Chapter 467
Chapter 467
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 467
Chapter Title: Dinner
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"Isn't that the Dragon God Temple?"
"A human... on the throne of the Dragon God Temple?"
"Park Chan-woo has taken Sepiro's seat?"
The scene was broadcast across the entire Abyss without omission.
All beings who had watched the end of the Racial War doubted their own eyes and held their breath.
The heart of the dragon race, the absolute sanctuary that permitted no outsider's footsteps—the Dragon God Temple.
And at its highest point, on the throne reserved solely for the Dragon God, a single 'human' now sat.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
As if that seat had always been his.
The moment Park Chan-woo settled onto the jade throne, the golden divinity surrounding him resonated with the temple's sacred aura, blazing far more brilliantly than before.
"......"
All the watching dragons, swept up in awe they couldn't explain, bowed their heads.
No one raised an objection.
No, they couldn't.
Their old god had cast off his crown and fled, abandoning his people.
Filling that vacancy felt as natural as the laws of the universe.
Even if he was human, his qualifications had already been proven.
Sepiro had become an outer god and vanished beyond the great rift, while two of the Abyss's other pillars—the great nine demon lords—had vanished into nothingness.
Two colossal pillars of the old era had crumbled at once.
And atop those ruins, Park Chan-woo ascended the Dragon God Temple's throne as if he were the sole king of a new age, as naturally as could be.
But inwardly, everyone was in turmoil.
All the laws and hierarchies of the Abyss were being completely rewritten in this moment by one man's hand.
And moreover...
Sepiro's lingering clone.
It lay prostrated before the throne, as if submitting to its new occupant.
As if acknowledging Park Chan-woo as the true god of the next generation.
As if choosing submission.
"Two of the great nine thrones have vanished."
"What happens to the demons under them?"
"Can the Abyss be sustained by seven thrones?"
The demons' chaos was beyond words.
Though they had avoided the worst—10% of their population enslaved—their sky, the nine thrones, now had two eternal vacancies.
An indelible scar had been etched into the pride of those who had ruled the Abyss as overlords for eons.
They were no longer nine.
Seven.
That sense of loss and humiliation meant a spiritual defeat deeper than losing part of their race.
And so, the announcement of all rankings concluded.
The long, grueling Racial War and all its scenarios had finally drawn to a close.
Whoosh—!
All beings left amid the battlefield ruins were engulfed in blinding light and began scattering back to their homelands.
The long war had finally ended.
But everyone knew.
This wasn't the end.
It was a new beginning.
Now that Park Chan-woo, the Abyss's new sun, had risen...
Park Chan-woo sat on the Dragon God Temple's jade throne with his eyes closed.
His shoulders felt heavy.
As if bearing a planet, his bones creaked and his organs felt like they might burst under the intense pressure.
It wasn't physical fatigue.
It was the weight of the soul, something he couldn't experience even reliving eons.
The results of the Racial War.
Every ranking he had assigned felt like massive shackles tightening around his neck.
Of course, he had chosen the lower ranks carefully.
Based on objective criteria.
From their actions in the war, the outcomes of their choices—he had strived for fairness.
But he knew.
At the deepest core, his will, his vengeance, had driven it all.
To strike at the demons and Sepiro, this had been necessary.
Had he not judged them, had he not overturned the board...
The demons would have continued ruling the Abyss, toying with races as playthings in their suffering.
Sepiro would have fortified his kingdom further, ultimately dooming humanity and the Abyss.
So he had no choice but to proceed.
His mind knew.
Their penalties weren't due to him.
They were inevitable outcomes regardless.
Yet still.
The fact that his hands had sealed their fates remained unchanged.
That weight and pressure defied imagination.
He had seen it.
The despair on the losers' faces as the final rankings were called and results executed.
The screams and sighs echoing across the Abyss from countless races.
He was the one who had pulled the trigger on all that tragedy.
'Savior... or destroyer?'
The line between them blurred.
To humanity, he was a god, but to others, a calamity, an apocalypse.
Now, he alone had to bear all this karma.
"Hoo..."
A deep sigh settled heavily in the empty Dragon God Temple.
That was when it happened.
From the darkness, a familiar voice echoed.
"You don't have to bear all that weight alone."
It was Zero.
He had silently approached and now stood beside Park Chan-woo.
A faint trace of understanding softened his emotionless face.
"Your choices were the best possible."
Zero's voice remained dry, but it carried unfamiliar comfort.
"You ended this game in a way no one foresaw. And as a result, the Abyss gained new possibilities instead of destruction."
Zero gazed at Park Chan-woo on the throne.
"You proved your convictions. That your way is far more 'efficient' than Sepiro's or the nine lords'."
That was the highest praise Zero could offer.
Park Chan-woo gave a faint smile at the words.
"Efficient, huh. That's so you."
But bitterness lingered in that smile.
He knew.
This wasn't the end.
The seeds he had sown would unleash massive storms ahead.
Sepiro had fled, and the remaining seven lords were sharpening blades of vengeance.
All the Abyss's races would now be swept into chaos welcoming a new era.
Having taken the Dragon God Temple, he had to stand at the center of it all.
'I'm tired.'
In this returned world, he had never known a moment's peace.
Always fighting something, proving something.
And that fight seemed eternal.
Relentless fatigue gnawed at his soul.
As if reading his deep anguish, Zero moved.
He approached Sepiro's clone, collapsed like a husk before the throne.
Without hesitation, he thrust his hand into its chest.
Puk.
With a gruesome sound, Zero's hand plunged into the clone's hollow thorax.
Groping briefly, his hand emerged clutching something.
In his grasp was a faintly glowing golden dragon heart, still warm.
It held the transcendent dragon's essence intact.
"......"
Park Chan-woo watched silently.
Zero returned, holding the heart of what had been his other half.
He offered it as if it were only natural.
"Take it."
Zero's voice stayed dry.
"It'll minimize the backlash from returning."
His words reminded Park Chan-woo of what he had forgotten amid the reality.
The Racial War. And the first participation blessing.
All humanity's warriors, including him, had received the system's protection during the scenario, temporarily boosting levels by +30.
But the war was over.
With the blessing ended, his level would revert.
-30 levels.
The problem was how much had changed in between.
He had become humanity's leader, gathered faiths from countless races to forge new divinity.
His once-small vessel now held power to shake the entire Abyss.
If that vessel reverted to near-breaking point?
'The accumulated faith and divinity could shatter my body.'
His achievements turning into poison that destroyed him—the worst scenario.
Zero had pierced that danger and offered the solution.
The Dragon God's heart.
Absorbing it would temporarily reinforce his vessel, enduring the backlash.
Park Chan-woo quietly accepted the heart from Zero.
It was warm.
The pulse of unfamiliar life pulsed through his palm.
He didn't hesitate.
Pressing it to his chest, the golden heart melted into him like water soaking in.
Whoosh—
Hot dragon blood surged through his veins.
His precarious divinity finally stabilized within the firm frame of the Dragon God's essence.
He looked at Zero.
No thanks were spoken.
Between them, such sentiment was unnecessary.
Zero merely shrugged once.
As the light faded and familiar air brushed his nose...
Park Chan-woo and humanity's warriors realized they stood once more above the skies of Earth, South Korea.
And they lost their words at the sight before them.
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
Cheers that blanketed the sky.
Below their feet, Seoul's heart overflowed with a sea of people.
Hundreds of millions from every nation, race, and tongue had gathered in South Korea just to see them.
From Gwanghwamun Square to distant Namsan Tower, packed crowds waved placards, shouting their names until hoarse.
[Humanity's Savior, Park Chan-woo!]
[Welcome Back, God!]
[Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo! You are our hero!]
Amid fervent cheers, they returned in triumph.
Under the Abyss Safety Bureau's escort, they paraded, responding to the citizens' roars.
Park Chan-woo felt the weight of that blind faith pouring toward him, staring silently out the window.
Thus passed a stormy week.
The world had changed.
Humanity was the Racial War's sole victor, and Park Chan-woo was revered as the god who established new order in the Abyss.
Earth was no longer a fringe weak planet.
It had become the Abyss's new center, a holy land where a god resided.
Turning down floods of interview requests and summit invitations from world leaders...
Park Chan-woo secluded himself in the Dragon God Temple, away from the clamor.
Sitting on the throne, he pondered the dragon race's future.
That was when it happened.
"...Prophet."
A familiar voice.
Park Chan-woo looked up.
Lee Hyuk-soo stood at the Dragon God Temple's entrance.
The first time seeing him since becoming a war hero.
"Come in."
At Park Chan-woo's permission, Lee Hyuk-soo entered cautiously.
He stopped before the enthroned Park Chan-woo, hesitating long.
Finally, with great difficulty, he spoke.
"...My mother."
His voice trembled faintly.
"My mother wishes to see you, Prophet."
Lee Hyuk-soo bowed his head.
"If it's alright... would you come to our home and join us for dinner?"