The Narrator
Four years had passed...
Four long years...
Since that unforgettable night.
The night when the Legendary Dragon...
Liza...
Opened her eyes for the first time in two thousand years.
At first...
The world did not understand what had happened.
For two thousand years, the name of the Legendary Dragon had existed only inside ancient records, forgotten legends, and stories passed down through generations.
Some called her a guardian.
Others called her a disaster waiting to awaken.
But no one had ever expected...
That the being who had remained silent for two thousand years...
Would open her eyes once again.
Then...
The news arrived.
And the world changed.
Like a single spark falling into a field of dry grass...
The name of the Legendary Dragon spread across the entire continent.
"Liza has awakened..."
The words traveled across mountains...
Across oceans...
Across countless kingdoms.
Messengers rode without rest.
Their horses raced along endless roads beneath burning sunlight and freezing nights.
Gallop...
Gallop...
Gallop...
Some collapsed from exhaustion.
Some continued even after their bodies begged them to stop.
Because this was not ordinary news.
This was a message that could decide the fate of the world.
Carrier birds filled the skies.
Letters sealed with royal crests crossed the continent.
Merchant caravans stopped their journeys.
Travelers gathered in every town square.
And everywhere...
The same question was whispered.
"Why has the Legendary Dragon awakened?"
Inside magnificent royal castles...
Emergency meetings began.
Kings gathered around enormous maps.
Generals pointed toward the distant sacred mountain.
Ancient records that had remained untouched for centuries were opened once again.
"The last time Liza moved..."
"Entire nations trembled."
Those words were spoken with fear.
Not because people knew what would happen...
But because they remembered what could happen.
Blacksmiths worked day and night.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Swords were reforged.
Armor was repaired.
Weapons that had been sleeping inside royal vaults were brought back into the light.
Adventurers abandoned their ordinary quests.
The strongest warriors prepared themselves.
Not for a battle...
But for a possibility.
In ancient churches...
The bells rang from sunrise until nightfall.
Dong...
Dong...
Dong...
Priests and priestesses knelt before sacred altars.
Their voices filled the halls with endless prayers.
Some prayed for protection.
Some prayed for peace.
Others simply prayed...
To survive.
Even ordinary people felt the fear.
Children whispered the Legendary Dragon's name with trembling voices.
Mothers held their children closer during the night.
Old men looked toward the distant mountains...
Remembering the stories passed down by their ancestors.
The entire continent waited.
Holding its breath.
For a brief moment...
Everyone believed...
That a new era had begun.
But...
Nothing happened.
No flames descended from the heavens.
No kingdoms fell.
No armies marched.
No dragon appeared in the sky.
The world waited.
One day...
Two days...
A week...
A month...
Still...
Nothing.
The days quietly became weeks.
The weeks became months.
The months slowly became years.
And as time passed...
The world continued moving forward.
Spring arrived.
Flowers bloomed across peaceful valleys.
Summer followed.
Rivers sparkled beneath the warm sunlight.
Autumn painted forests with golden and crimson colors.
Winter covered mountains beneath endless white snow.
Seasons changed.
People changed.
Generations continued.
But one thing remained the same.
The sacred mountain stayed silent.
Liza never left.
This content has been unlawfully taken from NovelFire; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She never attacked.
She never spoke.
She never spread her enormous wings across the sky.
She simply remained there...
Silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if the world below had nothing to do with her.
Eventually...
Fear began to disappear.
People slowly returned to their normal lives.
Kings stopped their emergency meetings.
Adventurers accepted new quests.
Merchants reopened forgotten trade routes.
Markets became lively once again.
Children laughed without fear.
The churches rang their bells once more...
Not for danger...
But for celebration.
The world convinced itself...
That the Legendary Dragon had only awakened for a moment...
Before returning to her endless sleep.
Life continued...
Exactly as it always had.
...
Or so everyone believed.
Far away from the great kingdoms...
Near the border of the cursed Death Forest...
Beside a peaceful river...
There existed a small village.
A village untouched by the greed of nobles.
Untouched by wars between kingdoms.
Untouched by the ambitions of powerful rulers.
A place where people lived simple lives.
A place known as...
Restart Village.
The first rays of the morning sun slowly rose above the distant mountains.
Golden light passed through the branches of ancient trees.
A gentle breeze moved across the open fields.
Whoooosh...
Tall grass swayed like waves across a green ocean.
Morning dew shimmered upon every blade.
Tiny butterflies danced between colorful flowers.
Birds welcomed the new day.
Chirp...
Chirp...
Smoke gently rose from wooden houses.
The warm scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the cool morning air.
Farmers walked toward their fields.
Children ran through village paths.
Old villagers smiled while greeting their neighbors.
Some prepared fishing nets beside the river.
Others repaired tools for the day's work.
Everything felt peaceful.
Everything felt alive.
As if the village itself was breathing together with nature.
Here...
Every sunrise began with hard work.
The people survived through:
Farming.
Fishing.
And hunting.
Their fields provided food.
The river provided fresh water and fish.
And the Death Forest...
Provided everything else.
Medicinal herbs.
Rare fruits.
Monster materials.
Strong timber.
Even magical ores hidden beneath ancient soil.
It was a blessing...
And a curse.
Because beyond the peaceful village...
The Death Forest waited.
A place where ordinary people feared to step.
A place where even experienced warriors walked carefully.
The deeper one entered...
The more silent the forest became.
The cheerful songs of birds slowly disappeared.
The warmth of sunlight struggled to reach the ground.
Cold mist wrapped itself around ancient roots.
Rustle...
Leaves moved within the darkness...
Even when no wind existed.
The enormous trees stood like forgotten giants, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky.
The forest felt alive.
As if it was watching every creature that entered its domain.
Somewhere deep within the darkness...
Two crimson eyes slowly opened.
Grrrrr...
A low growl echoed between the ancient trees.
Far away...
Another beast answered.
Rooooar...
The sound shook the forest.
Ancient magical beasts ruled the endless wilderness.
Goblin tribes hid among the shadows.
Venomous creatures moved beneath fallen leaves.
Massive predators hunted silently between the trees.
Creatures older than human civilization slept beneath forgotten lands.
The Death Forest followed only one rule.
The strong survived.
The weak disappeared.
Nature itself showed no mercy.
Yet...
The hunters of Restart Village entered this terrifying forest every day.
Not because they were fearless.
They knew death could be waiting behind any tree.
One wrong step...
One mistake...
One moment of carelessness...
Could mean never returning home.
Every morning before entering the forest...
They looked at their families.
They remembered the people waiting for them.
Their wives.
Their children.
Their friends.
And that was the reason they continued.
Not for fame.
Not for glory.
Not for wealth.
Only to protect the lives they loved.
Because sometimes...
Survival demanded courage.
The people of Restart Village carried another tradition.
One older than the village itself.
A tradition passed down through countless generations.
Deep within the Death Forest...
Beyond forgotten ruins...
Beyond rivers untouched by mankind...
Beyond towering cliffs covered in ancient trees...
There stood a sacred mountain.
A mountain that pierced the clouds.
Its peak disappeared beyond the heavens.
And upon that mountain...
Rested the Legendary Dragon.
Liza.
Every full moon...
The villagers climbed part of the sacred mountain.
They carried flowers from their fields.
Fresh fruits from their harvest.
And handmade offerings created with love and respect.
Children folded their tiny hands in prayer.
The elders lowered their heads.
Hunters silently thanked her before entering the Death Forest.
Farmers prayed for a successful harvest.
Parents prayed for the safety of their children.
Every wish...
Every hope...
Every heartfelt prayer...
Was offered beneath her name.
To outsiders...
The Legendary Dragon was a calamity.
A being capable of destroying civilizations.
A terrifying existence that could change the fate of nations.
But to Restart Village...
She was different.
Because they believed...
True protection did not always appear through miracles.
Sometimes...
It existed silently.
Watching from afar.
And perhaps...
That was why the village remained peaceful.
Because beneath the shadow of the Legendary Dragon...
Life continued.
Far away from the sacred mountain...
The river continued flowing through Restart Village.
Splash...
Splash...
Its clear water reflected the golden sunlight.
A gentle breeze traveled across the fields.
Whoooosh...
It moved through the wheat.
It touched the ancient trees.
It carried the sweet scent of flowers throughout the village.
Birds sang above the rooftops.
Chirp...
Chirp...
Children laughed.
Farmers worked.
Hunters prepared for another journey.
To everyone...
It was simply another peaceful morning.
No one realized...
That destiny had already begun moving.
At the center of Restart Village...
Stood a simple wooden house.
Unlike the grand castles of kings...
Or the luxurious mansions of nobles...
This house was modest.
Its walls were plain.
Its roof had endured countless seasons.
Rain.
Wind.
Snow.
Yet...
The warmth inside this small home was greater than any royal palace.
Because this was not a house built with wealth.
It was a house built with love.
This was the residence of the village chief.
Brald White.
Brald White was a Dark Elf respected by everyone in Restart Village.
He was not the strongest warrior.
He was not the richest man.
Yet whenever uncertainty or danger approached...
The villagers naturally looked toward him.
Not because they feared his authority.
But because they trusted his heart.
His wisdom had guided the village for many years.
The morning sun climbed higher into the sky.
Golden light passed through the emerald leaves.
Painting shimmering patterns across the village clearing.
A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of wildflowers.
Whoooosh...
Nearby...
The river continued its peaceful song.
Splash...
Splash...
Then...
Another sound joined the morning.
Tak!
A wooden sword cut through the air.
Whoosh!
Tak!
Again.
Whoosh!
Tak!
Again.
The rhythmic sound echoed across the clearing.
At the center of the field...
A small boy stood alone.
He was only four years old.
His tiny hands tightly gripped a wooden sword.
His arms trembled from exhaustion.
Sweat covered his forehead.
His breathing became heavier.
"Haa..."
"Haa..."
But...
He refused to stop.
His stance was imperfect.
His movements were unpolished.
His strength was far too small.
Yet...
His emerald eyes burned with determination far beyond his age.
Again...
He raised his sword.
Again...
He swung.
Whoosh!
The wooden blade moved through the air.
Each swing was slightly better than the previous one.
Every mistake became a lesson.
Every fall became experience.
The little boy was not special because he never failed.
He was special...
Because he never gave up.
Not far away...
A tall Dark Elf watched silently.
His arms were crossed.
His long silver hair moved gently with the breeze.
A small smile appeared on his calm face.
It was...
Brald White.
"...Still practicing."
His voice was quiet.
There was pride in his eyes.
But also concern.
"He pushes himself too much..."
Before he could call out...
The wooden door behind him opened.
Creeeak...
A beautiful human woman stepped outside.
She carried a wooden cup filled with fresh water.
Her long hair danced softly in the morning wind.
Her gentle eyes immediately found the little boy.
A warm smile appeared on her face.
She was...
Lily White.
"He started before sunrise again..."
She said softly.
Brald sighed.
"Of course he did."
"He never listens when I tell him to rest."
Lily smiled.
"I wonder where he got that stubbornness from."
Brald looked away.
"...Definitely not from me."
Giggle...
Lily laughed softly.
"I remember someone who trained until his hands were covered in wounds."
Brald became silent.
"...You remember too much."
Their laughter blended with the sounds of nature.
The birds.
The river.
The wind.
The peaceful morning became even warmer.
The little boy finally noticed them.
His tired expression instantly changed.
His emerald eyes brightened.
"Mom!"
"Dad!"
A cheerful smile appeared on his face.
Without thinking...
He ran toward them.
Still holding his wooden sword.
"Look!"
"I got better!"
His small feet moved quickly across the grass.
The morning sunlight reflected against his snow-white hair as he ran.
The gentle wind followed behind him.
Almost as if nature itself was watching the little boy's happiness.
But...
His excitement made him forget to look ahead.
His small foot caught on a hidden tree root.
"...Ah!"
His eyes widened.
Thud!
He fell onto the soft grass.
The wooden sword slipped from his hand and rolled away.
For a brief moment...
Everything became silent.
Only the sound of the wind remained.
Whoooosh...
A small leaf slowly drifted down from above.
Landing gently upon his shoulder.
The little boy looked at the leaf.
Then he looked at his wooden sword lying nearby.
For a moment...
He simply sat there.
But then...
A bright smile appeared on his face.
"Hehe..."
Without complaining.
Without frustration.
Without shedding a single tear...
He stood back up.
Brushed the dirt from his clothes.
Picked up his wooden sword.
And walked back toward his parents.
Lily covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Brald simply shook his head with an amused smile.
"You really don't know how to stay down, do you?"
The little boy proudly raised his head.
"No!"
"I'll become really strong someday!"
"So falling doesn't matter!"
His innocent voice echoed through the peaceful clearing.
For a brief moment...
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Brald looked quietly into his son's determined
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter