Dragons were, without question, the continent's supreme power.
Even just by speaking, dragons could wield magic through draconic incantation, and their breath contained devastating power. With Dragon Hearts that allowed them to effortlessly draw in surrounding mana, they were a race that could easily overwhelm any other from birth.
Among such beings stood the Dragon Lord, the one who reigned at the very pinnacle of all dragons, and whose power was beyond measure.
Kwaaaah!
Golden-tinged breath poured toward the ground. It was powerful enough to wipe out a modest city, but those who had long since surpassed human limits swung their swords regardless. They were the elders of the Ducal Family of Leston, men and women who had once dominated an era and then faded into the pages of history. They all answered the call willingly for the future's sake.
"Cut the breath apart!" someone shouted.
"By the duke's command!" others added.
Kwaaaah!
Hundreds of waves smashed into the breath, which splintered into hundreds of shards. It fell to others to deal with the fragments.
"Ifrit," Orion called.
"It's another world's Dragon Lord. How interesting, how very interesting!" Ifrit remarked.
"The gold dragon's breath can be countered with water-element magic! Cast your highest-level spells!" someone shouted.
From Ifrit outward, the mage regiments led by the Imperial Magic Tower Master poured their power into the sky and began to dismantle the breath, piece by piece.
Boooom!
Mana tangled together and an enormous backlash swept across the land.
"Crush them."
When the Dragon Lord spoke the draconic incantation, the breath's fragments instantly turned into huge blocks of metal. The metal masses began to plummet toward the earth. They fell like meteorites, smashing through the mages' defensive spells.
The elders of the Ducal Family of Leston moved swiftly and cleaved many of the metal chunks, but even they couldn't defend perfectly.
Crush! Crush! Crush!
Several metal slabs slammed into the ground and in a heartbeat claimed the lives of dozens. Some of the mages who were casting spells couldn't escape the attack's radius. The power was simply overwhelming.
Yet even a Dragon Lord couldn't exhale that breath continuously. Such a mighty technique required a long time to recharge.
"Judas!" Caron called the name of his demon subordinate without hesitation. From the rear, more of his troops, armed with new siege engines, stepped into view.
"Begin," Caron ordered.
"Understood," they replied.
Dwarves who had been waiting in a safe place rushed to attach themselves to the fiends, and five siege engines revealed themselves. Halo stared, bewildered, once he recognized their shape.
"What on earth is that, Caron?" Halo asked.
Caron grinned and nodded, then answered proudly, "We took some dragon bone last time, remember? We made these on a whim, though I didn't expect to use them now. You could call them the dwarves' trump card... The dwarves call them Dragon Killers. Perfect timing. I meant to use them against those Demon Kings, but the chance for them to live up to the name has finally come."
Dragon Killers were dragon-hunting machines developed long ago by dwarves who had endured generations of wyrm attacks. Old designs, upgraded by modern craftsmanship, stood before them. Tanks bristling with multiple harpoons and massive-caliber cannons had been combined with demonic war engines acquired on a dark expedition, the so-called Destroyers.
"Weapons are for using, aren't they? That cost about the duke's budget for three months just to fire once," Caron said.
"What?" Halo asked.
As if it was nothing, Caron replied, "I told them to go ahead and use them; we can settle the bill later. Halo, how long will you keep throwing bodies into the grinder like before? Wars are won with money now—"
At that very moment...
Wooooooosh!
Craaaaaaaaash!
The barrels of the Dragon Killer, now fully charged, gathered an immense surge of mana before firing colossal shells straight toward the Dragon Lord suspended in the sky.
"Block them."
The Dragon Lord swiftly uttered a draconic incantation, spreading a massive barrier of golden force before him. But the enormous projectiles warped the barrier as if mocking it, then struck the Dragon Lord's body directly...
Booooooom!
The sky and the ground trembled again. Even the dragon's thick hide, strong enough to withstand the aura of an 8-Star knight, was torn apart mercilessly. A scream ripped from the Dragon Lord's throat.
"Arrrrrghhhhh!"
But the attack didn't end there.
"Fire!" Caron shouted.
"Slay the wicked dragon!" the dwarves bellowed.
They immediately launched the harpoons mounted on the Dragon Killer. Propelled with terrifying force, the bolts drove deep into the Dragon Lord's exposed flesh.
They weren't mere harpoons.
Whoooosh!
The shafts began to hum and glow with a sinister black light, resonating in the air. The Dragon Lord's roar grew even louder, echoing across the sky.
"I had the dwarves inscribe a bit of dark magic to cause decay, just in case," Caron said casually, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Even a Dragon Lord won't last long enduring the pain of his own flesh starting to rot."
"You're a devil," Halo muttered.
"First, let's clip those wings and bring him down," Caron said calmly. "Halo, you take the left wing; I'll handle the right."
As long as the Dragon Lord remained aloft, they couldn't deliver a fatal blow. To kill a dragon, one had to destroy its heart—its Dragon Heart. The attack was proving effective, but with the heart intact, the creature would surely regenerate before long.
At Caron's words, Halo sighed and nodded. He asked, "Got any ideas for how we're getting up there?"
"Of course," Caron replied, then called out, "Lady Gratia!"
Kwoosh!
At his call, Gratia revealed her true form, unleashing a fierce roar that split the air.
"Let's end this quickly," Caron said. "We still have a long way to go."
He climbed onto Gratia's back, and Halo followed right after him. Upon confirming that the two 9-Star knights had boarded, Gratia soared straight up into the sky.
As they ascended, Caron stared at the Dragon Lord's massive form and grinned slyly. He said, "Come to think of it, spending a fortune really isn't an issue."
"What nonsense are you talking about now?" Halo asked.
"The Dragon Lord is even bigger than Gratia. If we sell that carcass afterward, we'll cover all the war costs and still have plenty left. Haha, why didn't I think of this earlier?" Caron exclaimed.
"Was there a reason you had to say that while sitting on my back, oath-bearer?" Gratia's voice rumbled through his mind.
"Ah, I'm just saying," Caron replied sheepishly.
Before long, they had reached the Dragon Lord face-to-face. The dragon's golden eyes had turned ashen gray, burning with wrath and madness.
"Fight with honor, Caron Leston!" the Dragon Lord bellowed. "I deserve a noble end!"
Caron laughed as though he had just heard a bad joke. Leaping from Gratia's back, he said, "There's no such thing as honor in war. You either kill or be killed. They say the old folks cling to honor when they've got nothing else left. It looks like you're no different."
Whooosh!
Guillotine flared with a dark, ominous aura.
"Let's settle this fairly on the ground," Caron said.
Bwoooosh!
The blade cleaved through one of the Dragon Lord's enormous wings. The weight of it made Caron feel a heavy sensation at his fingertips. The wing was so massive it took nearly ten seconds to cut through completely.
The severed wing tore away, and Caron fell toward the earth. Twisting midair, he steadied himself and glared up at the wounded dragon.
Halo had also succeeded in slicing off the left wing as well.
"How foolish... Did you think cutting my wings would make me fall? Caron Leston, I have overestimated—" the Dragon Lord began, but was interrupted.
Caron smiled sweetly and pointed a finger toward the sky, saying, "Worry about yourself."
At that moment...
Craaaaash!
Dozens of moons plummeted from the heavens. The Dragon Lord's body was struck by them and crashed violently to the ground, buried beneath a storm of shattered light and dust.
***
A heavy cloud of dust billowed into the air.
When it finally began to clear, a deep crater was revealed in the ground. And within it, the Dragon Lord slowly opened his weary eyes.
"Ah..." he exhaled. He wondered how long it had been since he felt this way.
Since the fall of the world, he had lived as nothing more than a servant of Void. There had been no hope left in this world. Only the hollow survival of those whose deaths had been delayed by Void's will. Perhaps, he thought bitterly, the other survivors had it better than he did.
Caron, now the Demon King of Void, had forcibly planted the illusion of hope within them. Those survivors lived like beasts in a pen, feeding on the scraps Caron threw their way.
The Dragon Lord wondered if that could even be called life, then shook his head slowly and pushed himself to his feet.
"Grrrhh..."
His severed wings had already stopped bleeding. The pain, a sensation he'd long forgotten, nearly made him dizzy. But strangely, he didn't feel unhappy about it. Pain, at least, was proof of being alive.
The Dragon Lord sensed this place would be his end. Yet he found no desire to run from that fate.
Fwoooosh!
The massive dragon's body was enveloped in light. When it faded, the Dragon Lord stood as a golden-haired man in a black suit, climbing out of the crater with a faint, bitter smile.
"There's so many of you," he murmured.
Before him stretched an army—hundreds of knights and demonkin, all waiting for him. The strongest among mortals had gathered here, and even the fiends were no force to scoff at. Every one of them radiated murderous intent, their auras powerful enough to rival noble-ranked demons. Behind them stood mages and warriors of other races, weapons drawn, ready for battle.
There was nowhere to run—not that that the Dragon Lord intended to.
"Before I kill you," a young human at the front said with a crooked grin, "I'd like to ask you something."
It was Caron Leston, but not the same Caron Leston who had embraced the Void.
The Dragon Lord knew well that countless worlds branched from this single point, each holding a different version of that name. All of it was the will of Void.
The Demon King of Void created infinite worlds from infinite possibilities. Those worlds had collided, and this nightmarish city stood as proof of that collision.
This was the only world that had endured. Because Caron Leston, who had returned alive from the Heart of Sin, had only one master he followed.
And yet, for some reason...
"...I have a feeling that if it's you, it might just be possible," the Dragon Lord said softly.
For the first time in an eternity, he saw hope in this Caron in front of him.
Every other Caron had been nothing but a vengeful ghost, willing to sacrifice companions for revenge, incapable of mercy. Always alone, always at the front, a man so powerful it was terrifying; and yet, so desperately lonely.
But this Caron was different. He stood at the front, yes, but not alone. Behind him were countless comrades, gazing at his back with unwavering trust.
Caron Leston was no longer a solitary beast. He was a leader, part of something greater.
Whoosh.
From the Dragon Lord's fingertips, long claws extended—golden talons that gathered an immense surge of mana. He said, "My name is Iter."
"Well, that's sudden," Caron replied with a lazy smirk. "Why introduce yourself when you're about to die anyway?"
"...Because I want you to remember it," Iter said quietly.
"Sure, sure. But before that, let me ask you something," Caron said.
Iter let out a dry chuckle and nodded, then said, "Go ahead."
"Even if dragons die while in human form, the Polymorph ends right before they die, right?" Caron asked.
"Yes, but why do you want to know that?" Iter asked.
"You don't need to know. You're about to die anyway. You sure talk a lot for someone who's about to die," Caron replied.
Whoosh!
The mana flowing from Caron's body surged outward like an ocean, a violent, crushing sea of energy that could devour everything in its path.
"You've lived long enough," he said, his tone light but eyes glinting coldly. "So I'll send you off properly."
"You're challenging me to a duel?" Iter asked, amused.
Caron stuck a finger in his ear, pretending to clean it. He replied, "What, are you crazy? That's not fair. Fair means using everything you've got. You've got only yourself. We've got all of us. So all of us fighting you together is fair."
With a weary laugh, Iter said, "Hah..."
He found Caron entertaining to the very end. He wondered what it would have been like if he'd been with the Caron of this world.
He glanced toward Gratia, eyes soft with something like envy, then said, "Gratia... Your oath-bearer is a fascinating human."
"I apologize, Lord," Gratia said solemnly.
"I hope you, at least, reach the journey's end," Iter said.
"I will," Gratia replied.
"Good," Iter said.
Whoosh!
A surge of golden mana radiated outward in every direction. Brilliant streams of radiance coiled through the air, painting the battlefield in a shimmering haze.
Within that light, Iter smiled faintly and said, "Come, warriors. Step over my corpse and go forward!"
Caron lunged forward and said, "Don't worry. We'll make good use of that corpse. For now, just die."
A flash of dark blue split the light.
The sword pierced Iter's heart clean through.