Theon looked around—the cave was littered with bones. Piles and piles of them. Bones of beasts, creatures, and... humans.
A chill ran down his spine.
He noticed a faint light seeping in from a stone doorway far ahead. As he cautiously stepped forward, a faint sound caught his attention.
Tap.
He turned toward the noise, his eyes scanning the shadows. His gaze landed on an enormous dragon skeleton lying silently among the rubble. Motionless.
"Hmph. Must've been my imagination," he muttered and turned back toward the light.
CRACK!
A deafening sound echoed through the cavern.
His heart skipped a beat.
He spun around—eyes wide in disbelief—as the dragon skeleton slowly stood up. Even without flesh, even without eyes, the creature seemed to sense his presence.
It let out a deep, unholy growl and charged.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Theon screamed, turning on his heel and running. "A dead DRAGON?!"
The skeletal beast was impossibly fast. Within seconds, it was upon him. Desperate, Theon yelled, "Absolute Destruction System, activate!!"
Nothing.
"DAMN IT! I forgot—I'm not a celestial anymore! I'm just... a mortal!"
Just then, a system notification began to appear in front of him—but before he could read it, the dragon slashed at him with a massive claw. Theon barely managed to grab a large bone from the ground and block the strike. The impact sent him flying. He crashed to the ground, coughing blood, barely clinging to life.
As the dragon reared back for the final blow, Theon closed his eyes.
"Seriously... I died in the celestial realm... got reincarnated into this pathetic body... and now this? Dying again?"
But... nothing happened.
Silence.
Theon slowly opened his eyes—and what he saw left him stunned.
The dragon... was kneeling. Shaking. Bowing its massive skull before him.
"What... the hell just happened?" Theon breathed.
He struggled to stand, confused and bleeding, then remembered the unfinished notification. "Wait… the system…" he muttered. "But I don't have a system anymore, do I?"
He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "No... this body... it has the Aura System. That useless system…"
He called out, "Aura System!"
With a faint flicker, a system panel appeared before him—dark, ominous, and ancient in design. A single notification flashed:
[Activating Aura of a Mythic Vein Cultivator…]
Theon narrowed his eyes, puzzled. "Right... the Aura System gives off a deadly aura. No combat skills, no strength... just intimidation."
He looked at the trembling dragon and muttered, "But that doesn't make sense. Even if I was at the peak of cultivation, beasts can't sense human power... especially not a dragon."
He clenched his fists. "And dragons… they know no fear."
He fell silent.
Then a memory returned—one from the celestial realm.
Back when time was born, when creation first bloomed... The Supreme Ruler of the Celestial Realm—the Celestial of Creation—had crafted dragons.
But not for beauty.
Not for power.
He created them... for destruction.
Why? No one knew.
Not even the celestials themselves.
Dragons.
In the Celestial Realm, they were known as the most foolish beasts of all. While every other creature trembled at the thought of challenging a Celestial, one dragon rose to power—growing so absurdly strong that even the Celestials themselves acknowledged his presence. They gave him a title…
"The Celestial of Dragons."
A laughable title, really. Though he was granted the name, he was still far inferior to actual Celestials.
And then… the idiot dared to attack them.
Theon scoffed at the memory. "I remember… I was the second-generation ruler of the Celestial Realm. I killed that arrogant beast with a single blow."
He smirked, proud of his former self.
But that smirk quickly vanished.
His face turned pale. The weight of reality crashed down on him. "But now… I've lost everything," he whispered bitterly.
Then he shook his head. "No. That's not what matters right now."
Turning his attention to the kneeling dragon skeleton, Theon asked, "Why are you kneeling before me?"
The dragon's voice rumbled softly through the air, trembling. "Because… you are strong."
Theon raised an eyebrow. "But beasts can't sense a human's strength… especially dragons."
There was silence for a moment.
Then the dragon replied, its body visibly shaking. "I am… a human soul trapped in a dragon's body."
Theon's eyes widened in shock.
His mind raced. A human soul in a dragon's body? No wonder the beast knelt. That meant he could recognize aura, feel intention—things normal beasts never could.
He glanced at the skeletal figure again, then thought to himself with relief, Good thing the dragon doesn't have eyes… If he did… one look at me lying half-dead in a pool of blood, and he'd instantly realize I have zero power.
Just as that comforting thought passed through his head— THUD—
He collapsed.
Unconscious.
The dragon, massive and skeletal, remained bowed low. Though he had no eyes, no flesh, no breath—his human soul could still feel the immense pressure Theon had emitted moments ago. That overwhelming aura... it was like staring into the abyss of a true god.
He dared not move.
Inside, the dragon trembled.
"Forgive me, mighty one," he said in a low, echoing voice. "I didn't know… I swear on the remnants of my soul—I didn't know…"
There was no response.
Only silence.
Theon lay behind him, completely unconscious, face-down in the dust—mouth slightly open, a drop of blood clinging to his lip.
The dragon gulped nervously—or at least made a motion as if he could. "I was blind. A fool. Please, show mercy. I only acted out of instinct. I thought… I thought you were just another foolish intruder."
Still no answer.
He remained bowed, unmoving.
"My life is yours to take, should you will it."
Still, not even a cough. Theon didn't twitch.
The dragon trembled even more. "S-such terrifying silence… so calm... Is this what true strength is?"
Behind him, Theon's leg gave a small, involuntary spasm.
The dragon gasped silently. "He… he's suppressing his power to test my sincerity!"
He lowered his head even further to the ground. "Truly a being of unfathomable will!"
And thus, the dragon continued to pray for mercy—bowing, shaking, reverent—completely unaware that the great cultivator who had humbled him was currently lying in a very ungraceful position… out cold.
After some time, Theon slowly opened his eyes, groaning faintly. His body ached all over—broken, bruised, and barely holding together.
As he sat up, he saw it—the massive dragon skeleton still kneeling before him, head bowed low like a disciple before a god.
Theon blinked in disbelief.
"Huh? He's still there?"
Pain throbbed through his chest. He gritted his teeth and muttered,
"Damn… I'm too injured. I need herbs—something to heal me. But where do I even get them in this death dungeon?"
He cleared his throat, straightened up with all the dignity he could fake, and said in a strained but commanding voice,
"Hey! You… lowly creature!"
The dragon immediately began trembling again, bones rattling.
"M-mighty one! I told you… I'm not a real dragon! I'm a human soul trapped in this cursed corpse! Please!"
But inside his mind, the human soul grumbled,
"Who the hell calls a dragon a lowly creature? Even if this body is dead, it's still a DRAGON. Dragons are a thousand ranks above humans… This guy's got guts…"
Theon, ignoring the internal protests of his trembling new pet, asked bluntly,
"Do you have any herbs?"
The dragon stiffened. "H-herbs…?"
"Medical herbs, genius! You deaf too?"
The dragon didn't dare question further. "Y-yes, mighty one. I… I do."
"Then move your bony ass and get them!" Theon snapped.
Moments later, the dragon returned, laying out a small collection of glowing plants beside Theon. Theon looked at them and frowned.
"What the hell are these? All of them are just level 6?" he scoffed, poking at them with disdain.
The dragon blinked (figuratively) in utter disbelief.
"Level 6… 'just'? These are the best herbs I've gathered over hundreds of years in this tomb! Even top sects would slaughter for one of these!"
Narrator:
What the dragon didn't know was that the world outside had changed dramatically. Time had flown since his soul was trapped. Maybe 100 years… maybe far more. Academies had replaced sects. The cultivation world had advanced, evolved, upgraded. Only one ancient sect—the Ancient Ruler Sect—still stood in the Central Continent, holding onto the past like a dying flame in a new era.
Back in the cave, Theon crossed his arms, eyes narrowed.
"You sure you don't have anything better?"
The dragon shivered, feeling the malicious intent rise from Theon like a devil breathing down his neck.
"N-no, mighty one… I swear… I don't have anything else…"
Theon smiled—slowly, devilishly.
"Oh? Are you sure?"
Though the dragon had no eyes, he could sense that grin. That wicked, soul-tickling grin.
Inside his mind, the dragon whimpered,
"Oh Celestials… If you're listening… please save me from this demon…"
Little did he know… the "demon" in front of him was once a Celestial himself—one of the highest beings in existence.