Chapter 533: Curse of Dragon Blood (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 533: Curse of Dragon Blood (2)
The room was unnaturally dark.
Having fallen asleep without lighting a lamp, the blackness felt absolute. I channeled Qi to my eyes, brightening my vision until the shadows reluctantly receded. Only then did the chamber come into faint focus.
A cold sweat instantly prickled across my skin.
Thump… thump…
My heart hammered against my ribs, a startled drumbeat refusing to calm. The shock was inevitable. Waking to find an assassin looming over you would unnerve anyone. But this was no ordinary killer. This was the man they called the King of Assassins.
To be honest, his sudden appearance alone wouldn't have rattled me so deeply. The true problem lay elsewhere.
"...What are you doing?" I asked, my voice low.
The one known as the Dark King was kneeling directly before me, assuming this posture the very moment my eyes had opened. His knees were bent at a stiff, perfect angle, his head bowed just so, his gaze lowered in an attitude of near-flawless etiquette. It was so immaculate it felt absurd. Had it been some young noble scion, I might have thought, What strict upbringing.
I'm going crazy.
The real issue was that the man in this position of submission was the Dark King, the sovereign of the night.
Why is that bastard here again?
I thought he'd been quiet lately. So swamped with work, I'd almost forgotten.
That… the Dark King is also around.
Right. He was part of our group now, having altered his appearance to follow the Dishonored Venerable.
Is this place really safe?
A sudden, paranoid thought struck me as I looked at him. The value of a single Fusion Realm-level martial artist was immense. Even a Peak Realm expert was highly sought after, but a Fusion Realm master was on another level entirely. The elders of the great noble clans were all Fusion Realm masters. Simply reaching that realm made one worthy of such a station.
How many of them are here?
I mentally tallied the Fusion Realm martial artists gathered at the Tang Clan, excluding their own members. The White Ripple Sword, the Monster of Wudang… just off the top of my head, there were five.
…This is a den of human weapons.
I had, admittedly, been the one to draw them here. But setting that aside, if I had to describe the man kneeling before me amidst such powerful company…
A being who can kill anyone.
That was the only fitting description. The King of Assassins, rumored capable of slaying even one of the Three Venerables if he set his mind to it. The master of the Iron Kill Squad, the greatest assembly of assassins. A figure whose true identity remained a mystery.
Of course…
I might not know his identity, but I know a little.
I doubted many who had seen the Dark King in the flesh had lived to tell the tale. But from my perspective, I knew a bit more.
A descendant of the Yeon Clan.
The Dark King was, in fact, a scion of that damned Yeon Il-Cheon. I had no idea who else was aware of this, but given that I hadn't known in my past life, it probably wasn't common knowledge.
…Is that why he’s here?
Was he here to silence me because I knew? The circumstances didn't quite support the theory, but the sheer absurdity of the situation made the thought cross my mind anyway. The only reason I could dismiss it was the Dark King's current actions.
Why?
Why was he kneeling in my room?
My sleep-addled mind grew cold and sharp. I couldn't feel any killing intent, but for someone of his caliber, concealing it would be trivial. That was irrelevant.
Then, another question.
Since when.
Since when had he been here? I had set up a sound barrier designed to wake me if anyone approached, even in my deepest sleep…
Ah.
That doesn’t matter either.
If the opponent was the Dark King, such measures were useless.
Dammit. This was a fucking mess.
It’s so damn hard to stay alive.
No matter what precautions I took, there were always beings powerful enough to shatter them. This shitty reality washed over me, and perhaps because of it, my head cleared a little.
It must be a warning not to let my guard down, even for a moment, in a comfortable situation.
I was grimly grateful for the reminder of a fact I'd briefly forgotten.
As I rapidly assessed the situation, a voice spoke from within.
[It’s been about one shijin.]
Elder Shin's words reached me.
…Has the Dark King been here that long?
[Yes. I tried everything to wake you, but you wouldn't stir.]
One shijin. Aside from the alarming fact that he'd been here for two hours…
He came as soon as I fell asleep.
Given the timing, it was safe to assume he had waited for me to be asleep before entering. Remembering this, I addressed him again, my voice thankfully steady. If it had trembled, it would have been too pathetic. That, at least, was fortunate.
"...Do you have business with me?"
At my question, the Dark King finally raised his head. His white hair seemed to shimmer, glowing with an eerie light even in the darkness. He usually wore a mask or altered his appearance, but I had a feeling this was his true form. And his eyes… pale, yet profoundly dark, as if devoid of all emotion. A gaze that felt like it could swallow you whole. The same uniquely terrifying eyes I'd seen when we first met.
What is this?
Strangely, they didn't seem so frightening now.
As I stared into them, a sudden change occurred.
Fwoosh-!
"...!"
His pupils contracted, narrowing into vertical slits. Goosebumps erupted on my arms. Not because it was grotesque, but because they were eyes I recognized. I didn't need to struggle to remember where I'd seen them. The memory surfaced instantly.
The Blood Demon’s eyes.
The crimson, vertical pupils that had stared at me from within Jang Seonyeon's body at the last Orthodox Faction meeting… they were identical to the Dark King's.
That wasn't the only change.
Vwooom-!
The moment I saw those eyes, a vibration coursed through my body. My blood began to heat up, a feverish warmth spreading independent of my will. It surged upward, finally reaching my eyes. I could feel it without seeing—my own pupils had likely transformed to match the Dark King's.
In an instant.
-Shaaaa!
Ttolddoli, who had been hiding in a drawer, shot out.
Fwoosh-!
Blue flames instantly wreathed its body, flaring brightly before vanishing. What remained was not the form of a thin snake, but a giant monster, its bulk so immense it made the small room feel cramped. Ttolddoli coiled protectively around me, baring furious fangs.
-Grrrrrrr…!
A low, hostile growl rumbled from its throat, directed squarely at the Dark King.
The Dark King's gaze shifted to Ttolddoli. Seeing this, his mouth finally opened.
"So, I was right."
I tensed, worried the display of hostility might provoke him, but contrary to my expectations, the Dark King simply nodded as if his suspicions had been confirmed.
What?
Then, his gaze returned to me.
Ssk.
The moment he moved, I braced for an attack, but…
"Huh…?"
I froze at his action.
He had suddenly bowed his head deeply, showing me utmost respect. Startled, I was about to demand an explanation when his dry voice cut through the silence.
"...A protector born of the Yeon Clan greets the great Dragon."
The word made me hold my breath.
Dragon.
After a moment's hesitation, I forced out a question. "...Senior. Why are you doing this?"
Was I cursed with misfortune these days? Had I been possessed by one of the old men around me? It seemed every single one of them was determined to give me shit. And this was the most terrifying of all. To see the Dark King himself behaving this way toward me.
Am I already dead?
The ridiculous delusion flickered through my mind.
As I hurriedly moved to make him rise, I replayed his words.
A Dragon, he says.
A chill ran down my spine. It was a term used for the legendary White-grade demonic beasts. The form I had taken while fighting the manifestation of Blood Qi had reminded me of a dragon. And Ttolddoli's current transformation was eerily similar to that manifestation…
…A dragon.
I began to understand why the unfamiliar term didn't feel entirely alien.
I’m a dragon?
That unknown species. Were the scales on my arm, my transformed body, all part of a dragon's form?
Suppose that was true for a moment.
Dragon or whatever… let’s put that aside for now.
Whatever I had become could be pondered later. Right now, I needed to understand why the man before me was acting this way. Seeing this terrifying figure change his tone and posture made the fear I'd barely suppressed begin to rise again.
"First, Senior… please get up…"
"I beseech such a great being," he continued, ignoring my plea.
I tried to step away from Ttolddoli's coil to help him up, but he spoke again.
"Take pity on this lowly blood."
My hand touched his shoulder.
Sssss…
"...!"
The moment my skin made contact, his began to change. I jerked my hand back, stumbling away. The transformation didn't subside; it spread. His skin altered, becoming bumpy and raised, just like the scales on my right arm. The only difference was the color—a lustrous gold, unlike my azure blue.
As I stared with wide eyes, a change erupted within my own body.
Fwoooo-!
My heart began to pound violently, my blood burning hotter than ever before. It was an indescribable sensation. As I struggled to define it, a memory surfaced.
-It’s instinct.
The Blood Demon's words from our past confrontation, when I was losing myself to the boiling blood, echoed in my mind.
-That’s how it is.
-An arrogant creature that doesn’t wish for another equal to exist under the same sky.
He had said that while looking directly at me.
So, was the emotion I felt toward the Dark King hostility?
No.
It definitely wasn't that. This was something lower, colder. If I had to put it into words…
Insignificance…?
Yes, insignificance. I was looking at a martial artist many times stronger than me and feeling a profound sense of his insignificance. Why? It was a fucking shitty feeling, one that made me want to claw my own guts out.
The fact that the Blood Demon's words came to mind now meant…
He knew from the moment he saw me.
It meant the Blood Demon had known I would become like this. Even before my transformation was complete, he had recognized I would become a dragon. Which meant…
Is the Blood Qi the problem?
Given that my flame had become the blue flame of Blood Qi, it seemed likely.
But amidst this, something else the Blood Demon had said nagged at me.
-You are not a piece of me, so how have you begun to bloom?
That implied my transformation wasn't his doing. I couldn't trust everything he said, but it was worth noting.
Looking at it this way…
Is the Blood Demon… also a dragon?
Was he, too, one of that unknown species? If so, the words spoken by the Blood Qi manifestation also made sense.
-I am the seed of the Dragon Emperor.
If the Blood Qi originated from the Blood Demon, then that statement was understandable. It was proof that the Blood Demon was indeed a dragon.
…Wait. Then…
My eyes widened as the connections snapped into place.
Who were the ones originally associated with the word 'dragon'? The White-grade demonic beasts. In the past, people had called them dragons, naming the mythical creature after their terrifying appearance and power. Now, 'dragon' referred either to the creature of legend or to those White-grade beasts that had once dominated the world.
The problem was that after the Blood Demon's disappearance, White-grade demonic beasts had vanished from the Central Plains. In my past life, Red-grade beasts had begun to appear, but I had never seen a White-grade one before my death. This was good for the world's peace, but…
Was that a coincidence?
Then why were Red-grade demonic beasts appearing now, unlike in my past life? Was there a connection?
The more I thought, the more my breath caught. Blurry events were sharpening into a horrifying picture. The outline of the story I desperately sought was far grander and more terrifying than I had ever imagined.
Just as the pieces began to fit and my mind started to clear, a dry, pleading voice broke through my thoughts.
"...Please."
My eyes refocused on the Dark King. I frowned, not because of his grotesque appearance, but because I couldn't comprehend him.
The heroes had saved the world. They hadn't managed to kill the Blood Demon, but they had sealed him away. Regardless of his later view of me as a calamity, I had respected Yeon Il-Cheon's achievements. A man who had tried to save the world, even turning back time. That was my perception of him.
So, why?
Why in the world…
"Please release the curse that binds my blood…"
…had the descendant of Yeon Il-Cheon, who had stood at the very forefront of that righteous battle, ended up in such a wretched state?
For some reason, the injustice of it felt incredibly foul.