The Key of Destiny (2)
The Dragon's Vessel.
It was the only power in this wretched world that bordered on the mythical.
For generations, the Farrow family had passed down the Dragon's Vessel. The family's founder, Round Farrow, had forged a contract with a dragon to ensure this power would flow through his bloodline, a pact that remained valid as long as the dragon lived.
However, there was a catch.
This power, governed by the rule of primogeniture, changed its form with every generation.
Some ancestors gained immense mana, while others inherited genius administrative abilities. Occasionally, a magic circle capable of casting spells would be engraved directly onto a successor's palm.
In other words, it was a cosmic lottery.
There was no telling what kind of power the next heir would inherit.
The current head of the Farrow family, Baron Ark Farrow, had inherited immense physical strength. Thanks to this, he had managed to rebuild their crumbling house to some extent.
His greatest achievement was during the war against the Lapis Kingdom a few years ago. He had performed minor distinguished service, earning a significant number of slaves and officially incorporating the barbarian-infested territories into the family's domain.
Though that land was a constant source of trouble, once fully subjugated, it could be ruled without interference from the kingdom's central politics.
Since it was rare for a lord to leave a lasting legacy in a single lifetime, Ark Farrow had undoubtedly poured his blood and sweat into the family.
But now, Ark Farrow's era was drawing to a close, and the era of Jeron Farrow was about to begin.
Even if Jeron himself didn't want it.
"Bring the relic."
It was the so-called Dragon's Relic. No matter what crisis the family faced, they had never sold it.
It was a golden chalice studded with gems, used to hold the blood of the predecessor and pass it down to the heir.
Jeron truly wished it didn't have to come to this, but he had no choice. He handed a dagger to his father.
Slice.
Ark Farrow sliced the palm of his remaining hand. Blood pooled, filling the chalice to the brim.
Shhh.
Then, something incredible happened.
Until now, Jeron had never seen mana move. It was a mystery he was witnessing for the first time in his life.
The crimson blood absorbed the mana and turned a brilliant gold.
As if his very life force had been drained, Baron Ark Farrow's face grew even paler.
"Dr-drink it."
There was no other way. It was absurd that a simple arrow wound and tetanus would end his father's life, but the power had to be passed to Jeron.
Gulp, gulp.
As the golden blood slid down his throat, Jeron collapsed on the spot.
Whoosh!
An abyss of infinite darkness swallowed him.
A moment later, a massive golden dragon tore through the darkness and appeared before him. Jeron realized this was not reality, but a world within his own mind.
He had heard about the Dragon's Vessel from his father since childhood, but he had never truly believed a dragon would appear before his eyes.
In this brutal, savage world, it was hard to believe his family possessed such power. It wasn't just a personal inheritance; it was a bloodline legacy.
Yet, with the dragon towering over him, he had no choice but to believe.
"Successor of the Dragon's Vessel, what is the desire you harbor?"
Desire?
How could he have such a thing? Having died on a ruined Earth and gained a new life, his only desire was to eat well and live comfortably.
Light spilled from the dragon's golden eyes, and the locked memories inside Jeron's mind burst open. The memories of his past life flooded out in all directions.
When the world fell to the mutants, Jeron had lost everyone he loved. Especially his family.
It had been agonizing when he was first born with these memories, but he had buried them deep in a corner of his heart.
'If only I had a single photograph. Now, I can't even remember the faces of my wife and children.'
If that counted as a desire, then so be it.
"You carry the memories of a past life, and a highly unusual experience at that. Your desire has reached me, and it shall be granted."
"W-wait!"
But that was the end of it.
When he opened his eyes, a burning sensation flared in his palm. A golden key had been engraved there like a tattoo.
His father was still gasping for breath. Ark Farrow opened his mouth with difficulty.
"That... is your power."
His father lost consciousness. Judging by his shallow breathing, the next few days would be the critical limit. In this primitive world, there was absolutely no way to treat him.
Jeron had dreamed of his past life for the first time in a long while. Perhaps it was because that dragon had dragged up the memories he had buried so deep.
Like everyone who survived the apocalypse, he had lived under the constant threat of death for a very long time. If he had been alone, it might have been different, but he had done everything to keep his family fed. He had risked his life for a single piece of bread, and he had taken the lives of others.
Jeron often referred to this reincarnated world as a savage era, but in truth, the real savagery belonged to the ruined Earth.
He had witnessed countless deaths. His son had died, then his daughter, and finally, he had lost his wife. It was a miracle he hadn't gone mad and ended his own life.
Yet, it wasn't all misery. Even in that brutal era, love had bloomed, and he had felt the warmth of human connection. Now, those memories were faded and worn.
After the rush of memories passed over him like a tidal wave, Jeron woke up drenched in sweat.
"Whew, damn it. I thought I'd forgotten all of it."
It felt as if the trauma of his past life had been reawakened. He had thought this current life was savage enough and that he had grown numb to shock, but he had been wrong.
He gulped down the water on the table.
When he turned his head, he saw a familiar sight shimmering beyond a transparent barrier. It was his final sanctuary, the place he had tried so hard to forget.
It was there that Jeron had buried his family, and it was there that he had ultimately been torn to pieces by mutants. Without even a grave to mark his existence, he had become nothing more than monster feed.
A bitter feeling washed over him.
"Is this a dream?"
If not, there was no way to explain this.
Slap!
He slapped his own cheek hard. A sharp pain flared. Clutching his stinging cheek, he rubbed his eyes, wondering if the crazy dragon was playing tricks on him.
He rubbed his eyes until they were red, but the landscape of the ruined Earth remained clear and vivid.
Suddenly, the details of the Dragon's Vessel came back to him. The unique power granted by the gold dragon was a key, though there had been no explanation. The golden key engraved on his palm was glowing faintly.
In other words, this key had somehow opened a dimensional gateway. And it led to the Earth where Jeron had lived his past life.
Carefully, he flicked his finger toward the barrier.
Ripple!
The dimensional gate rippled like water.
He peered through the gate. Opposite the quiet farm he had seen earlier, a gray city loomed in the distance. A concrete jungle.
He couldn't tell how much time had passed, but the high-rise buildings were covered in green. Vines and vegetation clung to the structures, making the city look like a wild forest.
He could tell this was no illusion. But could he pass through it?
He hesitated to throw his body in right away. Instead of stepping through, he drew his sword and thrust it forward.
Ripple!
The blade slipped smoothly through the rippling barrier.
Jeron was now certain. The power of his Dragon's Vessel was to open a dimensional gate. Specifically, a gate to the ruined Earth.
His heart began to pound wildly.
He had wished to bring back a single family photo. Had that desire created this dimensional key?
He immediately realized the endless possibilities.
That was Earth. While this medieval world was an underdeveloped, primitive society, Earth—even in its ruined state—had possessed highly advanced technology. What if he could travel between them freely?
How much wealth and how many incredible resources lay abandoned there? The apocalypse hadn't been caused by nuclear war; humanity had simply been wiped out by mutants. The infrastructure was still intact.
"Monopolizing Earth..."
It seemed entirely possible.
But Jeron didn't have much time. If his father, Baron Ark Farrow, had been safe, he might have approached this more cautiously. He had no idea what lay beyond the portal, nor did he know how many mutants were crawling around. Furthermore, if there were other survivors like he had been, they would pose an even greater threat. The ruined Earth was a place crawling with desperate, unstable people.
He wanted to take his time, plan, and run more tests, but he couldn't guarantee his father would survive the next few days.
First, he had to save his father. Even with treatment, he didn't know if the man would survive another year given the complications, but he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
He packed his gear and conducted one last test.
"Open."
The command word didn't matter. He only had to focus on forming the gate, and the golden key on his palm would glow and manifest the portal. Closing it was just as simple; he only had to wish it shut.
He tossed a bag of supplies toward the gate.
Thud!
The bag bounced off the barrier and fell to the floor.
"..."
This confirmed that he could only transport items that were in direct contact with his body. What about living humans? Could he bring someone else along if they were touching him?
He didn't have the time to test that now, and explaining it to someone else would be a headache. Bringing others along could wait until after he secured antibiotics.
He slung his backpack over his shoulders and checked his gear. He carried a longsword at his waist, a crossbow on his back, and was fully armored with a breastplate, helmet, greaves, and gauntlets. If things went south, he planned to open the gate and retreat immediately, but he couldn't afford to be careless. If he got bitten and turned into a mutant, the Farrow family would be finished.
After checking his equipment one last time, Jeron stepped through the dimensional gate.