The Dragon God's True Form
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Then a heavy thud.
"Hmm. I can't quite understand why you're so angry."
Arriving in a barren wasteland empty of anything at all, Laktakalion tilted his head.
The moment that dragon Legion had been reduced to that state, the aura rolling off the man before him had shifted completely. Anyone could tell he was furious.
And yet Laktakalion still couldn't make sense of it.
Didn't Baek Do-ha hate dragons?
Depnius, once called the next Dragon Lord, had betrayed him. The other dragons had scurried into hiding rather than risk getting caught in the crossfire. Had Laktakalion been in Baek Do-ha's place, he would have despised the entire dragon race.
"I told you earlier, didn't I? Anyone who moves on my behalf is one of mine. And I don't take kindly to people touching what's mine."
"Ah. Now I'm starting to get a sense of what kind of man you are."
Laktakalion let out a short laugh and nodded.
"But listen. I came here to talk with you."
"Then you shouldn't have laid a hand on Legion."
"What was I supposed to do when no one would tell me anything?"
"That so? Then I guess I've got no choice but to beat you senseless either."
"This is ridiculous… We simply cannot communicate."
Laktakalion sighed, shook his head, and put force into his body.
He had allowed himself to be held by this mysterious giant hand only because he wanted a conversation. If talking was impossible, he would simply free himself.
He strained — and nothing happened.
"?"
Laktakalion's brow furrowed.
What? Why couldn't he break free?
Do-ha drifted in close, until he was right in front of Laktakalion's nose, a cold smile on his lips.
"What's wrong? Can't get out the way you expected? No idea how to escape, do you?"
In truth, the Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang holding the Dragon God was laced with a formation as well — a method Do-ha had only grasped late in his battle against the Demon God. Had he known it sooner, that fight might have gone very differently.
"If you don't know, then you take the hit."
"W-wait—!!"
A deep hum of power gathered.
Baek-bo Myeol-hwang Gong — Fourth Step: Geukma Noegwon.
Lightning crackled.
Do-ha threw a punch from a standing position, and a sonic boom erupted in the same instant.
Bone crunched. Flesh burst.
"Gyaaah!"
Something ruptured, and a scream tore from Laktakalion's throat. Had he been free to fly backward, he might at least have bled off some of the impact — but the damned giant hand held him fast, forcing him to absorb every ounce of the blow.
"I came here to talk! At this rate, you and I will never have a good relationship!"
"Good relationship? Don't make me laugh. I have zero interest in being on good terms with the likes of you."
Do-ha shifted his weight.
Baek-bo Myeol-hwang Gong — Second Step: Mujegak.
His leg snapped up in a perfect straight line, and his heel drove down into Laktakalion's skull.
"You dare…"
Bones groaned under the pressure.
Hmm. His raw strength really is absurdly high.
As the Dragon God's human form began to shift and swell, the Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang started to crack. It was a construct woven with a formation, and yet Laktakalion was shattering it through sheer brute force alone.
He's still stronger than me, no question.
Do-ha had felt it before — power on par with his own prime. Not identical, but close enough.
In terms of realm, roughly a fully matured Life-or-Death Realm.
Power surged. Do-ha's palm shot forward.
Hoepungjang.
He drove the Returning Wind Palm into the Dragon God's chest even as the transformation was still underway. Waiting politely for an opponent to finish changing forms was something only a fool would do — especially with a dragon. Once a dragon returned to its true body, it became more than three times stronger. More precisely, it simply unleashed the power it had always possessed. Polymorphing into human form cut that strength by roughly two-thirds.
So the time to deal damage was now — while Laktakalion was still defenseless mid-shift.
A grinding, crushing force slammed home.
"Guh—!"
Laktakalion's heart twisted violently for a split second, and he swallowed a mouthful of empty air. He had never felt his heart contort like that in his entire existence; the pain was utterly alien.
Then one of Laktakalion's arms ballooned to monstrous size and smashed into Do-ha.
So he can transform just an arm into his true form.
Do-ha crossed both arms to block and narrowed his eyes. Unlike other dragons, Laktakalion seemed capable of partial transformation. Had Do-ha failed to notice the change in time, that blow would have landed clean.
"Hoo… So the claim that you fought the Demon God wasn't a lie after all. To rattle me with only a handful of attacks…"
With a grinding of bone and scale, Laktakalion completed his return to true form and poured killing intent into the air.
"What kind of size is that…"
Seeing the Dragon God's true body, Do-ha let out a disbelieving laugh. Of every dragon he had ever laid eyes on, the Dragon God was by far the largest. His torso alone was roughly the size of a mountain.
"From this point on, I will face you properly as well."
Laktakalion vanished.
Do-ha snapped his guard to the left.
A thunderous impact rang out.
"Your reaction speed is impressive."
"You're one to talk. Moving that fast with a body that size."
Having blocked the Dragon God's strike, Do-ha immediately began drawing up his energy. A frame that enormous, paired with speed that defied all reason — if he surrendered the initiative now, he would be crushed without resistance.
A deep resonance built in his core. Frost began to seep from his body.
Bingbaek-singong — Sixth Form: Umujin.
A pale mist unfurled.
Laktakalion frowned as he watched Do-ha deploy the Ice Soul Divine Art. What had the man just done? He had felt a wave of cold and expected an attack, yet nothing seemed to have changed.
"Plotting some underhanded trick, are you?"
"Who knows?"
Do-ha shrugged — and six colossal arms began to take shape behind his back. The once-faint Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang now blazed with pure golden light, and since his ascent to the Life-or-Death Realm, intricate patterns and ornaments had bloomed across the arms as well.
At last, the Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang was complete.
"Those arms… The more I look at them, the more absurd that power seems."
Laktakalion's eyes twitched at the sight of the six giant limbs. He still remembered being caught in them moments ago. Where had this man learned such a bizarre technique?
"Hey. Before we fight, let me ask you one thing."
"You're asking now?"
"Why the hell did you come looking for me?"
"If you were curious, you should have asked before the fighting started."
"We're fighting either way, so just spit it out. Why did you come for me?"
"I was curious what kind of being you were."
"You track down your enemies just because you're curious?"
"Why do you assume I am your enemy?"
Laktakalion shot the question back. Why was this man defining him as an enemy? His path and Baek Do-ha's had nothing in common.
"Because you're attached to the Cult. Anyone who stands with the Cult is my enemy. No exceptions."
"I am not attached to the Cult. Nor am I helping Depnius."
"Then what?"
"I have a purpose, and I am using them for it."
"It never crossed your mind that the Cult is using you the same way?"
"If both sides have something to gain, they help each other. That is all."
"That's what people call joining hands."
Do-ha exhaled. For a moment, when Laktakalion claimed he wasn't with the Cult, Do-ha had allowed himself a flicker of hope — but it was just empty noise. Helping each other while insisting they weren't allied? That was the same nonsense as claiming to be full while starving.
"So… has it been long enough for you now?"
"What?"
"The reason you suddenly stopped fighting and started talking. You were stalling for time, weren't you?"
"Oh?"
Do-ha's eyes lit up. As expected of the progenitor of all dragons — Laktakalion had read his intent perfectly.
"Sharp. But you still haven't figured out why I was stalling, have you?"
"Obvious enough. You're waiting for that comrade of yours who vanished earlier with Legion—"
A heavy, grinding resistance seized Laktakalion's limbs.
"?"
He tried to move his legs, looked down at his own body, and frowned. What was this? Why did he feel so heavy? It was like trying to move underwater. Something unknown seemed to have packed itself into every joint.
"…What did you do?"
"Your body was so damn huge it took a while."
Do-ha's smile turned cold.
A few minutes earlier, the Umujin he had deployed was finally taking effect. The technique scattered cold qi into the air and froze an opponent's lungs from within. It was invisible, odorless, and silent. Once set, it froze the lungs and every organ in most living beings solid.
"Consider yourself lucky it only went this far. Your body was so massive it never reached your organs."
"You bastard—!"
Enraged at last, Laktakalion brought a colossal leg crashing down toward Do-ha's head — the motion of a giant crushing an ant. Except the thing he was trying to crush was no ant. It was the Absolute Being.
Do-ha thrust one leg out in a perfect line and stopped the Dragon God's descending limb cold.
"See? No strength in it."
The organs had been spared, but the joints and muscles had taken more than enough damage.
Do-ha grinned. A chill raced down Laktakalion's spine.
Power roared. Do-ha shoved the Dragon God's leg aside and launched himself skyward. Against opponents built on this kind of scale, there was nothing better.
As he soared, he cycled his energy. The six arms of the Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang flushed a deep crimson and began to radiate pure killing intent.
Baek-bo Myeol-hwang Gong — Thirteenth Step: Sura Baekpalta.
The original form of the Shura Hundred and Eight Strikes had been the fifth verse of the Ban-ya Geum-gang Shin-gong — the Yaksha Hundred and Eight Strikes. But where the Yaksha version carried the nature of Pama, the demon-subduing force, the Shura version was steeped in murderous will. The Yaksha technique had a fatal flaw: the moment it was filled with killing intent, its power collapsed. It had been built on the foundation of Pama, after all.
So Do-ha had forged something new — a Hundred and Eight Strikes saturated with pure killing intent.
"Do your best to block."
A catastrophic barrage exploded outward.
The six crimson arms of the Cheon-hyeon-geum-gang and Do-ha's own fists hammered Laktakalion's entire body at a frenzied pace.
"Krrgh!"
The Dragon God crossed both arms and tried to weather as much as he could, but with no strength left in his limbs, most of the blows got through. His frozen muscles wouldn't even let him move quickly enough to evade.
Impact after impact. Bone cracking. Impact after impact. Bone cracking again.
As the defense was gradually torn open and the strikes began to land clean, the sound of the blows changed. At last the Dragon God exhaled and played the final card he had been holding in reserve. His body was far from perfect, and he had meant to restrain himself — but against the monster standing in front of him, he had no choice.
"I was a fool. To face the God of War, I should have taken a form worthy of him from the start."
A colossal pillar of flame erupted from the Dragon God mid-defense. Do-ha sprang back at once.
What is that?
Do-ha tilted his head. The fire hadn't been cast as magic — it had simply poured out of Laktakalion's entire body.
Flames roared. Footsteps approached through the inferno.
"…Is that your real form?"
From within the towering blaze, a completely transformed Laktakalion walked forward. Gone was the elderly human polymorph. In its place stood something else entirely: crimson hair falling to his shoulders, a massive horn rising from his brow, and a tail nearly a meter long.
It was a form strikingly similar to the half-human, half-dragon beings Do-ha had seen before. The difference was that those earlier dragonkin had always looked somehow awkward and unnatural — while Laktakalion's appearance was seamless. Effortless. Right.
"Now I understand why every dragonkin I've ever seen looked so much the same."
They had all been following the mold of the origin standing before him — Laktakalion himself.