Chapter 231 - City of Outlaws (3)

The Man Who Arrived Riding on a Black Lightning

He felt the wind brushing through his hair.

Even sitting on the ground, he seemed to perceive the scent of fresh grass.

Although it was difficult to see even an inch ahead in the room due to the thick smoke, Vlad somehow felt as if he were sitting in the middle of a forest.

"Speak, child of the Burgund tribe. Why has that dragon come to seek me?"

The old woman had covered the surroundings with magical smoke to block Sarnus's vision, but even so, she did not seem calm, limiting Vlad's words.

Because she had lived long enough to have experienced many things and knew well the dragons' obsession with perfection.

"So, the reason Lord Vlad has come here is..."

Vlad nodded silently while looking at Nibelun, who turned towards him as if asking for permission to speak.

Although he hadn't shared it with Radu and Pedro, Nibelun had already heard about Vlad's general objective.

"He has come seeking an ancient mystery. A mystery that the Ruga tribe has guarded for a long time."

"What mystery?"

Though it was Vlad's situation, it was also Nibelun's purpose.

The mage, who had been wandering in search of forgotten mysteries, looked at the old woman with bright eyes.

"A mystery so powerful that even the most perfect creature was defeated by it."

There was a story that had been told so long ago that it could now be considered a legend.

Some would have dismissed it as a story only children would listen to, but now Nibelun could see that the story wasn't simply nonsense.

"The mystery that killed the most perfect dragon of all."

The mystery that killed the most perfect dragon.

The beastmen's magic spread like poison and pierced the sword of the master swordsman, stopping the heart of the most perfect dragon.

Hearing the visitors ask about this ancient mystery, the old woman of the Ruga tribe opened her eyes in astonishment.

"…So, after all, you're just children chasing a ridiculous tale. The oldest dragon, they say."

Was it because the response was completely unexpected?

Nibelun's eyes shone seriously, but the old woman facing those eyes only laughed as if in disbelief.

The smile that seemed benevolent was so natural that even Nibelun, who spoke on his behalf, felt uncomfortable with her actions.

"A mystery that killed the most perfect dragon? That doesn't exist. It's just a fairy tale for children."

However, Nibelun didn't realize.

The sound of the old woman's breath exhaling the cigarette smoke had become faster.

Vlad's blue eyes, sitting behind, shone as he observed the old woman trying to spit out mysteries with her shrunken lungs.

"You know it, don't you?"

"…I told you not to speak."

"That's not a fairy tale."

"I said don't speak!"

Sshhh-

Seeing Vlad continue to speak, the frightened old woman poured water over the burning logs.

With hurried gestures, as if afraid of something.

Ssss-

Along with the loud sound of boiling water, steam began to fill the room.

Even Nibelun, who had always been carefree, started to panic as the air in the room became completely stale.

"Damn you, coming here with nonsense and bringing me trouble."

"It's not nonsense. It was a mage of the Ruga tribe who engraved the rune on the master swordsman's sword, wasn't it?"

"Who are you to claim I'm wrong? Among those who now walk the earth, only the dragon duke Sarnus could remember those times!"

The old woman desperately tried to deny the truth about those past events, probably for the sake of the children playing outside.

Sarnus, the oldest dragon of this era, dreamed of becoming the most perfect dragon of the past.

If he knew that the Ruga tribe possessed a mystery that could threaten his perfection, the future of the tribe, already uncertain, would be even darker.

"…Not only the dragon duke remembers those old times."

Sssss...

The old woman's scream, like a lightning bolt, was followed by a deep, dense silence.

However, Vlad simply extended his sword silently while looking at the old woman, who stared at him as if she were about to kill him.

Not as a threat, but simply as a gesture for her to look at it.

"The being within me is also the one who witnessed that moment."

The silver light of the dragon-slaying sword shone softly along with the light of the crackling firewood.

At the end of the light, which even the fog filling the room could not hide, were Vlad's blue eyes.

"He said he would like to have the original engraving re-etched on my sword."

Following the silver path established, towards Vlad's blue eyes.

Vlad's world, which was completely unwavering because he told the truth and not lies, was as clear as a calm lake, so it was not a problem for the old woman of the Ruga family to investigate it.

"…My God."

And the old woman could face the man who looked at her from the depths of the lake.

A tall man with brown hair.

It was so deep that she couldn't even hear his voice, but the silver memory he lifted clearly had the mark of the ancient Ruga family she knew.

"This is impossible."

A mystery created to taint perfection.

That magic, which should rather be called a curse, was clearly a technique that had only been performed once in the history of the Ruga family, and it was also a mark drawn on a single person.

What he holds is a silver sword.

The person holding it is the Master of the Sword.

But the blood that ran through his veins was dragon blood.

Looking at Vlad, who had escaped from the blue lake and now faced him in reality, the old woman of the Ruga family could realize what kind of being she was now facing.

"Ah…"

Finally, the old woman recognized Vlad and uttered a name she had feared to pronounce.

The name was so ancient that no one spoke of it anymore, like a master of the sword who no longer exists.

"The most perfect dragon."

The only way to break the perfection that exists on its own is to contaminate the pure world of that perfection.

To corrupt that purity, the Master of the Sword from long ago decided to add an impurity that would not be easily erased in the most perfect world of dragons.

Riding on the engravings of the Ruga family along the deeply embedded silver knight.

The name of the impurity introduced into the perfect world of dragons was none other than the honorable knight Kihano.

***

That day was a day when the sun was hidden.

Hidden by the moon, only a faint golden ring remained, withering like a flower losing its glow.

"…Kihano. You have finally come this far."

The sword was lodged in his heart, and red blood flowed from the wound.

However, no matter how red the blood flowed, it could not compare to the countless amounts of blood flowing here now.

"Did you sacrifice everyone for this moment?"

"…It was not a sacrifice."

Even now, there were helpless corpses on the hill.

The coldly cooling corpses behind Kihano were his subordinates and companions who had been wildly shouting just a moment ago.

"They chose it."

Humans, elves, dwarves, and even beastmen.

Thanks to their sacrifice, which can never happen again, Kihano finally reached this moment.

Thanks to the path they opened, the duelist who bore the fate of the world finally plunged his sword into the heart of the most perfect dragon.

"…I am perfect, and therefore immortal. Their sacrifices to me are nothing more than a fleeting dream of a night."

Even with the sword lodged in his own heart, the most perfect dragon ended in complete disaster, caressing Kihano as if feeling pity for him.

As his slender fingers wiped the blood from his face, Kihano's expression, hidden until now, became visible.

"That's why I prepared this sword."

Buzzing-

The silver sword wept.

Feeling its master being torn apart more and more as tears flowed with blood.

The crack in the world that began from the depths of the soul had an echo so great and devastating that even the silver knight in contact felt pain.

"You will no longer be perfect. Because at some point in the future, I will shatter you again."

The engraving on the sword shone along with Kihano's words.

It was a somber light that did not match the silver gleam of the sword.

The symbol of the black lightning engraved on the inscription shone slowly, injecting deadly poison into the heart of the most perfect dragon.

"The name I give you is Kihano, the champion Kihano."

I send my world into yours, so deep that you will never be able to rid yourself of it.

The most perfect dragon felt Kihano's world entering his, and his expression changed to one of surprise.

"The sword is cold."

"…"

"My eyelids feel heavy."

"…Sleep."

Kihano's head gradually lowered as if losing strength.

"Because when you wake up again, you will not be yourself."

"Before I fall asleep, tell me one last thing."

Asked the most perfect dragon, grabbing Kihano's head as it gradually descended.

"What did you think of me when you saw me?"

A perfect dragon capable of encompassing all aspects of the world.

The most perfect dragon, who was desire for some, anger for others, and fear for others, wanted to know how he appeared to Kihano one last time.

"…I will never tell you."

Crack!

However, Kihano did not give the final answer that the most perfect dragon wanted.

He only pushed the sword deeper into the dragon's heart.

The world called Kihano that fell with him began to fall into the most perfect world of dragons through the tip of the silver sword.

"Kihano—No!"

Sarnus, caught by a leash, cried at the foot of a hill, watching the last tremors of the most perfect dragon.

However, his cries shattered like an unfulfilled dream and only floated over the deserted hill.

Although countless people climbed this hill where the sun was setting, only two people remained.

No, only one and a half.

Frausen, with a vacant expression, looked at the most perfect dragon, now deeply asleep, and raised his head again towards the rising sun.

***

There was a boy lying in the mud.

The boy's name was Vlad, and he was cold in the street, but no one approached him.

"Why did he suddenly fall?"

"They said he was struck by lightning from a clear sky."

People gathered and murmured.

I could only shrink back, not daring to approach the strange phenomenon I had never seen before.

"But wasn't the color of the lightning simply black?"

"Yes. Maybe he was cursed."

It was said that on that day, the boy was struck by lightning and collapsed.

They said it was a black lightning that seemed sinister.

[······.]

The boy's blue eyes were still half-open, perhaps shocked by the sudden jolt.

The last thing he saw before falling was the image of a simple, unadorned sword that shone in the middle of a dark alley.

A simple sword that shone without needing to be hung on high.

The day the boy, who never became perfect, was struck by the black lightning was the day he embraced a small star in his heart.

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