On The Other Side: I Quit Being Human

"Ara…you seem surprised."

The blue-haired bastard smiles in amusement as he observes the look on my face. I am sure I don't show much on my face, but I guess he can still see the confusion in my eyes. He tilts his head and then frowns lightly. This time, it is his turn to be confused.

"You have spent most of your time with a Demonic Dragon—how are you surprised to meet a Pure Dragon?"

"Demonic Dragon?"

"Ah, so you are not aware of it."

I frown as I rack my brain to think about the possible Demonic Dragon, making it clear to the blue-haired bastard that I don't know who it is. I stop racking my brain the moment I hear him chuckle. He shakes his head faintly as I turn my gaze to him and waves his hand nonchalantly. He tells me it is not worth musing over.

"Anyway, whether you know or you don't, it doesn't matter. Although we are both Dragons, our power works differently after all. That is the reason why you can't find any semblance between my presence and that Demonic Dragon's. Still, if you were aware of the Demonic Dragon, you wouldn't be surprised to meet a Pure Dragon."

As he chuckles, I take time to analyze his Mana. Something is different about it. It lacks—I can't find a better way to express it—a vessel. To get Mana, you can either let your body naturally produce it or process the Mana that nature provides. Either way, to influence Mana so it has your characteristic, you have to contain it within your body.

The Mana the blue-haired bastard is exuding is not similar to Nature Mana, but it doesn't feel like belonged to him. There is a sense of incongruence between his self-manifestation and the Mana. I can't even say he is exuding Mana. It is more appropriate to say the Mana merely lingers around him.

It is not concentrated in a certain spot. I try to look for its source, but I can't find it. It is just flooding the cave as if it is a natural occurrence—it is not. An empty hole won't become a pond if rain doesn't fall.

"You are already dead, aren't you?" Therefore, I quickly conclude.

"What a quick and precise deduction!" The blue-haired bastard smiles excitedly. "It is quite rare for a Demon to be this observant. They tend to think nothing will matter as long as they can destroy it after all."

"I am but a mere wisp of intent stuck in the Mana filling this cave. I am no different from a mere projection, but you don't have to worry. I have what you are looking for."

"What am I even looking for?"

"My legacy—it is real!"

The blue-haired bastard doesn't seem to get that we didn't come here knowing he would be here. We were expecting an old Relic, not a legacy from a sissy blue-haired bastard claiming himself to be a Dragon. Now that I think about it, I can't tell what part of him makes me irate. It just feels natural for me to hate him.

"I know the idea is quite repulsive, but trust me it will work," the blue-haired bastard assures. "Hating on a Pure Dragon is an instinct for a Demon. We were quite defiant to both Gods and Demons after all."

Dragons are told to be creatures who defy both heavens and hell. They live in solitude and live life at their own pace, unbothered by the happening in the world. They don't listen to Gods or Demons. They live their lives the way they want and decimate those standing in their way. They are equally hated and loved by the people of this world.

As far as I am concerned, not many of them survived the Ancient Gods Era. Hunted by both Demons and Gods, they ran away and hid until the era ended. They started showing centuries later but no longer cause problems like they used to. They are categorized as Legendary Beasts, but they are not as fearsome as they were in the past.

Of course, I am talking about the nameless Dragons. The notable Dragons whose names I remember are different. Each of them is a fearsome Dragon that even Ilschevar has to be careful about. The chance might be small, but it is not impossible that they are still alive and hiding somewhere.

"Who are you?" I ask, mildly curious.

"Azhdaha."

"…."

I am quite surprised by the answer, so I have to do a double-take just to make sure the blue-haired bastard is not joking. He merely quirks an eyebrow, seemingly amused by the lack of trust.

Azhdaha was said to be one of the greatest rulers of the sea. Even Jörmungandr, the absolute ruler of the sea didn't dare to invade its territory. I don't know how much truth the story contains, but it is merely accepted as folklore since it happened a long time ago. No one knows for certain what happened in the Ancient Gods Era.

To put it simply, Azhdaha is one of the named Dragons. I can't tell how great he was, but he was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"Why did you end up here?"

"Well, Demons and Gods hated our guts back then, you know? I was one of the most sought Dragons and after sustaining a fatal injury from a battle with one of the Great Demons, I hid here. Time passed and I already died by the time I knew it."

Azhdaha shrugs nonchalantly as he recounts his story. I can't feel a shred of regret or desire to undo what happened. He might think he deserved what he got or he just doesn't care about it. No one can figure out the way Dragons think after all.

"This bastard stumbled upon here by a coincidence, then." I gesture at Azhdaha—the vessel he occupies.

"Well…it wasn't the case." Azhdaha rubs his head sheepishly. "I thought I had found the perfect inheritor for my legacy but I was wrong. He was but a coward—"

"What did you do to him?"

"I manipulated his Teleportation Point."

"You bastard…" Millonia mutters in disbelief and annoyance. "You were the reason why I couldn't find him to kill him with my hands!"

"Calm down, World Ender. The injuries you inflicted on him killed him in the end," Azhdaha retorts nonchalantly.

Knowing what she is in everyone's eyes doesn't mean she is fine with the fact. Millonia takes a step back as she bites her lower lip uncomfortably. Azhdaha smiles as he looks at the uncomfortable Millonia and it makes her want to run away. Fortunately, putting my hand on her lower back to slightly push her forward is enough to calm her down.

Azhdaha turns his gaze to me and hums in interest. "Our encounter is a coincidence, but I like to call it fate. I didn't look for you, but you still found your way to me." He chuckles deeply. "If it is you, I believe it is possible."

"Just to let you know, I won't avenge you even if you ask me politely. If it is one of the requirements to receive your legacy, I will gladly decline it," I declare.

"You can lie, though."

"I prefer not lying when I can. It's the only noble thing I can do."

Azhdaha stares at me as if I am a lunatic preaching about the end of the world. I won't even defend myself. With all the dirty things I have done, I have no right to talk about doing something noble. It is as absurd as a killer telling people to treasure life. It doesn't align with what I do.

Still, is there a rule that says you shouldn't kill to save? Is there a rule that says you should be rich to give? People may not see it kindly, but I don't need to be a saint to be truthful to someone. It is a rare occurrence since I often find myself in situations where lying is beneficial, but I don't find being truthful repulsive.

Scratch that. That is not the reason why I will refuse Azhdaha's legacy if he asks me to avenge him. I don't want to break a promise. When someone asks you to promise something, they depend on you. They don't only put their trust but also their hearts in you. It doesn't feel right to spit on that.

Of course, it only applies to people who never cross swords with me—literally or figuratively. I don't care about the feelings of the people whose death will ease my problem.

"What an interesting Demon…" Azhdaha mutters. "Well, I have made up my mind. You shall be the inheritor of my legacy." As if knowing I am going to retort, he quickly adds, "Of course, without the need to promise me you will avenge me."

"I will accept it gladly." I nod my head and then quirk an eyebrow. "Then, what are you going to give me?"

"Bone marrow."

"Am I supposed to eat it?"

"No. I will replace your bone marrow with mine."

I blink my eyes as I wonder how he will do it. Everything that I got so far has always been 'added' to my body instead of 'changing' a part of my body. It has always involved the process of absorbing, which is not complicated. It confuses me; but when I remind myself this is a magic world, everything makes sense.

Azhdaha might just cast a Spell that will trigger the procedure.

"Grit your teeth and believe in me."

At least that is what I thought until Azhdaha pokes his finger into my spine.