It was slaughter.
No—worse. It was judgment.
The radiant magic circles drawn by the awakened were crushed beneath dragonbone claws. The runes they'd etched into the floor—defensive circles, teleports, heals—flickered once… and died.
The Dragon King moved like inevitability. Not fast. Not slow. Just unstoppable.
"Draconic Howl: Voice of the End."
He let loose a guttural roar—low and deep, yet echoing through the bones of every living thing in the chamber. The sound alone shattered skulls. Three B-Ranks collapsed instantly, blood leaking from their eyes. An A-Rank's mana core burst inside his chest—he screamed once, then fell, hollow-eyed and twitching.
The wyverns descended next.
Skeletal wings flapped, sending blades of wind cutting across the tomb. Dozens of undead dragons surged forth, jaws glowing with acidic flame.
"Hold the line! Hold—"
A massive tail crushed the last of the B-Rank formation.
One by one, the proud ranks fell.
A-Rank mage: throat snapped in the jaws of a bone wyrm.S-Rank assassin: caught mid-stealth by a flick of the Dragon King's tail.Veylor, the mighty hammer-user: burned alive, screaming as blue fire consumed him even through a full-body mana shield.
Only Arin remained.
Bloodied. Breathing ragged. Staff cracked.
She looked up, tears streaking her cheeks. "You… monster…"
The Dragon King tilted his head.
"I am no monster.I am a god returning to claim what was taken."
Arin screamed and released her final spell.
"Starfall Arcanum: Judgment Eclipse!!"
Every last ounce of mana she had exploded into the heavens—hundreds of golden lights raining from above. It was beautiful. Blinding. It should have ended a kingdom.
The Dragon King raised a single bony finger.
And with a casual swipe—
"Cancel."
The spell was erased.
Not blocked. Not resisted. Erased.
Arin's eyes went wide.
Then a scythe pierced through her heart.
She gasped—once—blood bubbling up her throat.
"Thank you… for entertaining me."
Her body hit the ground.
Silence returned.
Only the crackle of mana drifted in the air, and the soft rustle of gold under claw.
Dozens of elite hunters.
All dead.
And Rovan… still breathed.
Barely.
His body was half-crushed under a fallen pillar, ribs broken, vision swimming in red. His left arm was dislocated, and a jagged shard of stone pierced his side.
Blood soaked the ground beneath him.
His ears rang with the screams of the dead. His heart barely beat.
He wasn't even a fighter.
Just a porter.
And yet he had survived… longer than most.
"You…"
A shadow loomed over him.
The Dragon King stared down, the blue fire of his eyes glowing with something unreadable.
"Why do you still breathe?"
Roman's lips trembled.
He tried to move.
Failed.
"Is it defiance… or fate?"
The scythe rose above him.
Rovan couldn't even scream.
And then…
Silence fell again.
The Dragon King's roar echoed into stillness. Bodies littered the ancient floor—melted armor, torn limbs, weapons snapped like twigs. The air reeked of ash and old blood. Mana had burned the very walls, now covered in glowing cracks and ancient glyphs.
Roman lay broken against a pile of stone debris, half-buried, barely breathing.
One eye was swollen shut. His ribs were crushed. Blood spilled from his mouth. His left arm hung limp, bones shattered. His consciousness flickered like a candle in a storm.
He wasn't a hero.
He wasn't even a warrior.
He was just a porter.
And yet… here he was, the last one alive. Why?
"Why me…?" he croaked, breath ragged.
"Why not take me first…?"
He coughed blood.
Tears welled up, not from pain—but fury.
"You took everything."
His voice cracked.
"My father… my sister… my mother… all because of your damned gates. You gods… playing with us like dolls."
He clenched a fist.
"I did everything right! I lived with kindness… I worked hard… I NEVER hurt anyone!"
His voice broke into a guttural scream, throat raw.
"IF I HAD POWER… I'D KILL YOU ALL MYSELF!"
At that moment—the dungeon pulsed.
Not with light.
With something darker.
Older.
A system notification slammed into his mind like a thunderclap.
[Divine Interference Detected][Candidate Identified: Lee Rovan — Hatred Index: 100%][Trigger Condition Met — The Last Will of the Dragon God Responds][SSS-RANK CLASS AWAKENING INITIATED]
The air trembled.
His body glowed faintly with dark, draconic sigils. Bone-piercing energy wrapped around his broken frame, not healing him with holy magic—but stitching him together with death itself.
A final prompt flickered before his eyes:
Name: Roman ElhartClass: SSS-Rank — Dragon NecromancerLevel: 1HP: 170 / 2,500Mana: 6,600 / 6,600Strength: 20Intelligence: 115Agility: 40Endurance: 18Death Mana Affinity: 98%Undead Dragon Command: 1 / 5 (Upgradable)Available Summon Slots: 1
Skills Unlocked:— Raise Undead Dragon (Lv. 1)— Draconic Soul Pact (Passive)— Black Breath of the Fallen (Locked)— Gravebind (Locked)
Unique Trait Gained: "Heir of the Dragon God"
Dragons of death shall recognize your presence. Divine dragons shall fear your future.
The moment Roman's eyes opened, they burned with black flame.
Above him, the Dragon King, still shrouded in fire and bone, stepped forward—his massive skull tilting downward.
His voice boomed like an earthquake:
"That power… That scent... It's him."
Roman trembled, not in fear—but awe.
"You… are no god," the Dragon King growled. "Yet you carry the mark of one who defied us."
The room darkened again as the Dragon King slowly lowered his massive form. For a terrifying moment, Roman thought the creature would finish him—but instead…
The Dragon King knelt.
"You are too weak to command me now. But your soul carries the echo of Aurezmorath, the Dragon God who fell for the weak."
"Become worthy… Grow strong… And when the time is right—I will rise at your side, O Tyrant of the Sky."
He raised a single, gnarled claw and pointed to a corpse behind him—once a mighty wyvern, twice the size of a horse, crowned with ancient horns and plated in bone.
"Until then… take him. Valgrim, King of the Bone Wyverns. He shall serve as your first."
And then—another gift.
A great obsidian scythe floated before Roman, adorned with molten red runes and wrapped in a chain of sealed dragon bone.
"This was once mine—Voidrend, Reaper of Flame. Its true form is sealed by time and power… but with each victory, it will awaken."
Roman slowly reached out, trembling.
System Prompt:
[Undead Summon Bound: Bone Wyvern King — Valgrim (Lv. 35)][Artifact Gained: Legendary Weapon — Voidrend (Sealed)]Restriction: Unlocks 10% for every 5 class levels. Current Access: 10%]
The bones of the wyvern rattled and rose, black fire igniting in its sockets. It turned its massive skull toward Roman and lowered its head in submission.
Roman pulled himself to his feet, leaning on the scythe.
His body was wrecked.
His soul was newborn.
But the path ahead was clear.
"Gods… you started this game."
"Now it's my turn to play."