Jinryong (3)
[Skill acquired: ‘Blood of the Crimson Dragon (A)’]
Even before the notification appeared before his eyes, Daellon’s heart was pounding fiercely.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
This was different from the usual heartbeat.
It wasn’t the ordinary flow of blood, similar to human blood, carrying oxygen through his veins.
Nor was it the rush of hot blood infused with regenerative factors, spreading throughout his body to heal.
It was a deeper, more intense pulse.
A sensation as if something other than physical blood was coursing through him.
Long ago.
Was it right after he first acquired the regenerative factors of dragon blood in the sewers that he felt this way?
He had collected countless corpses and acquired dozens of skills since then, but the feeling of mysticism enhancing a part of his body had only happened once before.
‘Until just now.’
Inhale—
He took a deep breath.
The blood that should have absorbed and transported oxygen instead took in the magic in the air, distributing it throughout his body.
Each cell awakened to a new energy source, experiencing a moment of alien awakening.
As his overall physical abilities were forcibly heightened, he felt a sense of elevation.
Exhale…
A light breath out, carrying a searing heat.
Though he hadn’t peered into the realm beyond his mind, Daellon instinctively knew.
This phenomenon was the result of the regenerative factors of dragon blood reaching their limit and his physical stats having long surpassed their threshold.
Simultaneously, it was a sign that in one of the many future crossroads, the apostles of regression had somehow acquired the dragon blood factors.
Through the nature of the fantasy world, which twisted timelines and possibilities into reality with the inheritor option, the blood of a true dragon had been reborn within a human body.
[This… this is impossible.]
The aftermath of the explosion of cold and flame had been a greater blow to his weakened body than he had anticipated.
Muttering in disbelief, Daellon gazed steadily at the blue dragon swaying in the air.
And in one corner of his vision, he felt the gaze of an unfamiliar presence.
[…]
It was another dragon.
A massive dragon clad in dazzling black and red scales, staring intently at him.
It wasn’t a physical entity. The dragon’s shadow flickered like an illusion.
“…”
Yet from that fleeting gaze, Daellon could sense an incredibly complex emotion.
A discomfort, as if displeased with the current events.
But also a resignation, knowing it was an inevitable outcome and process.
[How can the supreme blood of a dragon reside in a mere mortal? This is not just a scent clinging to you! This is… this is…!]
The voice of the blue dragon, filled with rage, echoed in his ears. Daellon set aside thoughts of the crimson dragon’s illusion for the moment.
Exploring the essence of this newfound power was crucial.
But more urgent was using this power to bring down the formidable foe before him.
[You, who defile the species of true dragons, I, Tethera Riulak, will personally crush and obliterate you.]
“Enough of your nonsense.”
Daellon stepped forward.
Thud.
His presence became an intangible force, pushing the air around him.
The sand-like crystals scattered at his feet melted instantly upon contact with the heat of that pressure.
With vertically slit pupils gleaming, Daellon raised his head high to the sky.
High above, between two cliffs, the wounded and weakened true form of the blue dragon was visible.
The Azure Dragon, Tethera Riulak.
A true dragon that had once driven his superhuman body to the brink of death with a single tail swipe.
The immortal being that had seemed an insurmountable wall until just moments ago no longer appeared as an impossible adversary.
A dragon cursed so severely that it couldn’t even wield half its original power.
Even that had suffered a critical blow from Commander Edgar, forced into a mortal shell.
Of course, Daellon’s situation wasn’t exactly favorable either.
The blazing mystique contained within the newly awakened dragon’s blood was violently shaking his incomplete body.
But it didn’t matter.
Even with this imperfect combination, victory seemed within reach, as the dragon was sufficiently weakened.
[Do you think your paltry flames can withstand my breath? The crime of a mortal daring to mimic an immortal, I will freeze you in flames as punishment!]
Struggling to maintain balance in the sky, the dragon spat out its words in frustration.
Yet despite its threats, it hesitated to unleash its breath.
The dragon’s breath was one of its most basic powers, indicating that the rewound body of the Azure Dragon was that much more damaged.
Daellon chuckled.
“You’ve become quite talkative, haven’t you?”
[…!]
“They say an old, weakened dog barks the loudest.”
[You…!]
Ignoring the enraged voice of the Azure Dragon, Daellon gathered strength in his step.
Crack.
The ground beneath him split open.
Rumble.
Even without deliberately drawing upon the power of his domain, black and crimson flames flickered between the cracks.
Feeling the depth of the flames swirling around him, Daellon lightly propelled himself upward.
Whoosh—
His ascent was silent.
At the end of a trajectory more akin to flight than a leap, the flames enveloping his body naturally formed wings behind him.
Roar—
The black flames, covering and extending beyond his sword, blazed fiercely, exuding a heavy momentum.
The flames enveloping the sacred sword he held aloft with both hands.
The flickering mass, larger than Daellon himself, resembled the claws of a crimson dragon.
[――――!]
Now, the gaze of the Azure Dragon, burning with madness, also descended rapidly, claws leading the charge.
The depths of the rift.
The valley of the Azure Dragon’s domain.
High above, the two dragons clashed.
Rumble…
The sky growled low. Tommy was terrified, but he kept running.
Facing a massive pile of rocks blocking his path, the young man formed a hand sign and chanted a spell.
“Elle. Maiarin.”
Rumble.
The rocks and boulders moved as if alive. Amidst the mountain of stones, a small passage just big enough for a person to pass through appeared.
Tommy crouched low, squeezing through the gap.
And he prayed.
That it wouldn’t collapse.
That it would hold just until he got through.
Fortunately, the magically opened gap didn’t collapse until he had passed, and Tommy was able to rise and run again, gasping for breath.
Boom! Rumble!
Crack— Crack—
Meanwhile, high above, two immense forces clashed endlessly.
The debris from their collision spread in all directions, occasionally falling near Tommy in the form of fiery or icy masses.
Boom—!
The remnants of power that could freeze and burn a boulder the size of a house to dust in an instant.
There was no way the young man could not be afraid amidst such deadly bombardment.
Grit.
Yet he ran.
Even as his hand, clutching the invisible cloak, was soaked with sweat and tears, the young mage couldn’t stop his racing steps.
The deafening explosions pounding his eardrums.
The ground and cliffs shaking as if an earthquake had struck.
The massive boulders falling repeatedly on the path he had come.
Chanting spells without pause, forming hand signs with one hand, the young man ignored it all.
‘If you’re really scared, you can always throw on the cloak and run.’
The words Daellon had said to him just last night flashed through his mind.
‘Choose your place to die.’
“I’ve chosen.”
The muttered words escaped his lips unconsciously.
He had chosen.
To wear the invisible cloak given by the warrior.
And even if this place became his final resting place, he chose not to run.
If it were to be the last moment of his life, shouldn’t that final breath be spent saving someone?
That’s why the young man was running through hell, thinking only of one person.
‘Master.’
Elder Mage of the Elgaia Tower, Felber Valentino.
The mentor who had taken in an orphan like him and allowed him to live a new life in the tower.
Though he had made countless mistakes driven by youthful curiosity and foolishness, his master had always saved him without fail.
Now, having long since reached adulthood, he was beginning to understand.
How great the grace of his master was, who had helped him even at the expense of his political position as an elder mage.
And how hopelessly naive he had been, sheltered like a flower in a greenhouse under that protection.
‘You can’t leave like this.’
He repeated the words that couldn’t reach. Tommy swallowed hard.
The salty mix of tears and snot, and the metallic taste of blood in his throat.
He had only just become a mage capable of standing on his own.
He hadn’t even begun to repay that grace, so how could he let his master leave like this?
As the two transcendent beings clashed above, Tommy ran towards where his master had been, refusing to flee.
Perhaps the gods heard his desperate resolve.
“…Ugh!”
A stray stone grazed Tommy’s forehead, and as he wiped away the blood obscuring his vision, he saw it.
A low hum filled the air.
Amidst the swirling dust and the upheaved ground, a softly glowing golden dome shimmered in the distance.
“Master!” Tommy shouted, mustering every ounce of strength to sprint forward.
Debris rained down around him, threatening his life with every step, but he pressed on, undeterred.
As he drew closer, the golden dome seemed to pulse with life, expanding its reach to envelop him.
The golden magic shielded Tommy, deflecting the stones that threatened to crush him.
Inside the dome, Tommy finally spotted Felber, leaning against a large rock.
“Master, are you alright?”
Felber chuckled softly. “Alright? Look at yourself, boy. What a sight you are.”
His eyes, clouded and unfocused, still managed to find Tommy through sheer magical perception. Yet, his aged body, pushed beyond its limits, was slowly giving out.
“Ah…”
“Tsk, tsk. How many times have I told you to be careful with those potions? Use them like that, and you’ll end up crippled.”
Despite the scolding, Tommy found comfort in his master’s familiar reprimand, the pain in his body easing with each word.
“Come here,” Felber beckoned, pulling Tommy closer. His trembling hands gently probed Tommy’s injuries.
“Hmm. It’s serious.”
“I had no choice,” Tommy replied, shaking his head.
The dragon’s strike had been so powerful that even Dalen’s intervention couldn’t fully contain its force. Tommy had been flung hundreds of meters, his body battered and broken, yet he had miraculously remained conscious.
He had painstakingly gathered his severed fingers, forced his crushed legs back into place, and poured regeneration potions over his wounds to heal.
But it was a crude fix at best. The potions, while effective, required proper medical treatment to avoid complications like misaligned joints or pinched nerves.
Felber clicked his tongue and placed a hand on Tommy’s chest, whispering an incantation.
“Stay still. Elle—Memento Casivolg.”
Golden waves of magic flowed into Tommy, realigning his muscles and bones with a sudden, painful snap.
“Ah! That’s better.”
“Master! You should be using this magic to restore your own time, not mine! Why…”
“You fool. If one could define their existence and control their own timeline, they’d be a god, not a human.”
Felber chuckled, giving Tommy another gentle scolding as the young man blinked back tears.
“We need to get you out of here. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
“No, I won’t leave. This is where I end. At least I can say goodbye to Dalen.”
Felber tilted his head back, gazing at the sky.
Though his body was failing, his magical domain remained as powerful as ever, allowing him to perceive the battle unfolding above without sight.
A clash of blue and red.
A duel of ice and fire.
One combatant, an immortal being cursed and wounded, forced into mortality. The other, a human who had transcended his species’ limits through countless lifetimes, grasping at the edge of immortality.
Though imperfect, Dalen was holding his own against the fallen immortal, defying all expectations.
The sky flashed with a dark crimson light. A massive blue form plummeted into the valley, followed by a dark red warrior crashing to the ground.
Sensing the battle’s end, Felber tapped Tommy’s hand.
“Come closer, Tommy. I have one last lesson to impart.”
The old man’s wrinkled hand rested on Tommy’s forehead.
“Take my domain, the power to touch the timeline with the essence of the earth, and carry it forward.”
A new magical system began to flow from Felber’s hand into Tommy’s.