"Sins are passed through blood to the next generation."
These were the words the Amwang had heard from his father when he was young.
The sins of their ancestors, passed down through their lineage, piling burdens upon the descendants.
The words Amwang heard most often from his father were apologies.
[“I’m sorry for bringing you into this world.”]
[“I should never have had you.”]
Hurtful words, perhaps, but Amwang understood as he listened.
The circumstances left little room for anything else.
A monster who longed to be human had given birth to another monster.
The child born wished to be human, but their blood was too strong for that.
This was the will of his father.
Regardless of his regrets, Amwang’s monstrous birth had been a product of his father’s wishes.
When Amwang turned twenty, his father passed away.
He died as he had lived, always apologizing to Amwang. Yet, for some reason, his father died with a smile on his face—a happy one.
As Amwang knelt before his father’s gravestone, his own expression was blank.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t sad.
The emotions were there, but they weren’t strong enough to twist his face into grief.
Only then did Amwang realize that he truly was a monster.
At the same time, he thought he understood why his father had smiled as he passed away.
“Are you happy now that you’ve passed it on?”
He spoke to the gravestone.
The curse of this bloodline was cruel.
It crushed emotions, sometimes warped appearances into grotesque forms, and granted extraordinary physical abilities—but only to further prove one’s monstrous nature.
His father had called it the Curse of Dragon’s Blood.
A curse bestowed by dragons.
To possess the blood of dragons but fall short of becoming one, degrading into something hideous.
This did not scare Amwang. He didn’t care about becoming a dragon or not.
The problem with this curse was singular.
Because one couldn’t become a dragon, they longed for it, yet also cried out to live as human.
And yet…
The curse also made them despise humanity, to view humans with contempt and disdain.
It was a curse that encapsulated contradiction, driving its bearer into chaos.
This was the essence of the Curse of Dragon’s Blood.
Worse still, if the bloodline awakened fully, voices would begin to echo in one’s mind.
—Serve the dragon.
A voice, belonging to no one in particular, spoke endlessly.
You, who cannot become a dragon, serve one instead.
A relentless voice that plagued its victim daily, no matter how exhausted or desperate they became.
There was only one way to escape this curse.
The answer was to have a child and pass the curse onto them.
The vicious bloodline made death impossible for its bearer unless someone else took on the burden.
Amwang’s father had borne a child for this reason—to escape the curse by passing it on.
Only by doing so could one finally find release in death. It was a merciless curse.
His mother, who had borne him, died in childbirth.
His father, up until the moment he died, had never spoken about her.
When Amwang turned twenty and awakened the curse, his father passed away.
The man who had apologized endlessly for his entire life died with the happiest smile imaginable.
What remained now was the life of Amwang, cursed and awakened at twenty.
Kneeling before his father’s grave, Amwang made a vow.
He would break this curse.
He would not pass it onto the next generation—he would find a way to face death himself.
And so, he lived.
—Serve the dragon.
Even as the words echoed in his ears, he endured.
—Kill those inferior creatures.
His emotions dried up and withered.
As a monster, his gaze toward humans grew colder.
This indifference made it easy to kill.
Amwang had a talent for killing.
Moreover, the "power" contained within his curse made harming others effortless.
Though he did not revel in his power, he used it consistently.
Over time, he became known as the Amwang, the pinnacle of assassins.
Others began to flock to him, forming the Cheolya Assassination Squad.
That had been over a hundred years ago…
“Wait, hold on… What?”
I interrupted, cutting off the Amwang mid-explanation.
He stopped speaking and turned to look at me.
I stared back at him, confused by what I’d just heard.
“…A hundred years ago? Did you just say it was a hundred years ago?”
“That’s correct.”
The Cheolya Assassination Squad had been formed a century ago?
It wasn’t unheard of for someone of Amwang’s caliber to live that long, but…
‘Based on his story, it seems like he’s lived even longer than that.’
The tales he recounted hinted at events far older than a century.
“…Senior, how old are you exactly?”
“I stopped counting after one hundred and fifty.”
“…”
I clamped my mouth shut at his nonchalant response.
One hundred and fifty?
I was certain I’d heard that correctly.
One hundred and fifty years old, and he hadn’t bothered counting since.
‘But he looks so young.’
Despite his actual age, the Amwang looked far from it.
While Paejon had undergone a rejuvenation technique, the Amwang didn’t appear even close to middle age.
Even with his now-transformed skin, back when he had white hair and pale eyes, he had looked like a strikingly handsome young man.
To learn he was over a century and a half old left me dumbfounded.
While I stared blankly at him, the Amwang offered further explanation.
“The curse does not allow death.”
“…So, it grants immortality?”
A curse that denied death. Was it really a curse or a blessing in disguise?
“If you can’t die of old age, then what about being killed? Surely, that’s possible.”
If death was the goal, someone else could always deliver it, even if self-harm was impossible. Poison, for instance, or other methods should work.
As the thought crossed my mind, the Amwang explained:
“Death is not permitted by those of inferior species.”
“Ha… What an absurd story.”
I couldn’t help but curse aloud.
What kind of lofty species imposed such a ridiculous curse?
And worse…
‘A descendant of Yeon Ilcheon.’
A member of the family that had saved the world—the Golden Heaven Yeon Ga.
To think their bloodline was burdened by such a curse. Why?
“…Do you know why this curse was placed upon your lineage?”
“It is said to be a punishment from the Great Dragon.”
The Great Dragon’s wrath had cursed them with the Curse of Dragon’s Blood.
The Great Dragon…
The answer came to me naturally.
‘The Blood Demon.’
The only being I could reasonably associate with dragons was him.
If anyone had cursed Yeon Ilcheon’s bloodline, it had to be the Blood Demon.
I gathered my thoughts, and then finally asked the Amwang the question I’d been holding back.
"But, Senior..."
"Yes?"
"Could you… maybe treat me a bit more casually?"
For the love of everything, could he stop kneeling like that and speaking in overly formal tones? The sudden shift to polite language was so unsettling it was driving me insane.
“Why are you doing this…?”
“...”
The Amwang was silent for a moment, then…
“Hm.”
Letting out a brief hum, he moved slightly.
And then—
“…!”
Before I knew it, the tip of his dagger was at my throat.
No, it hadn’t actually touched me. He stopped just short of my skin.
‘What the…?’
I hadn’t even noticed his movement, and now I could feel the cold killing intent radiating from him.
It was clear he had intended to kill me just now… and yet, he didn’t follow through.
Looking at him for answers, I saw him withdraw the dagger as he spoke.
“I cannot harm you, nor can I act without offering you the utmost courtesy.”
“…What happens if you don’t?”
“I must.”
I see.
So even if the Amwang didn’t want to, he was compelled to act this way toward me. He couldn’t attack me either.
Was he demonstrating that for me just now?
I rubbed my neck lightly, the lingering chill still annoying me. The fact that I hadn’t even reacted irked me further.
“…Fine. I understand what you’re saying.”
I got it—he was under some kind of curse.
I also understood that he was a failed dragon and that my transformation into a dragon made him behave this way toward me.
“So, what exactly is it that you want from me?”
What was it the Amwang was hoping for? I needed to know precisely.
He asked me to break his curse, didn’t he?
He had begged me to free him from his curse, but…
How am I supposed to do that?
Even if he asked, I had no idea how to go about it. Even if a method existed, I needed to know it first.
How can I break it if I don’t even know how?
Caught in this situation, I could only stare blankly as the Amwang spoke.
“They said it could be resolved by meeting a dragon. That they would know how.”
At his words, I frowned.
“...Who told you that?”
That it could be resolved by meeting a dragon? If this was based on the logic that a dragon had placed the curse, so a dragon could remove it, that was one thing.
But if someone had told him this, it was a different story entirely.
With a grave expression, I pressed the Amwang for an answer.
“Taechun.”
He gave a simple response.
“The master of Taechun told me this.”
“Taechun… Taechun?”
My eyes widened at the name.
If he meant Taechun… could it be…?
“…Are you referring to the Taechun Magyeong in the northeast?”
The Taechun Magyeong.
It referred to the open dimensional rift near the Black Dragon River, at the border of Zhongyuan.
Unlike gates like Magyeong Gate or True Magyeong Gate, which spewed out monsters, Taechun Magyeong was relatively stable.
It was one of the few open dimensional rifts managed by the Martial Alliance, and it was the furthest from civilization.
But…
‘The master,’ he said.
The term “master” struck a chord. If the Amwang referred to someone as the master, then…
‘The master of the Taechun Magyeong, then.’
It was akin to saying the ruler of a world.
The Amwang had met the master of Taechun and been told that meeting a dragon could break his curse.
‘Who the hell is this person?’
A being from another world, speaking about dragons—it was bizarre, to say the least.
“This… is this related to why you’re here now?”
“Yes.”
His response came without hesitation.
Why the Amwang was here—while part of it might have been due to Paejon’s request, something else seemed more pressing.
“And the Black Dragon Sword?”
The reason I came to Sichuan in the first place was because of the Black Dragon Sword.
The Amwang had been the one to destroy its grotesque form in a single blow.
Could that be connected as well?
“The Taechun said so. To break the curse, I must meet a dragon. And so, it offered to tell me the dragon’s location.”
The Amwang’s overly formal tone grated on my nerves, but I didn’t bother to correct him.
“That was the deal.”
“…The deal?”
“To eliminate the deviant apostle.”
An apostle?
If the Black Dragon Sword was the reason for his actions, then…
‘The apostle of Taechun, then?’
Based on what I was hearing, the Black Dragon Sword had been the apostle of this otherworldly master.
While I didn’t fully understand how that worked, it seemed to make sense.
‘So the sword survived because of this master.’
The sword, supposedly killed by the Sword Sovereign, had somehow returned to life. If an otherworldly being had intervened, the pieces fit.
Still, a few questions remained.
“Then why didn’t you deal with the Black Dragon Sword immediately?”
Why did the Amwang go all the way to the Shinryong Hall to eliminate it? I couldn’t understand.
The Amwang, tilting his head slightly, answered plainly.
“It was the most effective method.”
“Specifically?”
“To approach the Black Dragon Sword. It happened to need my help, so I used it.”
“…!”
Hearing this, I finally realized the truth behind the black barrier that had enveloped the Shinryong Hall.
“…That barrier—it was your doing?”
I had thought it felt strangely familiar every time I saw it.
‘It’s similar to the barrier he used to kill me hundreds of times.’
The barrier the Amwang had erected during my training, covering the night sky—it was the same.
It explained why he had suddenly appeared at the Shinryong Hall.
To gather information to find the dragon, he had acted on Taechun’s request.
“…And in the process of fulfilling that request, you met me?”
“Yes.”
At the Shinryong Hall, he had encountered me and sensed our connection.
Curious, he had followed Paejon’s suggestion and joined us. And now, here we were, with me having fully transformed into a dragon.
So that was it.
‘What a ridiculous chain of coincidences.’
I immediately dismissed the thought.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
There was no way this was mere happenstance, no matter how much I might wish otherwise.
‘Taechun…’
Perhaps this mysterious being had foreseen my transformation into a dragon.
Perhaps it had deliberately sent the Amwang to ensure our fates would intertwine.
Though it was pure speculation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was right.
“About your curse,” I finally said.
“I don’t know how to lift it.”
I was honest.
There was no point in pretending otherwise.
“...”
The Amwang remained expressionless.
What was this? Had I guessed wrong?
Looking at him curiously, I saw him speak once more.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“…What?”
I paused, confused by his response.
How could it not matter? After begging me to break his curse on his knees, he now said it didn’t matter?
“If you cannot break my curse, I have another request.”
“Another request?”
What else could he possibly want from me?
“What is it?”
I asked cautiously, wanting to know before deciding whether to refuse.
The Amwang answered without hesitation.
“Here and now…”
His words made me hold my breath.
“…Please kill me.”
“…!”
The dry, desolate tone of his voice sent chills down my spine.
‘This…’
Hearing his words, I finally understood.
From the very beginning, this was what the Amwang had truly wanted.
Even his request to break the curse…
It all boiled down to the same thing.
From the start, what he had sought from me was simple:
“Save me by granting me death.”
He had always wanted to die.