[Lizardmen POV]
Humans are weak, ugly, and foolish creatures. Not only do they try to kill us every time they see us, but they will even murder their own kin if it means gaining treasure or power.
I saw it with my own eyes.
My brethren were slaughtered that day when the humans attacked.
The elder demons living in the king's kingdom had fought against them, and in retaliation, they came to our realm. I was just a fledgling back then, living peacefully in the swamp. But one day, the Demon Lords and five invading humans began their battle.
Our home was destroyed.
While the others escaped, I stayed behind with nothing but a stick in my hands.
After the battle, one of the demon generals found me. He said I had the look of a warrior. He asked if I wanted to become strong. Of course, I did. I wanted to be strong—just like that human dressed in white flames.
So I trained. I trained endlessly until I became strong. Soon, I would be a general too.
Then, we learned that our king would be born.
No longer would we be underdogs to humans. No longer would we suffer humiliation. We would rise and make them pay.
I volunteered to cross the portal, to accelerate its opening from the other side.
The moment I arrived, I crushed the pathetic humans who stood in my way. There was only one left—a female human. She wasn't even a threat.
I picked up a large rock and hurled it toward her, intending to crush her in an instant.
Yet, she smiled.
Why?
Why is she smiling? Why is she not afraid?
Then, the rock split cleanly in two.
A human stood before her, clad in black. Black hair, black clothes—he looked like nothing special. But the moment he moved, he was right in front of me.
Foolish human. Brave, but foolish.
I swung my fist, aiming to end him with a single punch. Yet, my punch never landed.
I kicked. That didn't land either.
I unleashed every fighting technique I had learned, but he was like a ghost. He was there, but he wasn't there. Sometimes, I struck only his black cloak, only for him to appear at another angle, attacking from my blind spots.
His sword glowed blue, its movements unpredictable.
When I thought he would strike from the left, he stabbed from the right.
It was as if he could see the future.
He knew every move I was going to make before I even made it. His eyes… those eyes… they felt like they could read my mind.
Looking at those eyes, I felt a shiver down my spine.
[Adrian POV]
Some are born strong. Some are born weak. Some work tirelessly to climb higher, while others accept their fate.
Regardless, all who walk the path of strength will one day reach the same pinnacle.
My mind is hazy. I don't remember much about my childhood. I don't know whether I was born strong or weak.
But there is one thing I do know.
I used to be strong.
Strong enough to challenge even the avatars of the gods.
I had everything, power, respect, and strength. Among my generation, I stood at the pinnacle.
But then, I lost it all.
I don't know how. I don't know why.
My sword no longer moved as I willed it. My bloodline refused to respond. My gaze, which once saw through all deceptions, abandoned me.
Eventually, I was cast aside.
I could have lived a moderate life, comfortably fading into obscurity. But the gazes that once looked at me with admiration and respect turned into pity.
To them, I was nothing but a remnant of what was once great.
A dead star.
Even my own parents… after that day, I never saw them again.
So, I left.
I threw myself into countless life-or-death situations. Everyone assumed I didn't care whether I lived or died. But that wasn't true.
I wanted to live. I wanted to survive.
Because every time I brushed against death's door and made it back, I grew a little stronger.
A little closer to the version of myself that once stood at the top.
And after seeing this, I was certain of it:
[MAIN QUEST – SHADOW OF THE TRANSMIGRATOR]
PROGRESS: 90%
PROGRESS: 92%
PROGRESS: 94%
Every being in this world has a tell—a habit ingrained into their very core.
A slight intake of breath. A shift in their footwork. A subtle tremble in their eyes.
For a fighter, these tells are almost impossible to change.
By analyzing them, predicting their movements becomes easy.
Of course, this method doesn't work on seasoned warriors. But on amateurs—like this lizard who has never fought a human before, it works perfectly. Gradually, the movement lizardmen is gonna use, appeared in my mind with a 100% accuracy.
And with that information, I adjust my swordplay accordingly.
This is my Flexible Swordsmanship, a style I developed through countless battles against stronger foes.
Of course, my lack of mana is a concern. But that is something I've accounted for.
This sword… I designed it with the help of a friend.
The blade has embedded wiring. A removable disk in the handle is crafted with mana stones. I had Elara charge it with mana beforehand, just in case of an emergency.
All I have to do is rotate the disk with the small amount of mana I do have, and it will generate a static field around the blade, attracting mana from the atmosphere.
In short, it's like equipping my sword with artificial aura.
This battle will end with my next move.