Chapter 315
Chapter 315
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 315
Chapter Title: Dragon God Sepiro (1)
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The Black Witch's face grew pale.
She had realized she could no longer shake the dragons.
Neither the Clan of Despair nor the Clan of Sloth.
All of them were preparing solely for the witch's utter annihilation.
They stood on the verge of unleashing a barrage of spells amid a killing intent that seemed ready to upend the world.
...Dragon Tongue.
It was the language of curses.
Dragons were bestowed with powerful Dragon Tongue from birth, tied to their clan's name.
But Dragon Tongue was no blessing.
It was a curse.
A brand etched from the moment of birth.
It was also a stigma.
Dragons were such an overwhelmingly powerful race.
They were inherently limited in their magical applications from the start.
They could only properly amplify magic related to their namesake.
Only Dragon God Sepiro was free from that curse.
He could control all draconic languages and amplify any magic without even needing Dragon Tongue.
To control the dragons' language was to be the Dragon God.
Sepiro proved himself with a single word.
It would have taken dozens, hundreds of words to claim he wasn't Sepiro.
However.
"...Dragons dare invade the 'Witch's Night'?"
This was not the complete Sepiro.
At best, it was an 'avatar'.
Unless the Transcendent Dragon himself intervened directly, it was impossible to erase the Black Witch within this 'Witch's Night'.
Even this avatar fell short compared to the one that had battled the demon gods.
She didn't know why Sepiro had created two avatars...
But being separated, it couldn't exert its full power.
Its strength had waned.
This is my chance.
This was an opportunity.
If the Black Witch could slay Sepiro's avatar alongside the dragons...
...then no one would dare trespass this 'Night'.
Not the remaining Twelve Races, nor the demons.
She had already crossed an irreversible river with Sepiro.
-Didn't it exclude 'you', the very embodiment of the Abyss's curse?
Because those words rang true.
The Black Witch understood what Sepiro had demanded as the price of their deal.
Asking for the Abyss's curse was tantamount to demanding her very existence.
Sepiro would never engage in an ordinary transaction to begin with.
He was a being who lived utterly for himself.
He had offered land for the witches to live on, in exchange for sacrifice—but the Black Witch had given only half.
She had bestowed a 'false qualification' upon another witch, pretending to hand over everything.
Sepiro had seen through it.
He would do anything to claim the remaining 'payment'.
The silver lining, at least...
...is that he can't touch this 'Night' itself.
The outcome of the deal could not be altered.
The 'moon' once wielded by the King of Karma had shattered.
Now, the Witch's Night was propelled by a false great rift gate crafted by Sepiro.
The moment the deal concluded, it transformed into a 'moon' and was handed over to the Black Witch.
The 'false great rift gate' was magic created by Sepiro.
It was as if he had given her the magic itself—but honestly, even the Black Witch couldn't comprehend what it was.
It was clearly magic from a dimension far beyond her understanding.
"Witches, let us dance."
The Black Witch declared.
Her words spread across the entire Night.
Soon, witches burst forth from within the 'filth'.
"What dance shall we perform?"
"Let's gift those pathetic dragons an ecstatic curse."
"To challenge a witch on witch lands? What fools."
The witches sneered.
At the same time, the Black Witch began to 'divide' herself.
All her flesh separated, to be absorbed by the witches.
Her body could bestow 'false qualifications'.
"Let us dance the 'Black Witch's' dance."
Whoosh!
Dozens of witches were engulfed in 'black flames'.
In the Abyss, such flames signified death.
Yet they did not scatter as ashes.
"Ahh!"
"My curse to you, Black Witch!"
The witches laughed.
They were burning their own curses and lives.
Their bodies ignited, shriveled, and soon all the witches transformed into 'Black Witches'.
The Black Witches spoke in unison.
"Welcome to the 'Night of Curses', foolish dragons."
Rumble!
The Abyss trembled.
All the mighty beings of the Abyss turned their gaze back to the 'Night'.
"I sense a tremendous magical presence."
"Dragons?"
"Are the dragonkin warring with the Black Witch?"
The news of the demon gods' battle with Sepiro spread like wildfire.
Rumors swirled that a mere avatar had overwhelmed multiple demon gods.
The Twelve Clan Lords were indeed somewhat tense about it.
"...Has Sepiro grown even stronger in the meantime?"
"There's a reason the Transcendent Dragon's true body doesn't emerge easily."
"Its mere appearance would trigger an uncontrollable 'cataclysm'."
As expected of Dragon God Sepiro.
None of the Twelve Clan Lords revealed their 'true bodies'.
They all moved via 'avatars'.
Their true forms were too powerful, liable to spark war upon manifestation.
But Sepiro was on another level.
Even most of their avatars couldn't overpower multiple demon gods.
It just went to show how much of a 'menace' Sepiro was.
"Nothing better than the dragons dying alongside the witches."
"This Clan War will be a sight to behold."
"Ah, the dragonkin's ranking will drop nicely."
"They might even fall to the lower ranks."
The dragonkin were perennial contenders for first and second in the Clan Wars.
They had always received 'special privileges'.
But the lower a clan fell, the harsher the curses it incurred.
They would be offered as slaves to higher clans, their racial traits weakened, lands lost, or rendered infertile—inescapable curses.
If Sepiro's avatar was lost and the dragonkin weakened through war with the witches, top rankings would be out of reach.
Especially with the 'witches'' emergence—they were all on edge.
No clan would refuse worries vanishing on their own.
"My children, prepare."
"We'll stake everything in this 'Clan War'."
"This time, we'll reclaim first place."
"This time, we'll surpass the dragons."
"War."
All the clan lords declared war.
This Clan War was no different from outright war.
The clash between the dragons and the Black Witch began.
Filth rose like a tidal wave to engulf the dragons, while their manifested spells filled the skies.
Ultra-high-tier magic unfurled as effortlessly as breathing.
The countless magic circles embroidered across the heavens brimmed with intricate formulas.
If a mage were here, merely witnessing those formulas would propel them several levels forward.
It was that overwhelming a spectacle.
...Who are you?
Amid it all, Adora stared at Park Chan-woo.
The curse's power had intensified, rendering movement impossible.
The Black Witch's strength had multiplied dozens of times over.
Even breathing felt laborious, yet her focus remained solely on Park Chan-woo.
However, Park Chan-woo didn't spare her a glance.
Instead, he seemed to find the situation amusing, intently watching the war between the Black Witch and the dragons.
The usual Park Chan-woo...
...would have prioritized her and his comrades first.
Dagon and the others were still battling the witches.
The sudden surge of filth was slowly consuming them.
At this rate, annihilation was imminent.
...Sepiro.
This was Sepiro.
Not Park Chan-woo.
Not the heroic figure who had saved her and Orcmaster Kankun from the Tower of Pride.
Not the one who sacrificed himself time and again to save everyone.
Adora bit her lip.
In the end, Park Chan-woo had been devoured by Sepiro.
Sepiro's heart seemed to have erased Park Chan-woo's existence.
Left unchecked, he would fully become Sepiro.
"Killing Field."
All the Despair Dragons invoked the instant-death spell.
A domain at the edge of despair.
The 'Killing Field' slew all unpermitted beings in its vicinity.
"...Cursed wraiths, dance."
The Black Witch held her ground.
She summoned countless wraiths.
The wraiths danced, stirring an even greater tidal wave.
Then the wraiths merged, growing vaster still.
In size and cursed power alike.
Both sides were dead serious about killing each other.
They craved only mutual destruction.
A fierce will to exterminate their foes.
...They cared nothing for those caught in between.
"Aah...!"
"P-Please, Contractor! Spare us!"
Dagon cried out desperately.
Like prawns whose backs break in a whale fight.
They were sandwiched between dragons and witches.
Dagon, the Ten-Tailed Foxes, even the humans.
Though bolstered by 'Wish', this war far exceeded their levels.
The Twelve Races.
A clash between top-tier dragonkin and the Black Witch, bearer of the Abyss.
They would be reduced to dust by the crossfire.
Yet still...
...Park Chan-woo did not look their way.
She could hardly believe it was the same person.
He would have halted this war long ago.
His interest lay solely in the battle.
Whether the dragons could slay the Black Witch.
If the dragons won like this, only they would remain.
Everything else would perish.
"...Prophet."
Lee Hyuk-soo also gazed skyward.
The prophet he believed in and followed now dominated the dragons.
But could he still call that cynical figure a 'prophet' moving for humanity's sake?
Crunch!
Crack!
The curse unraveled.
Adora forcibly tore through all the curses.
The backlash twisted her body, shattered her bones, ruptured her organs.
Her mana flow went berserk.
Black blood streamed from her eyes.
She could see no more.
Even her senses faded.
Then, something astonishing occurred.
Behind her back.
"A-Adora? W-Why is the Reaper...?"
A reaper appeared.
The Reaper of Death.
It could only be seen as such.
Next, Adora pointed a finger.
At Park Chan-woo.
No...
Toward Sepiro's heart.
"...Die."
She commanded death.