Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Unscheduled Admission Test (5)
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“I’ll take the seal.”
[…Suddenly?]
The Dwarf King, who had been preparing another item, froze. He stared at Yeomyeong for a moment, then shrugged his thick eyebrows as if realizing something.
The subtle shift in his posture and gaze the instant he heard it could unbind the seal.
He tried to hide his expression, but… Yeomyeong couldn’t fool the sharp eyes honed by years of kingship.
[Ah, I see how it is.]
Dabal fiddled with the seal and smiled. Was it because the initiative in the deal had shifted to him? No, that wasn’t it.
It was a smile of relief.
He was relieved that Yeomyeong, faced with treasure, thought not of his own gain but of others.
‘Not a world-saving hero… but not a selfish bastard either.’
Dabal paused for a moment, then extended the seal toward Yeomyeong, who was watching him.
[Do you know there’s a secret to the magic tools made by Dwarf artisans?]
Yeomyeong’s head tilted sideways as he reached out. His eyes said, *What now?*
[The magic tools handcrafted by our bloodline artisans can’t unleash their full power unless passed down properly.]
“…First time hearing that.”
[Well, can’t blame you for not knowing. Modern ones just mass-produce junk—who has time for history and tradition?]
As he spoke, he raised his other arm. Once more, a familiar object flew in from the watchtower’s direction.
[Take the Uragan’s Hilt you used to move the seal, for example… It’s originally meant to purify all curses and malignant magic. But you probably just used it as a mana-conducting rod at best, right?]
What’s this now? Yeomyeong glanced back and forth between the Uragan’s Hilt and the Dwarf King before speaking.
“…If it’s the Uragan rod, I’ve been using it right.”
[What? No way.]
The Dwarf King’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.
He scanned Yeomyeong, seated on the stairs, from top to bottom, then gaped as realization dawned.
[Ah, you don’t mean…]
He trailed off, but Yeomyeong could easily guess the word after *surely*. Virgin.
[…Well, romance is a personal choice. I get it. I died without heirs myself.]
In a jovial tone, Dabal offered consolation that wasn’t quite consolation, then shrugged and added,
[Of course, I didn’t die a bachelor.]
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Yeomyeong replied with a deadpan expression, prompting the Dwarf to burst into hearty laughter.
[Anyway. If you don’t plan to stay a virgin forever, you need to receive this hilt properly. Same for the seal.]
“…Properly?”
[Get the creator’s approval, the previous user’s authentication. Or… receive recognition from the rightful king of the mountains.]
No sooner had he finished explaining than golden mana burst from the seal.
It couldn’t compare to the light of the dragon-drawn magic circle, but it filled the halted warehouse and then some.
Yet with each bright flash of the seal, the Dwarf King’s form grew even fainter.
Yeomyeong silently took in the sight.
He’d wondered how a dead soul could warp his senses… but seeing the seal’s light made it all clear.
Like the unicorn in the Uragan’s Hilt, the Dwarf King had bound his soul and mana to the seal.
But unlike the unicorn storing its soul in its horn-like body, only a dwindling mana held the king’s lingering thoughts to the seal.
When this spell ended and the seal’s mana depleted, the king’s soul… would vanish.
Realizing this, Yeomyeong found himself pitying the Dwarf King without meaning to.
Trapped in the seal for decades for the sake of that damn ‘fate,’ forced to watch his friend go mad beside him.
What fate could he have seen to endure that?
As Yeomyeong pondered, the prepared Dwarf King extended the seal.
[Yeomyeong, kneel… Hm, stairs make kneeling tricky. Just receive it standing.]
Facing the seal radiating brilliant golden light, Yeomyeong rose and carefully took it.
Cold metal met warm mana flowing up his hand. Yeomyeong quietly felt the seal’s mana.
After a brief moment, the king spoke again.
[I, Dabal Hillin, by the name of the rightful king of the Dragon Scale Mountains, bestow ownership of the golden seal upon Cheon Yeomyeong.]
In that instant, something within the seal linked to Yeomyeong’s mana. An indescribable, alien sensation.
[Furthermore, in place of the dead demon lord Uragan, I bestow ownership of the last weapon left by the Uragan bloodline.]
Last weapon? As Yeomyeong glanced up, Dabal smiled and placed the hilt atop the seal.
[You’ll have to find the body, head, and pommel yourself, excluding the hilt.]
“Other parts? But this weapon…”
[Incomplete. The workshop was bombed a day before assembly. A tragedy.]
Dabal spoke lightly, but Yeomyeong, knowing the history, held his tongue.
[Since fate brought the hilt to you… I entrust the rest to you as well.]
With that, the Dwarf King extended a finger and began drawing in the air.
What now? Yeomyeong pocketed the seal and hilt, watching silently.
The picture the Dwarf King painted in the air with mana as ink… was a map.
As detailed as any military chart.
The map, twinkling in blue mana light, pointed to an unfamiliar mountain range and somewhere deep within.
“…This is?”
[A map to the royal warehouse. Only accessible with the seal.]
Treasure map? Yeomyeong eyed the Dwarf suspiciously.
“Why show this to me?”
[Since you’re defying fate anyway, might as well defy it thoroughly.]
Before Yeomyeong could respond, the Dwarf King pushed the map toward him.
Whoosh—
The mana map dissolved like mist upon hitting Yeomyeong’s body.
No—precisely, the mana forming the map flowed into Yeomyeong’s mind.
[Ah, memory transfer after so long—it’s draining quite a bit of mana.]
As Yeomyeong sorted the sudden memory, Dabal spoke. Casual tone, but his form was even fainter than before.
Proof time was short. The Dwarf King gazed at his translucent hand and said,
[There, my task is done. Now it’s your turn. Save my poor friend…]
Yeomyeong, seal in hand, turned to gaze at the fallen dragon.
Orse Tabul. The dragon who’d personally severed its own wings, legs, and gouged its eyes.
Yeomyeong pondered briefly, then turned back to the Dwarf King with a question Dabal hadn’t expected.
“…No last words for your friend?”
More sentimental than expected. The Dwarf King beamed, uttering his final words.
***
The halted world began to move.
Precisely, Yeomyeong’s senses, trapped by the seal’s magic, returned to normal.
Bang!
The instant they did, Colonel Jeong’s bullet sliced through the air.
But Yeomyeong merely tilted his head slightly to dodge it.
The shooter himself, and even Darulma beside him, wore shocked expressions.
“Y-You crazy bastard! What if you’d hit the Saintess…!”
As Darulma belatedly grasped what happened and bellowed, Yeomyeong turned and leaped toward the watchtower.
Wave Yang Art infused in his steps.
Before the startled Colonel Jeong could raise his gun again, Yeomyeong stood before him.
Thwack!
Yeomyeong moved like lightning. He struck the colonel’s left arm holding the emergency bell remote, then grabbed and twisted the right wrist clutching the pistol.
Colonel Jeong lacked the strength or skill to resist the joint lock. His arm wrenched behind his back with a crack. He screamed.
“Aaagh!”
It happened in a blink. The soldier who’d turned at the gunshot, and even Darulma below, hadn’t fully seen Yeomyeong’s movements.
“L-Let go! You bastard! You think you’ll get away with—Gurk!”
Colonel Jeong ranted, but Yeomyeong reached out with his other hand and gripped the man’s throat.
Only then did the soldier in the watchtower draw his pistol and shout.
“W-What the hell are you doing!”
He was the one who’d brought the [Strictly Secured] box earlier. Yeomyeong fixed him with cold eyes and replied.
“Can’t you see? Subduing the lunatic trying to assassinate the Saintess.”
Assassinate the Saintess? Colonel Jeong thrashed in protest, but Yeomyeong tightened his grip.
The watching soldier’s face twisted.
*‘Assassinate the Saintess? Why would Colonel Jeong…?*’
Thoughts raced through his mind, but no rebuttal came.
He’d only seen the colonel fire downward from the watchtower, not at whom.
“If you’re not shooting, bring the box.”
As Colonel Jeong’s limp body sagged, Yeomyeong nodded toward the watchtower corner.
He indicated the [Strictly Secured] box the soldier had brought.
The soldier’s eyes darted between the box and Yeomyeong.
*‘Fight? Or obey?*’
The dilemma didn’t last. He didn’t want to die in this stupidity.
The soldier set down his pistol and picked up the box.
“…P-Please know my unit had nothing to do with this.”
His arms trembled violently as he placed the box. Yeomyeong could almost hear the gears turning in his head on how to escape this.
“Make your excuses to the Saintess, not me.”
Though she probably wouldn’t care.
Yeomyeong swallowed the afterthought and pulled the golden seal from the box.
“What the hell is going on… Yeomyeong? Why are you holding the seal?”
As Darulma belatedly climbed to the watchtower and spoke, Yeomyeong held the seal and gazed at the dragon.
*‘Best to rip off the iron horns while it’s hot.’*
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