Chapter 45: Sinners
Both Lydia and Niel froze for a moment, staring at the dragon.
"Did that dragon just talk in my head, or is it just me?" Lydia asked, eyes locked on it.
"Apparently it did — I heard it too." Niel turned toward the dragon. "Hey. Can you talk?"
"Certainly not aloud, though I can communicate telepathically with humans and monsters alike," the dragon replied, directing its thoughts toward Lydia next. "Hmm. Would you mind letting me go? Let’s talk."
Lydia glanced at Niel, and he glanced back, then she released her hold. The dragon settled slowly to the ground and shook itself out.
Niel noted, with some interest, that Dreece’s unique skill had no effect on the dragon at all — though there were more pressing matters to sort through first.
He and Lydia exchanged another look, both clearly full of questions, though neither seemed sure who should go first, or which question mattered most.
Lydia broke the silence with a sigh. "You’ve got plenty of questions too, I’m sure. Let’s start with the obvious ones."
Niel nodded, and she turned back to the dragon. "First — how did you just do that, and if you’re not some mindless beast, why keep attacking humans?"
The dragon lowered itself flat against its belly and huffed a short burst of flame from its nostrils. "You might want to sit down for this."
It was strange enough that they’d ended up listening to the very dragon they’d been sent to kill — but with the Church already suspect in both their minds, they sat, legs crossed, and let the dragon begin.
Over four centuries ago, dragons ruled the human world as the apex of the food chain, marked SS-threat class.
But they weren’t invasive. They kept to forests and caves, far from human settlements, feeding on monsters and smaller beasts. An unspoken, mutual peace held between the species — until human civilization began expanding, encroaching on dragon territory instead of managing its own growth the way the dragons had managed theirs.
That was the spark that lit the conflict. Humans began hunting dragons, and dragons retaliated in kind, razing villages and kingdoms in return. The war dragged on for nearly two decades, and because dragons deliberately kept their own numbers small, that restraint became their undoing.
Overwhelmed by sheer human numbers, the dragons dwindled fast, and the survivors went into hiding. By then, humanity had already decided dragons were mindless monsters, and rather than let the remaining few simply vanish, they hunted them down and captured the young ones instead — subjecting them to cruel experimentation. It was hell, unrelenting, and one by one the dragon race was wiped out, save for a handful kept alive purely for study.
Over the following centuries, the experiments grew colder still — less about discovery, more about indulging in the pain and mystery the dragons represented.
One by one, the remaining dragons died, until only three were left. Even that didn’t stop the humans.
Then, one day, an experiment meant to shift dragons into full human form and back — a hybrid mutation, part dragon, part human — went catastrophically wrong. That was roughly a century ago.
The failed experiment tore a hole through space itself. After countless failed attempts, the humans finally managed to seal it, but not before it claimed the lives of two dragons — the one forced into human form, and the hybrid.
Even after the portal closed, the damage had already been done. It ushered in an entirely new era — the demon invasion.
Portals began opening across different places and times, and human-like beings with horns crossed into this world, sparking the first great demon war — far more devastating than the war with the dragons had ever been.
But that chaos gave me my chance to escape. It took decades to heal, and knowing I was the last of my kind broke something in me.
I burned with rage, waiting for the moment to act. When I finally found the strength, about a decade ago, I turned it on the humans near this mountain — my mountain. Then the hero Aurelian came to their defense and wounded me badly enough that I had to heal all over again. When word reached me that he’d died, I was ready to pick the fight back up.
But this time, the rage never burned quite as hot as before. I’ve crossed paths with a few humans since who shifted something in me — though they’re far too rare, set against the whole of human civilization.
I am Draken. The last of my kind. And humans took everything from me.
The silence between them stretched longer than either expected. The real monster in this story had never been the dragon — it had always been humans. A faint, deeply satisfied smile touched Niel’s lips. Not for what had happened to the dragon, but for the path he’d already chosen for himself.
He rose slowly. "That’s genuinely tragic. I always wondered why only one dragon was left, and where all those portals between the demon realm and this world actually came from. Humans really are disgusting. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. Not even slightly."
Lydia stood as well, eyes still on the dragon. "I’ve got one more question. Who funded the experiments?"
The dragon lifted its head. "Isn’t it obvious? The Church."
Niel and Lydia turned to look at each other, and almost instantly the pieces clicked into place. The Church had protected the dragon as long as it stayed a raging, mindless threat — but the moment its attacks turned calculated, they’d started worrying it might expose the past they’d buried so carefully.
Both the portal’s true origin and the extinction of the dragons had always been a mystery the Church guarded fiercely — a secret worth a fortune to keep sealed shut.
That realization led straight to another. The dragon’s death could be pinned neatly on its "rampage," less violent than its last one, sure, but violent enough to justify killing it while the Church still controlled the narrative. If it stopped attacking on its own, though, the fear was that the truth might surface without them.
There was no scenario in this where whoever killed the dragon walked away clean. It was the last loose thread from their past, the final truth left to bury.
"So what do we do now?" Lydia asked, looking at Niel.
Niel met her eyes. "How do you feel about humans right now?"
She stared at the ground in silence for a moment, then back at the dragon, and finally answered. "Disgusted."
A slow smile spread across Niel’s lips as an idea took shape. He despised humans. The dragon clearly did too. And whatever her reasons, Lydia wanted nothing to do with them either. It was, in every sense, the perfect alliance.
He looked at her. "What if we formed something together — one goal. The fall of both humans and demons."
Lydia’s expression sharpened. "And why would I sign up for that? I already told you — I’m not sacrificing my life for someone else’s cause, and I’m not carrying anyone as dead weight. I work alone."
Niel let out a short laugh. "This isn’t about saving each other or being someone’s burden. It’s an alliance built on shared goals, nothing more."
He stepped closer, stopping a foot away. "I intend to burn this world to the ground. You intend to survive it. When the smoke clears, wouldn’t you rather be standing on the winning side of whatever’s left?"
Lydia stared at him, then broke into a mocking laugh. "You. Burn the world down. And how exactly do you plan on pulling that off?" she managed between breaths.
Without another word, Niel drew his blade and severed his own left hand — and before she could even react, he triggered her Divine Healing, regrowing it in an instant.
Lydia stared, speechless, the only word she could manage a stunned "How?"
Niel smiled. "That’s part of my secret. I won’t ask you to share yours, and I won’t hand over mine — that’s the nature of this alliance. People with matching goals, nothing more. Though you’ve already caught a glimpse of a few of my tricks, haven’t you?"
Lydia ran back through everything she’d seen — Teleportation, Split, the healing, even the flames. There was clearly more to him than he was letting on, and that mystery only pulled her in further.
"If you actually want me convinced," she said, "show me one trick that doesn’t have an easy counter."
Niel studied her for a moment, lips curving, then shifted — into her. A flawless copy, down to the last detail.
Her shock cracked into a grin, then a laugh that sounded closer to genuine excitement.
"Color me impressed. You’re saying you can be anyone?" She paused, voice dropping. "Is that plain face even your real one?"
"Not even close." Niel shifted again, into his demon form, horn rising from his forehead. "I’m a demon heir."
Lydia’s expression only sharpened with interest, as though she’d just been handed something rare. She didn’t know what came next, but something in her had already started buzzing with anticipation.
"Tell me — what’s this alliance called, and what’s your actual name?"
"Haven’t settled on a name for the alliance yet. But you can call me Faceless."
"A title, huh? Then call me Lady Death. And for the alliance—" she stretched her hand toward his, "—I say we call it Sinners."
"Sinners it is, then," Niel replied, shaking her hand.
Just then, the dragon rose to its feet and shook itself out before shifting shape. In its place stood a man with long black hair reaching his waist and crimson-red eyes—looking entirely human as he muttered:
"Well then. I’d be honored to be part of this alliance. What name should I bear?"