Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 114

Dragons are born deep underground.

They are forged on the boundary where geothermal heat melts mana stones into steam and magma—among those born there, dragons are uniquely conscious beings. They inherit the memories of dead dragons, and from the moment they take their first breath, they split open stone and tear through the earth like water, rising to the surface and laying their bodies upon the land.

And the moment they breathe the air of the surface, dragons instinctively understand—they are incomplete. A part of them is missing. And somewhere in this world, that missing piece exists.

Afterward, though they are born incapable of loneliness, dragons begin to fear a yet-unknown solitude. At the same time, they are enraged and despondent by the idea that such a meaningless creature as a human could cause them to feel this way. Thus, they begin their journey—searching desperately for their fated partner.

Whether they wanted to kill that partner before they could influence their life, or complete themselves by devouring the missing piece, every dragon bore a deep-seated instinct to find and confront them. Janus was no different.

Even though his sole destined partner was human, humans meant absolutely nothing to a dragon. Their frightened stares, agonized screams, despairing tears—none of it moved them in the slightest. They only mingled among humans in disguise to search for their partner, and when the time came, they would slaughter everyone around them without hesitation. Just like a child crushing ants for fun.

Taking life was, on rare occasion, a source of joy.

But Janus didn’t do that.

After he was born, he spent a long time curled up in the Rehzedet Mountains. Sometimes, he would lick at the perpetual snow atop the peaks and slowly chew over the memories of dead dragons that had flowed into him through the ley lines.

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Very few dragons successfully bonded with their partner. Their innate arrogance caused them to reject the connection and revel in meaningless human slaughter—many failed for that reason.

But Janus rather liked this world. So he wanted things to go well with his partner. Bugs, beasts, humans—they all seemed more or less the same to him, but even so, he slipped among them and learned their way of life. He practiced smiling, acting kindly, and copying their speech.

He lived among humans for a long time like that, but his cold nature never warmed even slightly.

He spent countless years with only a vague sense that his partner might have been born somewhere in the North. And then, one day, his partner was finally born. Just when he’d begun thinking this kind of life wasn’t so bad—the shock of that moment was enormous.

He thought his life now was decent enough... and yet, it could be even better?

When his partner was born, a multicolored brilliance painted over his otherwise gray world for just a few seconds—and then vanished. His body, his head, his gaze—all slowly turned northward. The bewitching sensation was drifting toward colder lands. Janus roamed the world, chasing that faint and blurry signal. The North was vast, and unlike the memories of dead dragons, there were too many obstacles this time.

The joy of being close to meeting his partner didn’t last. One day, that sensation vanished without a trace. As if it had never existed, it left behind only the faintest remnant. Not in Solar. Not anywhere else in this world...

The last remaining trace was in Solar. Janus could only determine that his partner had stayed in Solar until the very end—and hadn’t died. Not entirely, at least. Nowhere else in the world bore the scent, but Solar still held a lingering trace. So naturally, he settled in the harsh, frozen estate.

And so he endured for ten years, searching. He met countless humans and took them as lovers, but not one of them felt like the one. Just to be thorough, he sent each of them to other regions after they broke up. Even so, his instincts as a dragon urged him to remain in Solar. Meaning: none of his past lovers had been his fated one.

But how much longer was he supposed to wait?

Human lives weren’t just finite—they were short. A long time had already passed since his partner was born. Janus had made up his mind: even if it meant incurring his partner’s hatred, he would flip this snow-covered land upside down to find them.

So long as a dragon lived, they would eventually meet their partner. But no one knew when that would be. Still, if possible, Janus wanted to meet them while they were still young and full of vitality.

‘Middle age and beyond isn’t really my thing. Humans get so feeble with age.’

Lying flat on his back atop a snowy roof, Janus stared at the night sky with an unreadable expression. Chewing absently on a branch, he pondered his partner. They were probably around Ayra’s age. If he could track them by age, the search would be much easier—but most people either didn’t know or had the wrong idea about how old they were. A child told they were nine might have actually been seven. Age wasn’t a very useful clue.

‘Pretty or handsome would be a plus, though.’

Even dragons had some concept of beauty. Once again, Janus’s thoughts drifted to Ayra. As someone born in Solar, his current lover was a beauty who seemed sculpted from snow. Her face was delicately attractive, and her pale, naked body was pleasing to look at—like pure white snow. Especially when she went wild like a mad beast in bed—how delightful that was.

Out of all the humans he’d taken as lovers, Ayra was by far his favorite. Her looks, personality, and sexual compatibility were a perfect match.

Naturally, Janus had once suspected that Ayra might be ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) his fated one. But the fact that she’d spent her entire life in the South until recently blocked that possibility.

If Ayra were truly his partner, then his instincts should have been pulling him south, toward the Labyrinth—not to Solar. But he had never left this place. Not once. Not even the memories of dead dragons had ever felt this confusing before. In truth, there were a lot of other strange things about Ayra too, but...

‘Well, whatever. I’m over it now.’

He was too bored and annoyed to keep thinking about it. Most dragons wandered for a long time before finally meeting their partner, so it wasn’t that strange he hadn’t found them even after all this time.

Still gnawing the branch, Janus half-swallowed it and spat out the rest before rising to his feet. The world had fallen into deep night, but dragon eyes saw clearly what humans could not. His red pupils glinted gold in the darkness, like a reptile’s. He sucked cold air in between his teeth and tongue with a soft hiss—and instantly, dozens, hundreds of scents poured in.

The lingering scent of a lover who’d stayed over last night. The crushed grass sap from livestock hooves. A dog gnawing on a bone nearby. The bitter scent of dead trees whose growth had halted from the cold. Food aromas leaking from every home.

Janus bent his knees and leapt. Though his body looked human, the tightly packed muscles in his thighs exploded with power. With one jump, he soared over several rooftops and then bounded from roof to roof.

His destination: Naulam.

That little village would be wiped from the map tonight.

It wasn’t a decision made on a whim. He’d already waited ten years—another few months was excruciating. He’d tried to be patient out of respect for his lover’s request, but lately, his fuse had grown short, like a lit firework nearing the end of its wick. And the core of that impatience was Ayra.

He thought they’d been getting along well, but lately Ayra had been grinding away what little patience he had left.

Because she’d deceived him for so long? Because she ruined what he’d prepared in a single day? Those things didn’t really make him angry. If anything, it was impressive that a mere human had wiped out that many ma-beasts in one go. Was it because she dared interfere with his search for a partner? That might’ve been it... or maybe not. It was all too vague.

Even after living this long, Janus still didn’t understand how emotions or the heart worked. Not even his own. Since the day he was born, his feelings had always been indistinct and faint. Like most dragons, he was arrogant and capricious, only occasionally feeling the faintest annoyance. Vaulting over the castle wall using a rooftop as his springboard, Janus mused absently.

‘Maybe I’ll understand better once I meet my partner.’

If he could find them, root himself in them, and devour them whole... what kind of joy or ecstasy would that bring? Janus tried to imagine it—but couldn’t. Even with all the memories of dead dragons, the life that came after meeting a partner was too unpredictable.

He set aside thoughts of his partner and ran across the snowy plains, calmly laying out his plan.

‘Starting tonight with Naulam, I’ll work my way through the outskirts.’

Like a predator cornering prey, he would obliterate the surrounding villages first, and head for the cities last. After wiping Naulam off the map, he’d block all routes out and move to the nearest settlement. Even destroying one a day, two weeks would pass quickly. Killing them off, one by one—eventually, he’d find the one.

And once Ayra had nowhere left to go, even she would have to leave Solar.

But just then, Janus came to an abrupt halt. A strange feeling tugged at him. He stood tall and slowly scanned his surroundings.

“...What is it?”

Snow fluttered from the sky. Dry branches rattled in the icy wind. Rocks were frozen white. Far off, a ma-beast scuttled through the ground. It was just an ordinary winter night in Solar. And yet—something about it gnawed at him.

Even after looking around for some time, he found nothing unusual, so he resumed moving. After a while, he stopped again—this time, because he knew exactly what had been bothering him. His lips curled.

Someone was tailing him.

A faintly familiar scent floated on the frigid wind. Had they been watching him? Did they somehow realize what he was about to do? The curiosity stirred something in his boredom.

“Labyrinth mage, huh...”

Janus slowly rubbed his chin. In all his long life, he’d hardly ever met one. Mages were common enough, but Labyrinth mages were rare—barely a handful existed. They spent nearly their entire lives inside the Labyrinth. Even Janus had heard of the infamous Labyrinth that didn’t allow outsiders to return alive.

Ayra’s magic skills were certainly exceptional. If it were just basic elemental spells, he could tank them with his body—but mental manipulation magic? That would be far trickier to deal with. For now, Janus pretended not to notice his pursuer and continued sprinting through the snowstorm.