Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 91: Stepping into the Fight

There were battles one could read.

Clashes decipherable through the movement of bodies, the tension in the shoulders, the bend of knees, the eyes of the fighters anticipating the next move. There was a rhythm in those exchanges, a logic, a dance... a form of intuitive understanding.

But what Isaac was watching now...

Wasn’t a battle.

It was a storm, frozen in time.

**

The noise never ceased.

An uninterrupted stream of metallic clashes, as if two blades collided with every heartbeat... except here, there were dozens per second. Bursts of mana crackled briefly around Yvan, forming a halo of pure, refined, razor-sharp energy.

The opposing figure... invisible.

Not blurry.

Nonexistent.

But Isaac knew it was there. It existed in the spaces between strikes, in the shadow cast by a blade too fast to see.

Yvan, at the center of chaos, held firm.

He didn’t retreat. He didn’t move in panic.

He danced.

His long silver blade carved arcs through the air with near-impossible fluidity. He wasn’t counterattacking. Not yet. He was protecting the space around him like a defensive fencing master: every motion was economy. Control. Intuition.

Isaac watched in place, his gaze transfixed.

— "I... I can’t join in," he whispered quietly.

His heart beat slowly, heavily. His mana core pulsed, ready to unleash his speed, his flight, his power... but he didn’t move.

One step too far, one extra ripple of magic, could throw off Yvan’s rhythm.

And right now... a second of imbalance would get him killed.

**

Isaac felt every muscle in his body taut. He was a fighter. He had killed. He had survived. He had grown strong.

But never had he been so close to something he simply could not follow.

Each impact rang through his bones.

Every metallic CLING was a life saved by a hair’s breadth.

And still... the enemy’s figure never appeared.

— "What are you fighting, Yvan?..." Isaac murmured, eyes narrowing. "And how... are you still standing?"

Yvan pivoted a quarter turn, without warning, raising his blade in a perfect arc, intercepting three strikes from different directions in the same half-second. The shockwave made the air vibrate; the snow around him lifted as if an invisible explosion had struck the ground.

But he didn’t flinch.

Yvan’s gaze remained fixed forward.

And Isaac saw... that calm.

That inner silence.

Yvan breathed in sync with his opponent.

As if he could feel the enemy in the pressure of the air, in the distortions of mana, in the imperceptible silences between two clashing blades.

Isaac grimaced slightly, hand tightening around the hilt of his katana.

He could activate [Seismic Strike]. Invoke [Flight]. Ignite with mana. But he didn’t.

— "No... not yet. If I break his rhythm, he’s dead. And so am I."

He stepped forward. Just one step.

Ready. But cautious.

The air trembled. His own mana urged him to join the battle. His draconic nature growled, the scales beneath his skin twitching. His instinct demanded he fight.

But his reason... kept him still.

And then, he saw it.

A movement.

A trace, a pulse, the space twisted by a centimeter.

A leg.

An elbow.

An eye.

The silhouette had missed its angle. A crack.

Yvan struck.

— "Radial Fall," he whispered.

His sword became pure light. The arc of his arm merged with a spiral of raw energy, and a blade of invisible mana slashed in a wide arc.

But at the very last millisecond... the enemy vanished.

Not dodged.

Withdrawn.

Isaac felt a bead of sweat trail down his temple.

Yvan leapt back, boots skidding through the snow, landing right beside Isaac. His breathing was heavier now, but his eyes remained sharp as ever.

— "You saw it?" he whispered.

Isaac gave a slow nod.

— "Barely. A flicker. He’s making mistakes... but correcting them too fast."

— "It’s no ordinary monster. It reads movement like a swordsman. It reacts like a predator... and it anticipates."

Isaac rolled his shoulder, pain still radiating from the earlier impact.

— "We go together this time?" he asked.

Yvan nodded.

— "No interference. If I go alone, you stay. But if you come... keep the rhythm. I won’t slow down."

A thin smile spread on Isaac’s lips.

— "I’m not an F-rank anymore, Yvan."

— "Prove it."

They launched together.

**

The impact was immediate.

The silhouette returned in a burst of wind, a trail of black mana surging from their right. This time, Yvan anticipated it. His blade traced a perfect arc that deflected the first strike.

Isaac reacted in the next millisecond, [Flight] activating with a sharp burst. His wings propelled him laterally as he slashed a diagonal Shidensen toward the figure’s hip — but the enemy unraveled into shadow, pivoting out of range.

The figure countered.

A flurry of three strikes. One skimmed beneath Isaac’s arm, the second cut into his side, the third was blocked by Yvan’s guard — without him even looking.

Isaac winced, pain flaring from his flank.

— Tch... He’s fast, even for me.— And still, I’m slowing him down, Yvan replied.

They adjusted mid-motion. freēwēbnovel.com

Their battle carved a circle of strikes, feints, and maneuvers where a single misstep could mean death. Isaac handled the skies, the flanks, the lateral angles. Yvan held the center—the heart.

POV: The Group

The group moved forward in an eerie silence, escorted by the yetis.No hostility. No hatred in their gaze.Their former "enemies" now glided around them on their icy ramps with smoother, gentler control—like sentinels.

At the front, the yeti draped in a gray cape, still wielding his crystal staff, walked without a word.

— I can’t believe this... Victor murmured. We were seconds from being slaughtered, and now we’re getting an escort?

— And they talk. These things talk, Charlotte muttered, still dazed.

— Quiet. We’re getting close to something, Léon whispered.

The plain opened into a vast frozen chamber, at the center of which rose a throne of black ice, massive, carved directly from frost.

Seated on it—a gigantic yeti.

Taller than the others. Broader. His fur was layered with icy crystals, and his eyes—two pale, nearly luminous orbs—slowly lowered toward them.He wore a partial bone mask, aged and polished over time, covering his jaw.

The mage yeti stepped forward, taking his place beside the throne. He raised his staff and cast his communication spell once more.

A vibration spread through the air, and the deep, slow voice of the yeti chieftain echoed in their minds:

— Humans. Welcome to our prison.

A chill ran down every spine.

— This dungeon... is not our territory. It was given to us as a place of confinement. Of use.

Sophie stepped forward slightly, uncertain:

— Use...? By who?

The mage translated again.

— By the race of the one who attacks your kind.

Silence.

— They force us to play the role of guardians. To kill the humans who enter. But we never wanted this. We were once free...

Charlotte furrowed her brow.

— It’s... exploitation? They’re using the yetis as tools in the dungeons?

— We are prey and jailers both. And today... one of their assassins has been sent here.

The clan chief slowly rose from his throne. He was colossal.But he radiated no hatred.Only a calm sorrow.

He took a step forward, his massive frame outlined in the white light of the frost, casting a long shadow on the black ice below.

His voice echoed again in their minds—slow, deep, and filled with ancient weight.

— Once, we had a world. A realm of mountains, of pure blizzards, of cold skies. A world you would never have found.

He slowly raised his pale eyes to the misty ceiling of the dungeon.

— But they came. The nameless ones. The silent hunters. They defeated us. Chained us. And scattered us through the portals you call dungeons.

His fist clenched, tight with bitterness.

— They broke us. Used us. Caged us. And every time a portal opens, they command us to kill. You.

Victor stood with arms crossed, jaw clenched. He muttered:

— If we hadn’t stopped you... you would’ve killed us.

The yeti nodded slowly.

— That is true. But know this: we are no longer theirs.

Charlotte stepped forward.

— And that... thing? That silhouette? What is it, really?

The mage raised his staff, broadcasting the chieftain’s answer:

— A scout. A "Reaper." They send them to test your defenses. To kill your leaders, your tacticians, your gifted.

— A preparatory phase... Léon murmured. For what?

— The invasion, the chief answered bluntly.

A dreadful silence fell.

The yeti bowed his head slightly.

— We’ve had enough. Too many of our brothers have been sacrificed. Too many years spent dying in endless labyrinths for masters who never show themselves. If you will accept our help... we will help you drive it out. And close this rift.

Sophie answered without hesitation:

— Yes. Help us. We accept.

The group nodded, each in their own way, wiping away their fear, their doubt.This was no longer a cleanup raid.

It was a war for survival.

The chieftain turned to his kin.

— Prepare yourselves.

The yetis slid into a formation with military silence, each taking their place around the chief. Some began blessing their ice-forged blades. Others pounded their chests in an ancient rhythm.

And then, without another word, they moved.

**

The march was swift.

Guided by the creatures’ instincts, the plain became a highway of frost, and the team of hunters followed—panting, legs worn, but hope reignited.

After several minutes, they reached an overlook—a rocky ridge above a frozen basin.

And there, they saw it.

Down below, Isaac and Yvan were still fighting. Still. Blades flashing. Mana sparking. Trails of energy slicing the air.

But this time, Isaac was wounded. Blood coated his flank. One of his mana wings slightly cracked.

Yvan was still holding rhythm. Exhausted, but still precise.

And the silhouette... still invisible.

Charlotte turned to the yeti chieftain, breathless:

— It’s now or never.

The chief nodded.

One of the yetis stepped forward.

From beneath his cloak, he pulled a horn—carved from glacial crystal. Massive. Majestic.

He raised the mouthpiece to his lips.

And blew.

The sound that rose wasn’t just a signal.

It was a war cry.

Deep. Icy. Ancient.

It echoed across the plain like a voice from the past.It shook the ice.It made the silhouette raise its head.

Yvan paused mid-strike. Isaac turned.

Their gazes lifted to the ridge.

And they saw... an army of yetis in formation.

And behind them...Their human allies.

— WTF !!