It had been two days since I opened my eyes in this cave. Two days lying on the rocky ground, staring at the jagged stones of the ceiling as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. My body wasn't recovering, not really; the burns on my arms, chest, and back still burned with every movement, and my muscles felt like they had been shredded and poorly reassembled. Raphael had told me I'd be fine in four days, but that didn't make the pain any more tolerable. I couldn't do anything but wait, trapped in this state of helplessness, with the echo of my own breathing bouncing off the walls.
Something strange had happened the day before, while Velgrynd was away—probably soaring through the skies or doing whatever it is True Dragons do. Raphael had dropped a bombshell that was still spinning in my head.
[During your confrontation with Velgrynd, when you passed out, you acquired a new Unique Skill.]
He had said, his voice as calm as ever.
I was so surprised I almost sat up, though the pain kept me pinned to the ground.
—"What? A new skill? Seriously? Give me the details, Raphael!" —I said, my voice cracking from a mix of excitement and exhaustion.
[Unique Skill: [Source of Life]. It allows you to recover 1% of your lost magic reserves per minute, even while at rest. It is a gift from the Voice of the World, granted for your survival against a higher-level entity. That is all for now.]
I blinked, processing his words. A skill that regenerated my magic reserves every minute was… incredible. It wasn't instant physical healing, but it meant I would never run completely dry, not as long as I was alive. I smiled weakly, grateful for something positive in the midst of this disaster.
That had been yesterday. Now, as I lay here, bruised and with burns throbbing, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. I couldn't believe I had fought Velgrynd. A True Dragon. One of the most powerful creatures in this world, according to what I knew from Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken. I even joked out loud, my voice echoing faintly in the cave.
—"A miracle I didn't drop dead, huh, Raphael? Facing Velgrynd and still breathing… I guess I'm tougher than I thought."
[Your survival had a 3% probability. It is not a miracle; it is a statistical anomaly,] Raphael replied, as dry as ever.
I laughed, though the movement made the burns on my chest protest. But then, as I stared at the rocks, my mind began to drift beyond the fight. If Velgrynd was here, alive and in full form, that meant something huge. Veldanava, the Star Dragon, the creator of this world, was probably still alive. I had been reincarnated before the main events I knew —before Rimuru, before the great conflicts—. That also meant Rudra hadn't formed the Eastern Empire yet. This was a world in its early ages, a blank canvas full of possibilities.
I smiled with satisfaction, a spark of excitement cutting through the pain.
—"This could be interesting," —I murmured to myself, imagining what was to come. I was bruised, broken, and trapped in a cave with a dragon that almost killed me, but for the first time since I got here, I felt like I had an edge. Time was on my side.
Suddenly, the air in the cave began to heat up, a subtle but unmistakable change that made sweat break out on my burned forehead. I sighed, knowing what was coming. Velgrynd entered, her serpentine body gliding with a grace that shouldn't be possible for something so massive. The cave was enormous—ceilings as high as a cathedral, black rock walls stretching in all directions—perfect for housing her colossal form. Her crimson scales gleamed under the faint light filtering in from some distant crack, and the white spikes on her back brushed the ceiling as she passed.
Then, with a dull thud, she dropped something on the ground in front of me. It was a deer, huge, with antlers branching like tree limbs and a body that easily weighed more than I did. Blood was still dripping from a wound on its neck. Velgrynd looked at me with those golden eyes and spoke, her voice echoing in the cave.
—"Eat."
I looked at the deer, then at her, and let out a weak laugh, my dry throat scraping with the effort.
—"Raw meat? No thanks, I'm not that savage yet. Don't you have a campfire around or something?" —I joked, leaning against a rock to sit up a bit straighter.
Velgrynd tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with disdain.
—"Do as you wish, human. I don't care if you starve or not." —She reclined with a fluid motion, curling her body atop a natural stone platform, and closed her eyes as if my existence no longer interested her.
I half-smiled and replied, leaning forward despite the pain.
—"Come on, you're a dragon. Can't you do me a favor and light a little fire? You've got all that power, it'd be easy for you! Don't make me eat this like a caveman."
She snorted, a deep laugh that made the ground tremble.
—"Do you think I'm your servant? Cook your food with your own weak hands, pup. I won't waste my breath on you."
Before I could reply, Raphael chimed in, his tone carrying an unusual hint of mockery.
[She is correct. If you can't light a fire with your current abilities, perhaps you should reconsider your definition of 'savage.' Probability of her helping out of compassion: 0.4%.]
I sighed, louder this time, looking between the raw deer and the reclining dragon.
—"Great, now both of you are mocking me. What's next, a duet of insults? Come on, Velgrynd, just a little puff of fire. It won't cost you anything! Look at these burns, you've already made me suffer enough."
Velgrynd opened one eye, just enough to look at me with disinterest.
—"You suffer because you are weak. If you want fire, crawl and find it. Or eat it raw and spare me your whining."
—"Oh, come on!" —I insisted, pointing at the deer with a trembling hand—. "You're a fire dragon! This is like asking a bird to fly! Just a little bit, please. I'll pay you back someday, I swear!"
She closed her eye again, ignoring me completely this time, and Raphael added with a touch of sarcasm:
[Admirable persistence. Effectiveness: none. I suggest you look for dry branches and strike a stone against your broken dagger. Or accept the raw meat. Your choice.]
I sighed again, letting my head fall against the rock. Between a stubborn dragon and a sarcastic skill, it was clear I wasn't going to win this argument. But I didn't give up, not completely. I kept insisting, my voice echoing through the cave as I planned my next argument.
...
After several minutes of insisting, bargaining, and even pleading with a touch of sarcasm, I managed to convince Velgrynd. Amidst growls and mockery, she finally let out a snort of annoyance and released a small burst of fire toward a pile of dry branches that had been scattered throughout the cave. The flames caught instantly, crackling with a welcome heat that lit up the black rock walls. I smiled triumphantly, though the effort of the argument left me gasping.
But now there was a new problem: I still couldn't move. My body was still a mess of burns and exhausted muscles, and every attempt to get up ended in a useless tremble. Velgrynd watched me from her reclined position, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
—"What's wrong, pup? Expecting me to feed you too?" —she mocked, her voice echoing with that blend of disdain and entertainment I was already getting used to hearing.
I sighed, defeated but not willing to give up. I let myself fall to the ground and began to crawl toward the deer, my hands scraping the stone and my legs pushing weakly. I was like a worm—pathetic and slow—but hunger drove me. The deer was a few meters away, its body motionless and heavy, and when I reached it, I stopped, panting from the effort. I looked at the nearest leg, leaned in, and took a tentative bite. The raw meat was tough and had a metallic taste that made me grimace, but there was no other choice. I clenched my teeth and pulled, trying to drag it with me toward the fire.
It was ridiculously difficult. The deer weighed a ton—or at least that's how it felt to my broken body—and every inch I moved it was a struggle. My arms trembled, the burns protested with every scrape against the ground, and the deer barely budged. I looked at Velgrynd, who was still lying down with her eyes half-closed, and tried again.
—"Hey, Velgrynd, one last favor? Could you at least push this a bit? Not all of us have claws the size of swords!" —I said, my voice broken by the effort.
She didn't respond. She didn't even open her eyes this time, just let out a soft snort that made the fire's flames flicker. It was clear she wasn't going to move a muscle for me. I sighed again, letting my head fall for a moment before pulling on the deer again, determined not to let hunger—or pride—defeat me.
...
Now I simply watched, lying a few meters from the fire, with the deer skewered on a twisted branch I had managed to stab into the ground as an improvised spit. The smell of burnt meat filled the cave, mixed with a less pleasant aroma: my own singed hair. I had been too close to the flames while trying to turn the deer, and a lock had paid the price. I touched it carefully, feeling the crispy ends, and sighed. At least the deer smelled good, its skin slowly browning as the fire cooked it. It was going to be just meat for dinner today, but after days without eating properly, I wasn't going to complain.
I turned my head and saw Velgrynd, still lying on her stone platform, her golden eyes fixed on the deer as the flames danced over it. A faint smile crossed my face, and I decided to break the silence.
—"Want a bite?" —I asked, my voice a little lighter despite the exhaustion.
She snorted, a burst of hot air that made the flames flicker, and looked at me with that blend of disdain and amusement that was already her trademark.
—"Deer meat? I'm not that desperate, pup. That's food for weak mortals like you."
I nodded, shrugging as best I could without the burns protesting too much.
—"Alright, your loss. But if you change your mind, there's plenty here. I'm not so selfish as to eat it all by myself. After all, you did hunt it." —I said, with a touch of friendly sarcasm as I gestured toward the deer with my head.
Velgrynd didn't respond immediately, just closed her eyes again, as if my offer didn't deserve more attention. But I noticed a slight movement in her tail, an almost imperceptible twitch, and I wondered if maybe she wasn't as uninterested as she claimed. I smiled to myself and looked back at the fire, letting the smell of the meat remind me that, at least for today, I had won a small victory.
...
I decided the meat was ready. The deer had taken on a deep golden hue, with juices sizzling on the surface, and the aroma was too tempting to keep waiting. I crawled a little closer and blew on the fire, trying to cool down the leg I planned to tear off. But every puff was useless; the fire was huge, the flames dancing with an intensity that left me breathless. I panted, exhausted from the effort, when suddenly the fire went out completely, leaving only a pile of smoking embers.
I looked back, surprised, and saw Velgrynd lying on her platform, her head turned to the side, refusing to look at me. A smile formed on my face, and I let out a soft laugh before teasing gently.
—"What, couldn't resist helping after all? Come on, have a piece. There's enough for both of us."
I crawled back toward the deer, still too weak to stand, and with clumsy effort, bit into the nearest leg. I pulled with my teeth until I tore it off, holding it with trembling hands. I took the first bite, and the flavor exploded in my mouth —wild, juicy, with a smoky hint from the fire—. But it was so hot it burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth, making me blow frantically while chewing. The leg was enormous, larger than I could comfortably manage, so I looked at Velgrynd and spoke between breaths.
—"Hey, try the rest. This is too much for just me."
As I ate, blowing on pieces of meat to cool them, I noticed Velgrynd glancing at me. Her golden eyes followed the deer with an interest she couldn't fully hide. After a few seconds, she finally gave in. With a slow but deliberate movement, she brought her massive head to the deer and, in one bite, swallowed it whole —bones, antlers, and all. Her eyes glowed slightly, a golden flash that lit up the cave for an instant.
I swallowed my bite, still hot, and asked her with a smile.
—"Did you like it?"
She tilted her head, and for the first time, her voice lost a bit of its mocking tone. With a hint of regret, almost imperceptible, she replied.
—"Yes… Thank you for the meal, human."
I stared at her, surprised by the sincerity in her words, and then nodded, satisfied.
—"You're welcome. I guess sharing with a dragon isn't so bad after all."
....
A few days had passed, and I could finally move again. It was a liberating feeling, like my body had awakened after an eternity trapped in pain. The burns still hurt when brushing against my clothes, but they no longer stopped me. I took advantage of the time in the cave to train, not just my muscles, but also my abilities. I practiced Aura, adjusting its pressure until I could maintain it steadily without exhausting myself, and Will, learning to activate it in short bursts to conserve energy. But the real gem was my new unique skill: Source of Life.
It was incredible. Raphael had explained to me that it regenerated 1% of my magical reserves per minute, even at rest, but it also had a drawback: my body absorbed magicules from the environment without any control. If I got distracted, that overload could slowly erode my magic core, like a crack expanding until it broke a dam. Fortunately, Raphael was there, monitoring every fluctuation and regulating the flow to prevent me from destroying myself.
[Without my supervision, your core would collapse with a 92% probability after 3 hours of uncontrolled use. Stay focused, or Source of Life will be your end.] He had warned me once, and since then I became more careful.
As I walked through the cave, testing my muscles with slow but steady steps, Velgrynd's voice echoed from the back, interrupting my thoughts. She was coiled on her stone platform, her crimson scales reflecting the dim light like a river of fire.
—"Human, what is your true name?"
I stopped, turning toward her with a half-smile.
—"I already told you. My name was Hans Müller in my past life, but now I'm Eidel von Kreutz. That's all I've got."
Velgrynd let out a long sigh, a sound that made the air vibrate and lifted some dust from the ground. When she spoke again, her tone had a sharp edge of irritation, as if dealing with a stubborn child.
—"Not that name. Your true name. The one etched into your soul."
I blinked, confused. Etched into my soul? The words made no sense, but before I could answer, Raphael intervened, his voice clear in my mind.
[Explanation: In this world, 'naming' grants a magical identity tied to the soul, especially for beings with significant power. A name etched into the soul amplifies potential and establishes purpose. You do not have one. Your reincarnation did not include such a process, and your soul remains without a defined name.]
I sighed, scratching the back of my neck as I looked at Velgrynd. Her golden eyes studied me, waiting for an answer I wasn't sure I could give.
—"I don't know what you're talking about," —I said finally, shrugging—. "I just reincarnated into this body. Nobody gave me a manual or a special name. I'm just… me. Hans, Eidel, whatever you want to call me. That's all I've got."
Velgrynd didn't respond right away, her gaze fixed on me as if trying to decipher something even I didn't understand. The silence stretched, heavy, as I kept walking, my footsteps echoing in the cave.
After a few seconds of silence, Velgrynd let out a deep laugh, a sound that reverberated through the cave walls like distant thunder. I opened my mouth to retort, ready to throw out something witty, but she cut me off before I could say a word.
—"Don't be offended, pup. You've caught my attention—more than I expected from a weak human. I'll give you something. A new name, but that's all." —Her golden eyes locked onto me, glowing with an intensity that made me swallow hard—. "From now on, you'll be called Einar."
I blinked, processing her words. Einar? Before I could respond, a strange sensation hit me, like an electric current running through my body from my chest to the tips of my fingers. Raphael intervened instantly, his voice resonating with controlled urgency.
[Warning: New magical energy detected. Your soul is reacting to the naming. Magical reserves increased by 47%. Magic core undergoing accelerated adaptation. Stabilizing flow to prevent collapse.]
The mild heat that always filled the cave—that constant burn from Velgrynd's presence—suddenly vanished. My body, which had been screaming in pain from the burns and exhaustion, felt… different. Lighter. The wounds were still there, but the pain was fading, as if someone had lifted an invisible weight off my shoulders. I let out a sigh of relief, my shoulders dropping as a smile formed on my face.
I looked at Velgrynd, who was still watching me with that mix of curiosity and disdain, and I couldn't resist.
—"Well, Einar, huh? Not bad for a weak pup. Thanks, I guess," —I said, teasing slightly, though my tone was warmer than I intended.
She turned her head with a snort, as if my gratitude were an annoyance.
—"Don't get too excited. We're now Master and Subordinate. Don't expect me to pamper you for it."
—"Master and Subordinate?" —I repeated, raising an eyebrow, but before I could ask more, Raphael spoke again, his voice loaded with information.
[The naming has created a bond. You've inherited a fraction of Velgrynd's magic: elemental affinity with fire. Your magic core can now channel fire energy, though training will be required to control it. Initial mastery probability: 22%. Caution: The bond implies implicit loyalty. Do not ignore it.]
I smiled, a spark of excitement igniting in my chest. Fire? From Velgrynd? This was more than I could've imagined. I turned toward her, still pretending disinterest, and decided to push my luck a little further.
—"Hey, Velgrynd, now that we're Master and Subordinate, would you do me a little favor?" —I asked, my smile growing as I crossed my arms, ignoring the slight pull of the burns.
She opened one eye, looking at me with that expression that said she was already reconsidering her decision not to incinerate me.
...
As I sat in the cave, sweat dripping down my forehead and the scorching air burning my lungs, I thought that maybe I should stop being so... amateurish. It wasn't just that I threw myself into everything without thinking too much, like every problem could be solved with sheer stubbornness. It was deeper than that. My impulsive attitude —jumping at a dragon with a broken dagger, ignoring Raphael's warnings, or even provoking Velgrynd without considering the consequences— had gotten me this far, yes, but it had also brought me to the brink of death more times than I could count. Being so reckless was like playing roulette with my own soul; it worked until it didn't, and sooner or later, my luck would run out. If I wanted to survive in this world, I needed to calculate better, plan, not just rely on my new ability or a miracle to bail me out. Staying an amateur meant staying weak, and I couldn't afford that anymore.
Now, in the cave, I was trying to summon a bit of fire on my fingers. I focused, visualizing a spark, a small flame, something to prove that Velgrynd's magic really flowed in me. My hands trembled slightly, not from nerves, but from the effort of channeling something I still didn't understand. Velgrynd watched me from her stone platform, her golden eyes fixed on me with that familiar mix of curiosity and disdain. Her gaze didn't bother me; after all, I'd survived her mockery and her flames. What did bother me was the infernal heat of the cave. According to Raphael, the temperature hovered around 500 degrees Celsius, a level that should've turned me to ash if not for Will and the constant regulation of my magic core. Every breath was like swallowing embers, and my clothes—or what remained of them—were soaked in sweat.
Velgrynd had agreed to train me, though not without making me beg a little. Between my clumsy arguments and promises not to disappoint her, she finally relented with a snort.
—"If you want to control my fire, you must first become familiar with the heat," —she had said, her voice echoing through the cave as the air grew even more stifling—. "You are nothing if you cannot endure this."
But Raphael, always the voice of reason in my head, had a different opinion. As I tried to generate a spark, his words cut through my thoughts.
[Velgrynd's instruction is inefficient. Becoming familiar with heat will not improve your control. Magic, such as the one you inherited, is the materialization of an idea that produces an effect according to specific laws. For example: magic releases mental images that absorb environmental energy, such as heat, and as a side effect generates physical phenomena, like the fire you're trying to summon. You do not need to endure extreme temperatures; you need mental clarity and focused practice. Probability of success with her method: 14%. With mine: 62%.]
I paused, my fingers still extended, and murmured mentally:
—"Then why don't I just tell her she's wrong and follow your method?"
[Because she is a True Dragon, and you are still a human with an 82% probability of being incinerated if you provoke her. Obey for now. That was sarcasm, but the best thing you can do is play along while training your visualization.]
I half-smiled, shaking my head. Raphael and his damn sarcasm. I refocused, ignoring the heat that made my skin feel like dry leather, and tried to imagine a small, controlled flame dancing in my palm. Velgrynd continued watching me, and though she said nothing, I could feel her impatience. I knew I had to master this, not just for myself, but to prove that the name she gave me —Einar— meant something.
I sat cross-legged on the rocky floor of the cave, closing my eyes to block out the glare of Velgrynd's scales and the suffocating heat that still filled the air. I tried to imagine a spark, something small but alive, a speck of light I could hold in my mind. At first, it was nothing more than a blurry smudge, a vague idea that faded every time the burning on my skin or a stray thought distracted me. I growled softly, forcing myself to focus. I visualized the spark as a bright point, red and gold, pulsing like a heartbeat. In my mind, I saw it ignite, growing from nothing into a flicker that floated before me.
Then I imagined that spark moving, traveling from my chest, where I felt the heat of my magic core, through my arms. It was like tracing a river of energy, slow and clumsy at first, stumbling over my own doubt. I felt a tingling in my veins, a warm current rising through my shoulders, down my elbows, and pooling in my hands. My fingers trembled slightly as I pushed the image toward the tip of my index finger, commanding the spark to take shape. It was exhausting, like running with a rock tied to my back; my breathing grew heavy, and sweat dripped down my forehead, mixing with the cave's dust.
I opened my eyes, gasping, and there it was: a tiny spark, barely the size of a seed, dancing at the tip of my fingers. Red with a golden edge, it flickered as if it were alive, though so fragile that a breath might extinguish it. I smiled, tired but satisfied. It had been a hell of an effort, every second a struggle against my own inexperience and the overwhelming heat of the cave.
Velgrynd, who hadn't taken her golden eyes off me, let out a long sigh, and suddenly the temperature began to drop. The air stopped feeling like an oven, and a relative coolness —though still warm— settled in the cave. I deactivated Will, which had been holding me up against exhaustion, and the relief was immediate. The air, though still heavy, was much fresher, like going from a forge to a summer afternoon.
[Your body has become familiar with the inherited magic. Initial process is complete. New mission: Train to master fire materialization. Probability of success with consistent practice: 74%.] Said Raphael in my mind, his tone as practical as ever.
I nodded, still looking at the spark that was slowly fading on my fingers, but Velgrynd's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
—"You took a while, but you did it. My method was effective, see?" —she said, her voice laced with a pride she made no effort to hide. Her scales seemed to shine a little more, as if she were showing off.
I rolled my eyes, but a smile appeared on my face.
—"Yeah, yeah, your method worked. Thanks, Velgrynd. Though I almost cooked myself alive in the process."
I looked toward her and noticed a faint smile on her face, an almost imperceptible gesture that softened her usually stern expression. For a moment, the cave felt less like a prison and more like a place where, maybe, I was starting to belong.