Chapter 160
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 160
Chapter Title: Fall of the Red Dragon God
“Father, I’ve found traces.”
The one standing tall amid the fallen offspring spoke up. Thanks to the blood of the goddess captured during the Anti-Demon War, he was clever and strong in body.
He couldn’t recall the name. Shradforma silently appraised his child.
Quite beautiful. She seemed like she’d bear fine offspring.
Tonight.
His thoughts drifting to when he’d ravage her, Shradforma let his anger subside a little. He took a step toward his nameless daughter and asked,
“What traces do you mean?”
“They’re definitely headed to the 17th floor.”
Traces abounded in the Citadel of Justice. It was clear they’d been in a great rush.
And with a little thought, it made sense. Ascending from the depths to the upper layers was incredibly difficult. For all the inhabitants of the Citadel of Justice to reach the 15th floor in such a short time was impossible.
Evading the constant watch of the Red Dragon Legion over the Citadel of Justice to slip forces outside was impossible too.
That left only one answer: the 17th floor.
The God of Supply had led his entire army there.
He didn’t ponder why. He focused solely on the fact.
“Then we go too.”
To the 17th floor. With all the forces of the 16th.
The 17th floor housed the God of Massacre. He wasn’t keen on allying with him, but he’d endure it to claim the God of Supply.
“Assemble the troops. We head to the 17th floor at once.”
The Citadel of Justice on the 17th floor was divided in two. The pillar to the 16th and the one to the 18th were quite some distance apart.
The God of Massacre held the north, while the pillars to the 18th and 16th stood at the center and south, respectively.
Thus, most of the 17th floor’s Citadel of Justice forces were concentrated around the pillar to the 18th.
Defending the center well would protect the southern pillar too.
Of course, this rested on one premise.
That the Citadel of Justice on the 16th, holding both the pillar to the 15th and to the 17th, remained intact.
That it would defend against any invasion from the 16th to the 17th.
If the 16th’s defenses fell, the 17th floor’s Citadel would face enemies front and back.
Yet the God of Supply had created that very situation.
No matter the reason, he’d handed them the pillar to the 17th.
“Father, perhaps…”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Whether trap or not, he’d smash through.
In the first place, the 16th floor forces had held off him and the Red Dragon Legion thanks to the Citadel of Justice, blanketed in blessings and magic.
Fighting in a less fortified place, victory for him and the Red Dragon Legion was inevitable.
“We go. My decision stands.”
“Understood.”
The nameless daughter hurried off to rally the troops. Shradforma gazed at her retreating form like a lick, a smile playing on his lips. Perhaps tonight he’d enjoy not just his daughter, but the God of Supply too.
Shradforma looked into the distance.
Night was falling.
* * *
The entire Red Dragon Legion had taken human form. Hundreds raced up the stairs to the 17th floor.
Leading was Shradforma, body aflame with lust. An evil god though a dragon, drawing nearer to the depths—the 17th floor, even slightly closer—lifted his spirits. The lower he went, the stronger he grew.
As his daughter said, it might be a trap.
The 16th floor troops might be arrayed outside the pillar.
But he felt no fear.
The 17th floor couldn’t empty their Citadel of Justice, so even if a trap, it’d only be the 16th floor’s forces.
Foes without the Citadel were mere playthings.
‘A laughable blunder at the end.’
Worn from years of war? Craving a decisive clash?
‘Or perhaps yearning to fall into my arms.’
Unable to surrender outright, they’d forced the issue.
Absurd, but delightful delusions as Shradforma kept running. His dragon eyes piercing the dark spotted the exit.
‘There they are.’
He smelled them.
Troops lined up outside the pillar.
‘Good, fine. I’ll indulge you all.’
Shradforma chuckled. The moment he burst out, he’d revert to true form. He ordered his children the same.
“Charge!”
Shradforma hurled himself out. He transformed into a crimson wyrm dozens of meters long.
Then what he saw.
What entered his eyes.
“They really came.”
“They really showed.”
The God of Music and God of Painting giggled.
“To think you fought that single-celled brute daily for years.”
The God of Supply muttered, face ashen.
The God of the Army smiled. He patted the God of Supply’s shoulder lightly, while the God of Cavalry readjusted his lance for a charge.
Shradforma panicked. His airborne children did too.
Troops encircled the pillar.
As expected. But the scale exceeded imagination.
The 16th floor forces bolstered by the 15th.
The 15th floor forces had merged with the 16th and advanced to the 17th—something Shradforma never foresaw.
Normally, the God of Curses would’ve reported it.
But the God of Curses was gone. The Citadel of Vice destroyed too.
Some losers from the Citadel of Vice had fled here, sure, but he hadn’t imagined the 15th floor defenders all descending to the 16th.
And one man.
Gazing at Shradforma under the night sky.
Facing a dragon—a true wyrm—for the first time since the 2nd floor.
[Yep, it’s a dragon.]
The Dark Sword Mitra spoke.
Giggling, it unleashed the dragon sword’s power, the dragon-slaying might.
Dragons.
Wyrms.
Incarnations of evil in the West.
Godlike in the East.
Embodying fantasy’s essence, they existed in Phaien too, appearing often in Father’s tales.
Father had said,
“There are two main ways to hunt dragons. Not much different from other monsters, really.”
“Oh?”
Middle-school Cheon-ho wasn’t the one who replied. It was Mother.
Father flinched under her sharp gaze but grinned and continued.
“I’ve probably fought more dragons in Phaien than anyone. Still do sometimes.”
Father’s words made middle-school Cheon-ho’s eyes sparkle, while Mother smacked his back.
Cheon-ho hadn’t understood then, but he did now.
Anyway, Father said,
“One’s an ultra-strong individual beating it one-on-one. Like me.”
Absurd enough to question if that counted, but peak middle-school bravado made Father seem endlessly cool to Cheon-ho.
“What’s the other?”
“Human wave tactics. Dragons are huge, so even sloppy shots hit. Set the battlefield right, and they’re surprisingly easy.”
Father’s words.
Always the same.
Seeming nonsense, Mother jeering, yet right again. Not wrong.
“Fire away.”
Cheon-ho murmured. The Dark Sword Mitra crowed excitedly.
[Blast ‘em!]
The God of the Army raised his hand. Swung it wide, commanding. His divine word spread across the battlefield.
[“Fire!”]
Centered on the pillar’s mouth to the 16th, the allied forces in fan formation raised their weapons in unison. At the God of the Army’s order, they opened fire.
A beautiful, overwhelming sight.
Forces from the 15th and 16th.
Nearly 20,000 angels, plus 80,000 golems.
100,000 lights rent the night sky. No—they blanketed it, turning night to day.
Just as Father said.
Dragons were massive. Even poor marksmen couldn’t miss.
“No chance!”
Shradforma bellowed. He raised a mana barrier to shield the front, his children following suit.
But 100,000 lights.
And not just once. Relentless barrages—hundreds of thousands, no, over a million.
Shradforma endured. His children didn’t.
Bad positioning too.
Fresh from the pillar, their numbers were few. Barely a dozen had emerged and transformed following him.
A dozen wyrms surrounded fan-wise by 100,000—it was over before starting.
“Fath—!”
His children couldn’t even finish. The mad barrage shattered flight; they plummeted or slammed into the pillar. Each could block some, but the sheer volume overwhelmed.
“Keep firing!”
The God of the Army roared. No half-measures. Total annihilation.
“Graaaah!”
Shradforma spread his wings, roaring. Unleashing the evil god’s might ruling the 16th, black mana momentarily erased the barrage, creating a gap.
[“Fire back!”]
His direct command pierced his children’s minds. Amid disarray, instinct kicked in—they raised heads, maws agape.
Dragon breath.
The authority of those pure-blooded fantasy veins!
Prismatic beams—pillars of light—hurtled at the righteous gods’ army. But the God of the Army didn’t flinch.
“We’re here too, y’know?”
“Think we gods gathered here are few?”
This was a prepared site.
Terrain prepped with the hero.
“Light!”
The God of Purification cried out. A massive light barrier rose before the righteous army. The divine shield, forged from the righteous gods’ power, blocked every dragon breath from Shradforma’s children.
Even shockwaves couldn’t pierce, rebounding toward the pillar.
“Insolent!”
Shradforma raged, maw opening. But the barrage resumed.
“Father!”
Their final screams. All who’d flown with him tumbled. Replacements fared no better.
Seeing this, Shradforma went primal. Abandoning coordination, he charged the righteous army.
Rage-driven, but not wrong. The Red Dragon Legion needed time for numbers to exit and transform.
“God of Supply!”
Shradforma bellowed. He smashed into the divine shield, shattering it. Maw wide for breath.
Cheon-ho saw it.
He clenched a fist, swung hard. The Dark Sword Mitra cried,
[Iron Fist Judgment!]
Literal. From the righteous lines rose a colossal steel fist, smashing Shradforma’s jaw!
“Gurk?!”
Dozens of meters long, yet the fist—golden arm from hand to forearm, over ten meters—hit hard.
[Mom’s the best!]
Twelve carriers fused with the wardrobe as core.
Cheon-ho moved again. Opened the fist, gripped the air.
“Gahk!”
The steel fist seized Shradforma’s throat. Whirled, slamming him down.
Boom!
The earth quaked. The massive wyrm struck ground as the righteous army kept firing.
Shradforma cursed. A lifetime warrior, but this fighting style was new.
Inevitable. Headfirst into a prepared trap—doomed to fall.
Nearly twenty children littered motionless. Those inside the pillar hesitated now.
[“Charge!”]
Shradforma ordered. Forcing his children ahead, he instinctively shifted to human form, escaping the steel fist gripping his neck.
Charge like this. Disrupt the righteous army. Dragons wielded less raw power human-sized, but it dodged light barrages.
Crimson aura gathered in Shradforma’s hands. He lunged at the righteous army.
But then.
Right then.
[Yeah, no dice.]
The Dark Sword Mitra teased.
They’d foreseen it.
Prepared everything.
The ground glowed. Righteous power spread via magic circle, binding Shradforma. Invisible force pinned him immobile.
“Raaagh!”
Shradforma unleashed dragon fear. Potent. Even with the divine shield, angels in range should kneel terrified.
But they’d anticipated this.
The righteous army wasn’t random.
Front: golems.
Rear: angels.
Only golems in dragon fear’s radius. Constructs knew no fear, unaffected.
Shradforma thrashed.
The near-Deputy realm evil dragon’s might was terrifying. He endured the pressure from twelve gods led by Music and Painting, even trying to tear free.
“Impressive.”
The God of Purification admired.
Not for the 16th floor lord’s power.
The prepared hero.
The preparing hero.
All as the hero said. Not deviating an inch from his predictions.
The God of Supply’s intel.
Shradforma’s personality and patterns gleaned from him.
Toward the writhing Shradforma flew the Yaksha God-King with wings of the God of Flight spread, hero gripping the flaming dragon-slaying dark sword!
“Grooooarrr!”
Shradforma roared ahead. Near his final spasm, Cheon-ho roared back. Swung Mitra, splitting the roar. No speed lost.
[Hero!]
[Go! Go! Go!]
Lucille cried in his mindscape. Mitra, gripping her hand tight, flailed wildly, shouting.
Five goddesses’ power imbued the dragon sword. Amplified dragon-slaying might.
“Raaaaah!”
Shradforma’s eyes bulged. Bound by divine chains, still a fearsome evil dragon. His glare could kill.
But Cheon-ho ignored it. Met Shradforma’s stare. Eyes of a god-hunting beast.
Shradforma flinched. Shuddered unwittingly.
Inevitable. Unavoidable.
No dragon fearless before a dragon-slaying blade.
No god bold before a god-hunting beast!
Cheon-ho roared. Wings of Flight spread wide for acceleration. Shradforma, bound by righteous gods, couldn’t evade. The dragon sword pierced his chest!
Boom!
Thunder followed. Cheon-ho twisted the blade, inertia slamming Shradforma down. Unleashed dragon-slaying power and divine devouring.
Shradforma couldn’t even scream. His final death cry denied by Cheon-ho.