Dragon.
The strongest creature on the continent, reigning at the apex of the seven races. The master of the firmament, a being that grew infinitely, fueled by the passage of time. At this moment, the dragon that had manifested in the skies above the battlefield—the “Guardian Dragon”—looked down upon its enemies with a gaze that was both composed and haughty. It read the myriad emotions etched in their eyes: terror, bewilderment, and a faint, lingering sense of awe.
These were familiar gazes to a dragon. All creatures of the earth reveal the same emotions when they behold the master of the sky. In this moment, the Guardian Dragon, wings outspread, acted in a manner that was quintessentially “dragon-like.” It savored the fear harbored by the insignificant insects for a heartbeat, reaffirming its own greatness, and in the next, it began to sweep those lowly creatures from its sight.
It was an excessively easy task for a dragon. There was no need to employ weapons like Dragon Speech to invoke miracles, nor did it need to use its massive, crushing weight or the diverse magics it knew instinctively from birth. It merely did what all living things must: it took a breath, and it exhaled. While breathing is an essential act of life for other creatures, for a dragon, that breath holds a different meaning. The mana inhaled by a dragon is converted into pure elements within its lungs, and a specialized organ near the trachea transforms those elements into violence—a merciless violence that destroys everything in its path.
“Deploy the shields!” the commander of the “Great Land” Conquest Army shouted urgently.
In response, the few mages who had narrowly survived Valkyrie Maia’s raid clumsily deployed their barriers—transparent shields intended to repel external attacks. However, it was impossible for magic woven by mere humans to resist the breath of a dragon, the being hailed as the most “perfect existence” among the seven races.
“We can’t block i—”
A single beam of light lanced down from the sky. The beam struck the center of the tightly packed Conquest Army, and a crimson dot appeared. That dot moved in the direction the dragon’s maw pointed, carving a long, scorched line across the battlefield. Nothing remained where the line passed. A vast number of soldiers met their deaths without leaving so much as a trace.
Even those lucky enough to survive faced a grim fate. Soldiers who had lost limbs or parts of their torsos to the intense light crawled through the dirt, screaming in agony. The bravery of the Conquest Army faltered at the horrific sight. The broken forms of comrades they had been speaking to just moments ago inflicted deep psychological trauma.
Yet, the Conquest Army of the “Great Land,” famous for never retreating, did not lose its courage. Even in the face of overwhelming death, they fought to the end. The Guardian Dragon, descended here to protect Han, knew this well. Thus, it opened its maw wide and, instead of exhaling its breath, let out a powerful roar, sending pure mana vibrating through the atmosphere.
“────!”
A violent cacophony of sound waves, incomparable to the low-frequency growls of wild beasts, crashed over the cavalry. Dragon Fear. As the creature at the very top of the continent’s ecosystem howled, the horses of the Conquest Army cavalry stopped dead in their tracks. The survival instinct latent within the human species brought them to a grinding halt. An irresistible fear encroached upon the soldiers’ minds like a spreading disease.
Furthermore…
“Uwaagh—!”
The horses the cavalrymen were riding began to go mad, bolting simultaneously. Every soldier atop a mount was thrown off. The formation was shattered into a chaotic mess, and soldiers were trampled or killed in succession by the kicks of the rampaging horses. Amidst the carnage, the commander screamed.
“Ar—Arrows! Arrows! Javelins! Anything—!”
With his eardrums ringing, the commander barely managed to hold onto his sanity and issue orders. The soldiers obeyed. A barrage of projectiles was unleashed. Fortunately, a few reached the dragon positioned high in the air. But it was meaningless. It wasn’t that the dragon couldn’t dodge them; it simply didn’t. It felt no need to.
“Ah…”
A dragon’s scales are the hardest substance in existence. To even leave a scratch on them, one would need a weapon forged from the “Three Great Metals” or a blade wielded by a “Swordmaster” capable of cutting anything on the continent. A deep sense of defeat washed over the commander’s face as he belatedly recalled that fact. How could they overcome this? The Descendant of Khan, the only one considered capable of rivaling a dragon, was not here…
Then, a voice drifted from somewhere nearby.
“It will disappear soon. Don’t worry, just minimize the current damage. They say the Guardian Dragon can only run wild for a limit of one minute.”
It was the fighters from the Eastern Continent.
These were participants of the event who knew that the dragon was a recreation manifested by a witch’s magic—that it could only be used three times, and that it carried a strict one-minute restriction.
“The situation looks desperate if you only look at the dead, but in truth, the numbers of the Conquest Army have hardly decreased. After all… aren’t they disgustingly numerous? The soldiers of this legion.”
They were not afraid of this sudden turn of events.
Fighters from the East, especially those from Han, had seen and experienced the actual war of the past with their own eyes, not just a recreation. And such people did not harbor a single doubt that this fight would end in the victory of the Great Land’s Conquest Army.
A Dragon’s Relic?
Exceptionally skilled fighters?
The help of the great Guardian Dragon?
“I don’t know why they’re afraid.”
None of that mattered. In the end, the victor would be the Conquest Army of the “Great Land.” They knew because they had experienced it firsthand.
The Guardian Dragon that protected Han actually existed during the original Conquest War. The dragon, which had previously only appeared in founding myths, joined the war for Han in its moment of crisis and incinerated the treacherous enemies. The legions of Han considered the appearance of the Guardian Dragon to be a miracle—a miracle sent by God to save them.
Everyone, except for the King who had boldly declared he would not surrender, praised that miracle. Hope surged that they might be able to protect their peninsula from the wicked Conquest Army.
The Guardian Dragon that appeared during the actual Conquest War was far more powerful than the one recreated in this virtual world. That dragon was skilled in strategy and tactics, as befitting a wise ancient, and utilized the various mysteries inherent to its kind at the perfect moments. The cavalry, the very symbol of the Conquest Army, had been helpless before the dragon’s roar, and its breath had burned the infinitely swarming legions into piles of ash.
Yes, the majesty the Guardian Dragon showed back then was incomparable to now. Furthermore, the Guardian Dragon of the actual war had no one-minute limit. The dragon, flying loftily in the sky, had stayed with Han throughout the entire conflict.
But…
“There is nothing you people cannot tear down. For you are the invincible legion.”
Despite everything, Han fell.
The fighter still remembered that day. The city walls collapsing miserably, the sound of sword strokes and screams echoing from within the breached gates, the butchered corpses, and the Guardian Dragon lying dead with its tongue lolling out…
The malice of the conqueror who trampled the Eastern Continent could not be suppressed even by a phantom existence from a founding myth. It would be no different this time. Cruel malice would tear down the walls and burn everything to the ground. Just like that day when Han vanished into the shadows of history.
* * *
The performance of the Guardian Dragon summoned by the Dragon Sword exceeded my expectations. The defenders, who were on the verge of being pushed back to the walls, were able to secure space and reform their lines. Moreover, it broke the surging momentum of the enemies. In a large-scale battle like this, shattering enemy morale is crucial. It was a pity that only two opportunities to summon the Guardian Dragon remained, but it was a necessary sacrifice to survive the remaining time.
The cavalry floundered, and panic rippled through the Conquest Army. Meanwhile, as the minute passed, the sky that had opened began to slowly close. The Guardian Dragon that had been sweeping through the enemies vanished like smoke. I sheathed the Dragon Sword and drew the Winter Steel sword I had received from Dwight.
Then, the voice of the Arena announcer rang out.
The announcer’s voice was fervent.
Listening to him, it was clear he was grandstanding to drive up the auction prices of the Dragon’s Relics as much as possible after this event ended. It was absurd to see him using my name to sell them, but what could I do? Regardless, I wasn’t in a position to worry about the outside world right now.
“There are still a hell of a lot of them.”
The number of the Conquest Army was still excessively high. It felt less like a military force and more like a single, massive wave—a natural phenomenon that repeatedly crashed and surged. Honestly, it was enough to make one sick.
I have to save the remaining two for more critical moments. Since the immediate crisis has passed, I can use them as a trump card when needed.
Yes. The task of the defenders was to hold this place, not to annihilate every single enemy.
There were still over 23 hours left. It felt as if several days had already passed.
The announcer laughed like a clown while looking down at the fighting gladiators.
As swords clashed and a war of the past was recreated, the humans in the amphitheater enjoyed gambling over the outcome. A surge of anger rose for a moment at the ridiculous sight, but I soon let it go. Instead, I looked not at the distance, but at what was close.
There is an enemy before me. And there is a sword in my hand. Only those two things matter right now.
「Go, little descendant.」
* * *
I saw a “Path” piercing through the countless throngs of people.
I swung my sword along that continuous path. The swinging blade splattered blood and took a life. When one person died, two more lunged from behind. I transitioned from a stabbing posture to a slashing one. Whenever my movements seemed about to break, I spun once, scattering sword strikes around me. The swords I had devoured thus far revealed themselves in sequence, cutting down the enemies.
What proved helpful in this melee was the “Fang.”
Amidst the mindless surge of humans, the Assassin of the Free City had taught me how to hide within the presence of others. I stripped the uniform from a corpse of the “Great Land” Conquest Army and draped it over myself. By smearing a bit of blood on my face, I erased my presence. When I revealed and then hid my presence again, the enemies were often startled, as if I had vanished and reappeared.
On the noisy battlefield, I swung a knight’s sword with an assassin’s step.
I killed three or four with the surprise attack of a mercenary who had perished in vain, and when surrounded by enemies, the swordplay of the Ronin who had lived like the wind summoned a whirlwind. Along the continuous path, the way forward, I moved without stopping. The countless sword strokes drained my stamina in an instant, and at times, my breath caught in my throat, blurring my vision.
Even with a Heart of Steel, stamina is not infinite. There were moments when my consciousness seemed to flicker, leaving me dazed. In those moments, without exception, blades were aimed at my vitals. I barely held onto my sanity and dodged, but my movements were sluggish, resulting in small scratches. Though the bleeding was minor, it accumulated, draining my strength. I began to think that I might die an unlucky death from a stray blade or a random arrow.
Willpower and fighting spirit could not burn forever.
At every moment, a strange lethargy seized my body. It felt as if drowsiness were pouring over me. I was confused whether I was swinging my sword or floundering in water. The loud noises around me echoed like a distant hum. I was dazed. War was quieter than I thought…
“Sword Demon! Snap! Out of it!”
With a thud and a shock that vibrated through my body, I was sent flying. Only then did I come to my senses. The humming sounds around me turned back into distinct noise. The clashing of spears and swords, cheers, screams, and the sound of flesh and bone breaking filled the air. I barely pushed myself up from the dirt. My chest throbbed with pain. I saw a crack in the chest area of my mithril armor.
Looking forward with a dazed face, I saw Maia. Valkyrie Maia, with her wings spread.
“Do not fall into the lethargy of war! Even if your stamina fails and the tedious sword strokes continue, you must still glare clearly at what is before you! Even if Death calls for you, shout that today is not the time!”
Valkyrie Maia was cutting down enemies with her spear and sword. Beautifully, like a dancer.
「How is it, little descendant? Is it not different from what you read in chivalric novels?」 Liam spoke calmly. 「War is, by nature, like this.」
“…”
「It begins with a plausible justification, but once the war starts, the soldiers thrown into it eventually stop thinking altogether. Conviction, victory, the realm of the sword—all those things are forgotten. Only questions like ‘What is the meaning of all this?’ and ‘Why am I here?’ sweep through the mind.」
Blood splattered. Valkyrie Maia roared like a beast.
「After overcoming the endless meaninglessness, longing arrives. The desire to return to a warm home instead of a battlefield like this. Useless distractions like wanting to lie down in the arms of family, before a hot hearth, and sleep peacefully.」
The Valkyrie’s wings shimmered. A long spear pierced an enemy’s head. Another fighter lunged forward, pushing back the Conquest Army.
「Perhaps your revenge is also like this war, little descendant. Anger and a desire for revenge are like a flash of fire. Those emotions burn hot and large, but they are ultimately the kind that are consumed. After using everything as fuel, only emptiness will follow. Like the meaninglessness and lethargy you just felt.」
“…”
「You might regret it someday. That you should never have started revenge in the first place, that you should have lived a more meaningful life instead of surrendering your body to such anger. Such thoughts might seize and torment you.」
Everyone is fighting.
「But even so, as long as you hold a sword, as long as you have decided to move forward, there is no way back.」
“…”
「The only place you can go is forward. The only place left for you to go is up there.」
My heart thundered.
「So, grip your sword, little descendant. As you always have.」
The thundering heartbeat supplied blood to my entire body. The beat of the second heart granted me superhuman strength and made my sword sharp. I must move forward. The place I could return to has already collapsed. My destination is ahead. It is up there.
Only then did I truly come to my senses. And…
“…”
I saw a woman moving quietly beyond the chaos. Her sword did not suit the war. The sound her sword scattered was quiet, yet it resonated softly through the noise of the battlefield. The light created by her sword was cool yet beautiful—like a star in the night sky that captures all gazes and overwhelms its surroundings.
I knew the master of that sword, beautiful as a star.
The Genius. The Black Bride, Seol-yoon.
Through the gap in my helmet, I locked eyes with her.
For a moment, it felt as if the world had stopped. It was the first time I had seen such an expression on her face since I had known her. Seol-yoon’s eyes looked sad.
Truly, deeply sad.
* * *
「Time remaining until the end of the Conquest War: 21:47:13」
