Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race-Chapter 122 - Ezkalor

POV: Rygar Adoldia

Until just a few days ago, I was excited about the idea of capturing a red dragon.

After all, who had never dreamed of riding a dragon? Even when he discovered that he was in a fantasy world, that was one of his first thoughts.

It would be a symbolic step toward absolute power — a bestial warrior, flying on a creature that the inhabitants of this world consider walking calamities.

But that excitement... disappeared after the incident with the Red Dragon's Lower Jaw.

At several moments, I considered simply giving up.

Forgetting that idea, following the course of the journey with the rest of the group, and focusing on anything else, for I was disheartened. But in the end, I decided to continue.

There were obvious benefits in taming a dragon — flight, reputation, dominion — and perhaps, subconsciously, a part of me wanted something to fill the void that had recently opened.

But the truth is that... I wasn't patient enough to tame a dragon. Not even close.

Jumping between the rocky and snowy cliffs, running along the rough ridges of the mountains, my eyes gazed at the horizon, but my mind returned...

It returned to the moment when the Dragon God pierced Eidar's chest with his hand.

And every time that scene replayed in my head, a new wave of anger flooded over me. A dry, cold, constant fury.

And I knew that it wasn't my body out of control as before.

It was just... hatred. Anger for not being able to do anything.

What would I do, after all?

Go to the Dragon God and kill him?

Just imagining it, my blood burned. But that burn didn't push me forward — it corroded me from within.

It was impotence. A cursed feeling I hadn't felt in years.

The memory of being weak. Of being beneath.

Of not being able to protect someone.

I continued climbing. One step after another, the mountains became my hunting ground.

It was then that I detected my first target. A wandering red dragon, he was young, lost from the group.

Red dragons weren't good at aerial maneuvers.

They could glide for days, fly in a straight line as far as the eye could see, they were very resilient.

But thanks to their inability in complex maneuvers, they often glided out of their territory.

Sometimes, they ended up in nearby villages or towns. Sometimes, they just ended up at the base of the mountain range, which is where I was now.

Thanks to that, I didn't need to delve deep into their territory. It was enough to wait for the wanderers.

But I wasn't in the mood for a long game.

I just wanted a dragon that obeyed.

One that submitted.

And if they didn't adapt quickly enough... I would kill them.

And that's exactly what I did.

When I found the first one, I didn't give it time for anything.

No words. No elegant movements.

I leaped upon him like a predator and beat him with my bare fists.

No Touki. That was important.

I had challenged Eris and Aisha to defeat me without me using Touki — so I was restraining myself, testing myself, pushing myself to the physical limit.

I was twelve years old, almost thirteen. I was entering a new phase of growth, and the pure effort, the raw pain beyond Touki, were important stimuli.

So I smashed him.

Fist after fist. Tooth after tooth.

Every time he fell, I healed him with magic.

And he got up again.

And attacked me again.

And I knocked him down again.

This cycle repeated until my patience ran out.

And when that happened, I killed him.

I took the magical core. The fangs. The dried blood on my hands didn't bother me.

Some of the wandering dragons were stronger — most of them were young, Rank A threats, but sometimes there were a few stronger ones.

For those, I couldn't win with my physical strength alone, so I used Touki.

They were alone, disoriented. They were simple targets.

I repeated this process countless times.

Always the same way.

Without hesitation.

Honestly? If someone said I was just taking out my anger on these dragons, I wouldn't have been able to deny it.

I was angry.

I was furious.

Hatred consumed me from within.

I buried Eidar with my own hands. I made a silent vow of revenge. But everything seemed so... empty.

The journey continued. The steps moved forward. But Eidar... was no longer there.

I tried to convince myself that it was just another casualty. Just another loss among the countless warriors who fought under my command.

But it wasn't, Eidar was my brother in arms.

He had no qualms about laughing at me, about provoking me. He was one of the few who didn't bow to my strength.

He was a true friend.

And now he was dead. Verdia once told me that there was no Resurrection magic.

A scene replayed in my mind. Orsted, with his golden eyes. His hand piercing through Eidar's chest. Throwing him aside like a bag of meat, as if he were nothing.

And I couldn't do anything.

And every time I remembered, I punched the dragons even harder.

Even when dead, I struck.

My claws opened cuts, my fists cracked scales, my fangs tore flesh.

My hands had no scales to protect them.

My fingers became raw flesh, blood trickled from my nails, skin tore.

And when a dragon resisted my fists and claws, when it was stronger than the others and I couldn't beat it without Touki, I became irritated.

I used Tsukikage and sliced it into dozens of pieces.

Then, I healed my hands, and moved on to the next.

And again. And again.

My roars echoed through the mountains, trying to hide the pain, the loss, the emptiness.

---

It was then that I found him — a young red dragon, like all the others, about five or six times the size of Skoll.

If I had to point out something different about him, it would be the condition of his body: it was covered in scars.

One of his two horns was broken in half, and on the same side there was a severe scar where his right eye should have been.

Furthermore, one of his wings was clearly broken, fallen and useless.

I maintained the same procedure I had adopted with the others: I appeared before him and challenged him with my presence.

But, unlike the others, this dragon didn't even look at me.

He just continued watching the distant mountains, lying down, waiting for his death by blood loss.

He didn't seem in the least interested in tearing me apart, which I found strange.

I leaped upon him without hesitation and healed all his wounds.

The dragon remained still for a moment.

His broken horn and the destroyed eye were not restored, but all the other wounds, internal and external, disappeared before my magic.

For a moment, he didn't understand.

But when he realized that his strength had returned, he finally turned to me — who was sitting calmly on a rock, waiting for him to attack.

I was impatient.

I really didn't care about any sad story that dragon might have had, I was just waiting for him to attack me soon.

As predicted, he attacked me.

He roared fiercely as he advanced toward me with bites and claws.

I fought him with my own claws, punches, and kicks.

It was an intense battle.

He was strong, I could feel it. He still wasn't an adult dragon, probably, but his strength surpassed that of the other young dragons I had encountered.

Strong enough that I couldn't defeat him without using Touki.

Usually, that was enough to irritate me — and, consequently, for me to cut them into several pieces.

But I thought it would be a waste.

I had spent mana to heal that enormous body of all its wounds.

Subconsciously, I wanted that to have some value.

I defeated him with the sword, but I didn't kill him like the others. And I healed him right after.

I waited expectantly.

But, to my disappointment, he blew a burst of fire at me in response. I was disappointed.

So he would continue fighting too...? That was a waste.

But when I cut the flaming breath using the Flow, what I saw shocked me.

He was running! And he was already far away!

I was in shock for a moment and then I launched into pursuit.

He was almost taking flight when I leaped and grabbed him by the tail, pulling him back. He turned and tried to kill me again.

Again, I cut him and defeated him without killing him.

This repeated a few times.

The last times, he would stay still for a while, as if thinking of a way to escape, and then he would try to distract me to flee.

I smiled and thought: 'What a cowardly dragon...'.

But in retrospect, he was alive because of that.

Finally, on the sixth attempt, he didn't flee.

He stayed still, staring at me. As if he were trying to understand me.

I just watched him with Tsukikage at the ready. When he stared at me long enough, I spoke directly, looking into his eyes:

"You're mine from now on."

The dragon began to accumulate fire in his mouth, but he stopped instantly when I raised Tsukikage.

He really learned quickly. But it still wasn't enough. Now that I had a target, all that remained was repetition.

I was going to conduct several types of training.

He learned fast, but even so, before taking him to the group, I needed to be sure that there was no rebellious thought left in his mind.

First, I would turn my back.

At those moments, he attacked me.

I would disappear with a Flash Step and beat him again.

I repeated that until he stopped attacking.

Then, until he stopped fleeing.

Then, I did it while he slept.

I slept soundly beside him.

Obviously, he attacked me or tried to flee.

I would wake in the blink of an eye and beat him black and blue again.

This phase took a little longer, but, as I had already said, he adapted quickly.

He quickly learned what he needed to do to avoid being beaten and killed, and what he couldn't do.

The days passed.

I would take him around.

When another wandering dragon appeared, I brutally killed it.

That also served to teach him what would happen if he resisted too much.

Sometimes, I would tell him to run.

He had some intelligence.

After looking at me confused for a few moments, he would take off flying or running.

I let him feel free again. And then, I captured him again.

When he returned, he tried to flee again, for he had experienced freedom once more.

But I taught him again that he couldn't escape. He couldn't.

Little by little, using various tactics of psychological manipulation and animal training from my previous world, I slowly brainwashed him.

When he did something I liked, I gave him meat and healed his wounds.

When he fled or acted violently toward me, I beat him and didn't heal his wounds.

The classic of rewarding good actions and punishing bad actions.

But this was a red dragon.

That required me to constantly show that I could finish him off at any moment.

They were intelligent, but still, taming such a wild creature took time.

That was one of the reasons I chose a dragon that adapted quickly — so I could quickly teach him who was in charge.

Two weeks passed quickly.

I cleaned him of the crusts of dirt and mud that had been there since who knows when.

The dragon became furious. I beat him.

I sent him to hunt for me.

He, reluctantly, obeyed and left; when he hunted and thought I wasn't watching, he began to eat. I appeared and beat him.

I repeated that several times, in an almost mechanical cycle.

The red dragon, which before had shown itself fierce and unpredictable, was now much calmer.

No matter how far he went or how well he hid, I always found him, for I had already memorized his scent.

I even let him hit me with his fire, but I prepared a powerful fire barrier around me, invisible to his eyes.

He launched his burst of flames, expecting to see me charred, but the surprise was on him.

I was unharmed, the fire barrier protecting me without him noticing.

To deepen his frustration, on another occasion I inflicted several wounds on myself on purpose.

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He looked at me, injured, hesitated due to the constant traps, questioned himself, but at some point, finally, attacked again.

And it was in his attack that he understood: nothing he did could stop me.

I swiftly got up and he saw his attacks fail, while I quickly regenerated the wounds and beat him again.

The dragon, especially intelligent and cowardly, realized he had no choice left.

He had no control over what was happening.

I wasn't there to destroy him, but to force him to adapt to my will.

He resisted, but deep down, he understood he was lost.

I knew he wasn't completely submissive or loyal yet, I knew that if given the chance, he would flee.

But I wasn't planning to completely tame him that quickly.

For now, that was enough to ensure he wouldn't attack the group at night.

He behaved in an acceptable, controlled manner. That was something.

One day, I looked at him and said: "That's enough. Let's go."

It was at that moment that I took the Mad Dragon King's Sealing Chains and placed them around his neck, ensuring that he couldn't gather mana to unleash his fiery breath.

His confidence was further shaken by that.

Upon feeling the weight of the chains, the big red dragon recoiled, feeling that control over him had been even more reinforced.

Then I grabbed the bag with the magical cores and fangs of the dragons I had killed.

With that, I headed out, and the red dragon was at my heels.

During those two and a half weeks, I was very busy, but I also had time to think.

My fury was still alive, but the fight against the other wandering dragons provided a perfect outlet to relieve the tension that had been building inside me since the encounter with the Dragon God.

We ran back, and at one point during the journey, I rode on his back.

I had already tried to make him fly while riding him before, but I soon realized that it was much more complicated than it seemed, he didn't fly easily, which left the passengers with problems balancing.

He still wasn't trained enough to fly easily.

I would need to work on his flying skills before trying again and, if possible, build a cage.

But at least, I knew it was possible.

Gradually, we approached the group.

He ran on the ground quickly.

When I saw Skoll in the distance, he was advancing at full speed, clearly with a murderous intent in his posture.

But, upon seeing me riding the dragon, he stopped, cautious. Without showing further aggression, he waited, probably analyzing the situation.

I couldn't help but wonder who would win in a fight, the dragon was much larger, but Skoll had his Rank A classification mainly due to his speed and endurance.

Then I moved closer and saw Eris training with Ghislaine ahead.

I thought to myself, 'Alright, I still have a lot to protect, even in the Great Forest.'

Eidar's death had been an unexpected blow, a proof that I was still not capable of protecting those I care about.

However, from another perspective, it was also a warning, a warning of the constant dangers that lurk in this world.

Eris approached, excited.

Ghislaine was on guard, ready to act at any moment, and Lilia, cautious as always, watched intently.

Aisha, beside them, had her eyes shining with curiosity.

When Eris came closer, the dragon almost began to act aggressively.

However, I caught his attention with a shock, reminding him who was in control there. The dragon stopped immediately.

Eris, watching everything in awe, asked excitedly: "What's his name?!"

I froze for a moment. I hadn't yet given the dragon a name.

I looked at the dragon, thought quickly and then leaped from his back.

I signaled for him to lower his head, and the two pairs of golden eyes met.

I smiled and, in a firm tone, said: "His name is Ezkalor."

The dragon looked back at me, with a deep meaning in his eyes. He understood. He comprehended that he had been named. That would be his name. Ezkalor.

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