Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: The World After the Prologue (4)
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The moment he locked eyes with the skeletal dragon, Ye-myeong narrowed his eyes.
It was due to the intense mana emanating from the dragon's chest. His eyes burned as if he were facing a blast furnace up close.
He kept his gaze fixed on the skeletal dragon and asked Kim Mansu.
“…Vice Captain, what the hell is that thing?”
Kim Mansu, who had been trembling uncontrollably while staring at the dragon, finally snapped out of it.
Without even thinking to wipe away the cold sweat pouring down his face, he replied in a cautious voice.
“Kahal Magdu… An undead dragon allied with terrorists. Why is a monster that should be in South America here in Manchuria…?”
No sooner had Kim Mansu finished explaining than the dragon opened its mouth.
—Oh, you know my name? No one on this land knew me, but you're no ordinary mercenary.
Was it that surprising to hear his own name? The flames in the dragon's eye sockets curved gently like a crescent moon.
—I'd love to chat for a bit, but I avoid small talk on the job.
‘….’
—Sorry, but a mission is a mission. You two die here.
The skeletal dragon spoke as if consoling them, then wiggled its bony finger.
At that, countless footsteps began echoing from beyond the conifer forest. Ye-myeong frowned at the irregular, unnatural sounds.
Uuuuugh…
Soon, an enormous horde of zombies emerged from the forest's shadows.
“Shit…”
The moment he confirmed their faces, Kim Mansu spat out a curse.
Their attire was all too familiar. Military uniforms, combat gear, and even uniforms from other mercenary groups…
“North Manchuria is already… finished.”
Until they had encountered those freaks with rocket launchers, he had clung to a sliver of hope.
North Manchuria wouldn't fall to mere terrorists, after all.
But now, faced with undeniable proof, Kim Mansu squeezed his eyes shut, his expression one of utter despair.
“Vice Captain.”
Ye-myeong, who had been surveying the situation, cut through his lament. He continued while eyeing the approaching zombies.
“What will you do?”
Kim Mansu read the intent in that short question and bit his lip.
Fight or flee.
Neither option was easy. Against that massive skeletal dragon, he couldn't guarantee victory or escape.
“First… we run.”
The decision was swift, and their footsteps even swifter.
The two kicked off the ground almost simultaneously and bolted in the opposite direction from the dragon. The zombies dragged their broken bodies in pursuit, but they couldn't match the superhumans' pace.
—Fleeing mid-operation? Very mercenary-like.
The dragon moved its bony legs to chase them. Its strides were leisurely, as if it were out for a casual stroll.
Thud, thud, thud!
The massive footsteps trailing behind gradually faded, but Ye-myeong couldn't relax.
Something felt off—a growing sense of foreboding.
…What is it?
The moment he furrowed his brow, he sensed movement ahead.
Judging by the sluggish footsteps, it had to be a zombie. Were they already surrounded? Ye-myeong reflexively turned. Or tried to.
Before him, Kim Mansu halted first. The two stared with grim expressions at the zombies encircling them ahead.
“…Fuck.”
There stood Team 3 of the Seonjuk Mercenaries, slain in the previous skirmish.
“You fucking bastard…!”
Seeing his comrades turned to zombies, Kim Mansu clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
At that moment, the dragon's leisurely voice echoed from afar.
—You mercenaries should understand. For a mission, only success matters. No one leaves North Manchuria alive today.
Ye-myeong glanced back to see the dragon curling its finger into a circle, aiming at the two of them.
Thumb hooked over middle finger—like a human about to flick someone.
Snap.
The dragon flicked its finger. Something launched from its hand hurtled toward them at tremendous speed.
Clang!
Ye-myeong swung his sword to deflect it once more. But this time, it wasn't a bullet.
Where their gazes fell, the object on the ground was a dog tag.
A bloody dog tag that would have belonged to a North Manchurian soldier or mercenary.
“…Vicious bastard.”
For a mountain of a creature to carry something like that. It wasn't treasure—it was purely for provocation.
Seeing their hardened expressions, the dragon burst into booming laughter. Kim Mansu ground his teeth, glaring at it.
“Newbie, you run.”
“…What about you, Vice Captain?”
“I'll buy time. You're faster than me—get this news to the Manchuria base, whatever it takes.”
Manchuria base? Ye-myeong eyed the resolute Kim Mansu thoughtfully. Surely he hadn't noticed?
He leaned close to Kim Mansu's ear and whispered softly.
“Senior Tianlin isn't among the zombies. Looks like he got away.”
“What?”
“If the dragon finds out, it might track him down, so that's all on that. And…”
Ye-myeong gripped his sword and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Kim Mansu. The zombies' footsteps grew ever closer.
“I'll fight alongside you.”
“…You running would be better.”
“We're already surrounded. Splitting our strength just gets us picked off one by one.”
“We might die together.”
Even as he said it, Kim Mansu chambered a round in his rifle. He had no intention of stopping him further.
Ye-myeong glanced alternately at the skeletal dragon and the zombies, then spoke.
“Vice Captain, I have a plan.”
“…A plan? In this situation?”
It felt like a strange déjà vu. Kim Mansu turned slightly to check Ye-myeong's face.
“A simple one. While I take down the dragon, you handle the zombies.”
“…That's it?”
“Yes. And if possible… try not to die.”
A wry smile cracked Kim Mansu's rigid expression. He gripped his rifle and nodded.
“Fine. Let's try it— no, we will.”
The moment he steeled his resolve, Ye-myeong kicked off the ground.
Zombies lunged at him, but Ye-myeong had already channeled mana into his calves and leaped skyward.
He stepped on empty air. More precisely, he kicked off a conifer trunk to climb higher.
Reaching the treetop, he matched the dragon's eye level. The eerie blue eyes blazing in its sockets met Ye-myeong's golden ones.
***
—Oh? You're going to fight back?
The undead dragon, Kahal Magdu, marveled in a voice laced equally with surprise and delight.
—Splendid. The courage of the weak deserves praise.
No more words were needed.
Ye-myeong launching from the treetop toward the dragon and the dragon swinging its hand to summon mana happened almost simultaneously.
The dragon's overwhelming mana arrayed itself, and the surrounding mana obeyed, forming razor-sharp ice spears.
A basic attack spell humans called ice shards.
But the dragon's ice spears were fundamentally different from any human's.
In size, strength, and number.
Crack!
The air froze as dozens of ice spears filled the space. The glittering ice under the night sky looked utterly menacing.
The next instant, the dragon twitched its finger, and all the ice spears surged toward Ye-myeong in unison.
A perfect encirclement, occupying every direction—up, down, left, right.
The moment he faced an unavoidable attack, Ye-myeong recalled the wolf monster from his entrance exam.
More precisely, how it had moved its body.
The monster had filled its heart with mana, squeezing its blood vessels to strengthen its flesh.
A horrific method that would kill any human just from imitating it, vomiting blood from every pore.
But Ye-myeong willingly mimicked it.
He trusted his regenerative ability. One that surpassed even superhumans should endure the monster's method.
The thought was brief. No hesitation.
‘…Blood Flow Acceleration.’
Ye-myeong poured mana into his heart, pumping it furiously.
The heart transcended its limits, spewing blood and mana as blood vessels throbbed on the verge of bursting.
From head to toe, aorta to capillaries.
Mana and oxygen flooded everywhere. The response was explosive.
His vision cleared, his body outpacing his senses. Then mana surged, and the entire world slowed.
In that split-second perception.
The trajectories of the dragon's ice spears stood out clearly. Ye-myeong swung his sword at the weakest points in their paths. A flash of white sword light blazed.
Craaack—!
The encirclement shattered where his sword struck.
A shard of cold ice grazed Ye-myeong's cheek.
Before it could even melt, he burst through the ice spears and reached directly above the dragon's head. Terrifying speed.
—How—?
Before the dragon could react, Ye-myeong slashed down toward its chest.
He unleashed Wave Yang Art during his descent.
Mana stirred in his core, flowing down through his waist, shoulder, elbow, and hand. His sword became a single crashing wave hurtling at the dragon.
Target: the dragon's heart, pulsing between its ribs.
The dragon belatedly twisted its body, thrusting a forepaw toward the sword. A desperate move to shield its chest with bone.
The next moment, sword met dragon.
Kagak!
No sensation of cleaving flesh. The feedback in his grip was heavy. Ye-myeong was flung back with his sword.
“Urk!”
Crashing to the ground, Ye-myeong rolled to recover his stance. As expected, his sword hadn't reached the heart.
At best, a few bone fragments chipped from the forepaw.
‘Cutting the bones… impossible.’
The density defied imagination. If it had flesh, he could aim for blood loss, but this was a bony undead. Heart it was.
Ye-myeong exhaled sharply and regripped his sword.
—Hahaha! Scratches on my bones! First time since those damned Yankee poachers!
Delighted for some reason, the dragon reared on its hind legs and swung its hand. Massive claws gouged a long scar where Ye-myeong had stood.
Conifers snapped, dirt flew. Ye-myeong barely escaped the range and summoned mana again.
Right after, he rolled under the dragon.
If above wouldn't work, he'd stab from below. Ghost Step elongated his form.
Thud! Thud!
The dragon slammed its hand down at the approaching Ye-myeong. Earth-shaking blows, but Ye-myeong had already accelerated to the dragon's snout.
But he couldn't thrust upward. An unexpected attack whipped his body.
Bang!
The dragon's tail. He barely raised his sword in time, but the immense impact sent him airborne.
Ye-myeong traced a parabolic arc like a tennis ball.
“Urk!”
The unblocked shock rippled through his muscles. Overstrained capillaries burst in unison.
Blood poured from his mouth and nose. But the real issue was his eyes' capillaries. His vision turned red.
—That's why you Earthlings think all other races fight with just two arms like you.
The dragon's mocking voice rang out as Ye-myeong plummeted.
‘Damn it.’
His body throbbed, but there was no time to rest. The dragon was preparing its next spell.
He used the momentum to spring back up.
Vision still blurry, but the rippling mana around him was vivid.
Zzzzap!!
Lightning this time. The sound of electricity tearing the air dizzied his ears. Unlike ice spears, impossible to deflect with a sword.
—Impressive, but still green. A few more years of ripening… and you'd have made a fine vessel. Such a pity.
Ye-myeong wiped the blood pooling at his eyes and stared at the lightning filling his view.
Could he dodge it all? No certainty.
But failing to dodge meant certain death. He spat the blood in his mouth and raised his sword.
—Your composure to the end is admirable. Now, time to—
Just as lightning and sword were about to clash, the dragon's and human's gazes turned toward the conifer forest beyond.
—What?
Something approached.
No mana, no presence… but a sound like exhaust grew louder, closing in.
…!
By the time Ye-myeong realized it was a real bike's roar, the source was already upon them.
Vrooooom!!
Right above Ye-myeong, the air split as a single bike burst into view.
A top-tier sports bike laden with grenades and homemade bombs.
Radiating a holy glow like a sacred relic, it hurtled toward the dragon.
An absurd scene by any measure. The dragon gawked dumbly at the arcing bike.
It snapped to only as the bike neared its chest.
—You mad—
KABOOOM!!
The moment the dragon reached for the bike, it detonated.
Blinding light engulfed the area first. Then a massive shockwave swept through, and finally, the dragon's scream filled the forest.
—GRRAAAAAHHH!!!
Ye-myeong reflexively raised his hand against the flying debris. Only after the shock eased did he turn toward the bike's origin.
Two assault rifles floating midair, gripped by a pair of slender hands.
The gunslinger who had said they'd never meet again.
* * *