Chapter 398
Chapter 398
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 398
Chapter Title: Racial War (37)
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It was unmistakably Sepiro.
He looked exactly like the 'First Clone,' and the mana intertwined within him was pure Sepiro through and through.
The Sepiro who had returned from the future alongside Park Chan-woo.
His heart had now materialized in its true form.
As an independent entity—and perhaps as Park Chan-woo's most powerful ally, or maybe even another mortal enemy.
'To think he'd separate even me.'
The newly manifested Sepiro was genuinely awestruck.
After severing everything within the rift, Park Chan-woo had somehow created even him.
Not just any ordinary being, but himself.
Sepiro himself.
Complete with all his memories, power, and every insight and potential gained from experiencing the future with Park Chan-woo—yet not subservient to him or merely a part of him. He had appeared as a perfectly independent 'Sepiro.'
This went beyond the realm of creation; it was a reconstitution bordering on the miraculous.
The Absolute Magic 'Sepiro' that Park Chan-woo had cast wasn't just about purifying Ataraxia—it was tantamount to reshaping his very existence anew.
'So this is it, Archmage. The realm you've reached.'
The reborn Sepiro gazed down at his hands.
They were perfect.
Indistinguishable from the body he once had as the Dragon God, yet the quality of the power dwelling within was markedly different.
Not the abyss-tainted power of the 'First Clone' that had returned from the Great Rift, but something far purer and more primordial—perhaps infused with a fragment of Park Chan-woo's divinity—a clear and potent mana.
The total quantity of mana had diminished, but its qualitative essence had undoubtedly evolved.
He lifted his head to look at Park Chan-woo.
He knew instinctively.
The current Park Chan-woo was a more powerful and complete existence than any form he had ever known in the past.
Far beyond the moment just before their regression, when he had barely seized control of one heart to offer as sacrifice.
"Fascinating."
A smile crept unbidden onto Sepiro's lips.
It wasn't the arrogance or cynicism of old, but a pure spark of intellectual curiosity mingled with genuine respect for a worthy adversary.
'I never imagined you'd separate me so perfectly, turning me into an independent being. What were you thinking? Me, who could become your greatest threat?'
He couldn't fathom Park Chan-woo's intentions.
Was he trying to enlist him as an ally?
Or did he crave an equal battle with another arch-enemy?
Or perhaps this was merely another cog in his grand design.
Park Chan-woo turned his gaze toward Ataraxia.
Within the spear of light, all corruption had vanished, and Ataraxia seemed to have reclaimed his original dignity. Yet he remained trapped in shock and confusion, unable to process the scene unfolding before him.
He glanced back and forth between Park Chan-woo and the newly appeared Sepiro, at a complete loss.
"Ataraxia."
Park Chan-woo called his name once more.
This time, laced with even deeper majesty and the irresistible force of a divine decree.
"You saw it. And you felt it. What is truth, and what is false despair."
He pointed to the spot on Ataraxia's chest where the abyss rune had once been—now reduced to a faint scar.
"Sepiro's chains are broken. It's not too late. You can still choose. Will you reclaim your past glory and open a new era for the dragonkin alongside me? Or will you remain ensnared by the ghosts of yesteryear and walk the path of self-destruction?"
It was a question—and an ultimatum.
Ataraxia stood silent for a long while.
His massive draconic form trembled faintly.
A torrent of emotions swirled in Ataraxia's eyes.
Loyalty to Sepiro, betrayal and hatred toward Park Chan-woo, and utter bewilderment at the unbelievable miracle before him—the new Park Chan-woo and the other Sepiro.
But deepest within his soul, a feeling long forgotten stirred once more.
The transformation of the dragonkin he had once dreamed of with Park Chan-woo. True glory.
It was a world utterly unlike the dominion through destruction and despair that Sepiro had promised—a harmonious coexistence where every being could realize their utmost potential.
"Urgh...!"
Ataraxia staggered back.
His enormous body convulsed in agony.
Park Chan-woo's words—his very presence—shook the primordial memories and pride sealed deep in Ataraxia's soul.
Yet at the same time, Sepiro's authority binding him, and the cold temptation of the 'Grail of the End' urging him toward apotheosis as an Outer God, refused to release their grip.
The Grail whispered.
Promising even greater power.
To destroy all and reign supreme as an absolute being.
Forget Park Chan-woo. Follow Lord Sepiro's great will.
That alone was his reason for being.
'My... reason for being?'
The abyssal darkness and original golden light in Ataraxia's eyes clashed more fiercely, muddling his mind.
Was following Sepiro truly his own will?
Or mere self-deception to escape endless despair?
Was his hatred for Park Chan-woo genuine, or a forced justification for his choices?
Memories surfaced like shards.
The pure passion in Park Chan-woo's eyes.
The overwhelming hope he had felt upon deciding to follow him.
All of it was now resurrecting before that sacred golden light emanating from Park Chan-woo.
"No... I... I am merely Lord Sepiro's tool... That is my glory..."
Ataraxia desperately tried to brainwash himself, but his voice had already lost its strength.
His soul wandered lost before the 'choice' Park Chan-woo offered.
Empty power gained in Sepiro's shadow, or the pride and true glory of the past he yearned to reclaim, even at the cost of everything?
If he rejected that light and chose Sepiro, he would be reborn as a perfect Outer God by the Grail—but it would be no true self, merely a puppet dancing to Sepiro's whims.
His soul lost forever.
But if he chose Park Chan-woo?
It would be utter treason against Sepiro.
A path that might demand death—or something worse.
What would become of his life, enslaved to the Grail of the End?
'My... pride...'
A single streak of black-red bloodtear traced down from Ataraxia's eye.
He remembered.
Long ago, before his fall, the pride he held as a noble dragonkin warrior.
The pure heart that willingly sacrificed for his kin.
Sepiro had trampled and corrupted it all under the name of despair.
But now, Park Chan-woo offered a chance to undo it all.
Even if it meant his own annihilation.
"RAAAAAAGH!!!"
Ataraxia roared skyward in raw anguish.
It was not a cry of despair.
It was the soul-shattering scream of one dragon staking everything on a final choice.
The abyssal runes coiling around his body blazed fiercely, seeking to devour him—but Ataraxia rejected the bonds with his last vestiges of will.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head.
In Ataraxia's eyes, confusion had given way to grim resolve and a faint but unmistakable revival of ancient draconic pride.
"I... Ataraxia... will kneel no longer to false despair."
Puuk!
He drove his own claw into his chest, straight at the abyssal rune.
An extreme choice to destroy Sepiro's brand himself.
"GRAAAAAH!"
Immense pain erupted as black blood sprayed like a fountain from his body.
Yet Ataraxia's eyes burned clearer and fiercer than ever.
In that instant, Park Chan-woo's 'Wish' gently touched his heart.
The warm light of Wish enveloped his wounded soul and body, purifying every remnant of Sepiro's corruption and despair.
The abyssal rune melted into golden light, and the chains of the Grail of the End binding him crumbled, powerless.
And astonishingly, the essence of Ataraxia's original soul and life force—imprisoned within the Grail—surged back into his body with brilliant light, as if liberated at last.
Sepiro had claimed to free Ataraxia's life from 'death' by containing it in the Grail, but it was merely enslavement using his soul and life as collateral.
Now, by rejecting that bondage and choosing his pride, Ataraxia allowed Park Chan-woo's purifying light to truly 'liberate' him.
Pain as if his body were shattering.
Simultaneously, a profound sense of complete liberation welling from the depths of his soul.
Ataraxia finally understood.
This was the true 'freedom' he had so desperately craved—and the 'pride' of being a dragon.
A choice that could mean death or dissolution, yet he harbored no regrets.
On the contrary, his soul shone fuller than ever.
When the purifying light faded, no puppet of Sepiro or despair-maddened dragon remained.
Wounded and weary, but in his eyes burned the nobility of the primordial dragons reborn.
'Righting a wrong.'
Not betrayal.
A resolution to restore everything to its proper state.
Because he had realized.
The Sepiro dominating the dragonkin now was not the one he had followed.
The being before him was the true Dragon God he should serve.
Park Chan-woo had dismantled all his influences, restructured them, and evolved them beyond their former state.
Including even the hidden trait of acquiring succession rights to all 'Thrones' from 「Absolute One, Sanctuary」.
At this moment, Park Chan-woo truly held the qualifications of a Dragon God.
Ataraxia bowed his head quietly, yet with profound respect and newfound loyalty.
"My... true liege."