Chapter 228: Interlude – A Brief Dream, The Last Dream

Yeomyeong found himself on a hard floor upon waking up.

He didn’t know for how long he had been asleep, but his head felt heavy, and his vision blurry.

As he rubbed his eyes and got to his feet, the familiar stench of household waste stung his nose.

As he regained his senses and looked around, he was greeted by an alleyway filled with stains, dust, and trash.

This place was familiar to him. How could he ever forget it? The back alley of Incheon’s entertainment district, which he cleaned every day.

…Is this a dream?

Maybe it was because he had seen Stalin before he lost consciousness, or maybe he had just grown used to dreams like this. However, he didn’t feel any particular emotion.

Dusting himself off without much thought, Yeomyeong walked out of the alley.

The sight of karaoke bars, clubs, and pubs lined up along the street of the entertainment district of Incheon was exactly as he remembered.

Of course, there were no neon signs or crowds of people.

Was it because it was a dream? No, it was simply because Yeomyeong was more familiar with this scenery.

In the dawn air, when the entertainment district slept, and the rest of the city began to wake…

The passion that once heated up the night, the alcohol glasses mixed with dreams and regrets—was nothing more than trash by this time, laid bare beneath the dew. This was the time for janitors.

Well, to be honest, it was simply because cleaning during hours when the citizens could see them meant dealing with vicious complaints and unnecessary quarrels.

Having thought this far, Yeomyeong let out a bitter laugh and walked away from the entertainment district toward a familiar place.

And perhaps because this dream was more detailed than expected, it wasn’t hard for him to arrive at the billiard hall he used to visit with his older friends.

The billiard hall at dawn, with no owner and no customers.

Yeomyeong simply stared at the empty hall for a moment before setting up the balls on the table and grabbing a cue stick for no particular reason.

And as he bent over the table and aimed at the ball—

“Are you playing alone?”

A familiar voice stopped him. Still in position, Yeomyeong turned his head slightly and looked at the girl stepping inside through the billiard hall door.

“…Miridith.”

“You should call me Soe Miri.”

“I’ve already told you before—where in the world does the surname ‘Soe’ exist?”

“If you could use the name ‘Dung Beetle,’ why can’t I?”

“…”

Unable to think of a retort, Yeomyeong straightened his posture. Soe Miri chuckled, grabbed a cue stick from the wall, and stood across from him.

With the billiard table between them, Yeomyeong spoke.

“Three-ball? Four-ball?”

While he spoke about the billiard game types, Soe Miri rubbed chalk on the tip of her cue and answered.

“I only know how to play pocket ball.”

“…Then I’ll have to reset the table.”

Unlike three-ball and four-ball, pocket ball was a game that required a different number of balls in play from the start.

So without another word, Yeomyeong gathered the balls in his arms and rearranged them on the table carefully. And as he worked, Soe Miri leaned against the table, watching him before finally asking.

“We were supposed to meet properly in your dream today. So, why did you fall asleep so early?”

“…I didn’t fall asleep. I passed out.”

Yeomyeong replied as he neatly placed all fifteen billiard balls into the triangular rack. Soe Miri tilted her head in curiosity.

“You fainted? What happened?”

“A Soviet artificial Holy Relic drained all my mana.”

An artificial Holy Relic? Before Soe Miri could ask more questions, Yeomyeong, having finished setting up, interrupted her.

“You take the break shot.”

“…Huh?”

Soe Miri’s eyes narrowed at his suggestion to go first. The break shot was usually yielded to the weaker player.

“Wow, aren’t you underestimating me a bit too much?”

“This is not even a betting game, so what’s there to underestimate?”

“Then do you want to go first?”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“…”

Soe Miri gave Yeomyeong a look of disbelief but took the first shot obediently.

She aimed the cue, bent her waist, and pulled her hips back, a textbook stance.

Crack! Watching the balls scatter with the perfect break shot, Yeomyeong spoke.

“Soe Miri, are you… a fake created by my subconscious? Or are you the real Soe Miri?”

“Which one would you prefer it to be?”

“If I could choose, I’d prefer if you were a fake.”

“Why? Because I’m better than you thought? Or… because you beat me until I bled?”

“…”

A brief silence ensued.

Soe Miri chuckled softly and took her next shot. Crack! The 3-ball rolled into the side pocket smoothly, and Yeomyeong’s brow furrowed slightly.

…She was definitely not a beginner.

As he crossed his arms while thinking so, Soe Miri continued speaking while aiming for the next ball.

“As you probably know already, elves have the ability to connect their dreams through the World Tree. Back then, my dream connected to a human for the first time in my life.”

“…How?”

“Simply put, the World Tree’s crystal chose you, right? That means the Soe Miri you beat up was the real me.”

“…”

As a short sigh escaped his lips, the memory of that time flashed through Yeomyeong’s mind—the moment when he beat up the Killing Aura disguised as Soe Miri, finding enlightenment between vengeance and cold rationality.

However, it turned out that it wasn’t just a disguise, but Soe Miri herself, encroached by Killing Aura.

Recalling that time briefly, Yeomyeong proposed a hypothesis as to why and how Soe Miri was possessed by the Killing Aura.

“Were you devoured by my Killing Aura? Or… like the World Tree’s crystal, did you see my memories?”

Soe Miri nodded twice and took her next shot. It meant the latter. Watching the 9-ball roll into the side pocket, Yeomyeong asked again.

“How much did you see?”

Did she find out about Mignium? However, contrary to his worries, Soe Miri answered lightly.

“I saw most of your memories from your time as a janitor, enough to sympathize with your desire for revenge.”

“…”

“And as for the rest… I couldn’t really see much. Too much was obscured… especially your memories from before you became a janitor. They were completely hidden by the shadows.”

Hearing this explanation, Yeomyeong’s thoughts became even more tangled. And in the brief silence, Soe Miri continued to shoot.

Crack, crack, crack! Her pool skills were better than he expected.

Fortunately for him, they weren’t playing a betting game. Just as Yeomyeong had that thought, she asked again.

“Are you upset? That I peeked into your memories without permission?”

Yeomyeong simply shrugged. Since she hadn’t seen any of his memories related to Mignium, there wasn’t much to worry about.

“Well… what’s done is done. I can’t really beat you up again.”

“…”

“Besides, I’m used to people peeking on me secretly.”

“…Huh?”

Perhaps Yeomyeong’s answer was somewhat unexpected, as her cue stick wavered.

Soe Miri alternated her gaze between the aimlessly wandering pool ball on the table and Yeomyeong, before setting down her cue and spoke.

“…You’re used to it? What does that mean?”

“That’s a man’s secret.”

“…”

Yeomyeong brushed off the question lightly. It was better for her not to know about Mignium or the Saintess’ Foresight.

And as if to make up for it—though it wasn’t exactly compensation—Crack! He could finally show off his pool skills. The skills he had honed during his time with his janitor brothers were no less impressive than Soe Miri’s.

The 4-ball, the 5-ball, the 11-ball…

Yeomyeong sank ball after ball with a flawless stance, leaving only the 8-ball, and then turned to Soe Miri.

“So, did you manipulate my dream just to discuss this?”

“…Manipulate your dream?”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course not. I wish I had that ability, but… unfortunately, I am only able to connect dreams.”

Before Yeomyeong could ask what this dream was, Soe Miri explained first.

“Last time, and even this time… I am only able to reveal myself like this when you enter your subconscious on your own. Simply put, I can only meet you in a state of trance.”

“…A trance? But I haven’t reached any major realizations lately.”

Even when he had learned the method of replacing True Intention from Demerond, or when he mastered Volcanic Tempest, Yeomyeong hadn’t fallen into a trance.

Both techniques weren’t something Yeomyeong could master easily, even with all his talent.

He was still unable to grasp how to summarize his life in a single line, and he could only scratch the surface of the True Intention behind Volcanic Tempest.

However, Soe Miri shook her head.

“No. I’m not talking about martial arts this time. Your magic talent, that is—”

However, at that very moment, the entire billiard hall turned dark. Yeomyeong realized something massive was blocking the window, and as he set down his cue, a familiar voice echoed loudly throughout the billiard hall.

-Your preamble is too long, pointy-ears.

The owner of the voice swung its forelimb toward the billiard hall building.

Crash! The concrete wall shattered as if hit by a cannonball as dust and debris flew everywhere.

Since this was a dream, Yeomyeong wasn’t hurt, but the pool table, with only the last shot remaining, was flipped over.

“…”

And that felt a bit disappointing. After staring at the overturned pool table briefly, Yeomyeong looked up at the collapsed ceiling.

There, staring down at him and Soe Miri, was a giant dragon. A white dragon with pearl-like scales shimmering brightly—a creature he had never seen before.

However, Yeomyeong immediately recognized who the dragon was.

After all, there couldn’t possibly be another dragon with that arrogant gaze and crown-like horns in the world.

“…Kahal Magdu.”

Perhaps it was because he had already seen Mara trapped in his subconscious, Yeomyeong wasn’t particularly flustered despite the unexpected encounter.

“You look better with your scales. It seems you were quite shiny back when you were alive, huh?”

In fact, he even felt relaxed enough to crack a joke. Kahal Magdu snorted at Yeomyeong’s remark.

– Mocking the dead, are you? Now I see that you have the talent to become a fine necromancer.

“…What?”

“…”

With that, the white dragon, Kahal Magdu, swung its tail at the billiard hall as if telling him to get out.

Crash!

As the entire building shook, Yeomyeong turned to Soe Miri with an expression asking if it was okay to just leave like this.

She waved her hand dismissively, urging him to go ahead.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t the first waiting in line first, but that dragon. Oh, and the next time we meet, let’s play a betting game of pool.”

“Betting pool?”

“The loser tells the winner a secret. Sounds good, right?”

Yeomyeong tilted his head.

“But I don’t really have anything I’m curious about, though…?”

“…Do you even know how precious a woman’s secrets are? Whatever, just go already.”

Seeing Soe Miri pout, Yeomyeong chuckled before jumping out of the collapsed billiard hall wall. Maybe because it was a dream, there was a lack of tension.

However, the sight of Kahal Magdu staring down at him from above was enough to make him feel tense up despite the lack of urgency.

The shimmering white scales, the massive body blocking the light of the dawn, and the wings covered by a silky, glowing membrane.

Compared to when it was just a skeleton, it was literally as beautiful as a statue. Perhaps it was worshipped for its appearance alone when it was alive?

Having his thoughts read, Yeomyeong raised an eyebrow, as Kahal Magdu added.

– It’s obvious what humans think whenever they see me. Especially Earthians.

Leaving Yeomyeong, who had nothing to say, Kahal Magdu began crossing the Incheon entertainment district on all fours.

The buildings in his dream crumbled and collapsed under its massive body, but it didn’t care—in fact, it even seemed to enjoy it a little—as it continued to move forward.

How long had they walked for? By the time they left the city center and stepped onto the highway, Kahal Magdu finally spoke.

– Have you consumed my heart yet?

Yeomyeong shook his head.

Of course, there was a reason he hadn’t consumed the dragon’s heart.

He had consumed the World Tree crystal back in Dreitherial.

Elixirs naturally took time to digest, and the mana from the crystal he had eaten back then was still scattered throughout his body, undigested.

And if he consumed the dragon’s heart as well, raw no less, when he was yet to even fully digested the remaining World Tree crystal?

That would be no different from force-feeding himself. And his body definitely wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Whether or not it knew this, Kahal Magdu continued.

– If it’s hard to eat, you can also turn it into a magic item. There are countless ways to utilize a dragon’s heart. A staff, a wand, jewelry… Though, eating it and creating a second heart would be the best option. That way, both your heart and stomach would be able to emit mana.

Hearing its cold words, making it hard to believe that it was talking about its own heart, Yeomyeong felt a bit unnerved.

Were all necromancers like this?

However, Regardless of Yeomyeong’s thoughts, Kahal Magdu continued walking and spoke.

“…”

What kind of nonsense was it spouting about now? Yeomyeong’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden and random question.

“Both Soe Miri and you… What exactly is it that I have realized?”

– Black Magic that uses twisted mana and necromancy to control the dead.

A direct answer. Kahal Magdu gazed straight at Yeomyeong with reptilian slit pupils.

– From the moment you used corpse explosion back in Dreitherial, you became aware of twisted mana. And when you fought the key vassals of the King of the Undead on the train, you physically mastered that realization.

“…”

Yeomyeong stopped walking and looked up at the dragon. The dragon’s black eyes, gleaming like polished obsidian, met his golden pupils.

“Do you even know what will happen to me if I use twisted mana?”

“So you know this, and yet—”

Just as Yeomyeong was about to raise his voice, Kahal Magdu cut him off.

“…”

Yeomyeong couldn’t think of a rebuttal. A smile spread across the dragon’s maw.

With that, Kahal Magdu turned its head. Its gaze landed on a place… the location where Yeomyeong had committed his first murder, the corpse warehouse.

“…So, you’ve peered into my memories too.”

“…”

– Cheon Yeomyeong, let me give you a piece of advice. Do not taint your revenge with the name of morality.

Hearing that advice from a dragon who had slaughtered countless people and treated death like a mere toy, Yeomyeong flared up again.

“What? Are you telling me to become a monster like you?”

Kahal Magdu shook its head.

– Me? A monster? Earthian Cheon Yeomyeong, why am I a monster? Is it because I played with the dead? Or because I massacred you Earthians?

As it spoke, the dragon straightened its back. The morning light climbing over the ridge flowed down its upright body.

A glint, close to madness, gathered in the dragon’s gleaming eyes.

– And if I am a monster, then so are you. Earthian Cheon Yeomyeong, do not deny it, do not refute it. You are the same as me. The Rat Beastfolk you killed in Dreitherial—what value did their lives have? Also, what about the pig-headed Koreans?

“…”

Confronted with such sophistry, Yeomyeong frowned in disbelief.

“…What kind of bullshit sophistry is this?”

– Sophistry? No, this is conviction. A conviction for revenge.

The dragon tilted its head to meet Yeomyeong’s gaze. The two avengers, now close enough to hear each other’s breaths, locked eyes.

“…”

– And at the end of loss, there is always regret and pain. Earthian Cheon Yeomyeong, when will you come to regret it? After losing that wench, Seti? Or after losing the Saintess and the pointy-ears princess?

Yeomyeong glared at the dragon the moment it mentioned Seti’s name. And as if anticipating that reaction, the dragon simply smiled.

“…”

Yeomyeong suppressed the emotions surging up to his head. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, clenched his fists tightly, and then opened them once more.

“…If I were going to regret it, I wouldn’t have started in the first place. And I won’t fail. So… cut the talk about conviction or whatever. Loser.”

Was it satisfaction with Yeomyeong’s response? Or was it just provocation? Kahal Magdu chuckled and lifted its head once more.

The dawn in the dream was now at its back, casting a long shadow over Yeomyeong.

– But even a loser has their own sense of dignity. Earthian Cheon Yeomyeong, I will not beg you for mercy and freedom like that fool Mara. Instead…

“…Instead?”

– I’ll propose a deal.

This audacious giant lizard. Yeomyeong crossed his arms as if telling it to go on.

The dragon swung its hand through the air mid-sentence.

Following the elegant gesture, reminiscent of a conductor’s, twisted mana etched itself into the air, and behind it, a pale blue flame cascaded down.

Yeomyeong realized that this was the magic that had formed Kahal Magdu’s body—and at the same time, it was an immensely complex spell that only a dragon could create.

This bastard… could it be…?

“…”

– It will consume a great deal of mana, but a skeletal dragon is always useful. Personally, I recommend killing Orsay Tabul and commanding two skeletal dragons.

“…You crazy bastard.”

As Yeomyeong made a genuinely disgusted expression, Kahal Magdu burst into laughter. The creature no longer laughed like a dragon but almost like a human.

“…”

Kahal Magdu extended its hand, where the blue ghostly fire flickered. Yeomyeong stared at the massive hand, much larger than his own body, before sighing and asking.

“…What do you want in exchange?”

“…”

Kahal Magdu’s voice trailed off, its gaze turning distant.

Yeomyeong closed his mouth for a moment, then slowly placed his hand on the dragon’s claw.

As the eerie blue flames traveled up the dragon’s claw and into Yeomyeong, the dragon exhaled a breath of fire.

Fwoosh! The ghostly flames and the dragon’s breath mixed, enveloping Yeomyeong. At that moment, contact information and an extensive incantation were engraved into his mind.

A flame that resurrects the dead and burns the living. It was a spell that served as a bridge over the twisted line Yeomyeong had never dared to cross.

Yeomyeong willingly did so. Just as he had done for Mara, he opened the door of the dream’s cage.

Soon, the dragon’s soul, granted its freedom, began to fade beneath the dawn light.

As sunlight poured over the dragon’s body, holes formed throughout, and light seeped into them. It was as if the sun itself was pulling it into the sky.

By the time the dawn in the dream had become morning, Kahal Magdu spoke one last time.

Yeomyeong couldn’t ask what he meant. His consciousness was already waking from the dream.

As Kahal Magdu was released, and the dream’s sun shone upon Yeomyeong’s head, he awakened from the dream.