As soon as Yeomyeong met the skeletal dragon's gaze, he narrowed his eyes.

He could feel an intense mana emanating from within the dragon's chest, as if facing a furnace head-on, and it burned his vision.

Without taking his eyes off the dragon, he asked Kim Mansu, “Deputy Commander, what exactly is that thing?”

The trembling Kim Mansu snapped back to reality, unable to even think about wiping the cold sweat streaming down his face. With a careful voice, he responded.

“Cahal Magdu… an undead dragon allied with terrorists. But it’s supposed to be in South America. Why is it here in Manchuria…?”

Before Kim Mansu could finish, the dragon spoke.

—Oh, you know my name? No one in this land was supposed to know me, so you’re no ordinary mercenary, I see.

The dragon’s fiery eye sockets curved softly, almost like a crescent moon, as if amused by someone recognizing its name.

—I would love to chat, but... I prefer not to make small talk on the job.

Yeomyeong stayed silent.

—Regrettably, a mission is a mission. You must die here.

With a final, ominous statement, the skeletal dragon moved its bony fingers.

Suddenly, the sound of countless footsteps filled the air from beyond the coniferous forest. The irregular, unnatural sound made Yeomyeong’s brow furrow.

Groooan...

From the shadows of the forest emerged a horde of zombies.

“Damn it…” Kim Mansu cursed as soon as he recognized their attire. They wore military uniforms, combat gear, and even other mercenary corps’ uniforms.

“Looks like North Manchuria is already... gone.”

Until he encountered the rocket-launching monstrosities, he had held onto a faint hope. After all, North Manchuria wouldn’t fall so easily to a mere terrorist.

But now, faced with irrefutable proof, Kim Mansu closed his eyes tightly with a grim expression.

“Deputy Commander.”

Yeomyeong broke his contemplation. Staring at the approaching zombies, he continued.

“What are we going to do?”

Kim Mansu, reading the intent in Yeomyeong’s simple question, bit his lip.

To fight or to flee.

Neither choice was easy. Against that colossal dragon, neither victory nor escape was certain.

“For now... we run.”

His decision was quick, and their steps were quicker still.

The two of them simultaneously sprang from the ground, sprinting in the opposite direction from the dragon. The zombies, dragging their mangled bodies, followed, but they couldn’t keep up with the supers' speed.

—Fleeing mid-operation, huh? Very mercenary-like.

The dragon started moving its skeletal legs, leisurely pursuing them with a gait that seemed almost gentlemanly.

Thud, thud, thud!

The enormous footsteps grew distant, but Yeomyeong didn’t feel at ease.

Something felt wrong, a sense of foreboding growing stronger and stronger.

…What is this?

Just as he furrowed his brow, he sensed movement ahead. The sluggish steps unmistakably belonged to zombies. Had they been surrounded already? He reflexively turned to change direction—or at least, he tried to.

But before he could, Kim Mansu came to a halt. Both of them stood with grim expressions, staring at the zombies encircling them.

“Damn it.”

There, they found the three-member team from the Sunjuk Mercenary Corps, who had died in the previous engagement.

“You son of a bitch…”

Seeing his fallen comrades turned into zombies, Kim Mansu clenched his fists so tightly they turned white.

Then, from the distance, the dragon’s smug voice drifted over.

—As mercenaries, you should understand. The only thing that matters in a mission is success. No one will leave North Manchuria alive today.

When Yeomyeong glanced back, he saw the dragon curling its bony fingers into a circle, aiming at the two of them.

The position was akin to someone getting ready to flick their finger.

Flick—the dragon released something that hurtled toward them at an incredible speed.

Clang!

Yeomyeong swung his sword again, deflecting the projectile. But this time, it wasn’t a bullet.

The object that fell to the ground was a dog tag, stained with blood—belonging to a soldier or mercenary from North Manchuria.

“…How vile.”

A creature the size of a mountain carrying around something like that. It was no treasure, just an object of taunt.

As their faces hardened, the dragon laughed heartily, while Kim Mansu gritted his teeth, glaring at the monster.

“Rookie, you should run.”

“And what about you, Deputy Commander?”

“I’ll buy you some time. You’re faster than me, so get word to the Manchurian base, no matter what.”

The Manchurian base? Yeomyeong studied Kim Mansu, who looked uncharacteristically resolute. Could it be that he hadn’t realized?

He leaned in and whispered in a low voice.

“Tian Lin isn’t among the zombies. It looks like he managed to escape.”

“What?”

“If the dragon finds out, it might go after them. So let’s leave it at that. Besides…”

Yeomyeong stepped forward, drawing his sword and taking his place beside Kim Mansu. The zombies’ footsteps drew ever closer.

“I’m staying to fight.”

“…You’d be better off running.”

“If we split up now, they’ll pick us off one by one.”

“We could die at the same time.”

Despite the words, Kim Mansu chambered a round in his rifle. He seemed to have given up on convincing Yeomyeong to leave.

With one last glance at the dragon and the encroaching zombies, Yeomyeong spoke.

“Deputy Commander, I have a plan.”

“…A plan? At a time like this?”

It felt like a strange sense of déjà vu. Kim Mansu glanced sideways at Yeomyeong’s face.

“It’s a simple plan. While I take care of the dragon, you handle the zombies.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. And if possible… don’t die.”

A faint smile appeared on Kim Mansu’s hardened face. He gripped his rifle and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll try… no, I’ll make it.”

As soon as he resolved himself, Yeomyeong sprang forward.

The zombies rushed towards him, but he had already leaped with mana coursing through his calves.

He vaulted into the air, kicking off a pine tree to climb higher, until he reached the top of the canopy and met the dragon eye-to-eye. The ghostly blue flames within its eye sockets clashed with his golden gaze.

 

—Oh? So you’re going to fight?

Cahal Magdu, the undead dragon, spoke with a mix of astonishment and amusement.

—Impressive. The courage of the weak deserves to be praised.

There was no need for further words.

Yeomyeong kicked off the treetop, charging toward the dragon, just as it swirled mana with a wave of its hand.

The surrounding mana coalesced around it, forming sharp spears of ice.

A simple attack spell that human mages would call an “Ice Spike.”

But an ice spike cast by a dragon was fundamentally different from a human’s.

The size, the strength, and the sheer number.

Crack, crack, crack!

Dozens of ice spikes filled the space around him, gleaming menacingly under the night sky.

With a flick of its finger, the dragon sent all of the ice spikes hurtling towards Yeomyeong.

A perfect encirclement from above, below, and on all sides.

At the moment he faced the inescapable attack, Yeomyeong recalled the wolf-like monster he had faced during his entrance exam.

Specifically, how it moved its body.

The creature had pumped mana into its heart, squeezing its blood vessels to strengthen its body.

Humans would vomit blood and die if they tried to replicate it, but Yeomyeong imitated it willingly.

He trusted his regenerative abilities. With a healing power beyond even that of supers, he could endure this monster’s technique.

His thoughts were brief, and his hesitation was nonexistent.

‘…Accelerated Blood Flow.’

He flooded his heart with mana, forcing it to pump at an impossible rate.

His body pulsed as his arteries and veins strained.

From head to toe, a surge of mana and oxygen coursed through him. The response was explosive.

As his senses sharpened, he moved faster than his body could comprehend. With his heightened perception, he could see the trajectories of the ice spikes.

Amidst their paths, he found the weakest spot and swung his sword. A brilliant white slash pierced through the air.

Clang—!

The encirclement of ice spikes shattered. A shard nicked his cheek, but before it could melt, he had already pierced through the barrage and was right above the dragon’s head. His speed was unparalleled.

—What? How—?

Before the dragon could react, Yeomyeong drove his sword down towards its chest.

He conjured a surge of mana as he descended, channeling it from his heart, through his torso, shoulders, elbows, and hands, directing it all into his blade. His sword became a wave crashing down upon the dragon.

His target was the dragon’s heart, nestled deep between its ribs.

In a last-minute defense, the dragon thrust out its bony foreleg to shield its chest, allowing its ribs to absorb the blow.

The next instant, Yeomyeong’s sword collided with the dragon.

Crunch!

The impact yielded no resistance. There was no satisfying sensation of slicing through bone—just a vague, heavy feedback as he was thrown back along with his sword.

“Ugh!”

Yeomyeong crashed into the ground, rolling to recover his stance. As expected, his blade hadn’t reached the dragon’s heart; it had only chipped away a few shards of bone from the creature’s foreleg.

“Cutting through bone… seems impossible.”

The bone’s hardness was beyond anything he had ever faced. If there were flesh, he could at least aim for blood loss, but as it was, his only option was to strike directly at the heart.

He steadied his breathing and gripped his sword once more.

—Ha ha ha! You managed to scratch my bones! That hasn’t happened since the days those damn Yankees tried hunting me down!

The dragon seemed to revel in the encounter, rising up on two legs and swiping a claw toward him. The massive talons gouged into the ground where Yeomyeong had just been standing, sending dirt and splintered trees flying.

Yeomyeong barely dodged the strike, quickly gathering mana and surging forward.

“If I can’t attack from above, then I’ll go for below,” he thought, using his mana-boosted agility to close the distance between himself and the dragon’s underbelly.

Thud, thud!

The dragon’s claws smashed down again, sending tremors through the earth, but Yeomyeong was already within striking distance. However, before he could swing his sword upward, a force he hadn’t anticipated struck him.

Thunk!

It was the dragon’s tail, swinging with terrifying speed. Though he managed to block it with his sword, the impact sent him flying like a ragdoll through the air.

“Gah!”

Unable to fully absorb the shock, he felt his muscles scream in pain. Every blood vessel strained, and blood seeped from his nose and mouth. His vision turned crimson as capillaries in his eyes burst.

—Humans always assume everyone fights with only two arms, just like them.

The dragon’s mocking laughter echoed as Yeomyeong crashed to the ground.

“Damn it.”

His whole body ached, but he knew there was no time to waste. The dragon was already preparing its next spell. He forced himself upright, using the rebound to stabilize himself.

Even though his vision was still red and blurry, he could sense the flickering mana gathering nearby.

Crackle!

This time, it was lightning. The sound of static filled the air, as the voltage began ripping through the atmosphere—a force that couldn’t simply be cut through with a sword.

—Impressive, but still unrefined. If you had a few more years to mature… perhaps you’d make a fine vessel. Truly, it’s a pity.

Yeomyeong wiped the blood from his eyes, looking at the mass of lightning swirling before him.

Could he avoid all of it? He wasn’t sure.

But he knew that failing to evade meant certain death. He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth and raised his sword, preparing for what might be the final clash.

—Your resolve is commendable. But now… it’s time to end this.

Just as the lightning and sword were about to meet, both the dragon and Yeomyeong turned their gaze toward a sound coming from the coniferous forest beyond.

—What’s this?

Something was approaching.

There was no mana or presence to sense, but a rumble, like an engine roar, grew louder as it drew closer to them.

…!

By the time Yeomyeong recognized it as the roar of a motorcycle engine, it was almost upon them.

Vroooom!

A motorcycle appeared, splitting through the air above him. Adorned with grenades and improvised explosives, it was a top-of-the-line sports bike.

It flew with an almost divine light, barreling toward the dragon.

The sight was surreal; even the dragon stared in bewilderment at the motorcycle’s unlikely trajectory.

Only when it was nearly upon him did the dragon realize what was happening.

—What in the…?

BOOM!

The dragon reached out to grab the bike, but it exploded in his face before he could react.

First, a blinding flash of light swallowed the surroundings. Then a powerful shockwave washed over everything, followed by the dragon’s anguished roar echoing through the forest.

—RRRAAAAGH!!!

Yeomyeong instinctively raised his arms to shield himself from the debris. Once the explosion settled, he looked back in the direction the bike had come from.

There, floating in mid-air, were two automatic rifles and a pair of slender hands gripping them tightly.

It was the familiar sight of the gunslinger he’d never expected to see again.