Chapter 2: The Day the Dragon Slept (2)
Those were truly joyful days.
After joining Dragon Lair, the dragon-themed guild within the Twelve Guardians alliance, I suddenly found myself surrounded by a flood of new friends.
I even got some playful praise for stubbornly sticking with the so-called "failed race" of dragons, managing to turn it into a symbol of romance and coolness.
Becoming the guild's mascot of sorts met the hidden conditions for unlocking the special class Dragon Lord, and I was even used as a sort of "celebrity mascot" for the guild.
Life was good.
It was the golden age of Yggdrasil.
A time when cash items hadn't yet flooded the game, when there weren't many competing VR titles, and when the world was still overflowing with things to explore, conquer, and adventure through.
A time when the Twelve Beast Kings of the Twelve Guardians were still considered legendary.
A time when gods and demons, skeletons and warriors, dragons and angels, all danced together in a living, breathing fantasy.
Every single day was filled with excitement—raiding powerful enemies, tearing through entire dungeons, waging massive wars between top guilds. Pure, unfiltered fun.
I remember flying my guildmates to a dungeon high above the clouds—where teleportation and flight magic didn't work.
I remember the thrill of carving a straight line through enemy ranks with my dragon breath during massive wars—thousands versus thousands—between the top-tier guilds.
One unforgettable memory: I joined the World Festival's No-Item Battle alone, as a dragon.
People screamed:
"That's broken!"
"Why is there still a dragon player!?"
"Are we seriously supposed to fight that with no gear?!"
The battle quickly turned into an impromptu no-item raid, and I got to feel like a world boss facing a swarm of players in their underwear with only their bare fists.
There was that time I wrestled King Simba, the Tiger King, in his beastman form—sparking a massive gambling event.
There was that ridiculous raffle where the prize was a "Dragon World Tour Travel Package."
I remember sneaking into worlds outside the Nine Realms—built solely for event purposes—and throwing a grand festival.
I remember invading Niflheim with the goal of taking down Kuyoyosekaigu, the World-Eater and final boss of the game… and getting wiped out.
So many memories—truly, so many things happened.
But, like autumn leaves falling one by one, those joyful days slowly came to an end.
The once-bustling game grew quiet.
Players disappeared, one after another, until everything fell silent.
Yggdrasil may have been the first virtual reality game, but it wasn't the only one.
As newer games with more advanced VR engines were released, Yggdrasil gradually faded into obsolescence.
Players left, and few ever came back.
Even the Twelve Guardians, once the top-tier alliance in Jotunheim, with thousands of members—over the ten years, their numbers dwindled into double digits.
And that was six months ago.
Now?
Only one remains.
Me.
"There's no one left—"
The voice echoed powerfully from my giant jaws, reverberating through the empty temple.
A colossal sanctuary, larger than most real-world buildings.
Once affectionately called the Grand Composite Temple, it housed the twelve guardian statues representing the Twelve Zodiac guilds.
This place had been the residence of the twelve guild masters, their vice leaders, and their dedicated support NPCs.
It also stored each guild's treasury, and served as the venue for major in-game events or alliance meetings.
Now… it's empty.
The NPCs are still here. The guild vaults are still here—but most are nearly barren.
When the players left, they either sold or discarded everything they owned. Even in decline, Yggdrasil's items still had value at the time.
As they quit, many guildmates cashed out their gear and currency.
The guild master? He sold off the entire guild vault in one go, saying it would fund their final in-person meetup.
I couldn't attend—not with this paralyzed body—but I watched the video they sent me. Their final party looked like a blast.
Some left their gear to me. Others passed it down to their support NPCs, saying cool lines like,
"Though I'm leaving, my spirit remains in the guild."
We all laughed at the cheesiness, but that was the point—we laughed together. And then they left, never to return.
"What a joke… All of it."
The lined-up NPCs, of course, said nothing.
They still wear the gear of their masters—but they're not players.
Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, I swung my massive tail in anger—then regretted it immediately.
The twelve support NPCs, all at max level (Lv. 100), were sent flying like bowling pins.
They slammed into the temple walls, only to slowly return to their original positions, as programmed.
Watching them return, I couldn't bring myself to lash out again.
Instead, I simply hung my massive head low in silence.
The Guild Alliance – The Twelve Guardians.
In Yggdrasil, many guilds had formed temporary alliances to increase their strength, but never before—or after—had twelve guilds united to form such a massive coalition.
There had been an incident where eight guilds teamed up to subjugate Ainz Ooal Gown, the notorious evil-aligned heteromorphic guild based in Helheim.
But after their failed attempt, that alliance quickly collapsed.
The Twelve Guardians, however, remained united for nearly ten years.
And each of those twelve guilds wasn't small. Even the smallest—Diny Guild (Rat)—had around 150 members. At its peak, the combined guild members across all twelve easily exceeded three thousand. The number of NPCs supporting those guild members was roughly the same.
There was a time when the Twelve Guardians held the center of Jotunheim, ruling an entire world.
They were even referred to as the Twelve Kingdoms at one point.
They governed worlds and dungeons, made their own laws, and ruled over both users and NPCs.
During Yggdrasil's golden age, the Twelve Guardians were effectively their own nation.
Eventually, they negotiated with the GMs and were officially recognized as the first player-established nation in the game.
A new "guild nation" system was implemented, and copycat guild nations sprang up like weeds afterward.
But now… even that has come to an end.
The NPCs still remain, but the players who once commanded and led them? They're gone.
He—I—am the last one. The only guild member left.
The last guildmaster.
What could one person possibly do?
Last month, the total number of active players across all servers fell to just three digits.
And on that day, the number of members remaining in my guild was one.
The last guildmate I saw was about a month ago: Bunny Girl, the King of the Rabbit Guild. She was one of the last remaining Twelve Kings.
At first, I thought she came by to chat for old time's sake.
But it turned out she was there to loot what was left in her personal guild vault and sell it off.
I felt disappointed. Why bother selling off worthless items from a dying game?
Maybe just to cover the cost of a drink or two?
When she saw I was still here, she looked surprised… then said nothing and left.
Since then, a few more people have shown up. But none of it was heartwarming.
One guy tried to grief the place, saying, "If it's all ending anyway, I'll destroy it myself!"
Another tried to sneak into the Grand Temple saying, "I just want to take some screenshots."
Over time, I became the only one left to deal with the occasional visitor—or intruder.
But now, even those people have stopped coming.
I'm left in solitude, drowning in loneliness, unable to leave.
For me, Yggdrasil wasn't just a game over the past ten years. It was my life.
When I was left half-paralyzed and incapable of doing anything in the real world, this game gave me a second chance.
Every day, I would wake up, log into Yggdrasil, and spend my time wandering aimlessly through the temple, or flying over the sky above the capital of our massive guild nation.
But there was nothing left.
The NPCs remained motionless in their places. They still listened to my commands—but in the end, they were just NPCs.
Eventually, I stopped even leaving the temple.
Having someone—anyone—left to talk to in chat was the only comfort I had.
There were still a few hardcore players hanging on to Yggdrasil, people who couldn't let go.
People like me, who had lived their lives here.
And so, we would spend each day exchanging idle chat messages.
— Ikarus-sama, it's dead quiet again today. Not a soul in sight.
— Same here, Momonga-sama. Even though I'm floating in the sky, it feels so lonely. I think there are maybe seven people left besides me, but they're all off doing their own thing. Feels like I'm being excluded, y'know? Can I report this for harassment or something?
— Sky? I'm underground! Everyone's so mean. They could've at least left their characters behind. But no—they logged in, deleted them right in front of me, and left. Isn't that just cruel?
— My guildmates are all gone, too. The only ones left are thousands of NPCs. Just me and them now. A guildmaster from another guild came by recently—I thought he wanted to talk, but he just cleaned out the guild vault and ran off.
…Honestly, you should just become king of Yggdrasil.
Yeah, that's how it was.
But even they are gone now.
At some point, they stopped replying altogether.
Sometimes I'd see them log in on the activity list—but they didn't answer my chats anymore.
I wondered why… but deep down, I already knew.
No one wants to admit they're the only one left.
But even so, we couldn't let go.
So here I am, logging in every single day, reliving bittersweet memories of happier times.
It's… unbearably sad.
"But now—even that's about to end."
Yggdrasil is shutting down.
As the player count dwindled, the developers flooded the game with cash items to stay afloat.
But eventually, they couldn't support the dwindling player base any longer.
They made the announcement:
The servers will be shut down.
It just so happened to be the end of the year, so the developers tossed out a hastily made, absurdly overpriced cash shop item as a "year-end event"—and then, just like that, announced the end.
At this point, I didn't even have the energy to complain.
Ten years of joy, one day after another. But now… I was tired. All I could do was sit on the lonely throne of this deserted temple, my gaze drowsily drifting across the puppet-like NPCs, and quietly await the end.
"Not much time left now…"
Maybe an hour?
I glanced at the digital clock, which now pointed to 11:00, then slumped down, my massive body leaning against the floor.
Twelve NPCs stood before me—each one representing one of the Zodiac signs, from Rat to Pig.
Beastfolk characters, uniquely customized by each guildmaster to their liking, now stood in silence.
They had been launched into the air earlier when I lashed out, but now they stood quietly again, unflinching, as if nothing had happened.
What would happen to them when the game ended?
These beings, cherished by their creators for over a decade—would they simply vanish, reduced to mere lines of data?
Just rigid programs with no soul… or so I thought.
But curiosity got the better of me. I opened each of their profile windows.
One by one, twelve long configuration logs unfurled in front of me like endless scrolls. Some were short enough to skim, but others were incredibly elaborate—so long I had to scroll for minutes.
It made sense—these were masterpieces, crafted with great care by their guildmasters, each designed to support a major guild.
So much effort must've gone into them.
I scanned through the texts like I was reading a novel, then added one final line before closing each one.
After all, the only guildmaster left… was me. The only guild member, the last one standing.
[They are all mine.]
That was the line I added.
All of this… belongs to me.
Like a dragon in myth, like a creature from fiction—obsessed with hoarding—greedy to the end, I made that selfish declaration.
And with a faint, self-mocking laugh at my own cringe-worthy dramatic flair, I lay down on the floor.
At Ancient Dragon Level 5, my body was massive—tens of meters long. I curled my tail around myself and rested in the center of the Grand Temple's plaza.
Only thirty minutes left, I thought… and slowly closed my eyes, feeling sleep creeping in.
I wondered: What will I do after this game ends?
The compensation money in the bank was still untouched.
A few years ago, I had stumbled into a successful investment in cryptocurrency with some old guildmates, giving me even more financial security.
With minimal spending, even just living off dividends from the corporate bank investments would be enough.
Maybe I could start a new game.
I didn't know if there would ever be a Yggdrasil II, but I heard a similar fantasy-themed VR game called Fantasy & World was doing quite well.
If this ends… maybe I'll try playing as a dragon again.
Ah—
That's right. I still had that.
Well, it's not like anyone would care if I used it now, at the very end.
With my eyes closed, I imagined myself as the strongest dragon—the glorious days of the past, those joyful years.
A faint shimmer of light.
A ticklish sensation across my skin. But nothing significant.
Back in the day, using things like this would cause a GM to appear and scold you, but…
Would they even show up now?
I chuckled quietly at the thought.
If the others knew I had just casually used something we all once considered a sacred treasure of the guild…
I wonder what kind of faces they'd make.
Now, there were fewer than five minutes left until the servers shut down.
But for some reason… I was sleepy.
So sleepy, I doubted I'd stay awake until the very end.
But maybe that wouldn't be so bad—falling asleep and meeting the end of the world in my dreams.
And when I wake up, I'll start something new… with a fresh heart.
60 seconds, maybe?
Maybe I'll hold out just a bit longer.
50 seconds… Just enough time to close my eyes right at the final second.
40 seconds… Goodbye, everyone. I guess this is the last moment I'll spend with you.
30 seconds… Should I have done something more? I feel a strange sense of regret, despite not thinking of anything specific.
20 seconds… I don't know why, but I feel sad. Like I might cry.
10 seconds… But… I'm just so tired. I really want to sleep.
5 seconds… 4… 3… 2… 1…
"Yes… this is the end."
"Let me sleep—a deep, long sleep… long enough to forget the past ten years…"
I closed my eyes. And then—
I felt nothing.
I was pulled into a deep slumber.
...
THUD.
The great dragon closed his eyes.
The sole ruler of the kingdom, the one who had once declared everything his own, had fallen asleep.
A single tear rolled from his eye, soaking into the pristine white marble beneath him.
In front of him, twelve retainers who had stood motionless for so long… slowly opened their eyes.
Rat. Ox. Tiger. Rabbit. Dragon. Snake. Horse. Goat. Monkey. Rooster. Dog. Pig.
Twelve beastfolk, each representing a sign of the Zodiac, quietly threw themselves down before their slumbering master, offering the highest gesture of respect.
For years—decades—they had watched him.
He had raged at them, grieved before them, even blamed them.
But through it all, he stayed. He ruled. He protected.
To them, he was a great master.
Now that master had closed his eyes, weary from it all.
And now, it was their duty not to disturb his sleep—
but to watch over it.
...
Silently, the twelve finished their bows and turned toward the outside world.
Their master had grown weary from the ages and fallen into slumber.
So now, they must prepare—for the day their master awakens once more.
With thoughts of the glorious day yet to come, the twelve beastfolk stepped out of the temple without a sound, careful not to disturb the dragon's dream.
Thus began the quiet stirrings of a small yet vast kingdom—hidden in a corner of another world, waiting, silently, in the shadows.
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