The Strongest Dragon Roared (1)

“Kraaaaargh!”

The super-duper strong dragon let out a mighty roar.

The dragon was insanely freaking strong, making it the uncontested pinnacle of all living creatures.

“Aaargh! Damn it, run for your lives!”

It was not an opponent mere mortals could ever hope to contend with.

And thus, the Kingdom of Kellierton, where the Jusaek Magic Tower stood, was smashed to smithereens.

The End.

A dragon had appeared.

A genuine, living dragon, the kind spoken of only in ancient myth and legend.

Bathed in an enigmatic crimson aura, the colossal beast unfurled wings so vast they cast the entire central plaza into midday twilight.

“So they weren't just bedtime fairy tales after all. They're actually real.”

A chilling assumption flashed across my mind like cold lightning.

Don't tell me... it's some variety of demon beast?

If it was a mutant rift beast spawned from a dimensional fissure, Kellierton's grand opening would instantly become an end-of-service shutdown. Fortunately, a quick glance at the forum's conceptual feed confirmed the dragon wasn't a demonic anomaly.

This was a disaster of a wholly different magnitude.

Honor your promise, face me in a duel, and prove yourself.

To put it bluntly, an ancient mythical predator was thoroughly enraged and demanding an in-person, real-life brawl. And to top it off, the instigator behind this existential threat was one of my own Sub-Mods.

“No way... this is way out of line.”

The most alarming part was that sending out either of our Sub-Mods would end in catastrophe. If Soon-to-Die Vampire went out to brawl, Kellierton would serve as their ring and end up bifurcated into Kelli and Erton. If Full-Health Elf stepped out, she'd instantly become Low-Health Elf and end up scraped off the pavement as a chilled corpse. Worse still, if things escalated, the dragon might hold me accountable as the overarching administrator.

Before the crisis deteriorated further, I dropped a message into the staff chatroom.

“It wasn't me.”

“Ah.”

Soon-to-Die Vampire, who was sitting glued right against my shoulder, vigorously shook her head. Now that I thought about it, ever since she took up residence beside me, she had paid vastly more attention to my neck than to the gallery boards. It naturally ruled her out. Which meant the sole suspect remaining was...

Ominous premonitions truly never missed their mark.

It had all begun when rumors were circulating across the boards that Sub-Mods were being paid salaries.

The Sub-Mod application fever back then had reached astronomical proportions. Everyone and their grandmother scrambled to submit applications.

The dragon had been mixed into that very applicant pool.

“Wait, so that wasn't rage bait?”

I vaguely recalled seeing that application. I simply took it for low-effort troll post number 451,243, ignoring it and moving on. But unlike me, Full-Health Elf was not one to overlook such things.

The relentless dragon claims hadn't happened once or twice; they were an endless spam. Full-Health Elf had personally stepped in, laying down an outright ultimatum.

Naturally, being an actual dragon, the gallum felt thoroughly wronged. Yet living for thousands of years hadn't been in vain; the ancient reptile did not immediately lose its temper or lash out.

Calmly and reasonably, the dragon had acknowledged the possibility of a misunderstanding and explained itself. It had clearly believed that by speaking with profound sincerity, the Sub-Mod would see reason and grant recognition.

But whom was it speaking to?

This was the very Sub-Mod who waged bare-knuckle brawls against forum users every single day. Mistaking the majestic sovereign for an unhinged agitator, she had dropped the banhammer for ten days and booted it straight out the digital door.

Having heard the entire debacle, I typed a response with icy composure.

When she claimed the dragon started it, I had briefly entertained the possibility that the dragon was genuinely to blame. Yet pushed past its limit of indignation, the dragon had flown straight into Kellierton, perching atop the Magic Tower to stage a personal sit-in protest demanding the Sub-Mod show her face.

“It got completely tilted.”

“Hm?”

“Those beasts usually do nothing but sleep inside their lairs. It must have gotten monumentally tilted.”

The insult had been potent enough to drag a reclusive apex predator out into the mortal light. Observing Soon-to-Die Vampire marveling at the novelty, I felt the sheer weight of the impending catastrophe. Kellierton was presently teetering on the brink of being pulverized into powder.

“Haaah... this doesn't look like something I can easily fix...”

A tranquilizer dart wouldn't even dent a flying dragon's scales. And bringing out heavy modern weaponry felt wrong when the beast was genuinely the aggrieved victim. Though I had no clear idea how to pacify the creature, I had to contain the fallout.

“What kind of trash-tier handle is that...?”

Regardless, I decided to initiate contact first.

I initiated contact with the utmost caution. Naturally, I held little expectation that words would resolve the crisis instantly. If it had been infuriated enough to descend upon a human stronghold, who knew what worst-case scenario might unfold? I had even kept the contingency of having Soon-to-Die Vampire step in at the ready, but...

“Wait, what?”

The dragon was unexpectedly, remarkably well-disposed toward me.

The dragon gallum introduced herself as the Queen of Dragons.

Her name was Evruin Dien Felici. Dragons possessed no set biological sex at birth, adopting whichever gender matched their initial polymorph.

“What is that god-awful naming sense...?”

Honestly, the gibberish sentence handle had been better. In any case, dragons usually had a reputation for sheer arrogance, yet Felici demonstrated nothing of the sort. Or was this courtesy extended solely to me?

Felici seemed to have read the storybooks and translated fiction I had circulated on the marketplace. Was that why she yielded so graciously to my requests? As if her earlier destructive tantrum had been a mirage, she was now resting docilely before the Magic Tower, front talons tucked neatly against her chest.

She had unequivocally recognized me as a transcendent peer.

As per routine, I attempted to dispel the misunderstanding, but Felici refused to believe a single syllable.

Instead of clearing off, she had become thoroughly enamored with the community, showing zero intention of departing. She looked ready to establish permanent residence in Kellierton.

“Ugh, what an absolute headache...”

At the very least, a lethal fistfight with our Sub-Mod had been averted, but the undeniable fact remained that an ancient dragon was roosting squarely within Kellierton. One could hardly issue eviction orders to a dragon. If she got irritated and swiped a casual wing, Kellierton would atomize into airborne dust.

Starting with Queen Evelyn, who had assumed Kellierton's throne through my endorsement...

Every single gallum was trembling in sheer terror. All of them looked solely to me for a ruling. After lengthy contemplation, I opened my eyes.

“I've made up my mind.”

Though an idiotic, roleplaying elf Sub-Mod had initiated an unauthorized brawl with an ancient apex entity, some fractional thread of responsibility still fell upon my shoulders as the Head Mod. I proudly drafted an official callout notice addressed straight to the dragon occupying Kellierton Plaza!

Amidst collective cheers and lingering terror, Felici materialized within the thread. To which I promptly left a reply.

.

.

First: unconstrained by racial squabbles.

Second: possessing sheer, overwhelming physical violence to ban real-world trolls.

And finally: having a surplus of endless eons to loiter on the forum all day long.

“She's literally born to wear the moderator armband!”

Felici seemed undeniably suited to become our third Sub-Mod.

Mmm?

She had merely indulged in a brief nap.

Yet when she opened her eyes once more, her home had vanished ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without a trace.

“Kyehhhk!”

“Kyik!”

Awakening from thousands of years of slumber, what first greeted her vision was not her warm, magnificent lair, but a wretched rabble of goblins binding her limbs to harvest her ambient mana.

Poke. Poke.

How utterly absurd.

To compound the insult, the goblins had lost all mortal fear, jabbing crude spears into her impenetrable scales. Felici had instantly annihilated every demonic beast across the region, taking to the heavens to survey the expanse. What met her gaze was an entire world laid to ruin by the Great War.

The mortal world has collapsed.

Radiant civilizations had crumbled away, leaving only shattered debris, ash, and rotting corpses. And the only thing remaining to greet her was a surreal anomaly unknown even to dragonkind: the 'Otherworld Destruction Gallery'.

With neither old acquaintances nor fellow dragons surviving, it was inevitable that Felici became enchanted with the forum.

Fascinating.

Every minute, every second, an endless cascade of threads emerged. Unfiltered, captivating narratives that tossed aside stifling formalities and archaic honorifics. Even to a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of eras, the gallery was nothing short of a cradle of pure, unadulterated amusement. And above all else, the celestial delicacies purchasable from the marketplace for mere pocket change.

Just who is the master of this gallery?

An entity capable of uniting all disparate survivors from the brink of apocalypse, delivering artifacts beyond imagination at dirt-cheap prices. Naturally, her curiosity toward the community's ruler—the Head Mod—had surged to unprecedented heights.

Oh?

And right then, the supreme administrator of the gallery had personally offered her an appointment as a lower-ranking administrator.

Hmph. Inviting me to serve beneath you, are you?

Her pupils slit into fine vertical lines as keen intrigue flashed within her jewel-like crimson eyes. Without hesitation, Felici condensed her colossal draconic frame, shrinking down into the slender silhouette of a mortal woman.

“Very well. I was growing quite bored in any case.”

Her voice was intoxicating, regal, and effortlessly seductive.

For the first time across her vast existence, Felici, Queen of Dragons, chose to walk beneath the banner of another.