I Received System to Become Dragonborn Chapter 833: A Champion

The tribesn who witnessed their comrade's head erupt into a spray of crimson stood frozen in shock. They might be savage and far from the thinking patterns of civilized folk, but fear — that, they understood well enough.

Eccar's sharp, Dragonborn eyes caught the subtle shifts in their bodies as they began to edge away. They retreated, slow and wary, casting uneasy glances at him as they backed into the mist.

He smirked, finding the whole display more amusing than threatening.

But his amusent didn't blind him to the danger still looming. For the adventurers behind him, the situation was far from safe.

Their vision was choked by the thick, creeping mist, and that would make close combat chaotic and deadly. No matter how strong they were, if they couldn't see their foes, their power ant little.

Worse still, these tribesn had the ho-ground advantage. Eccar could tell — they moved through this fog like it wasn't even there, their eyes unbothered by the haze that left the adventurers struggling to see more than a few ters ahead. Unlike him, they didn't have Dragon eyes piercing through the gloom.

And yet… it wasn't over.

The retreating tribesn didn't lt away into the forest entirely. Instead, they kept their distance, hovering just beyond the reach of his power. Their gazes stayed fixed on Eccar, watching him with an energy that was less fear now… and more anticipation.

They're waiting, Eccar realized. Waiting for sothing else.

Then…

WHOOSH!

WHOOSH!

WHOOSH!

The heavy beat of massive wings echoed from above, sending powerful gusts sweeping down through the trees. The underbrush and smaller plants bent low under the force, but the mist clung stubbornly to the ground, refusing to clear.

Back across the river, the adventurers stiffened as they felt the sudden shift in the air. The pressure was real — heavy and oppressive — even if their eyes couldn't pierce the fog to see the source.

"What the hell is that now?" Selene muttered, gritting her teeth, anxiety tightening her voice. Her gloved hands flared with Magical light as she instinctively began preparing a spell.

Jan shot a look at Annette, and the priestess gave a silent nod. No words were needed; they both knew the drill.

Annette started chanting under her breath, her voice low and steady. She raised her hands, and a shimring half-do of protective light ford above them, like a shielded umbrella against whatever was coming.

The group tightened their formation imdiately, backs to each other in a circle, weapons drawn, eyes darting in every direction.

"Whatever this thing is, it's big," Hund growled, gripping his sword until his knuckles whitened.

No one argued. With the strength of the wind and the deep thrum of those wings, the creature had to be massive.

"We don't need to worry about Eccar, right?" Annette asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt at calm.

"We better worry about ourselves first," Mark muttered grimly, blade at the ready.

Annette swallowed and gave a quick nod. "Y-You're right."

Their circle held firm, every sense straining as they listened to the heavy wingbeats shift, growing lower, closer. The sound of sothing massive landing rumbled through the ground beneath their feet.

They all ca to the sa chilling conclusion: whatever this thing was, it was landing right where Eccar stood.

And they were right.

Across the river, in the midde of the mist and tribesman, Eccar's eyes narrowed as the creature finally descended before him.

His brow furrowed. He had never seen anything quite like it.

It stood tall than any human, his form an unnatural blend of man and bird. Feathers and flesh, talons and muscle, all woven into a creature that dwarfed both species in both size and presence.

Eccar shifted his stance, his smirk fading. "Now, this was sothing new."

The creature towered over him, its massive fra clad in armor crafted from a mix of hardened leather and jagged tal plates.

Across its arms, gauntlets shimred faintly with pulses of Magic energy, glowing like veins of light with every slow movent.

Eccar's sharp eyes traced the patterns, noting the runes etched along the gauntlets' surface. Definitely enchanted.

He exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

If Erend were here, Eccar thought, maybe he'd recognize this thing. Erend had spent longer in this strange world so he had seen more of its hidden corners. But right now, Erend wasn't here and that ant Eccar would have to figure this out on his own.

Then, drifting through the mist, Eccar caught the sound — a low hum, rising and falling like a chant. Or maybe it was cheering.

His senses honed in on the tribesn, scattered through the fog. They weren't running. They were watching. Their eyes glowed faintly in the gloom, full of anticipation.

"So that's it," Eccar thought. "This creature… this was their champion. The one they'd been waiting for."

His smirk widened as he rolled his shoulders and lifted his gaze. The beast-man lood above him, standing well over three ters tall. Still, Eccar showed no hint of fear.

"Hmm… alright," Eccar muttered, voice laced with amusent. "What're you gonna do now?"

His golden, slitted eyes t the champion's without flinching.

The creature's head tilted slightly, and then he spoke — his voice deep as rolling thunder, rough but clear.

"You human… You still manage that arrogant attitude, even now, standing where you stand."

Eccar's grin only sharpened.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That's just how I am."

Maybe it was Eccar's appearance that made the creature dismiss what his instincts should have warned him. Despite the reptilian gleam in Eccar's eyes the bird-like champion seed to see only a man.

Perhaps he thought the eyes were nothing more than so enchantnt, a simple trick of Magic rather than a sign of sothing more dangerous.

But before Eccar could speak again, the creature moved.

Without warning or signal the gauntleted fist shot forward with terrifying speed.

It smashed square into Eccar's chest with terrifying force laced with raw Magic.

The impact sent Eccar skidding backward, his boots tearing through the soft earth as he was shoved several paces away.

The ground trembled from the blow.

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