Chapter 329: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Opium & Dracaena
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 329: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Opium & Dracaena
Centaurs, Sirens, Manticores, Vampires.
Countless tales of such magic beasts have been passed down through the ages. Adults frightened their children with these stories to keep them from wandering into dangerous places.
Adventurers chased these legends, dreaming of glory. After all, the mightier the foe, the greater the fame of its vanquisher.
The Kingdom of Heaven did little to stop these tales from spreading. From their perspective, it was a good thing for humans to fear and shun ‘magic beasts’.
But even without the Kingdom of Heaven's intervention, there was one magic beast whose existence was dismissed as pure fantasy.
A beast so colossal it could devour a grown man like a snack, possessing mana that no archmage could ever hope to match, capable of annihilating a city with a single breath—people dismissed the existence of such a creature as utter nonsense.
Countless scholars, dilettantes, and self-proclaimed sages throughout history had all declared in unison: ‘If such a creature truly existed, humanity could never have survived this long.’
Such was the nature of dragons.
A species so surreal that merely stating the facts about them was enough to brand someone a liar.
And at this very moment.
The one known as the strongest dragon in all of history was soaring leisurely through the night sky.
《────.》
Dracaena looked down upon the land.
Gazing upon the world for the first time in a millennium, he found it hadn't changed as much as he'd expected. The forests were lush, the lakes were serene, and the land teemed with life.
It was a land the people of the underground, living in their barren world, coveted and yearned for.
Frankly, to Dracaena's eyes, it was not a pleasant sight.
It seemed so fragile, as if it would crumble at the slightest touch.
It was akin to a person trying to live comfortably in a house made entirely of glass, from floor to ceiling.
He felt more at ease in the harsh, albeit desolate, environment of the underground than he ever could in such a fragile land.
And yet…
Despite these thoughts, Dracaena had once fought to claim this very land.
For he was aloof, but not alone.
He was arrogant, but he knew how to bear the weight of responsibility that came with it.
Even if it was something he himself had no need for, the desperate yearning of his kinsmen, who shed tears of blood for it, was motivation enough.
Thus, he fought, gifting vast lands to his kinsmen.
Even though the fight had ended in his death, and even though his actions were seen as nothing but ‘evil’ by those he invaded, Dracaena had never once regretted his deeds.
But even for someone like Dracaena, the current situation was deeply unpleasant.
With every light breath he exhaled, life on the surface vanished.
His mere passage through the air sent the flora and fauna quaking in fear.
When he fought under his king, none of this had mattered. The more he reigned as a calamity, the more he drew the enemy's hatred and hostility upon himself, the safer his weaker kinsmen became.
But now, at this moment.
There was no pride in the destruction he wrought.
There was no value in the fear he inspired.
There was no meaning to the calamity he caused.
To watch his own body move against his will was a humiliation so profound it was nauseating.
If not for this chain (the reversed scale) embedded in his neck, he would tear the very heavens asunder without a shred of hesitation.
It was then that the despondent dragon's senses detected ‘something’ flying toward him.
His golden eyes, which so many had feared to even meet, registered a knight flying straight toward him from the ground below.
The knight's form was far more worn and frail than the one Dracaena remembered.
The armor's luster was dull, its mana faint.
Though it seemed to have undergone some repairs, it was a far cry from the majestic presence that had once made the people of the underground tremble in fear.
With a single glance, Dracaena knew this was not the same knight who had defeated him in the past.
A weaker body, with a different occupant inside—normally, this knight would not have been worthy of his notice.
Regardless of Dracaena's inner thoughts, his body moved against his will, guided by the mask.
His massive body swam gracefully through the air as he swung his tail, attempting to swat the knight from the sky.
It was a swift strike, but the knight's response was swifter still.
Weaving on the back of his eagle, he dodged the attack, then turned the tables, piercing Dracaena's scales and slicing into his flesh.
Considering Dracaena's immense size, it was a trivial wound, but a wound nonetheless.
The moment the reversed scale, imbued with heavenly power, began to glow, immense mana gathered around Dracaena's body before erupting in all directions like laser beams.
Each beam of light held a devastating power that most mages could not achieve in a lifetime of training.
The crude undead mount, which looked like several bird corpses stitched together, melted away just from being grazed by the light.
But the knight, as if this was all within his expectations, nonchalantly mounted a new bird.
It was then that the eyes of the dragon and the knight met for the first time.
Only then did Dracaena realize the strange emotion held within the knight's gaze.
It was not the fear or adoration so many others had shown him.
Nor was it the burning resolve and sense of duty he had seen in the eyes of the knight who had once defeated him.
Absurdly enough.
The knight's eyes were filled with a competitive spirit and joy.
Creeak.
The very air around Dracaena's body began to scream.
*
Dorothea opened her eyes to an impenetrable darkness.
Taking in the scenery—a black, shadowy void in every direction, from the sky above to the ground below—she grabbed one of her own fingers and bent it back.
When she felt no pain, even as her fingernail touched the back of her hand, Dorothea pulled out a dagger without hesitation and plunged it into her own neck.
Or rather, she tried to.
“Wow, you're a bit too quick on the uptake, don't you think? You're supposed to hesitate, say things like, ‘Where am I?’ or ‘What's happening to me?’ Maybe wander aimlessly through the darkness for a bit. It's all about the aesthetic, you know.”
As the chatty, excited voice spoke, a hand reached out from behind and grabbed her wrist.
As if she'd been waiting for it, Dorothea spun around and fired a curse from her hand, but her opponent dodged it with a light, tinkling laugh.
Dorothea scowled as she got a look at her foe.
A boy with black hair, dressed in old, dirty clothes and a beret, stood before her.
The boy, Tip, spoke.
“Hello, Dorothy. Long time no see.”
“Don't be ridiculous.”
Dorothea spoke for the first time since entering this space.
“You're one of the eight generals.”
“What are you talking about, Dorothy? I'm Tip, remember?”
“There's no way Tip would still look like that. Besides, your personality, your speech, your expressions... they're all wrong.”
“Hmm. I guess that won't fly. Well then, how about this?”
A smile touched ‘Tip's’ lips, and in the next instant, his form shifted into that of Adelaide.
The beautiful girl with golden hair and violet eyes gave Dorothea a mischievous grin.
“Does this form suit you better, my dear witch—whoa!”
After dodging the curse bullet aimed at her face, the unidentified entity changed form once again.
Dorothea resolved to fight to the death if it dared to mimic another of her acquaintances, but fortunately, the new form was not anyone she recognized.
It was the form of a beautiful woman, her body exuding a sultry charm, dressed in subtly revealing attire.
Despite her appearance, she complained in a strangely childish tone.
“Let's not resort to violence, shall we? Why don't we talk? You know you have no chance of winning as things stand, don't you?”
“...”
Dorothea remained silent.
She had tried to wake up the moment she realized she'd been dragged into a dream, a world of the mind, but her opponent was not so accommodating.
Her sharp dagger had turned into a loaf of soft bread, and the catalysts in her pouch, like bone powder, had been replaced with flour and candy.
It was proof that this entire space was under her opponent's control.
If this was anything like what Sophia had experienced, she would need someone to intervene from the outside to wake her. But there had been no one around when she fell asleep. It was, for all intents and purposes, a checkmate.
“...What do you want?”
“Wow, your expression, tone, and attitude are just screaming 'reluctance.' Still, I'll give you credit for not screaming like an idiot or attacking blindly. I'm not a fan of dragging things out, either.”
Having said that, the member of the eight generals in the guise of a seamstress—the succubus, Opium—spoke.
“My goal is simple. I want to use you, his contractor, to get a glimpse into his past.”
Dorothea's expression turned peculiar. The topic was completely out of left field.
Opium chuckled at her reaction.
“Those heavenly fools seem to think they can control me and have me slaughter humans, but I have no intention of playing along. For one, the mask's power isn't very compatible with me. It might be able to control my physical body out there, but it can't touch me while I'm here, inside someone else's mind.”
So, she declared, she would use her remaining time as she pleased. She continued.
“Don't misunderstand. He is a different person from your ‘Tin Knight.’ However, traces of him remain within the Tin Knight's body. With my specialty in meddling with the mind, you as his contractor, and the game book that has resonated with the power of Tuberose so many times... it's possible to get at least an incomplete glimpse into the past.”
Dorothea crossed her arms.
“‘He’ must be the previous Tin Knight. Why do you want to see his memories? To find some kind of weakness?”
“Because I'm curious.”
“What?”
Ignoring Dorothea's bewilderment, Opium continued nonchalantly.
“He was the only human I ever failed to seduce, despite my best efforts. That's why I want to know about him. What he was thinking when he fought us. What end he met after our defeat. What was on his mind back then. Everything.”
Dorothea narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge Opium's sincerity, but the succubus's expression was brazenly confident.
“...And why should I help you?”
“Don't you want to escape?”
“There's no way ancient beings, nearly a thousand years old, can be resurrected so easily without a price. If I just hold out, you'll disappear eventually.”
“So calm, even in a situation like this. And smart, too. You remind me of the old queen.”
Hmm. Opium seemed to ponder for a moment before casually tossing out a proposal.
“If you play along, I'll let you partially interfere with the outside world. You won't be completely free, but you'll be able to use some magic.”
Dorothea didn't have to ask what that meant.
Seeing her reaction, Opium grinned.
“You really are quick. That's right. If you don't help, the Tin Knight can't win. Frankly, I doubt he can win even with your help, but at least he'll have a fighting chance. Dracaena is just that much of a monster.”
“So you'd help defeat your own comrade just to satisfy your curiosity?”
“That prideful dragon is probably disgusted by this whole situation. He'd likely welcome a proper fight. Of course, gleefully annihilating his opponent is also very much his style.”
Dorothea closed her eyes for a moment.
There was no guarantee she could trust this entity.
In fact, considering her own safety, it would be better to simply stall for time.
But.
“—Fine. I'll cooperate. Now hurry up and open that channel to the outside or whatever it is.”
Even if she remained safe, if the Tin Knight lost a fight he could have won because of her, Dorothea would consider it her own defeat.
As his master, his contractor, and his partner.
She would never be the one to hold him back.
Opium grinned and snapped her fingers.
A large, full-length mirror materialized before Dorothea, reflecting her own unconscious, collapsed form.
The sensation of seeing herself from a third-person perspective was momentarily disorienting.
“Touch the mirror and picture what you want to do. Your body will take care of the rest.”
As she followed the advice, her body outside the mirror moved like a sleepwalker, creating new chimera undead and sending them flying toward the Tin Knight.
After watching the Tin Knight use the undead she'd sent as mounts to battle the massive dragon, Dorothea turned her gaze to the beaming Opium.
Satisfied by Dorothea's sullen-yet-compliant expression, which showed no intention of backing out of their deal, Opium spread her arms wide.
And the world was inverted.