Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Unscheduled Admission Test (4)
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The moment she saw the gun barrel aimed at her, Yeomyeong let out a hollow laugh. A laugh born of sheer absurdity.
'Couldn't seal the deal, so now a shot in the back?'
Considering how this deal was little more than outright robbery on their end, this level of audacity was beyond belief.
'These guys and those guys...'
Yeomyeong raised her hands with a sigh. A pistol bullet? She could block it with her arm and regenerate afterward, no problem.
But no matter how long she waited, no bullet pierced her arm.
No, there wasn't even the sound of gunfire.
Feeling something off, Yeomyeong lowered her arm, and a bizarre sight entered her vision.
A world where everything had frozen.
Darulma carefully descending the stairs, the Saintess just turning her head, even the soldiers' footsteps as they stared this way.
Colonel Jeong's mad face, and the gun barrel spewing fire—they were all frozen in place.
"...What the hell is this?"
Perhaps because she'd encountered so many absurd things lately, Yeomyeong felt not shock, but a strange sense of déjà vu.
After rubbing her brow for a moment, she drew up mana to heighten her senses. Or tried to.
But the instant she pulled on her mana, the frozen Darulma suddenly opened his mouth.
[You don't even seem surprised. What's the point of my performance if there's no reaction?]
A soft dwarf voice, utterly unlike Darulma's.
"Darulma?"
When Yeomyeong turned her head, Darulma... no, whatever had taken over Darulma's body shrugged its shoulders.
[Do I look like the firstborn of the Dun family?]
Over Darulma's body, a translucent dwarf overlapped him. Dressed in luxurious robes, wearing a massive crown.
"...The Dwarf King."
[That's too short a title. The real one goes like this.]
No sooner had he spoken than the dwarf king's ghost... or ghost-like entity struck an exaggerated pose and began his self-introduction.
[I am the rightful king of the Dragonscale Mountains, descendant of heroes, rightful owner of Gal-Uragan, friend of dragons, ruler of unicorns and great moles, master of the great mountains, steward of the highways, father of all dwarves, blessed by the Five Gods, lord of stone, hammer of Redox, friend of the imperial emperor, mediator of the five councils, terror of orcs, supreme creator of gold, overseer of coinage, and holder of countless other titles...]
What the hell is this lunatic babbling about? Before Yeomyeong could raise an eyebrow at the thought, the dwarf added,
[...They call me Dabal Hillin. I'll specially permit you to call me Dabal.]
"...Cheon Yeomyeong. Just a human."
As Yeomyeong crossed her arms and replied, the dwarf king wagged a finger.
[Where'd you leave the Dragon Slayer title?]
"...Dragon Slayer? I've never killed a dragon."
Yeomyeong pointedly glanced at the red dragon lying behind her. Scars marked its legs and wings, but the dragon was still alive.
[Then call yourself the Dragon Feller. More titles are always better.]
What the hell is with this guy? Yeomyeong debated whether to kill the dwarf ghost.
She was holding back only because it might kill the innocent Darulma...
[Now that we've exchanged names, Dragon Feller Cheon Yeomyeong, shall we talk?]
No point refusing—he wouldn't listen anyway—so Yeomyeong plopped down on the watchtower stairs.
"Make it quick."
[That's going to be difficult.]
"..."
[Put yourself in my shoes. After decades of silence, how can I keep it short?]
Yeomyeong subtly gathered Panyang Art into her fist. Seeing the rippling mana, Dabal Hillin smirked and spoke.
[How much do you know about me?]
"...What others know. The last Dwarf King."
[The fool king shot down flying recklessly to Moscow?]
Yeomyeong didn't answer. Silent affirmation.
[And you'd have learned that my recklessness had political, realistic reasons. Right? To draw international attention, to force the Soviets to the table—that was the best way...]
The dwarf king sighed there.
[...That's the excuse for the history books. As history always is, the truth is a bit crueler and sadder.]
The truth hidden behind history—back in her cleanup days, she might have cared...
But now, it didn't matter. Yeomyeong shook her head.
"Not really interested."
[Is that so? What if it's about fate, not history?]
"If you're saying the Soviets were fated to fall..."
[No, no. Not that. The fate I mean is the same as what the World Tree Crystal told you.]
"...What?"
World Tree Crystal? The moment Yeomyeong showed interest, Dabal added,
[How much do you know about fate?]
"..."
[That face says you'll punch me if I go long. Fine. I'll keep it short.]
Ahem. The dwarf cleared his throat and said,
[This world has... an unchanging flow. For example, the World Tree Crystal you ate was supposed to go to the Demon Lord's hands.]
"Demon Lord?"
[You've already met them. Can't tell if man or woman, flies around the sky...]
Before the explanation finished, a face came to mind.
"...Pasun."
The one who flew through the sky using bizarre martial arts.
She knew nothing beyond being hired by the government, but no one fit the title Demon Lord better.
His personality, his greed... everything was more demon than human.
[Pasun, huh? A bit different from the name I knew... Anyway, you altered his fate.]
"...Eating the World Tree Crystal is fate-altering level?"
[If that was it, I wouldn't bother saying this. If fate had held... Pasun would have eaten Orse Tabul's heart and claimed the golden seal.]
Dragon heart and golden seal. Recalling what Pasun coveted, Yeomyeong frowned.
[But where are they now? Oh dear. The dragon lives, and the seal's stuck up there.]
Yeomyeong mulled the dwarf king's words. If she hadn't been in Manchuria?
Pasun would raid the mercenaries, take the World Tree Crystal from Darulma Dun, fight the dragon, and get the heart and seal.
Of course, pure speculation. It didn't match the grand "fate" the dwarf king invoked.
[You look skeptical. But I guarantee it—you changed fate. Not once, but three times. Don't ask how; I don't know either.]
The dwarf king laughed. A hollow, empty laugh.
[I... long believed fate unchangeable. So I sacrificed myself willingly. But to meet a fate-changer after death...]
"...So what do you want? Spit it out."
[Waiting for my request? You're used to being begged or tested. Seems the humans around won't leave you alone.]
Yeomyeong's lip twitched.
[I get it. The world doesn't leave the gifted alone.]
"...Please, just the point."
[If that's what you want... It's not much. Just save my friend.]
Friend? Yeomyeong followed the dwarf king's gaze. There lay the red dragon, bound in restraints.
[Orse Tabul. My friend. I told him no truths. Used him for my fate.]
"..."
[He... doesn't know that, feels guilty. Thinks my death's his fault, went mad.]
Unbidden, Yeomyeong recalled the dragon's roar. Lost vengeance against communists.
The Saintess and mercenaries felt fear facing it, but Yeomyeong was different. She felt...
Kinship.
"...Give me a good reason to save that dragon."
But sympathy for its vengeance didn't mean sacrificing resources for it.
[Didn't you just say you'd free my friend?]
"..."
[Ahem, joking. I knew your actions were obvious bluffing. Didn't expect the sudden gunshot.]
The dwarf king glanced at the frozen Colonel Jeong, stroked his translucent beard, and said,
[...Justice or profit. Which reason do you want?]
"Profit."
Yeomyeong answered without hesitation. Justice? Not her word.
But the dwarf king seemed to think differently.
[Surprising. You, who threw yourself to save Manchuria, pick profit over justice?]
Yeomyeong nearly explained it was for the Saintess's prophecy, Darulma's promised deal, and the dragon corpse—not justice.
But seeing the dwarf king's sly smile, she knew words were pointless.
It was true she'd helped the Saintess save Manchuria, and hadn't gotten proper reward yet.
"...Think what you want."
Gruffly, as Yeomyeong replied, the dwarf king chuckled, tapping his beard.
[Whatever your true heart, you said profit, so I'll match that.]
He extended a hand toward the watchtower. What now?
As Yeomyeong turned, something flew toward his hand from afar.
Thud. Like a magnet, it came to the king's hand—a massive seal radiating golden mana.
The golden seal.
The magic tool that nearly destroyed Manchuria, the dwarf relic Darulma Dun desperately sought.
[Worth more than a dragon corpse? Fits profit?]
The king offered the seal to Yeomyeong. She eyed it, then the dwarf king's face over Darulma's, and said,
"Not enough."
Sure, the seal was more valuable than a dragon corpse. A relic embodying a race's history and culture.
But Yeomyeong wanted practical, immediate power—not abstract value.
Compared to what dragon bones, scales, and heart could yield, the seal's power was... at best, digging tunnels.
If she waited decades like the dragon to erupt a volcano, unmatched, but she had neither time nor reason.
[Not enough? You know its power?]
"...Tunnel-digging magic?"
[You only know the simplest. Symbol of a king—think it's just that?]
On Earth, kingly symbols weren't that impressive.
As Yeomyeong thought that, the king hurled the seal at the dragon.
Precisely, at the restraints pinning it.
Click!
The instant the seal touched, the locks released.
In the frozen world, no visible change, but they'd snap off the dragon the moment time resumed.
[See? One power granted to the seal's master: unlocks all locks in existence.]
The king raised his hand, and the seal returned.
"Good power, I get it. But not really..."
[...Not really?]
"Useful to me."
[...]
"Anything else?"
[With enough mana, undoes seals and bindings too. Shame, no examples here.]
Unlocking seals and bindings. Modest for a king's symbol, but...
Yeomyeong had to take the seal.
The moment he mentioned bindings.
A girl in her mind, bound by them.
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