Chapter 85

"Hah... hah..."

The sky was yellow. Watching the morning sun rise, Woojin made a conscious effort to lift the [Pilgrim’s Cross] and press it to his chest.

[Foolish. A dragon's magic is not unholy. Even divine power cannot purify it. Why do you keep using that?]

Bensina looked down at Woojin as he asked.

"I just... want to live a little longer."

[How amusing. Someone who values his life is fighting me.]

"Heh-heh."

Not a single limb was uninjured. His potions had long since run out, and he looked up at Bensina through eyes that threatened to close at any moment.

"... Just kill me already."

[Strange words from someone who was pressing a cross to his chest to live a moment longer.]

"It's been three days. Everyone in Thorn Bach should have escaped by now."

Woojin drew a deep breath. The wind scattered the black smoke blanketing the ground.

Was it the Dark Zone's influence? The air he breathed smelled different, as though space itself had been divided. No, it really had. At some point, he had been cut off from the outside world, as if quarantined. He couldn't even send Messages.

[You cannot send a Message due to an unknown influence.]

No matter how many times he tried, all he received was a red warning window.

'They're still alive, right...?'

Woojin thought of Peron and Weden, who had gone to rescue the villagers. As players, they could resurrect even if they died, but what he really wanted to ask them was something else: about Ruen and the others. He was worried whether they had made it safely out of the Dark Zone.

'Not that I'm in any position to worry about someone else.'

With a bitter smile, Woojin slowly rose.

[What are you trying to do?]

"I told you to kill me, but you won't. That leaves me no choice but to fight again."

[...]

As Woojin staggered to his feet and pointed his sword at him, Bensina looked incredulous.

[Do you think I have indulged you for three days because I couldn't kill you?]

"Whether you've kept me alive to toy with me or not doesn't matter. What matters is that I've done everything I can for now."

[You admit defeat?]

"That's right," Woojin answered. Strangely, his face looked unburdened.

"You really are the strongest species on earth. As things stand, I can't think of a way to win."

Bensina gazed at him.

[They say Outlanders do not fear death. Is that why? You are the strangest human I have ever seen.]

"Of course we do. We certainly take it more lightly than the people of this continent... but Outlanders fear death too."

[Why? You can resurrect at the shrine.]

Woojin felt strange. This was only a game, yet talking with Bensina made him feel as though he really were in another world.

'Exchanging questions and answers with a program...'

He shook his head, finding it absurd himself.

"We lose things when we die too. It's not just dropping equipment. We're robbed of the time and effort we invested in becoming stronger," Woojin said, surveying his surroundings.

"Contrary to what you think, our time is limited too. Recovering lost experience takes that much more time."

[So your time is just as finite...]

"So look around. There's no one here. If they feared death, they would have kept trying."

[A weak excuse.]

"Yes, humans are weak by nature. That's why people like this place. They can become stronger."

RUMBLE...

The Black Dragon slowly raised his head and looked down at Woojin.

[Is that why you dreamed the futile dream of standing above dragons?]

"Standing above dragons?"

Without realizing it, Woojin tightened his grip on his sword.

"My dream isn't anything that small."

He burst forward, squeezing out the last of his strength as he ran toward the Black Dragon.

[Then what is it?]

"Going home."

Bensina tilted his head, as though he didn't understand.

"Raaaaaah!"

Desperate though he was, he was utterly weak. With all his stamina spent, even running seemed a struggle.

[... Slow.]

To Bensina, the sword coming at him was nothing more than a futile struggle.

* * *

[The Royal Guard Knights are establishing a forward base.]

[The Warlord's banner has been raised.]

[The Warlord's effects apply within the base.]

"Come on! Hurry up!"

Having traveled through the portal, Warlord Keldian began establishing a position as soon as he reached the Holy King's Knights led by Charlo.

"Thank you for making the long journey."

"Think nothing of it."

As the two exchanged greetings, a group entered the base.

"Just what I'd expect of the Warlord! A fine strategy."

Tachif, captain of the Naga Mercenary Company, shouted as he led three wolves on leashes. A hundred mercenaries followed him, and beside them a massive magic cannon was being hauled in on a cart.

The royal guard knights watched the mercenary company enter the position with disapproving eyes.

"Thank you for your efforts," Victor, commander of the magic cannon unit, said to Keldian, discreetly taking in the knights' mood.

"Hardly. The Black Dragon's attention is elsewhere, so we finished more easily than expected."

"Then it was... true? The story about someone fighting the Black Dragon?"

"I heard it was an Outlander... Could Kerga of the Phoenix Corps have come?"

"No. A warrior called Khan, apparently. Lord Alteon, a high-ranking devotee of the Third Holy See, said he would look into him for us."

Standing among the commanders, Alteon bowed.

'All the big shots are here. This really is getting bigger and bigger...'

"As the Warlord said, the person currently facing the Black Dragon is an Outlander like myself... but we have little concrete information yet. It seems he arrived on the central continent only recently."

At Alteon's words, the commanders inside the tent could not hide their disbelief.

"He only recently came to the central continent?"

"And someone like that is fighting the Black Dragon..."

"Surely he doesn't have the Sword Emperor's skill? To last three days against a dragon that annihilated entire raid teams with one blow..."

Alteon looked troubled by their questions.

"I believe the Black Dragon is going easy on him... though I don't know why. There is, however, word that he's the man who recently cleared the black fog."

"The black fog?"

"That explains it... He's the one who conquered the unexplored region that had remained shrouded in mystery for decades."

"I'm curious what sort of man he is."

Every commander expressed curiosity about Woojin.

'Well... he's certainly making a name for himself.'

Alteon smiled bitterly at their reactions. How many people struggled fiercely to establish connections with the higher-ups after coming to the central continent? Yet the most they usually managed was joining a single faction, as he had. Now a newcomer who had only just arrived was attracting the attention of powerful figures from every kingdom.

'Well... it is impressive.'

Alteon gazed at the battlefield.

Was lasting three days against the Black Dragon even possible in the first place?

'Who is he?'

He was envious, but curious too. It wasn't just him, dragged onto the battlefield against his will—everyone had thought fighting the Black Dragon was suicide.

'Anyway, my sister will go crazy when this news hits the community.'

Alteon shrugged as he thought of someone: Im Huijeong, administrator of the comprehensive gaming portal [In Game Star] and host of the popular program [Game Station]. She was his older sister.

'Should I tell her first, before she starts nagging me...?'

His deliberation was brief. Before he knew it, all the commanders had moved into the tent.

"We advance at midnight tonight. Sir Victor, have all the magic cannons fully charged by then."

"Understood."

"Tachif, lead your mercenaries in defending the magic cannons."

"Will do."

"Remember. Our enemy is the greatest creature in this world. We must not take this lightly."

"Understood," the commanders replied in unison.

They were all representatives of their respective kingdoms, but even among them, the Warlord stood out. His seniority also meant the other commanders tacitly followed his lead.

"Then... how should we contact the Outlander facing the Black Dragon?" Victor asked.

"There is no way. Perhaps it is the Dark Zone's influence, but something like a veil invisible to the naked eye surrounds the area, inside and out."

Keldian's response to the question was colder than expected.

"Unless we go into the Dark Zone ourselves, we cannot get word to him."

"Surely... you don't intend to fire the magic cannons anyway?"

"If it is unavoidable."

Keldian was adamant. Perhaps this was what a true knight looked like: someone who placed the safety of his kingdom and the continent above an individual's life.

"Besides, unlike us people of the continent, Outlanders have the blessing of the shrines. If we win, we will reward him accordingly."

Alteon could not argue with him. It was certainly true, but would they have reacted the same way if the person in there had been an NPC rather than a player? Seeing them take advantage of a player's death left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I'll go."

It happened then.

"Sir Charlo...?"

This had evidently caught Alteon off guard too; he stared at Charlo in bewilderment.

"Even an Outlander cannot be forced to sacrifice himself. Give me the signal, and I will go rescue him myself."

'He truly is... an Apostle of Rashin.'

Acting according to his faith without distinguishing between Outlanders and the people of the continent, Charlo lived up to the title of Apostle, the highest rank of paladin.

"Wouldn't that be too dangerous?"

"Rashin must have given me this in preparation for just such an occasion."

Charlo took something from inside his clothes: a stake painted gold. It was the [Immortal's Stake].

"Then... I leave it to you."

"Understood."

"By the way, has there been no word of reinforcements from the Kingdom of Bolton?"

"There has. We received word just a moment ago."

"Did we?"

"House Muren will be joining the battle. Their third son will lead the Blue Knights."

"The third son..."

The commanders had brightened at the mention of House Muren, a knightly house with a long history, but could not hide their disappointment upon hearing that it would be the third son.

"Unlike his two older brothers, I don't recall hearing anything remarkable about him..."

"Still, it is House Muren, after all."

"Hmm."

* * *

WHOOSH!

As the portal's light faded, a man slowly opened his eyes.

"Are you nervous?"

"Perhaps I am."

Standing before the portal, the man gazed at the battlefield and gave a faint laugh at the knight's question.

His skin was as white as though it had never seen sunlight. With his sunken eyes and dry, lifeless hair, he could have passed for someone who had spent days—no, months or years—locked away.

Zion Muren drew his cloak closed and took a small notebook from inside his clothes.

"Did you say the Knight of Glory would be participating in this battle?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm."

Nodding at the knight's answer, he slowly scanned the notes in his notebook.

[Immortal's Stake]

[Curse Demon's Brand]

[Camilla's Green Jade]

Beyond those entries, the notebook was densely filled with indecipherable characters.

"Let's be on our way."

He ran his tongue over his lips, as though savoring the prospect.