The Dragon of the Turtle Altar
The fantasies that the inhabitants of this world harbored about dragons were truly grand. Born perfect, naturally inheriting the Creation Realm; a great will born of heaven and nurtured by nature—the accolades were endless. It was such a famous and representative spiritual beast, a divine creature, that no matter which race or sect you visited, everyone knew of them. Accordingly, while descriptions and perceptions of dragons varied wildly from person to person, there was one answer that remained constant no matter which continent you visited or whom you asked.
Power.
A power so overwhelming that some boldly argued the great nature of this world had manifested its own conscious will. With legends whispering that a single moment of a dragon's wrath could decide the fate of an entire race, dragons were objects of both awe and terror in this world. Above all, because they symbolized ultimate power, the character for 'Dragon' () was frequently attached to the symbols of various sects or the names of powerful treasures.
Thus, when offered the power of a dragon, it was safe to say that absolutely no one could easily refuse. If anything, they would suspect it to be a lie. So, to say my heart didn't stir at all would be a lie.
Chuckling at myself for feeling a faint sense of nobility toward what was essentially a mere fetus, I shook my head.
"Your sudden appearance surprised me. And I must admit, this offer of yours is quite surprising as well."
But I couldn't accept this. I had killed the White Dragon Island Master, his descendants, and even the turtle the White Dragon cherished. There was no way this bastard was trying to bestow a blessing upon me. Even before arriving at the logical conclusion that this had to be a trap, my intuition screamed it. The vision it showed me was real; the moment I accepted, I would indeed be reborn as a dragon. However, whether this thrill and bizarrely overwhelming certainty were truly my own instincts or just some trick played by the dragon was something my cold reason had to discern.
Hadn't Ryeo-ah already shown me, directly and indirectly, several times? Even Creation Realm powerhouses like the celestial Sahabaek or the Lord of Yagwi City fell victim to illusions. It wouldn't be strange at all for someone of my lesser caliber to be bewitched by a dragon.
Did it sense my suspicion? *Fwhoosh.* The eye embedded in the map stared intently at me.
Ah, if nothing else, I could tell one thing. This guy wanted to turn me into a dragon. But he couldn't force it. Was it because Ryeo-ah was the one who initiated this ritual? Or did it require my consent to work?
Either way was fine. Postponing my choice, I cautiously spoke to the sun embedded in the painting. Ryeo-ah would surely know what was happening right now. She would help me in one way or another.
"Let's start with a chat. Are you indeed the entity known as the Eight-Winged Heavenly Dragon, the White Dragon?"
"I don't understand why you're trying to turn me into a dragon. On the surface, the terms are so good it's suspicious. Won't you enlighten your junior?"
The sun remained silent. As if asserting that silence was the basic virtue of any sun, it merely clung to the painting, sending up hazy ripples of flame.
*Flash!* My vision blinked out for a moment before returning. And what unfolded before me was a breathtaking, wondrous spectacle.
Reborn as a dragon, I wielded a power akin to miracles. Above the clouds, in the heavens closest to the sky, an entity held a miniature sun in its maw like a dragon pearl. Between its colossal, sweeping wings and legs, clouds fit for an immortal to ride flowed gracefully. In one hand, it held a tempest; in the other, it was draped in thunderclouds like divine punishment.
Every layer of cloud and strand of thundercloud draped around that dragon was like a top-tier Dharma treasure. The White Dragon was the spokesperson of the heavens. It had received the authority and power from the world to look down upon everything beneath the sky, destined to enjoy infinite glory within that majesty and authority.
That was the gist of it. I wanted it. As a cultivator, if I didn't covet such heaven-defying power, others would probably declare me unfit to be a cultivator. Power is the fundamental desire of any living creature, and a cultivator is someone who must value that desire as dearly as survival itself.
But that was exactly why it was so suspicious.
"I'm not accepting this. It's too suspicious. You have to at least explain the reason before I take it."
It was the same logic as finding a five-dollar bill on the street and pocketing it versus a stranger handing you tens of thousands of dollars—the latter only breeds discomfort. If you don't know the intention, don't play along. Just following that rule gets you halfway there.
Was it fed up with Hayun, who glared back as if daring it to try something? *Fwhoosh.* The flames of the sun embedded in the painting quieted down, as if in deep thought. But soon, the worst-case scenario unfolded.
——-!
The solar flames surged violently and shot straight toward me.
"For a great dragon, aren't your manners a bit lacking?"
I anticipated this, so I can easily handle it. ...That was merely my personal, optimistic assumption. Sometimes, there exist irresistible disasters that no amount of preparation can prevent. That was the perfect description for the current situation.
"Are you insane?!"
I swung my Dokkaebi club with all my might to swat away the rushing flames, and immediately fired the Red Agate Bow at the sun's eye with the maximum power I could muster. No matter how prepared I was, this was a transcendent existence I couldn't afford to underestimate. I had no intention of dragging this out.
But expecting the opponent to play along with my plans was incredibly naive.
*Sssss.*
"Fuck!"
My Dokkaebi club, which had just swatted the flames, melted away! I had only swung it once, yet a weapon that strictly belonged to the rank of Dharma treasures had vanished so futilely.
But that wasn't the end. *Oooong!* The dragon flames swept over, threatening to swallow my entire body. The Golden Command Robe, which rippled with mysterious waves to block enemy attacks, and the Red Agate Bow, which I had drawn in a desperate bid to trade flesh for bone... both melted under the dragon's authority, which was slow yet simultaneously impossible to block or evade, declaring their submission as they dissolved.
*Fwhoooosh!*
The flames of authority began to blanket the surroundings as if nothing could stop them. Before I knew it, the white waves and the colossal crystal of the turtle were gone, replaced long ago by a hellish sea of fire.
The funny thing was, in this fire where my Dharma treasures had melted into puddles of liquid without even putting up a fight, I was completely unharmed. Even if I had achieved the Three Extremes this time, it made no sense.
It seems it doesn't want to kill me. If so, as long as I still had breath in my lungs, I had to struggle to the very end. I had to do at least that much so that even if I died, I wouldn't leave any regrets behind.
*Clank-clank-clank! Crack, crunch!*
Ink-colored chains spread in all directions, and bizarre, craggy rocks wrapped around my body like armor.
*Click, clack.*
Soon, over the armor that completely covered my body, the ink-colored chains fluttered like ornaments, and a massive aura erupted from Hayun.
*Sssss—*
A horned rock monster, radiating an aura so dense it was practically visible. A realm where merely unleashing one's power could cause meaningful ripples in the world. It was the unique aura of an existence that had reached the limits of the Three Extremes: Essence, Qi, and Spirit.
The rumor that reaching the limits in all three fields would cause their powers and elements to interlock, exploding with a force akin to a rampage... It turned out to be true. The Essence, Qi, and Spirit, having reached their absolute limits, did more than just complement each other; they pulled each other up like an imugi's waterspout.
With this level of power, I felt I could put up a good fight against the White Dragon Island Master and that old man I met last time. The sad reality, however, was that the entity before my eyes was far too lofty to be compared to the likes of the White Dragon Island Master or some old man of the Three Extremes.
"Motherfucker."
The sheer absurdity of it made curses slip out naturally. Getting stronger didn't necessarily mean things got better. Now that my vision had cleared, I could see things I couldn't see before—and I was supposed to block *that*?
*Craaaack! Clank-clank-clank-clank!*
Every element of the chains and rocks wrapping my body—their purity, density, and size—improved. Yet, as if mocking my efforts, the surrounding flames flared even more violently. And then, they finally began to melt me as well. However, it didn't feel like the end would be complete ashes. My instincts whispered that it would be something far more horrific or bizarre.
"Ughhhhh."
*Drip... drip...*
I was melting. The chains covering my body began to drip molten iron, sagging like rubber bands, and the bizarre rocks crumbled under the waves of fire like a sandcastle on a beach.
But this wasn't right.
"Ha, fuck this."
Just because you're a bit stronger and at a higher realm doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you want. I had never given anyone permission to kill me or handle me as they pleased just because they were greater than me. No matter if it was a dragon or whatever, I never agreed to let them do as they wished with me. Sure, I had trampled and snuffed out countless lives myself, but what did that have to do with me? I could harm others and treat them however I wanted, but the same must absolutely never happen to me.
Yes, exactly. Extreme selfishness. But there was no word that described me better than that. I could say it proudly, without a shred of shame or even a hint of regret. So I couldn't just end here. I had too many things I wanted to do, and too many stories left to tell, to collapse in a place like this. No matter how painful, no matter how despairing, I would endure endlessly.
How much time had passed? I knew at least that the passing time had to be measured in days, not hours.
".....Haaah."
A wheezing, deflating sound escaped my throat. Since my vocal cords and even the area where my lungs should be had melted and lost their function, this was the best attempt at speech I could manage. How long had I resisted like that? It was when half of my body had melted and flowed away despite my efforts.
*Crack—shiver.* The painting, which had been watching my melting form with satisfaction, swung wide open.
What emerged from it was a mass of flames emitting a blinding light. It was a majestic, miniature sun, radiating an aura that mocked me as if to say what I had been fighting wasn't even its true body.
*Sssss—!*
Soon, deciding that this was enough, the sun's eye opened its round body wide. It resembled a cradle, or perhaps the Iron Maiden I had seen back on Earth. At the same time, the melted parts of my body began to be sucked into it. No wonder it had painstakingly melted me instead of just burning me to ashes because it had a specific use for me. That was why it had subjected me to high-level dismantling and reassembling over and over again. That was the source of the dread I had felt earlier. The feeling that this would be worse than death.
Watching my liquefied body get sucked into that round sun felt like watching a reverse playback of a cracked egg's contents flowing back inside. An egg. Yes, it was an egg.
*Crack—gulp!*
The egg, gaping like a wide-open maw, swallowed me whole. It felt like my body was melting. No, it *was* melting. At this rate, every element of my being, including my body and soul, would be dissolved, dismantled, and reassembled. I knew this well, having felt this bastard knead my body like dough for dismantling and refining multiple times.
But you know what? You're not the only one who can do this.
In the end, this act was also an extension of the ritual I was performing earlier. What was needed was limitless imagination and delicate control, just like when I obtained the limits of the mind and the fruits of cultivation at the turtle's altar. The gaping entrance of the egg had already closed, and within it, every element that made up my being was swirling in a vortex. However, the initiative was still mine. In the first place, this ritual was practically a feast Ryeo-ah had prepared for me. Since this space and these offerings were solely for my sake, I started with an overwhelming advantage in every aspect. The only things lacking were experience and seasoned technique. And I could make up for that lack of experience and technique by copying the methods of the bastard currently trying to turn my body into dragon clay.
*Squish.*
Dragon wings sprouted from my back. I changed those dragon wings into *my* wings. Golden, glowing dragon eyes were embedded in my sockets. I stained those reptilian eyes into *my* pitch-black eyes. Pure white dragon scales and feathers began to grow on my body. I transformed those heavenly dragon scales and feathers into *my* armor and clothes.
They say destruction is easier than creation. I ruthlessly trampled the perfect masterpiece the dragon was trying to build on this foundation, deeply embedding the elements of my own existence into its ruins.
*Fwhoosh~*
The sun raged. But really, what can you even do here? Try me, you motherfucker. I'll tear down everything you build, piece by piece. At the very least, things won't go the way you want. At least half. I must turn at least half of my body into a form of my own making.
"Senior! We can't hold out much longer!"
"You whine too much. If you do your best, you can easily hold out for another two double-hours."
"Senior! Elder Gang Su-gong has gone missing in action, and Elder Gang So-ye barely returned alive with fatal wounds! This means the eastern defensive line is...!"
"I know. I am not deaf."
*Whoosh—thud!*
"Senior!"
"Sigh... I told you not to make a fuss."
Ryeo-ah calmly pulled out a Dharma treasure arrow lodged in her abdomen. After briefly soaking it in her own blood, she shot it right back.
"Cough! This is nothing... Hmph. You're sturdy, so you'll make a good distraction. What are you! Don't control me... Hurry up and block them."
One of the Three Extremes masters who had thrown the spear charged straight toward his own allies. Time was bought.
"But at this rate... We must flee."
"If we cut it off here, everything will be for naught."
Ryeo-ah firmly cut off the elders' words.
*Jingle—!*
She danced, spitting ominous incantation characters from her mouth while clutching her aching chest.
I was careless. No matter the circumstances, I underestimated the relic left behind by a dragon. If only I had paid a bit more attention.
The dragon had already become a part of the ritual. If she cut it off now, in the worst-case scenario, they would have to face the remnants of the White Dragon in addition to the enemies they were currently fighting.
*Boom!*
Soon, three ships advanced toward them, having shattered all defensive lines. No, looking at the things dragging what could practically be called islands, Gang Ha-yeon counted their numbers.
"The Blue Dragon Island. The Red Dragon Island. Even several major sects of the Five Dragons Sea have arrived."
"Is that so?"
"What will you do? There appear to be at least twenty masters of the Three Extremes alone."
"Who knows."
One of the countless eyes on Ryeo-ah's body stared at the egg resting on the dried turtle shell. That thing had appeared after completely absorbing the white liquid filling the shell and the turtle's crystal orb. What would emerge from within? The White Dragon, or Hayun? Or perhaps some other entity born of their fusion?