The Chain Throne (5)
Since arriving on this continent, Dalen hadn’t always resorted to violence to solve his problems.
Sure, it was easier that way. The body he inhabited was perfectly suited for breaking and slicing things apart.
But sometimes, there were opponents his sword couldn’t touch, and occasionally, he even needed their help.
“Everon Raktala.”
Like when he handed over the essence of a demon to one of the twenty-six transcendents of the Golden Palace to gain their favor.
“Kylebercus Arburn.”
Or when he exposed the true identity of a bartender no one knew about to secure a deal for enhancing his physical form.
And now.
[You’d better watch your words carefully, human.]
He faced a true dragon settled in his domain, much like those previous encounters.
[Know that my silence in your realm was never because I favored you.]
A great dragon, forced into the role of a tool in a mortal’s domain, was not pleased from the start. What kind of persuasion would work on such a being?
The answer was clear from the beginning.
“That’s an interesting story.”
Dalen’s lips curled into a sly smile.
“Shouldn’t you be grateful to have a place to rest, considering you’re a godforsaken dragon with nowhere else to go?”
He taunted.
Words that a mere mortal should never dare to utter to an immortal being, especially when he desperately needed its help.
[Tsk.]
The dragon merely clicked its tongue, offering no rebuttal.
Perhaps it was because Dalen had struck a nerve. He quickly chose his next words.
Even as he spoke, the demon’s assault continued unabated.
Dalen had awakened the dragon’s power, and the demon knew its chances of victory were no longer certain.
Ancient runes on a massive sword glowed, curses rained down, and the sky above opened, unleashing a relentless storm of chain lightning.
With a fiery sword, Dalen countered. The crimson flames consumed the cold and shattered the chains in their path.
But it was impossible to fend off every attack with uncontrollable power.
Chains that evaded the scattered flames steadily wore down his body and stamina.
“Damn it.”
Time was not on his side. As he prepared to speak to the silent dragon once more, he thought, “Consider this: I’m offering you a chance to rise again…”
[You are not a transcendent, human.]
The dragon’s voice cut through his thoughts, resonating deeply.
[The old wizard you serve thought you were a regressor, but even that isn’t true.]
“That’s right.”
Dalen admitted. There was no point in hiding it from a dragon nestled within his domain.
[Then explain how you spoke with such certainty about me. My existence has long been forgotten in human history.]
The dragon’s voice was calmer now, more curious than angry.
Halfway to his goal, Dalen crafted his response carefully.
“Though history has forgotten you, I’ve heard of your name through other means.”
The Spear of the Dragon God, the Nameless Dragon.
A being that never appeared directly, even in the final stages of the game, yet wasn’t completely shrouded in mystery.
“They say the spear wielded by the Dragon God once evaporated seas and obliterated mountain ranges.”
It was only natural.
Among the true dragons, only thirteen were directly tied to the Dragon God.
Legend had it that the power of the Spear was among the top three even among them.
How could such a being be completely erased from the world?
“The key point is that despite being such a powerful servant of the Dragon God, you lost your name.”
Or rather, it was taken from you.
For a dragon, its true name is its very existence. Losing it means losing one’s identity.
“I believe there’s only one being who could take your name.”
The Dragon God.
The ruler of all dragons.
What happened behind the scenes of history is unknown. What conflict arose between the Spear and the Dragon God, and how it led to one being nearly erased.
But the past is the past, and only the result remains.
Having your name taken by the Dragon God meant being erased from the dragon’s records.
And a servant abandoned by its lord would naturally harbor certain thoughts.
“Do you wish to face the Dragon God?”
[…]
“I can take you to the Dragon God.”
The silent dragon’s presence lingered. Dalen bared his teeth slightly.
“You must have thought the same. You’ve seen how my domain has changed. That’s why you’ve stayed here, isn’t it? If you wanted, you could have unleashed your power and killed me several times over.”
After the last exchange, the dragon remained silent for a while. Dalen waited patiently.
[Ha! You’re lukewarm, warrior! Show me more fire!]
Even as he faced the demon’s relentless spells and powers, he maintained his composure.
How much time passed like that?
[For a mere mortal, you’re quite confident. Arrogant doesn’t even begin to cover it.]
Just as the demon’s assault began to feel overwhelming, the dragon spoke.
[But fine, I’ll place my bet on you. Will the scales of fate tip in your favor, or towards the five gods of the abyss?]
The dragon’s voice carried a hint of undisguised interest and anticipation.
From the peak of a sheer snowy mountain, the dragon slowly rose.
He spoke.
[Consider dealing with that brat as the price of admission.]
Flames ignited in the air.
A small, dark, viscous flame.
Dalen reached out and gently grasped the flower of fire that bloomed no larger than a fist.
“What the…”
Dalen was taken aback. It wasn’t his doing.
His limbs began to move on their own, but there was no time to be surprised.
[Ha! You’ve given up, then die!]
Seizing the brief opening, Kalkas unleashed his full power.
Chains filled the air, leaving no escape.
[Tsk.]
A short, disdainful click of the tongue escaped Dalen’s lips.
The hand holding the flame slowly extended forward.
Fssst—
[…What?]
There was emptiness.
The approaching wave of chains, the hellish cold layered over them, and the demon’s curses weaving through it all—everything evaporated in an instant, leaving nothing but a void.
[W-What, no, how…]
The demon on the throne blinked in disbelief. Dalen, the one who had extended his hand, was equally stunned.
“What on earth…”
It wasn’t blocked. Nor was it neutralized or deflected.
Even with his inhuman skill and magical prowess, he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
No, he couldn’t even grasp what had occurred.
”…The power of the true dragon.”
But instinctively, he knew.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded heavily. Dragon’s blood coursed through his veins. A trickle of blood ran from his nose, and the droplets sizzled as they hit the ground.
[Stay conscious. If you pass out, I can’t use my power either.]
The dragon spoke. Dalen clung to his fading vision.
[You promised to take me to the Dragon God, yet you carry around a body like this. When we return, have that old fool who can’t escape the shackles of love from millennia ago make you a new heart.]
Footsteps approached.
A slightly blurred figure stood beside him.
A hazy silhouette in black, Eastern-style robes.
It was short, barely reaching Dalen’s chest. The hair was short, with streaks of red mixed into the black, and the eyes were slit vertically, gleaming with two colors.
Though it was the first time seeing this form, Dalen knew who it was. He spoke quietly.
“The Spear.”
[Yes.]
“Did you accept the deal?”
He had to ask again.
Even for someone who had been through countless battles and even fallen into hell, the scene he had just witnessed was surreal.
The dragon in human form chuckled. It was a strangely familiar laugh.
[Of course. Why would I take on such a bothersome task without compensation?]
He spoke as if joking.
[Then I’ll borrow your body for a moment.]
As the dragon’s voice concluded, Dalen’s form vanished.
[Argh!]
When he reappeared, the demon had lost an arm.
Thud.
A massive arm crashed to the ground. The dragon, inhabiting Daelon’s body, stretched its stiff shoulders.
“This body won’t last long if I keep throwing punches like that.”
After a moment’s thought, he drew the spear slung across his back.
“Might as well use something familiar.”
Whoosh!
The spear of Reberon Ahakim ignited in flames. The demon, clutching its severed shoulder, finally grasped the situation and screamed.
“That… that spear! How can you aid a mortal? No matter how desperate you are, to stoop to such a lowly creature…!”
“Silence.”
The dragon, clad in a warrior’s form, swung the spear down. The ground split open as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The throne, floating above the fractured earth, was no exception. Chains snapped, and the throne, now in two pieces, plummeted to the ground.
Boom—
The impact swept through the area like a collapsing building. The dragon approached the fallen throne with a leisurely stride.
Kalcas, having narrowly avoided being bisected with the throne, was left missing a wrist and a leg.
“Ugh… this can’t be…”
The master of the Chain Throne crawled towards his fallen sword, his remaining arm and leg dragging him forward. The demon’s regenerative powers were rapidly restoring his severed limbs, but there was no reason to let that happen.
Thud—
“Aaaargh!”
The spear pierced his intact leg, and a towering pillar of flame erupted, pinning the demon’s leg to the ground like a stake.
The dragon stopped beside the demon’s head, hands clasped behind his back, and bent down to meet his eyes.
“You’ve become quite the pitiful sight, master of the Chain Throne.”
“Do you think this will stop the destined end? No matter how hard you try…!”
“You’re quite the climber. A mere thousand years on Enaxagus’s throne, and your neck’s gotten rather stiff.”
The dragon chuckled. The demon felt a chill run down his spine. Gathering all his remaining power, he shouted.
“Everyone, kill this creature! No matter what’s inside, it’s just a human wrapped in flesh…!”
“If you can’t bend, you’ll break.”
Swish—
The warrior’s hands moved.
With a flick of his left hand, he erased the wave of hunting hounds leaping through space with the demon’s magic.
With a deft stroke of his right, he severed the demon’s neck, cutting off its desperate cries.
Thud.
The demon’s head fell, and its body slumped.
Of course, the demon’s unnatural regenerative powers tried to reattach the head, cold energy bubbling from its throat.
“Disgusting.”
The dragon flicked his fingers. The pillar of flame that had pierced the demon’s leg expanded, engulfing its entire body.
Whoosh!
When the flames vanished, all that remained was a scorched circle on the ground and the spear Reberon had crafted.
Crackle…
As the dragon touched the spear, it crumbled into ash. The dragon, still in the warrior’s form, scratched his chin.
“How much was that spear worth?”
“I have no idea.”
“I took care of his hounds too, so let’s call it even.”
Apologies, but I have no gold to spare, added the impoverished dragon.
“Handle the rest yourself. Your body can’t withstand my power any longer.”
With those parting words, the dragon vanished back into its realm, having vaporized Kalcas’s true form and erased thousands of hounds.
Daelon let out a small sigh. A metallic taste lingered in his throat.
Outwardly, he seemed fine, but inside, he was a wreck.
The dull ache near his heart suggested that if the dragon had exerted its power for just a few more minutes, his life might have been in jeopardy.
“This feels familiar, like something that happened a few months ago.”
He recalled a previous encounter in a rift, where his mortal body nearly collapsed under the endless surge of power within the realm.
Awakening the mystical dragon blood had resolved that issue, but now that very power was becoming a burden again.
“Once I get my reward from Bourbon, it should help.”
Daelon shook his head and moved forward. Though he had vanquished the demon’s true form, there were still tasks to complete in this hellish place.
“First, the bodies.”
And the first order of business was to recover the bodies.
It was time to face the final moments of the warriors who had fought their way down to this frigid hell.