My sword pierced Gongbok’s scales with shocking ease.

The steel spikes he had summoned to block my approach weakened his defenses further, making his scales brittle.
The assistance of the Red Dragon allowed me to exploit this weakness perfectly.

“Kahack… Khhh…” Gongbok coughed up blood.

“Hah… Hah…” I panted heavily.

My entire body refused to obey me.

Of course, it was expected.
I had sustained fatal wounds even before unleashing my sword aura.
Even after the aura manifested, I had endured countless attacks, losing far too much blood.

Unable to use So-ryong Deungcheonbo (the Sky-Climbing Dragon Step), I had no choice but to withstand Gongbok’s attacks head-on.

It was a miracle I hadn’t dropped my sword in those final moments.

“Impressive…”

Gongbok’s voice, faint yet steady, reached my ears.

Even after receiving a mortal blow, he still clung to life.
One strike wouldn’t be enough to end him.
If he went berserk, he could still wreak havoc.

I needed to finish him off somehow.

“There’s no need… to go that far…” he muttered. “With wounds like these… survival is impossible…”

Was he trying to lower my guard?
It was natural to be suspicious, but something in his voice made me believe him.

There was a resignation in his tone, an acceptance of the end.
And there was no longer any sign of resistance in his demeanor.

“Gomodo… To think I would witness such an ancient being…”

His words, spoken as he lay dying, piqued my interest.
For a creature who had lived for centuries, his knowledge could be invaluable.

He might reveal the locations of other dragon descendants or even a way to reach the True Dragon.

“That sword aura of yours… You may not yet wield it freely, but for a moment… it felt as though I was looking at my father…”

Gongbok coughed up blood as he spoke, his voice growing weaker.

“Yes, I failed… But you… You might succeed.”

The hostility in his eyes was gone.

“You might reach my father, the True Dragon.”

Was he asking me to accomplish what he couldn’t?
Just moments ago, we had fought to the death, and now, with his life slipping away, he wanted me to carry out his will.

“The True Dragon… is known as the most sacred of spiritual beings. I admired him too,” Gongbok continued, recounting his story despite his dire state.

Born of a stone spirit mother and the divine True Dragon, he had trained tirelessly to become like his father.
But when he finally thought he had reached his father, the dragon had already forgotten both him and his mother.

When the illegitimate child approached, the True Dragon had killed his mother.

“Would a truly sacred being commit such an act? No, it’s impossible. My father… was nothing like the being the world speaks of!”

His emotions surged, blood spilling from his mouth as he spoke.

“Khhrk…”

It was clear Gongbok had his reasons, his own painful story.
But that didn’t change anything.

The countless swordsmen who lay dead across this volcanic field—they too had their stories.
None of them were more important than my followers.

The only thing I could offer Gongbok was an end to his suffering.

His weary eyes met mine.

“…I know it’s selfish, but… can you grant me one last request?”

I didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop him from continuing.

“Kill my father, the True Dragon.”

His shocking request left me momentarily speechless.

I understood the resentment he harbored toward the True Dragon.
Yet, despite that, he had admired his father.

And now, he was asking me to kill the very being he revered.

“That creature… is no sacred being… If my father isn’t stopped… a greater calamity will come, ancient death with a tail…”

Shlink.

As I hesitated to respond, Gongbok plucked a scale from his body.
It hovered in the air, seemingly moved by some form of Spatial Manipulation, and flew toward me.

Even with his body broken, he still had enough strength to use such power—yet he chose to surrender.

Why give this to me?

“Seek out Chodo,” he said.

Chodo.
A name I hadn’t expected to hear.

If I remembered correctly, Chodo was another dragon descendant and a member of the Dragon’s Sons.

“You can trust him… unlike the others…”

Was his mind faltering in his final moments?
Why did he assume I would fulfill his request?

“…Show him this token, and he will help you.”

Gongbok’s silver eyes stared blankly into the void, the light within them fading.

“It’s a shame. All we did was fight, and now… I’m telling you things I shouldn’t have.”

Thud.

His massive head fell to the ground.

“If only we had met as allies… and fought the True Dragon together… It might have been fun.”

He raised his claws.

Though he had shared valuable information, I decided to end his suffering swiftly.

“Hahh… If only… Namgoong Yeon… If it weren’t for him…”

That name stopped me in my tracks.

It was a name I’d heard multiple times since coming here.
Namgoong Yeon—a figure even more dangerous than Gongbok or Akbulhwi.

I knew he was orchestrating something vast, but his ultimate goal remained unclear.

“Khh… Ha… So, you finally react when that name is mentioned…”

Gongbok twisted his enormous mouth into what resembled a smile.

“I don’t know what he’s planning… But I can tell you one thing…”

Flash!

A crimson aura enveloped Gongbok’s body.

I instinctively knew—this was Namgoong Yeon’s doing.
A failsafe to prevent Gongbok from revealing too much.

“Khh… Hahaha!” Gongbok laughed bitterly.

“Yes… I expected this…” he muttered, glancing into the void.

Clang!

Summoning countless steel blades, Gongbok used his remaining strength to sever the crimson aura.

“Grrrgh…”

The effort left him writhing in pain.

Only then did I understand why he had chosen to surrender while he still had some strength left.
He had wanted to break free from Namgoong Yeon’s interference.

“Remember this,” he said, using Dragon Speech to etch his words into my mind.

His translucent body began to fade, the cost of pushing beyond his limits.

“Alu… That is Namgoong Yeon’s true name…”

With those final words, Gongbok hurled himself toward my claws.

Slash!

Even without my sword aura, his neck split open beneath my talons.

His massive body shuddered briefly before going still.

[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]

A cascade of level-up messages filled my vision, confirming Gongbok’s death.

There was no time to mourn him.
In the past, he had mercilessly slaughtered my followers.

Now, my priority was ensuring their survival.

Though my strength was recovering, moving was still difficult.
As I forced my exhausted body upright, something unexpected happened.

Whrrr.

A fox marble hovered above Gongbok’s remains, spinning rapidly.

Before I could process what was happening, it emitted a brilliant violet light.

The light engulfed Gongbok’s corpse, accelerating its decay.

“What the…?”

I jumped back instinctively.

The fox marble, which had been docile until now, was suddenly behaving erratically.

As I moved to scold it, it floated right up to my face.

Whrrr.

It trembled violently, almost as if it were alive.

And then, I heard a voice.

“…What is this place?”

The tone was unmistakably Gongbok’s.
The sensation, too, was his.

Yet, it sounded faint, almost fragile.

***

Namgoong Yeon closed his eyes.

“So… fate has been twisted.”

Gomodo and its followers were all destined to die.
That was the predetermined future.

No being, no matter how powerful, could alter fate.

And yet, an anomaly had occurred.

The laws of fate itself had been severed.

“How fascinating. What could have driven Gongbok to make such a choice?”

Gongbok had been defeated by Gomodo.
It was an impossibility.

Though he had taken a critical hit, Gongbok still had strength left.
His kind was not one to perish simply from having their neck severed.

Yet, Gongbok had acknowledged his defeat and willingly accepted death.
Even Gongbok’s fate had been twisted.

“It’s mildly irritating that his true name was revealed, but that changes nothing.”

Namgoong Yeon—no, Alu—had experienced countless failures.

But his expression wasn’t dark.
In fact, it seemed as though he was… pleased.

“Khuhuh… KHAHAHA!”

Namgoong Yeon let out a burst of mad laughter.

“Could it really be? The being foretold by prophecy?”

A new Heavenly Demon would rise in the Mountains of Ten Thousand Beasts.
Namgoong Yeon was convinced that the prophesied entity could be none other than Gomodo.

He had subjected it to countless trials.

He had orchestrated contact with humans, incited the rampage of Gae Gak Goatal, and ensured that Gomodo’s destruction would be sealed by the Volcano Sect and Gongbok.

Yet, that lizard had overcome every trial.

Namgoong Yeon—or rather, Alu—spoke with a voice filled with exhilaration.

“A dragon that shatters fate… Truly, the name Paryong (Dragon of Ruin) is well deserved!”

He laughed hysterically.
So much so that tears formed at the corners of his eyes.

“The ancient death with a tail… It won’t be long before a new evil emerges, far surpassing any petty malice of the past.”

The True Dragon, as known to the world, was undoubtedly a force of good.
Thus, Gomodo, its opposite, was destined to be a force of pure evil.

Alu’s mind whirred with calculations.

What was still missing from Gomodo?
What needed to be done to fulfill his grand plan?
And how could he corrupt the yet-unaware Gomodo into embracing its true identity?

It was almost within reach.

If he made no mistakes, Gomodo could be transformed into the epitome of evil.

The fact that Gongbok had revealed his true name was a minor inconvenience, but merely knowing a name wouldn’t change anything.

Perhaps if Gongbok had still been alive and revealed more critical information, it could have been a problem.
But Alu had confirmed Gongbok’s annihilation.

The only other potential disruption might be the intervention of the Celestial Fox, a being said to be connected to the heavens.
But the odds of Gomodo being tied to such an existence were negligible.

Alu was confident.
There were no variables left in his plan.