By Zephyria 
Dragons were monsters found only in legends.
Thus, the commonly known attributes of dragons were mostly just exaggerated versions of wyverns.
Naturally, no weaknesses were passed down, and those who claimed to have encountered dragons and survived were either boasting or joking, leading people to simply assume they were cold-blooded monsters with beautiful and elegant appearances.
The only fortunate thing was that human swords could harm it.
Even more fortunate was that I could hold its attention with my own strength.
Mage Boulder continuously scattered Mana Stones, repeating Binding like a madman. Thanks to him, the dragon, while roaring and slamming its forelegs on the ground several times, couldn’t pull its lower body out of the lake.
It would have been truly horrific if this creature could fly like a legendary dragon, or sweep the ground with a tail befitting its size.
Relentlessly,
It was struck relentlessly.
Before long, the fog had completely dispersed. Bright stars were clearly visible in the black sky.
I had hoped for Scales of Wrath beneath the dragon’s neck, but even with my eyes wide open, I found no such inverted scales. It was infuriating. At least after it unleashed its third Breath, it could no longer breathe fire, allowing me to leap into its mouth. I failed.
Seizing an opportunity, I also struck its head, using the same method I used to cleave the Sandworm and the waves. I struck it six times in the same manner, but whether it was due to the inherent toughness of its scales or my own lack of strength, I only managed to inflict minor wounds.
The dragon roared, dozens of swords lodged between its scales. Its body was so colossal that each embedded sword looked like a needle thinner than a splinter. From each wound, black smoke, not blood, billowed out. All that smoke was Contaminated Mana. At this point, I doubted if it was even a living creature.
A few Knights, struck by its sweeping foreleg, faced imminent death, but as soon as they used a Recovery Artifact, they returned to their positions, creaking bodies working like cogs in a machine.
And so, the morning sun dawned.
Everyone was exhausted. Even a superhuman would tire from continuous combat without rest, but fighting such an extraordinary opponent made everyone even more frantic. I felt pity hearing some Knights cry out their battle cries, unable to do anything more.
At one moment, white soap bubbles rose from the tip of my sword.
No. It wasn’t from my sword. The dragon I was striking, no, the beast, no, this unknown entity, was slowly melting away.
There was a similar tale in the mermaid legends passed down in Yulan.
Mermaids who couldn’t achieve their love turned into bubbles and disappeared.
Watching the dragon crumble before our eyes, everyone slowly lowered their swords. Those at the front still held their shields firmly, but those in the middle ranks, instead of charging again, froze with their swords pointed forward. A few in the rear threw Flying Daggers, but the weapons passed through the air and fell into the lake.
A hoarse voice cut through the silence.
“Illu… Illusion.”
“What?”
“Illusion Magic! Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!”
“Namdong! Everyone gather! General assembly!”
The soap bubbles that had risen to the very top of the sky poured down like rain.
I felt so hollow that I could only laugh. I simply stood askew and watched.
The terrain before my eyes changed. The ground, which had been exposed in red from the fierce clash of aura and mana, turned white. The surroundings, which had been open, receded further, and Boulder and the Knights, visible even as tiny matchsticks, completely disappeared from my sight.
In an instant, I was alone. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me.
A chessboard?
What kind of illusion was this? I was amused, wondering what game they wanted to play with me. I walked deliberately without using Light Footwork. From ahead, someone clad in black rushed towards me. Without hesitation, I cut them down in a single stroke.
I nudged the fallen figure with my sword tip. Their tongue was half-severed. Rummaging through their clothes, I saw a black crescent moon tattoo. The Silver Moon Group. A member of the Slaughterhouse I had cut down tens, hundreds of times in my past life.
I understood what this Illusion Magic was trying to show me.
After that, everything that rushed at me were beings that should not have been alive.
They were all people I had cut down at least once in my past life. Some were bandits, others were lackeys of the Demonic Cult. One was a Black Road thug who made a hobby of tormenting street vagrants, and another was a disciple of the Thousand-Faced Devil, who enjoyed rummaging through human corpses to see what was inside.
Are you trying to blame me for killing so many people?
For a long time, I cut down and killed, cut down and killed those dark figures.
Then, this time, figures clad in white walked gracefully towards Ikyun. A hollow laugh escaped me.
My sworn friends from my past life drew their swords and attacked me.
I parried Hwasan’s sword and deflected Jongnam’s sword.
I pulled Hae Nam’s sword and pushed away Shaolin’s fist techniques.
The Sword Paths, drawn and curved in familiar ways, were now too slow for my eyes. Not only the sword that kills, but the sword that saves is also a sword. Now, I could decide whether to kill or save my opponent with my own hands.
By not killing, my techniques increased.
I simultaneously faced the swords of dozens of Orthodox Sect martial artists. Since I was only one person, the method was simple. I watched all directions—front, back, left, and right—and blocked sequentially. I blocked and twisted Moyong’s sword and the Peng family’s saber, which thrust in simultaneously, with my hands and sword.
However, it was suspicious. My strength had no effect on any of them. I was gradually pushed into a defensive position.
At that moment, a Parasol Hat flew in from a distance. I leaped up and looked down.
A familiar face. Jegal stood with his hands behind his back, looking up at me. His face was expressionless.
“Do you think you can win everything with brute force? How strong can you possibly be?”
What was he talking about? With a single gesture, I could crush you like an insect.
“Look. Do you think this energy is entirely yours? Do you think you can just gather it all up and pour it out?”
That’s…
“Didn’t you want to forge a sword named after yourself?”
…I…
“Have you forgotten everything?”
I had forgotten. I had lived forgetting.
I rejoiced in the new strength I had gained, finding it formidable. Wielding great power, I found most things easy. But what if, instead of simply bringing down my sword with a surge of aura, I had cleaved through the wind using the methods I had upheld my entire life?
With the strength I possess now, would I have struggled against just one dragon?
I was born a martial artist of Namgung and raised as a knight of Sierren. I don’t know when I forgot my roots. Was it from Yulan? From the Sanctuary of the Sun? While crossing the desert? Immediately after finding the Oasis? No, no. It was after hearing my old name, Namgung Jeong-yeon, spoken by others.
I tried to abandon myself to live in this land.
I wanted to build a high wall between myself and those who led the filthy zombies, and declare that I was not like them.
How can a rootless tree bear flowers?
My sword began to glow with white and blue light. It was the calm light that the people of this land called Divine Power, igniting my sword with a white flame. Without hesitation, I drew my sword. I infused the newly acquired righteous path into the heavenly path I knew. I didn’t know how long it had been since I last wielded my sword, executing proper techniques.
Then, the forms of my friends before me distorted and vanished.
Now, only one figure stood tall before me.
He was clad in black silk embroidered with red. He wore a golden crown atop his neatly combed hair and rings adorned with gold and jade on all ten fingers. His eyes, painted black and red, were made to appear several times larger, as if he were not of this mortal realm.
His lips, heavily rouged, parted.
“I, to establish the laws of this unruly land,”
“It’s you.”
The Heavenly Demon. The master of Ten Thousand Demons and the leader of the Demonic Cult.
In my previous life, I would have charged at him without a second thought for my own life. The resentment that hundreds, thousands of Thousand-Faced Devils couldn’t quell.
When I first desperately sought to reach Hwagyeong, I harbored the desire to kill him with my own hands. Yet, I thought his realm was beyond my reach. For a very long time.
Even in that final moment, instead of charging at the Heavenly Demon, I sought out the Thousand-Faced Devil and cut my way through his subordinates. That timid heart forged the me of today.
Now, I must overcome it. If I am a martial artist of Hwagyeong, shouldn’t I be ready to stand on equal footing with him? I calmed my mind.
I no longer rage.
The me of today wanted to live. There were thousands, tens of thousands of reasons to live, far more than reasons to die. I calmly settled my breathing and held my sword upright before my Dantian.
Then, the Heavenly Demon smiled faintly.
His loosened black hair turned white from the roots. His face brightened with a gentler, softer expression. His eyes, blinked open, were a clear grass green. I already knew these eyes.
The man who bore the exact same appearance as Seongsang, whom I had met before, had a calm demeanor.
He was shorter than Seongsang and more human. His eye level was even lower than mine, with a stature of barely 175cm. Only the subtle Divinity emanating around him proved he was no ordinary human.
“The others.”
“They are all safe. If you hadn’t realized it until the end, it might have been different.”
“Where are they?”
“Here.”
The man raised both hands high. A large glass bottle descended from the sky.
It was a bottle with a blunt shape, like an ink bottle I had once used a quill pen with, magnified dozens of times. Inside, my companions lay unconscious, slumped in their places.
A deep sigh, rising from my Dantian, escaped my lips.
“What is the purpose of this morbid taste?”
“I merely showed you what you desired.”
“Me?”
“You.”
No, that wasn’t it.
But I… I remembered the words of the child who said there was no need to argue with gods.
I also recalled the dozen or so questions I had prepared in advance.
I calmly lowered my gaze, then immediately opened my eyes.
“Was it you who summoned me to this world?”