---
The dragon's body convulsed violently after the corrupted strike of "Lightning Detonator " detonated, as if its very bones were screaming from within.
The purple threads that had been ceaselessly draining its life began to writhe madly, pulsing erratically, releasing a muffled hum—like the scream of a living being being slowly slaughtered.
Some of those threads could not endure it… they shattered outright, scattering like luminous ash before fading away.
That alone was enough to bring the dragon down.
Its massive body crashed to the ground—not like a defeated king…
but like a wounded beast, panting, gasping, its colossal ribs heaving up and down violently.
Yet this was not a fall of weakness.
It was a fall of… liberation.
Arthur felt it instantly, before the system spoke, before the dragon even moved.
He felt it in his bones, in his blood, in the heavy sensation that suddenly crushed his chest.
As if the dead air… had begun to reclaim its voice.
As if the ground itself—the lifeless purple ash—trembled in fear of something about to rise.
The dragon slowly lifted its head.
This time, the sight was not a display of power.
It was like witnessing something that should never rise… rising anyway.
Its golden eyes no longer held only mocking contempt.
There was something else.
Ancient rage…
rage that had not cooled with time, but had congealed.
And the instinct of a king who was never slain as everyone believed—
but restrained, suppressed, and forced to kneel.
The system suddenly shouted, its voice no longer calm:
[Arthur… by destroying those threads, you've granted it an enormous surge of power!]
Arthur clenched his teeth.
He cursed under his breath as blood trickled from his mouth.
"Even after using every last shred of power I have…"
he said hoarsely.
"I couldn't even weaken it."
The dragon slightly opened its mouth.
It was not a roar.
It was a single exhale.
Yet even so… the purple ash surged in all directions like an invisible shockwave.
Distant walls trembled, the ground cracked, and everything that had been still… moved.
The dragon spoke in a low voice, heavier than every blow Arthur had endured since entering this floor:
"You… filth… broke my chains."
Arthur's heart trembled for a moment.
Not from fear.
But from a horrifying realization…
that he had made a mistake that could be fatal.
The dragon stood.
It stood despite the restraints still coiling around its body, despite the threads that pulsed and tried to drag it back to its knees.
Its colossal muscles tightened, and the golden veins beneath its gleaming scales began to swell, throb, and pulse with dangerous heat.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this day?"
The dragon's voice carried the bitterness of thousands of years.
"These conduits… they are what feed my master."
"For ages, I awaited his return…"
Then it tilted its head slightly and stared at Arthur.
"And you… O corrupt human… came to sever the only cord to his revival?"
It raised a wing.
The wing itself bled royal light from between its scales—dense, distorted, and terrifying.
"I will tear you apart…"
it said with lethal calm.
"Even if this entire world burns."
---
The purple threads tried to seize it again.
But they were no longer stable.
They trembled… like frightened living creatures.
Then—
Thump.
A heartbeat echoed from within the dragon's chest.
The ground shook violently.
Thump.
Colossal walls cracked, black fissures spreading across them like dead veins.
The system spoke rapidly:
[Rapid analysis: the dragon is releasing heart pulses as a wave-type attack—if it hits you directly—]
The sentence never finished.
Because the third beat erupted.
And in that moment…
the entire world melted.
It was not an explosion.
Not pressure.
It was an invisible wave… pure force, without flame, without sound.
Pure royal energy.
It struck Arthur directly.
He wasn't blown away.
He didn't fall.
He—
disappeared.
A single instant later… he reappeared sprawled on the ground far behind his previous position, as if ripped from space itself and violently stitched elsewhere.
The system screamed:
[Severe damage detected!
Heart: temporary arrhythmia
Lungs: sudden constriction
Consciousness: unstable
Internal bleeding: escalating!]
"Damn it—!"
Arthur spat thick, heavy black blood.
Black veins began pulsing around his eyes.
The pain in his head intensified.
So intense that his forehead began to swell, to crack…
as if something was trying to force its way out.
And the voice in his head…
was no longer a whisper.
[You fool… let me out.]
[You have no idea who stands behind this idiot.]
He didn't even have time to lift his head.
The dragon leapt at him.
It leapt—
its colossal body moving with illogical speed, defying everything Arthur knew about mass and power.
It descended like a mountain falling from the sky.
Arthur barely avoided it.
Or rather… his shadows dragged him away at the last second.
The shockwave from the dragon's feet striking the ground shattered the earth itself.
A wave of purple ash erupted outward.
Arthur was thrown two meters away, landing on his back, gasping, his chest rising and falling violently.
The system spoke with genuine alarm:
[Arthur!
If it gets close again—]
"Shut up!!"
Arthur screamed, clutching his head with both hands.
"AAAAAAAH!"
"My head… both of you, stop!"
"My head is going to explode!"
He writhed in unbearable pain.
His skull burned as if melting, as if something was being forcibly reshaped along his forehead.
Ding.
[Sudden surge in mental power detected…
10.1%…
13.9%…
18.37%…]
He dragged his hand across his eye…
his fingers sinking into it from sheer agony.
The darkness around him coiled like a primal shield—dense, suffocating…
protecting its master.
Shadows stretched behind him like black fangs and lunged at the dragon's legs.
The dragon didn't dodge.
It didn't need to.
When the shadows touched its scales—
they burned.
Melted.
Vanished.
The dragon spoke softly, terrifyingly:
"Corruption-based power…?
Pathetic."
Arthur could no longer fight with reason.
He stood.
His eyes were ruined.
Shadows and a corrupted barrier wrapped around his body.
Berserk ignited within him.
His muscles trembled as corrupted mana surged through his blood like poison.
And then…
a massive golden eye opened in the center of his forehead.
He lifted his head and looked at the dragon, which froze—shocked by the transformation.
---
Arthur raised his hand.
He injected Destruction Flame.
It burst forth like a newborn spark, then condensed, solidified, becoming a sphere resembling molten metal.
A single point…
pulsing like a boiling black heart.
The dragon sensed danger.
For the first time… it felt fear.
Its primal instincts screamed to flee.
But pride restrained it.
It began raising its wings to gather energy for a counterattack—
but the purple threads trembled.
And it felt a sword stab through it from nowhere.
The pain was so intense that the attack it was about to unleash… vanished.
When it tried to look toward the gate to identify the cause—
a massive wave of corruption swept past.
It saw it.
It felt it.
That primal fear—the kind that whispers: you will not die easily.
Because…
behind Arthur…
loomed enormous golden eyes.
Shadows gathered around them, forming a faceless black visage.
The dragon lifted its wings—not to block…
but to flee.
A voice stopped it:
"So… you wish to run after realizing who stands before you?"
The dragon turned back to Arthur, who was smiling with absolute malice.
The golden eyes behind him fully formed into a faceless black visage.
The dragon's voice trembled:
"An… Upper Lord…!!!"
It wasn't a question.
It was certainty.
It tried to speak… to justify itself…
but the voice spoke first:
"No… there's no need to say anything.
I understand your situation."
"Your power is currently reserved for the ritual to revive one of the Abyssal Lords.
But he's not truly a lord… merely a child created by the Abyss. And you dare try to summon such a weakling instead of a true Upper Lord?!"
The last words carried unmistakable rage.
The flame in Arthur's hand—or whatever he had become—turned white, ominously so.
The dragon knew.
It knew it was finished.
In a moment of absolute despair…
it fired a plasma projectile from its mouth.
A foolish move.
Born of desperation.
Black smoke instantly swirled through the area, devouring everything—
the gate,
the dragon,
even the behemoth.
Then—
the attack froze.
Everything froze.
Arthur spoke:
"So, fallen slave… you intended to strike your master?"
"I wonder… should I call you brave… or merely a massive lump of stupidity."
The dragon's body began to swell.
The golden veins that once gave it majesty darkened, turning black and grotesque.
Then—
ZZZZZZZZ.
A single buzzing sound rang out.
In an instant, a hole the size of a football appeared in the dragon's chest.
Whether it felt that attack or not… it sensed another.
It shifted its gaze downward and saw a colossal three-headed beast—
the right head biting clean through the lower half of its body.
White fire erupted from the hole.
Fire that made the dragon feel as if it were dying thousands of times.
Not because of heat—
but because of cold.
A cold more agonizing than burning.
And Arthur laughed.
A laugh that shook the Void itself.
He raised his hand.
Everything stopped.
The dragon collapsed disgracefully, trembling, half a body left, stripped of all dignity.
Its body began to regenerate—slowly, so slowly that one might not notice.
But Arthur raised his hand again…
and the shadows reconstructed the severed parts.
As he moved to approach—
the purple gate ignited.
And a woman emerged.
The moment she stepped out, her form became clear.
Crimson-white hair.
A single horn on the side of her forehead.
Crimson eyes devoid of life.
She surveyed her surroundings… then her gaze fell upon Arthur.
She knelt with solemn grace.
And said:
"I greet the Upper Lord of the Abyss."
---
(It was probably the worst chapter I've ever written because of all the drafts.)