fate. "Azir" was his father’s name—a dragon revered for his wisdom and courage. By giving him this name, his mother had hoped he would follow in his progenitor’s footsteps. Furthermore, "Azir" meant "forger" or "creator," carrying the hope that its bearer would have the power to shape the future of his kind.

  Yet, despite now knowing his origins, Kairon still had no idea how or why he had ended up in this place. Nowhere in the memories he had received did this city appear. And if someone were to ask him which name he preferred—Xal'azir or Kairon—he would choose the one given to him by his human companion.

  According to his friend, "Kairon" was a name worthy of someone born to rule. However, the young dragon doubted that was true. Even though his mind was constantly being fed by the experiences of his ancestors, at that moment, he was nothing more than an innocent hatchling—an easy prey to deceive. He was only a few hours old.

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  That said, Kairon sounded far better to him than Xal'azir.

  Kairon turned his head to observe the young human walking absentmindedly behind him. Everything about his appearance was incredibly fragile. The dragon was certain that, even in his weakest state, just after hatching, he could have killed him with a simple swipe of his claws. He still remembered the anger and frustration he had felt when a young Dravon attacked him. Fortunately, he had managed to react in time and cast a barrier over the human; otherwise, he would have died from that single blow.

  He had risked his own life to snatch him from the jaws of death, and on that very same day, he had to drag him back to the safety of the city. It was frustrating that his companion didn’t seem too concerned about his own life… or maybe he just wasn’t very bright, Kairon concluded after a moment of thought. Then, he watched as the human attempted to manipulate the "esra", but that energy rejected him entirely, as if it were poison. He tried to explain that if he wanted to control the esra, he would have to be reborn, but the human couldn’t understand his words.

  Then, one day, he came up with the absurd idea of accompanying him on a hunt. With his weak body, that was basically seeking death, so Kairon refused immediately. However, the human didn’t give up, and, worn down, the dragon eventually relented. Something he would come to regret.

  Even he was surprised when that rock turned out to be an adult Krunthar. Fortunately, he managed to save both the human and himself, but ever since that incident, his companion had dedicated his body and soul to trying to understand the esra. Kairon, however, knew it was impossible.

  He had no idea exactly where they were, but he did know one thing: that human, so ridiculously weak, was destined to perish. He wanted to help him, but he himself was just a young, inexperienced dragon. All he could do was search for a solution in the memory of his ancestors… and he found one. But it wasn’t the solution he had hoped for.

  To allow his companion to manipulate the esra, he would have to kill him. Kill him… and himself. Then, they would both have to rely on their luck and willpower to survive the tribulation of life.

  Fortunately, this place had a esra node, and much of that energy had solidified into rocks. At the very least, he had enough esra to carry out the ritual. However, the risk was enormous. The greatest danger fell upon him, as he would have to conduct the ritual, but he trusted that he would survive. His human companion, on the other hand—he doubted he would make it.

  That was why, despite having found a possible solution, he chose not to mention it.

  Days passed, and Kairon watched as the human’s complexion darkened until his mental fortitude finally shattered. With a somber voice, he said that he was giving up.

  The young dragon fell into deep thought. Now he regretted not attempting the ritual sooner, for considering the human’s current state of mind, this was the worst possible moment to do it.

  After a tired sigh, he made his decision: at the very least, he had to try. Even if doubt lingered in his heart, even if the risk was high, he had to give his companion the chance to change his fate. After all, that responsibility was etched into his very blood… and his blood was white—the symbol of the Judgment Guardians.

  Now, they were heading toward the esra cluster, ready to fulfill their destinies.

  Upon reaching the site, Kairon instructed the human on what he needed to do. Then, he began the ritual. The original purpose of this ritual was to strengthen the bodies of dragons born excessively weak. Thanks to their strong wills—fortified by inherited experiences—they were willing to take the risk. However, in a strange—almost bizarre—thought, Kairon realized that he could also use it for his current goal.

  The esra stones began to disintegrate, releasing a dense mist of purples and reds that moved through the air as if it were alive. One by one, they vanished until only the two the human held in his hands remained. At that moment, the esra current surged furiously toward Kairon. His body swelled abruptly… and then exploded. Flesh and bone dissolved in an instant, reduced to a dark liquid.

  Up to this point, the ritual was proceeding as expected. He just had to endure the pain and remain conscious—absurd as it sounded—in order to reform his body.

  However, this ritual had not been performed for its original purpose, and what happened next was nothing more than a theory in the young dragon’s mind.

  The purple liquid, spread across the ground like a pool of venom, moved under Kairon’s conscious control. Like a tide, it surged toward the esra stones still clutched in the human’s hands. The moment the fluid touched his skin, the man grimaced in pain… and in the very next instant, he exploded just as the dragon had.

  It had all happened in a single second—from the moment they sat before the stones to the moment their bodies vanished.

  On the silent ground of that place, a scene worthy of a horror movie was unfolding. The purple liquid attempted to devour the red one, but the latter rejected it, repelling it as if they were oil and water.

  That was the reason the human couldn’t even sense the esra: his body outright denied the existence of the energy that governed this plane.

  Kairon, trapped in the threshold between life and death, manipulated his esra-saturated blood, forcing it to slowly consume the red blood. However, the process took far longer than he had expected. The red liquid fiercely resisted merging with the purple. The seconds dragged on, agonizingly slow, until, at last, the final drop of red vanished.

  In that instant, Kairon let out a spectral sigh. He could feel the pull of death growing stronger, tugging at his consciousness with increasing force, and he had no idea how much longer he could hold on.

  Quickly, he divided the liquid sprawled across the ground into a 60-40 ratio, letting the larger portion flow toward where the human had been while the rest returned to his own position.

  He had done his part. Now, it was up to the human to decide whether he would change his fate or remain nothing more than a lifeless puddle forever.

  Like a massive purple jelly, Kairon guided the liquid to reform his body. Very slowly, his shape began to regenerate. Even as he focused on the task, he cast a worried glance at his companion… and realized he had underestimated him.

  The human was also rebuilding himself.

  Watching as his form began to take shape, Kairon couldn’t help but relax—just a little.

  He still couldn’t be sure the ritual would succeed, but if his companion clung to life as he had so far, then when he opened his eyes… he would be reborn as something entirely new.