I Received System to Become Dragonborn

Erend sat there in silence, his hand motionless over the glowing interface as the last schematics flickered on the screen.

His eyes weren't really looking at the device anymore. They were distant, fixed on something beyond the broken window at the far end of the chamber, where the sky bled the soft blue over the recovering palace grounds.

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of Magical currents still lingering in the air, and the soft rustle of parchment pages disturbed by the wind.

Books and Saeldir's orbs and diagrams lay scattered across the stone floor. Physical echoes of the chaotic blend of what they did that had brought them all to this moment.

He leaned back in the chair, then his eyes tracing the cracked ceiling above, his mind adrift in the heavy tide of everything he'd just read.

"Is it wise to let anyone have this knowledge?"

That thought echoed again and again like a drumbeat. The answers weren't easy. The weight of power was heavy.

He imagined it now. A kingdom — any kingdom — learning even a fraction of this.

They would think of advancement first, of course. Protection, development, survival. But it wouldn't take long for that to spiral. The temptation to dominate, conquer, win agaisnt the others would always be there.

"That's what happened to Laston," Erend realized. "He must've believed he had enough power to take the Palace. And when he nearly did, he probably thought… why stop there? Why not take it all? After all, the Praetoris didn't seem like they will come soon."

It would be no different back on Erend's original world. Humans, divided by countries, flags, ideals. They would see this knowledge and innovations, and their first instinct wouldn't be unity. It would be supremacy. It always was.

And here, in this world, with Elves, Dwarves, Humans, and all the other races barely clinging to peace after countless wars and grudges. If one of them obtained even a hint of this level of power, it would all going down quickly.

Erend took a slow breath and finally lowered his gaze from the ceiling, his eyes falling on the device again. The soft light of its screen flickered on his face.

Even Aurdis… the woman he loved, the one person he trusted to use power wisely—even she had been eager to push ahead just moments ago.

He knew her heart was in the right place. But power had a way of whispering to even the strongest minds.

And now, Erend was no longer just a human from another world. He wasn't just an ally of the Elves, or a soldier.

He was a Dragonborn.

Something ancient. Something bound to deeper duties than the rise and fall of nations.

"I'm not just a man anymore," he thought. "I'm something more and I need to act like it."

Finally, Erend made his decision.

He wouldn't destroy the device. That wasn't the answer. Knowledge should never be erased. But neither could it be shared recklessly.

The Elves would get something. The humans of his world too. Enough to defend themselves. Enough to grow and protect what mattered.

But not the weapons. Not the reality-bending devices. Not anything that could be twisted into a tool of conquest.

That knowledge would stay with him and Eccar. It would stay with the Dragonborn.

Because if someone had to carry that burden and had to make sure it never fell into the wrong hands, it should be them.

Erend closed the folders gently while the weight of his choice settling across his shoulders.

For now, Erend chose to narrow his focus and begin not with weapons or war-changing technology, but with something more important.

The knowledge of the Praetoris and the old gods.

That would be the starting point. Dangerous in its own way, but not the kind of danger that immediately spilled blood. If he was going to share anything, it would be the kind of information that made people think, not fight.

He turned his attention back to the device, navigating past the folders of innovations and weapon blueprints, finding once again the section that detailed the ancient deities and the cryptic race known as the Praetoris.

He slowed the flickering text and recording until it settled into something he could read. Then he searched for a way to carry this data without needing to rely on the laptop itself.

There had to be a way to extract it and store just this piece of information.

He looked closer at the interface, scanning the options and submenus until he found one word nestled at the edge of the screen: Print.

"Print?" Erend murmured aloud, glancing around the chamber.

There were no printers here though. He raised an eyebrow and tapped the option anyway.

The screen blinked once, then a soft mechanical whirr began to hum from within the device. Erend leaned forward, watching carefully as a hidden compartment at the side slowly shifted open.

A small object, smooth and glass-like, slid out of the slot and came to rest in a shallow cradle.

It was the size of his palm. Translucent but etched with faint patterns that shimmered in the light of the room.

Erend picked it up slowly, turning it over in his hand.

"This is it?" he wondered.

He touched the center of the glass, and suddenly, a gentle pulse of energy sparked.

A hologram flared to life above the tablet, forming the same texts he'd just read. Floating in the air, turning page by page as if carried on invisible wind.

"Huh. Convenient," Erend muttered, a small grin flickering at the edge of his lips.

Not only was the knowledge preserved, it was compact and didn't require a fragile device to access. A perfect middle ground.

He could share this with the Elves with Saeldir's help when he recovered.

He slid the tablet into a pouch at his belt and exhaled slowly, rising from the chair.

Beyond the broken window, the light of day had shifted. Warmer now. More golden than blue.

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