The Empire’s Assault (Part 1)
The oppressive heat clung to his skin, the air thick and stifling. Dalen opened his eyes.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
The first thing he saw was an old man with a bushy brown beard.
“See? I told you he’d wake up if we waited a bit.”
“How… how is this even possible…?”
Behind the old man stood Volkmarr, the merchant leader, and Tommy, Felber’s apprentice. Volkmarr’s face was as pale as if he’d seen a ghost.
Dalen sat up and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Dalen… is it really you? You’ve been out for four days. You looked like you were dead, and now you’re just… awake.”
So, did someone die and come back to life? Dalen feigned a stern expression and patted his waist.
“Who else would it be? Would you believe me if I threw an axe your way?”
“No, no! It’s just a figure of speech!”
“Enough with the nonsense. Go make some stew, Galleos. Isn’t it your turn to cook today? Tommy, make sure he doesn’t add any strange spices.”
“Yes, Master.”
Volkmarr jumped at Dalen’s gesture, while Valentino, the priest, nudged him towards the campfire. Dalen chuckled at the trio before shaking his head.
Had he really been out for days? His joints ached in more than a few places. But a few shoulder rolls and some light footwork were enough to shake off the stiffness.
Just as he finished stretching, Felber returned, having sent Volkmarr and Tommy to the fire. He spoke.
“I was worried, you know. You’ve never been out this long before.”
“Did you come all the way down here just to keep an eye on me?”
“Wouldn’t you? Leaving you behind might mean facing a paladin’s sword and a witch’s curse at the same time.”
The old man chuckled mischievously. Dalen shook his head again.
Felber set his staff aside and plopped down on a large rock. After a moment of silence, he spoke again.
“So, how was it this time?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your power grows in such peculiar ways. I wasn’t trying to observe, but after spending so much time with you, it’s hard not to notice.”
Felber stroked his beard thoughtfully, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.
“Whenever you reach a special place or defeat a certain foe, your power seems to climb like steps on a staircase.”
”…”
“I’m not trying to pry into your secrets. If it seemed that way, I apologize. I’m just curious about the hero who saved my life.”
“You were sharp as ever, even when we first met.”
Dalen replied with a low chuckle.
Their relationship hadn’t changed much on the surface, but fundamentally, Felber Valentino was bound to the power of the Dragon’s Blood. Even before that, he had risked his life for Dalen, so it wasn’t too concerning that he was close to uncovering the secret of the Successor DLC.
In truth, even if it hadn’t been spoken aloud, the old wizard had likely noticed long ago. The fact that he was only now bringing it up was significant in itself.
‘The Successor DLC is the foundation of my power.’
After falling into this world, Dalen learned that his power was activated by an entity known as the Well of Reversal. The Well absorbed the conclusions of each timeline, stored them, and then transferred them to Dalen. This meant that the status window and the Successor DLC weren’t entirely alien to this world’s laws.
‘I’m not sure what level of existence the Well of Reversal holds, but if it’s not completely separate from this world, it could be indirectly influenced by others.’
In that sense, Felber’s gentle warning was clear: if he had noticed, others might too. And that was not something to be taken lightly.
Even if the power seemed to transcend the concept of hierarchy, there might still be ways to prevent Dalen from inheriting the abilities of previous iterations.
‘What if the place where the body was found was destroyed, or the entity that consumed the body was killed?’
He hadn’t experienced such a thing yet, but there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen in the future. At the sixth tier, one could interfere with space-time, and the evil gods of the seventh tier, known as the Divine Rank, were certainly no less capable.
‘If Enaxagus, the most cunning of the evil gods, has noticed…’
It was Enaxagus who thwarted Dalen’s last playthrough, where he had poured all his knowledge and effort into reaching the brink of victory.
Regardless, the immediate task remained unchanged: move faster, stay ahead of the impending doom, and recover more bodies along the way.
‘Considering the time left… there are two potential transcendent bodies to recover.’
The archer who shot down stars lay beyond the eastern sea, and the summoner who commanded ancient giants and beasts was buried deep in the ruins beyond the western desert.
With the end drawing ever closer, setting sail or crossing the desert to find them was out of the question. The location of the last playthrough’s body was unknown, leaving only two possibilities.
‘The Dark Sorcerer and the Saint.’
The latter was practically within reach, but to obtain the former, he would have to venture into the vampire lands to the south. With the Empire baring its fangs, they would soon be on the move.
To plan, he needed to return to the labyrinth city and assess the continent’s situation through the Raven’s Nest.
“Oh, and take this.”
“Hmm? What’s this?”
Dalen retrieved a staff from his subspace and handed it to Felber. The wizard accepted it with a puzzled expression.
“A gift from a friend. Made from dragon bone, or so they say.”
“Dragon bone…? You mean a staff made from the bones of an earth dragon?”
“Seems like it. I’m not entirely sure.”
“Wait. Why would you give such a treasure to me…?”
“It suits an old man like you. If I used it, it’d probably snap in half within days.”
Let’s go eat. Leaving the wizard gaping in disbelief, Dalen scratched his chin and stood up. The savory aroma from the campfire had been teasing his nose for a while now. The stew was nearly ready.
‘Status window.’
In the dim corridor, letters suddenly appeared, floating in the air.
―――――――
Name: Dalen
Level: 42
[Strength: 60] [Dexterity: 57] [Stamina: 52]
[Senses: 51] [Intelligence: 56] [Magic: 54]
Skills: Dehama’s Armored Combat (D), Night Vision (E), Leap (E), Flame Arrow (D), Rapantella’s Crushing Sword (C), Hegaleus’s Flame Rain (C), Shooting Lightning (D), Curse Ward’s Seal (D), Leredonara’s Secret Sword (B), Sacred Flame’s Ember (C), Crimson Dragon’s Blood (A), Key to the Gates of Hell (C), Ackerman’s Diagram (C), Filz’s Wind Barrier (C), Fire Spear Technique (D), Living Roots (D), Rapid Germination (D), Rulia’s Spring Water (C), Soul Drain (B), Prayer of Healing (D), Skadi’s Tidal Wave (B), Kasmar’s Red Wind (B), Sandstorm Dynasty’s Bullet (B), Dragon Bone Crafting (B)
*Unique Skills (22)
――――――――
It had been weeks since he last checked his status window, after the war with Suum’s army on the northern front.
Fighting the earth dragon and its minions had raised his level by two, and inheriting Dallukahim’s abilities had increased his stats by double digits.
[You have recovered the body of the Dragon Bone Sword’s Master. Inheriting abilities.]
[Inheritance Reward: Strength +3, Dexterity +6, Stamina +5, Senses +1, Intelligence +2, Leredonara’s Secret Sword (B), Sandstorm Dynasty’s Bullet (B), Dragon Bone Crafting (B)]
[You already possess Leredonara’s Secret Sword (B). Skill proficiency has increased.]
The proficiency of the Secret Sword, which had been stuck at around 80%, shot up to 100% instantly. He also gained knowledge of controlling weapons through incantations and crafting dragon bones.
‘Now I understand why they said you can’t use the skills you learn. It’s better than having nothing, but still.’
Only after inheriting the abilities did Dalen understand why Dallukahim couldn’t become a blacksmith. Even with the skill to work with the mystical dragon bones, the reality of needing immense time and effort for actual crafting remained unchanged.
Crafting a single sword can take anywhere from a few days to several weeks or even months. Weapons of the quality that someone like Daelon would use don’t just appear out of thin air.
Even ancient relic weapons that have withstood centuries can quickly become dull or break in the heat of battle.
“But the real prize is something else.”
The forge, where the blacksmith’s legacy and the dragon’s breath linger. It’s a place where the essence of a lifetime’s work has been honed and refined, even beyond death.
Even if it’s not easy to wield as a craftsman, the forge, housing thousands of weapons, holds immense value as an armory.
Each weapon stored in the forge is a masterpiece, crafted by legendary blacksmiths. While they can’t be fully materialized like swords or staffs made from raw materials, during the time the domain is open, the abilities of these thousands of weapons can be unleashed without restraint.
“Hehehe! Treasure, treasure!”
A devilish laugh pierced through Daelon’s thoughts. He turned his head, peeling himself away from the wall.
From a doorway in the corridor, a pumpkin-sized lump waddled out, grinning widely. It was Arvor, the immortal demon.
“Are you done?”
“Yes, master! I gathered every last coin stuck between the rocks. Hehehe!”
“Good job. Let’s head back.”
“Yes, sir! Hehehe!”
Three days had passed since they awoke at the bottom of the dragon’s lair. Daelon and his companions had scoured every corner, collecting all the remaining treasures.
What would have taken a typical expedition months was reduced to a fraction of the time, thanks to the demon’s greed for gold.
Daelon naturally renewed his contract with the Galleos Trading Company.
“Considering we handled both the fighting and the labor, even a nine-to-one split seems generous. Let’s make it ten-to-zero.”
“W-What are you saying, Daelon? What about me…?”
“You can handle all the sales through the Galleos Trading Company. Just the reputation from distributing the treasures of an entire dragon’s lair will be worth a fortune.”
”…”
With a little coaxing, the renegotiation was quickly settled.
After three days of plundering the abandoned lair, their storage was bursting with wealth equivalent to a city’s annual budget.
“With this, I could probably buy out the entire auction house in the Golden District.”
Daelon mentally listed his shopping plans as they exited the lair.
The sunlight they hadn’t seen in a week was now a soft, setting glow.
The crimson light filtering through the dense trees was vibrant, and the darkening indigo sky above was slowly enveloping everything.
The cool air filled their lungs, a serene moment perfect for reflection after a long journey.
Caw—! Caw—!
That is, until a large crow swooped down, flapping its wings right in front of them.
“Caw— Daelon! Why did it take you so long to come out?”
”…There were some things to take care of. Did something happen?”
Daelon scratched his chin with a nonchalant expression. Could anything really happen in just a week?
The last he heard from Sienna was that the Imperial Army was unexpectedly stalled, with internal issues causing a lot of noise.
He figured a few days would be fine, and the crow wouldn’t have been able to withstand the magic inside the lair, so he left it outside.
“Caw! Something did happen! This crow… hmm? Directly? Got it. Just a moment…”
There was a rustling sound, and the crow’s eyes suddenly shifted.
When they returned, they were no longer black but a striking blue.
“Daelon! We have a problem!”
Lucia’s voice came from the crow’s beak. It perched on Daelon’s shoulder, flapping its wings frantically.
“The Empire wasn’t just targeting the Holy Knights! The Imperial Army is right at the Bronze Wall!”
What the hell?