Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 25 - : Back to hell

Isaac and his group finally emerged from the portal, greeted by the cold Parisian night air. The stars twinkled timidly above them, as if nothing of their epic battle had taken place just a few meters away, behind the opaque screen of the now-closed portal.

The head of the Raven's Guild, Kraig, was waiting for them, leaning against a black car parked nearby, nonchalantly puffing on a cigar. He raised his head as they approached, his cold eyes detailing their pitiful state.

- So, still alive?" he said with a touch of sarcastic surprise.

Erik, exhausted but dignified, stepped forward, giving him a dark look.

- Yes, and with the boss defeated. We're waiting for our reward.

Kraig squinted, clearly annoyed, but nodded without adding anything. He glanced quickly at his smartphone, noting down some information before whistling briefly to an assistant stationed near a van.

- Take care of them.

The assistant, a jaded-looking young man, came over and handed them a thick envelope. Erik took it without a word, opening it quickly to check the contents.

- How much?" asked Jonah, worried.

- Two thousand credits," replied Erik after counting. After the guild's share, we're left with that. Let's split it four ways.

Isaac nodded silently, aware that 70% of their earnings had just been deducted. But it didn't matter. Today, he had gained something far more precious than money: a new strength, a power capable of making a real difference.

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Each of them received their share, Isaac carefully slipping the bills into his pocket. The team then dispersed silently, each member slowly returning to his own world, with wounds to heal and memories to digest.

Isaac finally arrived in front of the dilapidated building he called home. As he entered the dark stairwell, for the first time in a long time he felt a weight lighten slightly in his chest. His sister, Léna, had endured the hardships, the sacrifices, the cold, tasteless meals for too long. Today, he would finally be able to offer her a little more.

He quickly moved on to the little neighborhood restaurant that was still open late, buying warm, generous dishes that they never usually allowed themselves. The aromas of roast chicken, grilled vegetables and fried potatoes filled his nostrils, awakening a hunger he didn't know he felt so intensely.

On the way home, he gently opened the door to their dilapidated apartment. Léna was sitting at the table, reading a battered book under the flickering glow of a half-faulty lamp. She looked up immediately when she heard him enter, and a relieved smile crossed her tired face.

- You're home at last," she murmured, relieved.

Then her gaze shifted to the bags Isaac was holding, and she raised a curious eyebrow.

- What's... what's all this?

Isaac gave a tired but sincere smile.

- I got paid today. For once, we're going to eat properly.

Léna's eyes lit up with a joy as sincere as it was unexpected.

- Seriously?! she said, getting up hastily to examine the bags he was placing on the table. Isaac, are you sure you could...?

- Yeah, don't worry," he replied calmly, smiling wider. Today, it's my treat.

She immediately opened the packages, discovering with wonder the still-smoking hot dish, the herb-scented roast chicken, the crispy potatoes, and even a dessert - a pastry covered in melted chocolate.

Her eyes shone with silent gratitude, but Isaac could see the tears of emotion in the corner of her eyes.

- Thank you..." she murmured, moved.

Isaac looked away slightly, embarrassed but happy.

- Stop it, it's nothing. Eat it while it's hot.

They both sat down at the table, enjoying the meal in warm silence. Léna ate with appetite, savoring every mouthful with obvious pleasure. Isaac, for his part, simply watched, a slight smile floating on his lips.

He knew there was still a long way to go, that the battles ahead would be harder, that the road he had chosen was strewn with deadly pitfalls. But today, for this night only, he could afford a moment's rest. Just a few hours of peace, a moment to remember what he was fighting for.

- Thank you, Isaac," Léna murmured as she finished her meal, her gaze full of tenderness.

He simply nodded, his smile widening slightly.

- Don't we deserve it once in a while?

He just stood there, savoring this moment of fragile peace.

Because tomorrow, he knew, it would all start all over again. The fighting, the pain, the urgent need to grow stronger.

But for now, nothing else mattered but this meal shared with Léna.

Once the meal had been eaten in good spirits, Isaac went upstairs to bed.

- Good night, Sister.

- Good night Isaac," she replied with a smile.

Exhausted, Isaac collapsed on his bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

But no sooner had he closed his eyes than a violent sensation seized him, jarring him out of reality. His mind was sucked by an invisible force into a vortex of pain and darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the other world. Back as Mordred, the slave. A stabbing pain immediately radiated down his back, burning, unbearable.

Every lash he received was imprinted deep in his flesh, pulsing in waves of constant suffering.

The dim glow of the dormitory torches immediately reminded him of where he was. Figures huddled around him breathed heavily in their restless sleep. No one noticed his sudden awakening. Mordred slowly raised a trembling hand to his back, feeling the still-fresh blood sticking to his fingers.

- Here we go again.

He grunted, clenching his teeth to keep from screaming out in pain. Every breath tortured him, drawing muffled complaints. But suddenly, a thought crossed his foggy mind.

Maybe it could work here too...

With a colossal effort, he closed his eyes, searching deep inside himself for this newly acquired power: [Black Stone Body].

At first, nothing happened. The pain continued to pound his flesh without respite. His heart was pounding so hard he felt as if his ribs were going to explode.

But suddenly, something inside him awoke. A strange shiver ran through his body as his muscles contracted involuntarily. Slowly, with difficulty, a black, golem-like protective layer emerged beneath his bruised skin. It enveloped his still raw wounds, slightly smothering the burning pain.

He sighed with relief, his body slowly ceasing to tremble. He wasn't cured, far from it, but he could breathe, think, survive.

But before he could fully appreciate this small victory, the dormitory door opened violently. A dragon-guard, a monstrous figure, stood in the doorway, whip in hand, still dripping with fresh blood.

- STAND UP, VERMINE!" screamed the creature in an icy, implacable voice.

Mordred's heart leapt in his chest. The night was far from over, and he knew another torment awaited.