I Received System to Become Dragonborn-Chapter 1004: Villagers

Krono stepped onto the creaking planks of the bridge first, his stride unwavering. Eccar followed close behind with hands tucked loosely at his sides as if he were just strolling.

Lyrel and Caelthar lingered a little farther back with shadows of doubt hanging over them.

"You’re sure this is okay?" Caelthar asked, his voice was loud enough just to reach Lyrel.

"Yes," Lyrel answered without hesitation. Her tone was firm. She wants to know what they’re gonna do.

Caelthar frowned at her. "Why are you so sure?"

"It’s..." Lyrel’s voice faltered for a moment. She looked at the two walking ahead and at the calmness they faced a village brimming with hostility. "I don’t know. Just look at them. We don’t need to do anything. Don’t forget to record."

Caelthar blinked in surprise but obeyed without argument.

He pulled from his satchel a bound leather book and held it ready in his hand.

By then, Krono and Eccar had reached the far side of the bridge. Both men raised their hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Peace!" Krono’s voice rang out steady and clear. "We don’t want any trouble."

The words seemed almost wasted. The villagers had already begun to gather in earnest, stepping out from between huts and doorways, brandishing their weapons.

Spears and blades glinted dully in the sunlight, and the air hummed with hostility disguised as anticipation.

The scarred man with the broad shoulders pushed to the front. He sighed, shaking his head in dissapointment.

"Just four of them?" His voice was deep and rough. "This is disappointing. We haven’t had anything for weeks and now only four come wandering in."

"Maybe not too bad," a shorter man beside him muttered with a leer. "Two of them are Elves."

"Elves?" the scarred man repeated, his grin stretching further.

The word rippled through the villagers like a spark through dry grass. Murmurs rose.

"Elves?"

"What are Elves doing here?"

"Ransom... we can sell them."

Ideas of schemes of profit and vengeance spilled eagerly from their lips. The Elves had long been so annoying. They forbid their hunts for more animals, restricting their axes to cut more trees, and forcing them to bow before rules that strangled their desire.

And now two of them were here and vulnerable.

The scarred leader stepped forward, raising a hand to silence them.

"I’ll take care of this. We don’t need too many for these ones. The rest of you back to your work!"

Grumbling, some villagers obeyed, drifting back toward half-finished works.

Others lingered on the edges because they were too curious or too lustful to walk away. Their eyes followed Lyrel especially who was the only woman with hunger clear in their eyes.

They knew Elven women were famed for their beauty and the thought of capturing her stirred a vile hunger among them. They would take turns, passing her from man to man until none were left of her.

The leader strode up until he stood towering over Krono and Eccar, forcing them to look up at him. His breath smelled of rot and sour ale and his grin dripping with arrogance.

Krono and Eccar met him with calm smiles, utterly unfazed.

"We just want to pass," Krono said evenly.

"Oh, really? You just want to pass?" the man mocked, tilting his head. His grin widened. "Why don’t you all spend some time in my village? Rest a while. Especially that Elf woman there."

His thick finger pointed straight at Lyrel.

Caelthar’s bowstring creaked as he pulled an arrow into place, his eyes burning with fury.

But Lyrel’s hand shot out to stop him.

"Let those two handle him," she said quietly.

Caelthar hesitated, then reluctantly lowered his bow though his knuckles whitened around the shaft.

"No," Krono said to the man, his voice still calm. "I’d rather not spend time in your village."

"Your village stinks, big man," Eccar added with a grin and his mocking tone.

The leader’s eyes flared sharp with anger, his smile fading for only a breath. Then he burst into booming laughter.

"HAAHAAHAAHAA! How interesting!"

Without warning, his massive hand swung out in a brutal arc toward Eccar’s face.

Eccar didn’t flinch. He didn’t even move. The scarred man’s massive hand cracked across his face with a sound like wood striking stone.

But instead of staggering Eccar just stood there and smiling as if nothing had happened.

The man froze, his eyes wide with confusion. His palm tingled not with the sting of flesh meeting flesh but as if he was hitting something as solid as rock.

Lyrel’s brows drew together. Caelthar’s hand tightened on his bowstring again, though he didn’t raise it. They exchanged a silent glance, neither speaking.

Krono’s lips curved into the faintest smile, utterly calm.

"Listen," he said evenly, his voice carrying over the villagers’ whispers. "We don’t have to do this. You can simply let us pass. No one needs to be hurt."

The scarred leader growled, his pride stung by the calmness in Krono’s tone.

"Hmph! Just because you can take a slap doesn’t mean you’re stronger than me," he spat. "You talk as though you’re granting me mercy already."

Even as he spoke, the man’s body began to tremble with a gathering force.

Then with a guttural snarl he unleashed it. Magic surged from him like a storm and violent wind whipped outward in a sudden blast scattering dust and sending nearby villagers staggering back.

Lyrel’s eyes widened.

"That power..." she whispered.

She had not expected such strength from a barbarian. Even Caelthar stiffened, his expression grim, recognizing the power pouring from the man.

But Krono did not waver.

Eccar’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest.

The two of them stood as steady as if the wind couldn’t even touch them.

The leader’s teeth clenched. His fury burns hotter at their indifference.

"Damn you!" he roared, his fist now wrapped in thick coils of raw Magic energy.

He lunged forward and threw a strong punch.

Eccar moved at last. His hand shot up with casual precision and his fingers closing around the oncoming fist.

The fist never landed. Eccar’s grip stopped it.

The man’s eyes widened in disbelief. His strength, his power, his Magic, all of it was caught and held with one hand.

Eccar’s grin widened as he slowly twisted his wrist. His bones broke with a sickening crack like brittle twigs.

The scarred man let out a scream of agony and dropping to one knee while clutching his broken arm.

The villagers watching gasped in horror, their confidence shaken in an instant.

Krono’s calm voice cut through the chaos.

"This is your last chance. Let us pass... or the next lesson will be far harsher."

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