Black Dragon Zairkan.
He had a certain pride. Although he wasn’t at the level of Yuren in her prime, who was considered equal in strength to a Lord, Zairkan was still in a position of power.
He was particularly famous for smashing everything he disliked. This earned him the nickname Wyrm, proving just how powerful he was.
Zairkan himself took immense pride in this. There was no way he could lose — not unless it was to another dragon. He was convinced of this. But what on earth was this human?
‘My head was cut off in an instant? Me?!’
Dragon scales are armor that nothing can pierce. A fortress that doesn’t allow for defeat. This isn’t an exaggeration. Piercing a dragon’s scales is a formidable task.
This is why Yuren was able to stall against countless Demons by herself. Although Zairkan couldn’t compare to Yuren, that didn’t mean his defense was lacking.
However, this belief also became the source of Zairkan’s arrogance. The result was this. He believed he would never fall, and so allowed an attack, which led to this outcome.
Zairkan felt his life force draining away. If this continued, he would truly die. Not at the hands of his kin, but from a mere human he deemed beneath him.
[Me, Zairkan! Do you think I would allow that?!]
Ironically, that pride, almost resembling arrogance, extended Zairkan’s life. The tendons sprouting from his severed neck wriggled like tentacles, reconnecting with his body.
Eventually, his head slowly reattached as if the decapitation was a lie. Zairkan restored his entire body nearly perfectly.
No matter how powerful a dragon is, it cannot survive if its head is severed. That is an undeniable fact. One might feel a bit suspicious about this, but Zairkan paid it no mind.
[Alright, I’ll admit. Mortal, you almost killed me. Yet it was merely a pathetic struggle like one of a bug.]
“You’ve already surpassed the level of a living being. What you have resembles a Demon more than anything. What on earth have you done?”
Despite the absurdity happening before him, Hans calmly questioned Zairkan. This was enough to secretly amaze even Zairkan. For a human, to remain this calm!
It was as if he were looking at a finely sharpened sword. A perfect metaphor Zairkan could express for someone he despised, especially a human. He laughed as he spoke.
[I made a deal with them. They seem to have toyed with my body, but I don’t mind. Thanks to that, I’ll be able to tear you apart.]
‘So it’s them again?!’
Hans felt the darkness closing in. A severed head reattaching? One could accept that after fighting Demons. But the biggest problem was without a doubt the cooldown.
Surprisingly, Hans hadn’t spent so much time at all. That was thanks to the Divine Sword. He merely took a bit of time to climb up and sever the head. But there was indeed a cooldown.
So, from Hans’s perspective, he had to buy as much time as possible due to the cooldown. And he had successfully completed that objective. Zairkan, thinking the story was over, moved his body.
[It was enjoyable, trash. Thanks to you, I’m able to grow stronger. With this power… I can even kill the Lord and his daughter.]
Zairkan’s arrogance was piercing the sky. He believed he had transcended death. The proof? Even after losing his head, here he was, resurrected.
However, logically, transcending death should be impossible. Sure, one could escape through tricks, but winning against death is nearly impossible. Hans knew this truth.
“No, I can confidently say. You will die here.”
Hans deliberately pointed his index finger at Zairkan. This was a classic way to draw aggro. Naturally, Zairkan, annoyed by this impudent behavior, felt rage. The dragon opened its mouth.
Inside, blazing flames began to engulf everything. Eventually, the dragon’s breath of flames incinerated stone and air alike. Zairkan burst into laughter.
Just then.
Hans stopped time.
A peculiar way of colliding his index and middle fingers.
In a world where time had completely stopped, Hans moved alone. Even with a severed head, he didn’t die. This must mean the source of regeneration lay elsewhere.
Should he call it a core? If he could eliminate that, he could definitely take this creature down. For a brief moment, Hans pondered where he could strike to kill. But his deliberation didn’t last long.
After all, he could just slice everything away.
Hans gripped the Divine Sword tightly in his hand.
*
The Divine Sword has a will.
Her will was surprisingly strong and firm. Although being excessively prideful was a flaw, she began to correct that flaw by meeting her current master.
A true swordsman does not rely on their weapon. That’s true, isn’t it? Those who only depend on superior weapons can’t be called true knights. Even the Divine Sword couldn’t dare to refute Hans’s words.
However, she didn’t acknowledge it from the start. Initially, she was too flustered and became a burden to herself. In truth, the Divine Sword didn’t fully trust Hans from the beginning.
Could this man possibly have such skill?
It was true he passed the trials of the ruins. But could it just be a stroke of luck?
Moreover, as he utterly ignored her, her suspicions about Hans increased. How could he so thoroughly disregard her? Could it be that he truly couldn’t hear her?
But those doubts didn’t last long. The Divine Sword was able to watch Hans’s actions closely. The Guardian of Mud was an incredibly powerful monster, a benchmark from the era the sword belonged to.
Yet Hans was not merely strong. Against the Guardian of Mud, he saw through its essence, willing to lend support for it to regain its pride.
‘He’s not just strong. He possesses the true virtues of a hero.’
Think about it. He was in a battlefield, risking his life. In a situation where he could easily lose his head, could he show mercy to someone who had become a pathetic monster?
Logically, there would be no reason to do so. No matter how much of a hero he had been in the past, all he was now was a monster that devours people. In such a situation, why would he bother fighting honorably?
Of course, it’s an action worthy of being hailed as heroic. But strategically, it was absolutely nonsensical. Yet he fought his opponent with proper etiquette, showing no hesitation.
And at that moment, the Divine Sword witnessed it. The strength Hans possessed. He embodied both heroism and overwhelming might. A speed that even the sword itself couldn’t comprehend, cleaving through enemies.
Truly, this was swordsmanship that had reached its peak. But what drew the Divine Sword’s heart even more was Hans’s character. He gave away what he obtained so easily.
‘Child, you don’t have a name yet. The only one who can give you a name is your owner.’
‘But… what if that owner is a bad person?’
‘I foresee you will become the sword of a hero. Though he mimics noble appearances, he is quite the lonely one.’
‘……’
‘I hope you can become his friend, left alone in this world.’
At that time, the sword couldn’t understand those words, but now she understands. Just looking at the figure before her is proof enough. Dragons, the strongest race on Earth, whether past or present.
Especially the black dragon before her. The sword had witnessed him before. Dragons that have lived since the mythical age till now. Monsters that attacked and devoured countless races. He was called the Wyrm.
Yet, in the face of such a monstrous Wyrm, he did not back down and fought fiercely. Against a monster that doesn’t die even when its head is severed. Could it be that he feels no fear at all?
[Cough, unbelievable…!! Me… by a bug…!!!]
Once again, the Divine Sword could not sense it. She just came to her senses to find the Wyrm from the mythical age shredded to pieces. Hans quietly severed the Wyrm’s heart, ending its breath.
And thus, the Wyrm lost its life.
And he stood proudly above it, witnessing the demise.
That figure was truly that of a hero from legends.
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