“Everyone stay back. I will handle this” The group of warriors looked at her with confusion

“Empress,” said one of the men. “You need not bother with these cultists. We’ll gather enough serpentines to offer an immovable defense. There’s no need to risk a chance of injury to your person.”

“That will not be necessary.” The man looked like he wanted to plead more, but folded under the cold stare of his leader.

“Do not fret. I am sufficient to deal with mere clergy members. However, Zephir and Dracon will assist me.” The man who had pushed him down previously rose, picking up his sword in the process. He was followed by another, who carried with him a spear. He wore his hair in a ponytail.

“And you…” She pointed at Javan. You will go with us as well.

“No, please,” yelled Javan. His legs shook hard enough to fall off. Sweat rained from his body followed by tears, which he was too afraid to be embarrassed by. His breath was erratic.. “Please, anything but that. I’m sorry for any wrong thing I have done to you and your people.”

Javan knew what it was like to die. It was painful, so, so very painful. He would do anything not to experience that feeling again. And those people, those cultists, were much stronger than the average person. Tiffany’s kick launched him into orbit. Even if those people were warriors, a group of those superhuman freaks would slaughter them. They would slaughter him.

“Please, I beg of you. I don’t want to die again.

“Silence your complaining, traveler.” Estreia slammed her foot on the ground. She lifted her chin high in the air so that her eyes stared at the tent ceiling.

“You do not have to fight, traveler. That is not your purpose. Instead, I want you to watch this battle and understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Understand that your safety’s secured as long as you ally yourself with me. Now come.”

Three warriors and one layman stood in a grassy marsh. They looked out at a group of red-robed cultists armed with curved daggers who marched onward to their destination. There were about twenty in total. Dracon, the man who had earlier attacked Javan, readied his words, his face full of determination. The other man stuck his spear into the earth and leaned against it, yawning loudly.

“Hey, Drakey. There are so many of these guys, aren’t there? Let's split the lot 30-70, okay. I know you’d love the opportunity to add more to your plate.” Dracon did a practice strike with his sword.

“If you think that you can’t handle this, Zephir, then just let me devour all of them. An unwilling mind always strikes with a blunt blade.” Zephir put his hand to his forehead.

“You’re an unbelievably frustrating person. If only the wit of your maxims could match your wisdom on the battlefield.”

“I’ll make it so you don’t have to raise a finger, Zephir. I know how much you hate injuries to your beautiful face.”

“And what of it, Drakey.” He stood up from leaning on his spear.

“Fine, I think you’ve said enough. I’ll dance with all of them so that you won’t even get the chance to lift the cursed blade.”

“You may try.”

“I will.”

“Silence,” said the Empress. The two men bowed their heads, their faces tomato red. Javan eyed the two warriors with worry. Two nearly shirtless men, arguing with one another before running into battle. That was a sight anyone could see in the streets at midnight. Were these supposed to be this woman’s best soldiers?

Speaking of the giant lady, she appeared to be the silliest out of all of them. The Empress, who had so boldly before claimed that she alone could defeat all the cultists, was completely unarmed. No weapon in her hands, no armor so that her chest, arms, legs, and head were completely open. The only thing on her was her jewelry, her standard clothing, and a large fan she held in her right hand. Javan was dumbfounded. Sure, she was tall and muscular, but he didn’t see how she could be useful without a weapon and defense equivalent to a ballerina. And yet, he believed that she still was the most dangerous one here. Her demeanor, her aura, sent shivers down his spine. There was something more going on here.

“Now men, remember to remain grounded. As long as we keep our ground, victory is assured.”

“Yes, Empress,” chanted the two soldiers.

“Now men, go. Devour them all!”

Their weapons readied, the two warriors charged into battle.

It shouldn’t have been possible for two regular soldiers to counter a horde of enemies. Yet, those two were far from regular. They were monsters.

Dracon managed the first hit, slashing down his opponent at lighting speed. His sword style was vicious, slashing and hacking at arms and legs and stabbing at fallen enemies. During his assault, one of the cultists managed to reach his back and struck him from behind. However, instead of hitting his back, the cultists strike a large oval shell protruding from Dracon’s backside. The dagger shattered upon impact, giving Dracon the time to down another opponent.

Zephir was a tornado of death. He maneuvered through his opponents as if the fight was choreographed, striking at just the right spots to disable the enemy. When one cultist managed to defend against his attacks, Zephir stamped his foot into the ground. In mere seconds, what was once his foot had become a giant chicken’s foot, which slammed into the opponent with bone-crushing power.

The two warriors continued attacking, transforming their bodies to create added pressure and defense. Dracon summoned small shells on his arms and legs for added defense as Zephir swung his winged arms at the approaching attackers. Javan couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“This is the power of our people,” said Estreia, as if reading Javan’s mind. Through staying grounded, we harness the knowledge stored at the planet’s center to manifest ourselves into the bodies of nature.”

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“I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it sounds insane.”

“It is an ability only the mightiest can achieve.” Estreia looked out at her men with pride.

“Are you able to do that too?”

“Of course.” For the first time, Estreia hesitated before continuing. “As a daughter of the Volcian Family it is by destiny that I should have such an ability.”

The warriors continued their assault. Their transformed power was great, but they soon realized they estimated the size of their opponents. Enemy after enemy fell, but more kept coming. The death of their own seemed only to invigorate them further rather than to deter them.

“This is looking to be troublesome, Drakey.” Zephir stabbed a cultist with his spear before turning his other hand into a beak that pierced the opponent coming from the side. He held his unarmed hand to his chest. His ability to transition between different body parts was slowing down..

“Keep on going,” yelled Dracon. He attacked still with the same ferocity, but his attacks weren’t hitting as they should. He tried to ram into a cultist with his shell shield only for the enemy to side step, delivering a nasty look slash to his arm.

“Dracon!” Zephir tried to move towards him, but more cultists appeared in front of them.

“I’m fine.” Zephir gripped his sword. “Stay back, Zephir I may have to use it.”

“That will not be necessary.” At the sound of the voice, the two men backed off to where Estreia and Javan. Estreia walked into the heat of the battle, still unarmed. Even her fan had disappeared.

“My Lady, what do you plan to do?” asked Zephir.

“Stand back. I will use my power to eliminate the rest.” A worried look crossed Dracon’s face.

“My Empress, I please ask that you don’t use your power here. It isn’t necessary.”

“It is absolutely necessary. Look at them.” The cultists edged nearer to the three warriors and Javan.

“I will deal with them quickly now.”

“But my Empress..” He was about to say something more but stopped. “Just be careful. Remember, control.”

“I know, Dracon.” She took a deep breath. The cultists marched onwards, their numbers reduced but still formidable. Estreia took in another deep breath, this time holding it, holding it, holding it some more, holding it so uncomfortably long that Javan thought she would pass out. The cultists were almost upon her now.

“Then she exhaled and a column of fire erupted from her mouth. The cultists tried to maneuver out of the way, but the fire was taken quickly and they were completely consumed by the flame. The flame continued to grow.

“Estreia, control!” The voice of Dracon echoed across the burning landscape. Javan could see Estreia's eyes concentrating. Her face was scarlet with her veins popping up to the surface. Still, she kept her composure. She stepped hard into the ground, loosening the tension in her arms. The flame began to diminish until all but embers remained.

When Estreia had closed her mouth, the entire cult attack party had been destroyed, leaving nothing but burnt land and burnt bodies.

Estreia fell to her knees.

“And what was that?” Javan asked.

“That…” Estreia said with heavy breaths. “was the power of the red dragon, one of the strongest creatures that has ever lived here.” She stared into his soul. “Do you understand now?”

Javan nodded. He now understood what that whole demonstration was about: a demonstration of power. He knew that in their hands, he would be safe. More importantly, he learned the consequences of defying them. That, he believed, was the main lesson of this battle.

It took around six hours for Estreia to recover completely. Stheno attended to the healing process. She managed to quickly heal the wounds of the armed combatants, but the exhaustion Estreia suffered from her fire breathing required much more time.

“If I wasn’t here, my Empress would have been out for the entire day.” She seemed slightly irritated.

“The Empress is wise and strong, but she should know not to summon such a large flame without any sort of preparation beforehand, especially since she’s still in training.”

“Still training?” asked Javan. “All that and she’s just in training?”

“You really do speak too much, do you, Stelly,” said Zephir laughing.”

“Sorry, it's just when the Empress is in danger. I get nervous. Talking helps calm the nerves.”

“Can your blood heal anxiety?” asked Dracon.

“No, I’m afraid. Those types of mental ails require a different sort of healing.” Zephir laughed even more.

“The power of the deceased dragons is one of the strongest transformations a person can perform,” said Dracon, facing Javan. “The dragons were once the most powerful creatures that ever lived. Only those destined for the royal candidacy can achieve such unnatural power.”

“That’s insane! There are actually dragons in this world?”

“There were dragons.” Stheno leaned her body into his. The long fork tongue that Javan decided was actually not a prosthetic swished in her mouth.

“They disappeared some time ago. We don't know why. Even our hypotheses are rather outlandish.”

“I see. Okay, but about this royal candidacy bit. I thought she was already the empress or whatever you guys said.”

“She is in our eyes,” said Stheno, but there are many candidates for the throne. You’ll see once we arrive at the capital.”

Javan had just come to terms that he was in a different world before. When he used to watch anime, he heard of the term isekai, where a person from the normal world is transported into a fantasy one with mythical creatures and attractive half-elves. He guessed that this was what happened to him only instead of transportation. He had to die.

Now, he was going to a fantastical capital with people with magical shape-shifting abilities. Part of this realization gave him hope. Maybe, there was a type of magic out there that could restore his previous life: time travel, resurrection, you name it. But for now, it was best to make friends with the Empress and her people.

“Thank you guys for healing and rescuing me.” He bowed as low as he could muster. Dracon walked towards him and placed his fist on his head.

“I apologize for my initial attack on you. I should have understood the differences in our cultures, our different fates.” His face was expressionless.

“However, I must be frank. I do not trust you, traveler. I do not know where your ignorance begins and your malice begins. Consider your safety fortified if you ever dare cross the Empress.” The tent was engulfed in silence.

“Now Drakey, you should be kinder to the kid.” Zephir walked towards him and placed his hand on his head.

“ His role might be even more important than yours in the future.”

“Speak not of it, Zephir. Honestly, you're just as gregarious as Stheno.”

“Hey,” said Stheno angrily.

Javan laughed nervously. Between Estreia’s intimidating aura and Dracon’s chilling proclamation, he wondered if he could make it out of this in one piece.

He looked at his wrist just in case this time was different. There were so many more important things to worry about, but still, he hoped that one connection carried on with him.

“What are you looking at, traveler?” asked Stheno.

“Nothing.”