Chapter 389
Chapter 389
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 389
Chapter Title: Racial War (28)
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Fortunately, this place wasn't the Earth they knew as their home planet.
A completely different planet. A different Earth.
'...It really was a trap.'
Lee Hyuk-soo thought.
Han Shin had seen right through it.
The Eternal Train stopped at random locations.
Neither the hosts nor other races could decide that.
But a host could induce them to get off at a specific station.
They'd been lured by Host Hoot.
Lee Hyuk-soo gave a bitter smile.
Without Han Shin's insight, they might have fallen completely for Hoot's sweet talk, attaching far greater meaning to this "fake Earth" and plunging into utter despair.
Of course, that didn't make the situation any better.
Right in front of them, in the heart of a hellscape swirling with blood-red mist, loomed a colossal being radiating indescribable despair and malice from every inch of its form.
"...Ataraxia."
The name slipped from Lee Hyuk-soo's lips in a low murmur, tinged with some indefinable bitterness.
Ataraxia. The Ancient Dragon of Despair.
"......You shouldn't have come here."
He greeted them in human form.
For a split second, Han Shin's brow furrowed.
"'Archmage'?"
What burst from Han Shin's mouth wasn't mere surprise.
It was a cry laced with deep shock—as if a nightmare from the past had clawed its way back to life—and suppressed fighting spirit.
No mistaking it.
The "Half-Demon Battlefield," where he'd been forcibly dragged by the Demon King of the Karmic Flames.
In that hellish place, Han Shin had devoured the cores of the Fairy Queen and countless half-demons, achieving explosive growth.
At the peak of his arrogance, when he believed no one could stop him, a single existence had crushed him with overwhelming power, forcing him to his knees.
The figure standing before him now.
'The bastard who made me lose twice.'
Their first encounter had been during the "Second Night."
Using composite magic, he'd driven the other to the brink of death, forcing Han Shin to consume a doppelganger's core and become a half-demon.
This made it their third meeting.
"......"
Lee Hyuk-soo and the other team members exchanged puzzled looks at Han Shin's sudden outburst.
To them, Ataraxia was just a powerful dragon—a potential enemy of Park Chan-woo, perhaps.
They couldn't understand why Han Shin was reacting so fiercely or calling him something odd like "Archmage."
Ataraxia didn't so much as twitch at Han Shin's shout.
His blood-red eyes continued coldly scanning the entire Human Representative Team.
Arrogance, as if gazing down at insignificant insects.
And a depth that concealed some inscrutable purpose.
"This is no place for vermin like you to set foot."
Ataraxia's voice spread low and oppressively.
"By the command of Dragon God Sepiro, not a single one of you humans will leave here alive."
Not a threat—a declaration.
A cold verdict born of absolute certainty in his power, proclaiming a fate already sealed.
The blood-red mist swirled even denser around him, writhing with the momentum to devour humanity at any moment.
Lee Hyuk-soo tightened his grip on Baal's sword.
"Sepiro... lured us here."
Lee Hyuk-soo's voice carried anger laced with cool analysis.
Hoot's trap, the fake Earth Station, and Ataraxia waiting here.
It had all been a meticulously planned trap from the start.
"Lured? Don't flatter yourselves, humans."
Ataraxia let out a scornful laugh.
"You merely followed the path laid out for you, arriving here like cattle led to the slaughterhouse. Your will never existed in the first place."
His words crushed the Human Representative Team's pride without mercy.
But it was also an undeniable reality.
From the Eternal Train to this moment, they'd been herded onto this stage of despair by an invisible hand.
"......"
Han Shin still couldn't tear his eyes from Ataraxia.
Memories of his crushing defeat at the "Archmage's" hands flooded his mind vividly.
All his attacks nullified, not even granted a single chance to counter—the overwhelming gap in power.
It had seared a deep trauma into him, while imprinting an indispensable goal he had to surpass.
'No third loss. Never!'
Flames ignited in Han Shin's eyes.
Fear mingled with an even fiercer fighting spirit surging from within.
The power from his contract with Archdemon Belial, the abilities gained from absorbing half-demon cores—he'd stake it all to finally overcome that "Archmage" this time.
That conviction would prove he could shatter his own limits.
As if sensing Han Shin's change, Ataraxia fixed his gaze on him for the first time.
A faint but unmistakable glint of interest flickered in his blood-red eyes.
"You... I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."
Ataraxia murmured softly.
If he didn't remember clearly, it must have been some minor role that passed by.
"Ataraxia. Have you truly become Sepiro's dog in the end?"
Adora's cold voice sliced through the blood-red mist.
Her red eyes fixed on Ataraxia, gleaming with contempt—and perhaps a faint pity for a former comrade.
Once, united by the common goal of Park Chan-woo, they'd acknowledged and cooperated with each other, despite differing methods.
But now, Ataraxia seemed nothing more than a faithful hound obeying only Sepiro's will, without even a shadow of his former self.
Ataraxia's blood-red eyes turned to Adora for a moment.
The arrogant smile on his face twisted ever so slightly—almost imperceptibly—for a brief instant.
"Dog......"
Ataraxia murmured lowly.
His voice held no emotion, but the blood-red mist churning more violently around him hinted at turmoil within.
"Vermin like you could never comprehend the great will of Dragon God Sepiro. I am merely a tool for his glory. If he commands it, I will gladly paint your graves with this filthy blood."
His words rang like those of a zealot.
Blind loyalty to Sepiro.
The respect and trust he'd once shown Park Chan-woo had vanished without a trace, replaced by twisted devotion.
"He whom we believed in and awaited possesses the qualifications of a Dragon God."
At Adora's words, Ataraxia's blood-red eyes sank deeper into darkness.
The phrase "qualifications of a Dragon God" pierced like a blade into a festering wound.
Once, he'd seen fragments of Sepiro in Park Chan-woo, even prepared to devote everything to him as the new Dragon God.
But that faith had shattered, leaving only betrayal and an even more fanatical loyalty to Sepiro.
"A traitor has no qualifications as Dragon God."
Ataraxia's voice was icy as a frozen blade.
"He is nothing but a cunning fraud. A fool who dared usurp the Dragon God's name, deceiving me—and all dragonkind."
Not a hint of hesitation in his words.
As if reaffirming a truth he'd repeated to himself countless times.
No trace remained of his former respect for Park Chan-woo—only the cold ruthlessness of Sepiro's loyal tool.
"......!"
The new message poured oil on their desperate situation.
It wasn't enough to just defeat Ataraxia—they had to seize the "ticket" hidden somewhere on him to escape this hellish station.
And the time limit was a mere 12 hours.
Shwooooo!
That was when it happened.
Ataraxia's body swelled.
In moments, it completed its transformation into a massive jet-black dragon.
"...Whoa, that's huge!"
"......A dragonkin."
Everyone stared at Ataraxia in shock.
Finding and retrieving the ticket from a calamity like the dragon before them seemed nearly impossible.
While rebuilding the Dragon God Temple.
Ataraxia had been elated.
If Park Chan-woo—his second vessel—won and became the true "Dragon God."
Then the dragons, dragonkind, could change.
But Park Chan-woo had lost.
Because the first vessel had opened the "Great Rift" first.
That memory was an eternal, unhealing scar for Ataraxia—and the root of the fanatical loyalty now consuming him.
The moment his once-radiant hope turned to despair, he'd thought he'd lost everything.
And it was Dragon God Sepiro who had exploited that void.
Sepiro offered him a new purpose—a twisted but unshakable goal.
Kwaaaaang!
Ataraxia, transformed into a colossal jet-black dragon, roared.
The sound alone shook the air, making the blood-red mist writhe even more fiercely.
An overwhelming pressure, incomparable to his human form, crushed the battlefield.
"Humans. This is your final stop."
His voice now wove in draconic tongue, laced with mana that rattled the mind just to hear.
Lee Hyuk-soo swallowed hard.
The being before him seemed stronger than any foe he'd faced yet.
The system message was merciless.
12 hours.
Steal the ticket from that dragon calamity.
'...It's not impossible.'
Lee Hyuk-soo racked his brain rapidly.
A head-on fight was suicide.
As that thought crossed his mind, someone spoke from behind.
"I'll show you my full power."
Black energy began rising from Han Shin's entire body.
This would be the first time he'd unleashed everything.
The third encounter.
A blazing resolve to avenge his past defeats burned in his eyes.
'Archmage... no, Ataraxia.'
Han Shin ground his teeth.
The despair of his first defeat, the humiliation of becoming a half-demon after the second.
All of it had been stepping stones to this moment.
He was no longer the weak Han Shin of the past.
Han Shin stepped forward.
The fighting spirit pouring from him blazed fiercely, refusing to yield to the massive dragon's pressure.
Adora stared coldly at Ataraxia, a faint sneer curling her lips.
"In the end, you've become Sepiro's clown, Ataraxia. How did the one who once discussed dragonkind's future fall so low?"
At Adora's provocation, Ataraxia's nostrils flared.
The blood-red mist whirled around him like a reflection of his rage.
"Shut your mouth, witch."
A massive foreclaw slammed down toward them.
As if a chunk of the sky had fallen—an enormous strike.
"Dodge!"
Lee Hyuk-soo shouted urgently, hurling himself aside.
The other team members evaded or braced to defend in their own ways.
Kwang!
The ground quaked, a huge dust cloud rising.
A deep crater scarred the spot where Ataraxia's attack had missed.
"We need to find the ticket! Look for openings while fighting him!"
Lee Hyuk-soo yelled, readjusting his grip on Baal's sword.
His eyes remained coolly composed despite the despair.
However.
"【Despair.】"
⟨ Dragon Word of Despair ⟩
Ataraxia uttered the Dragon Word of Despair.