Genius Corpse-Collecting Warrior - Chapter 104

Nest Bartender (2)

[But it looks like he’s still unskilled in handling power.]

On the table. Bourbon said after seeing the flames and black burn marks blooming from his fingertips.

[Do you control the power of the dragon, or are you swallowed by the dragon’s blood?]

A light flashed in the vertically slit brown-green eyes. The magic that had already filled the bar swirled even more intensely.

The presence of Jinryong presses down on my shoulders and stimulates the dragon blood in my veins.

[Show me.]

Kyle Berkus Arben. The Dragon God’s first roar.

The moment when this ancient being, who had lived for a long time, one of only a handful of true dragons, opened his mouth and let out a war cry filled with the power of words.

Grumble!

The dark red dragon’s blood sparked against the sound.

Passyek –

Flames engulf the chair on which one was sitting.

After a moment, all that remained was a few handfuls of ash and briefly burned pieces of wood.

Naturally, as Dallan stands on his own two feet, dark red shimmers remain like footprints under his boots and begin to burn the floor.

Kurrrrrr……

Shaking walls. A crack in the ceiling where dust pours out.

The pillars and floor shook my body as if I was about to collapse at any moment.

In the background of chairs being knocked over and glasses and dishes being smashed, the two people were the only static thing.

A true dragon staring at a mortal with his arms folded, and the master of dragon blood who receives that gaze without fail.

Gurgling. Kwasik!

Even though neither of them made a single gesture, even the space began to distort as their magical powers became intertwined.

The first thing to go was bourbon.

[It was done.]

Seaaaa—

The magic power of the words that shook the bar ebbed away as if it had never happened at that single word.

The magic power that restores floors and tables that were burned during the disappearance, and returns all messy tables and furniture to their original condition.

This phenomenon, which could not be explained in the realm of simple spells, proved that the being in front of us was the true dragon, a mystery itself.

“Whoa.”

The pressure that had been stimulating the blood in his veins disappeared, and Dallon let out a small sigh.

He took a deep breath, calmed down the dragon blood, and grabbed the handle of the sword at his waist.

The holy sword began to tremble as if it had been waiting.

Bourbon looked at it curiously.

[Suppress the dragon blood’s self-consciousness with the power of the holy sword. What an ingenious measure. However, strictly speaking, it is only a temporary measure.]

“I know.”

Dallen tapped the handle of his sword and answered. He poured the remaining ice in the glass into his mouth and chewed it.

The heat in your mouth hasn’t gone away yet. The ice melted and disappeared in an instant rather than being chewed.

“That’s why I came here to get help.”

[My help?]

Bourbon asked. Dallen nodded.

“I want a vessel to contain the dragon’s power.”

***

Sienna’s office was visited after a long time when Bourbon suggested that she move to another office.

The newly brought furniture, including tables and sofas, as well as bookshelves and tea leaf containers showing signs of hand stains, were also in the same condition.

The reason why there is a gentle silence and the scent of tea, just like a few months ago, is probably thanks to the constant management of the bartender who took her place despite the owner’s absence.

Bourbon, who had placed a bottle of alcohol next to two teacups, saw Dallon sitting down on the sofa and spit out the first word of his reply.

[What a bold statement.]

Grumble.

The bartender’s fingertips. Alcohol is poured into the teacup instead of tea. Dallen asked back, thinking that Sienna would be shocked if she saw it.

“What do you mean?”

[Your request. A vessel to contain the power of a dragon doesn’t mean you want a mysterious body.]

“That’s right.”

Brown-green eyes frowned. Rather than being offended, the expression literally looks like he doesn’t understand.

[If it is difficult to create something from nothing, is there any need to say more about creating mystery from nothing?]

“Don’t worry about that. “I have the ingredients.”

[Hoo?]

The frowning eyes draw a strange arc. It was a variety that could not be found on his usually expressionless face.

[What is it?]

“The heart of the true dragon and the sub-dragon.”

Dallen slowly opened the subspace. There was no need to take out the actual heart.

The faint energy felt at the entrance to the open sub-space was enough for the thousands of years old True Dragon’s senses to guess its contents.

[…Has Cheongrin fallen? The exile’s superficial reign has finally come to an end.]

Bourbon downed his glass in one go. Dallen slightly raised his eyebrows. That thing only fills its own glass. I don’t even know what to say.

The bartender, who didn’t seem to notice the gaze, filled his glass again and gently swept the table.

[Let’s leave the long story aside. Because mortals like you are faithful to the present. If so, I will ask. Why do you think I should grant your request?]

“That’s because I plan to help you too.”

Dallon said bluntly. The hand that was lifting the glass stopped.

[A mortal will help an immortal being? What on earth do you mean?]

“Not all immortal beings are free. Rather, because we have lived for a long time, we live with as many shackles as we have lived.”

[…You say one thing flashily. Did she cut down the devil with her mouth?]

“I guess the reason the nest was empty was because Sienna went down into the labyrinth.”

The dragon closed his mouth. Dallon added with a chuckle.

“In return for you creating a mysterious body, I will follow her and save her from danger.”

Sigh.

Dallen sank into the sofa and stared at the bartender.

A stiff expression. The corner of the eye twitches.

After a while, he slowly leaned forward and opened his mouth.

[Do you know the weight of the words you just spoke?]

The short question did not contain any magical power.

However, the settled air itself became an invisible spear.

The power of words that the true dragon in front of me has possessed since it was born.

The depth and breadth of that power was such that even the slightest variation in emotion uttered from the mouth could threaten the lives of mortals.

“It’s weight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dallen did not back down. He said, baring his fangs.

“Are you talking about the contract you shared with Sienna’s ancestor, the Witch of the First Feather? Or are you talking about the complicated circumstances that led to him being attached to Sienna as an alter ego?”

The dragon’s expression distorts. It was a good sign.

This was a similar situation to the one I had faced a few months ago when I encountered one of the transcendental beings residing in the depths of the Diamond Palace.

Eberron Raktala, known as the face of the comics.

In front of an old monster who had lived for hundreds of years, Dallon once won his favor by mentioning the name of the most mysterious pioneer among the transcendental.

The old dragon in front of me was like that.

Kyle Berkus Arven, a bartender at the Crow’s Nest.

The old dragon, known as the Dragon God’s first roar, not only foresaw the coming destruction.

A being that has lived for so long that it can compare to the weight of its destruction.

In order to elicit the favor and help of such a being, you must approach it in a completely different way than when dealing with mortal beings.

“Siena, the Witch of Feathers, is connected to you through a contract passed down through your bloodline. “If Sienna is in danger, you have to go to save her whether you want to or not.”

Going back thousands of years, a secret that is closer to legend than history is revealed.

That was a story long ago, before humans had the power they have today on this continent.

The thirteen progenitors of witches who dispersed from the original witch.

Among them, the dragon that made a contract with the Feather Witch.

The dragon swore that if your descendants were in danger, he would raise himself up once and save their lives, and that promise has not faded even after thousands of years have passed.

Even though she was an alter ego, there was no other reason for her to work as a bartender at a small bar while hiding her identity even from the witch herself.

How about going one step further here?

Dallen decided not to hesitate.

“However, the main body should not be away right now. Because that will result in hastening the end. Sealed together in the deep valley of the Blade’s Edge Mountains…”

[Stop. That’s all.]

Bourbon muttered as if he were reciting. Suppressed agitation. Ripples that occur in a glass of wine.

Dallon stopped talking and looked at the dragon’s face.

[You know a lot. Human.]

The dragon had a complex expression.

The contract he made with the first Witch of Feathers thousands of years ago was a promise that even the witches involved had forgotten by the time.

Needless to say, the circumstances of the original body residing in the deep mountains were a secret that no one but a very small number of transcendental people knew about.

How would you feel when a mortal who has lived less than a century spits out all your secrets one by one?

At least for Dallen, who has no experience of living a life close to eternity, it must be an impossible feeling to understand.

[Then what are you trying to say?]

The important thing was that his few words could cause a small ripple in the old dragon’s heart.

By layering secret upon secret, he proves that he is a variable that no transcendental person could have predicted.

In front of the approaching apocalypse that was decided a long time ago.

For a being for whom even resignation is just a memory, it is difficult not to be interested in such variables.

The result was enough to create one ripple after another in a lake that had been calm for thousands of years, like ripples from a glass of wine in one’s hand.

Sweet.

Bourbon’s hand, putting down the glass, picked up the bottle and poured clear distilled liquor into Dallen’s glass.

Dallen drank the liquid, which was close to strong liquor, in one gulp. And answered.

“I will prevent Sienna’s death and ensure that you do not abandon the two duties you have chosen for yourself. Additionally, I will help her regain her strength. “It must have been a journey for that from the beginning.”

[Good.]

Bourbon nodded.

[Let us make a covenant in the name of the dragon.]

***

Snap.

The alley was full of mud. It was due to the spring rain that fell for two days.

Dallen, who had replaced his burned-out soles with new boots from subspace, was walking through the alleys of the Bronze District.

‘It’s a good thing I met Bourbon first.’

Dallen thought as he stroked his left arm.

After signing the contract in the name of the dragon, Bourbon gave him a little help.

He summoned Cheongrin, a baby cub that was twitching in his bag, and awakened some of its abilities.

‘Cheonglin’s nickname is Dragon God’s Left Arm Armor. I don’t know if you know, but Cheongrin was a control device that suppressed the dragon god’s madness for generations.’

As the bartender said that, he stroked the baby dragon’s body a few times and spoke softly.

The dragon then immediately clung to Dallen’s arm and changed its appearance into a solid crystal armor that covered him from his shoulders to his fingertips.

‘Pfft?’

‘It will prevent the dragon’s blood from encroaching on your body and mind. It must be difficult to save Sienna while walking a tightrope, relying on the holy sword like now.’

‘Bwak bwak.’

‘If you don’t want to stand out, you can replace it with a tattoo. It’s not uncommon for northern warriors to paint their bodies.’

The baby dragon was tattooed on his entire left arm. It was a welcome thing.

There was no more wriggling in the bag, and the moment Cheongrin clung to his left arm, the dragon’s blood subsided quietly without the help of the holy sword.

As we approached the main street from the back alley, the crowd grew several times more.

Among people who go with their own flow, like rivers crossing each other. Dallon walked toward the upper branch of Galios.

Rattling. Rattling.

Carts and horses pass through the crowd like ships floating on a river.

With ships like that, there were bound to be fish rushing in for the trash that would fall.

The children rushing around were like a bunch of fish.

There are as many as five to six or as many as twenty or more boys and girls gathered together.

One of the dogs quickly passed by Dallen. And Tak. One of the boys in the group crashed into Dallen’s body.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dallen reached out his hand and naturally grabbed the boy’s shoulder as he bowed his head and tried to go his own way.

“Ugh.”

A boy caught in a strong grip, unable to move. Dallen put his hand into the boy’s arms.

“what! What are you! “The mercenary here is a human fan!”

“Didn’t you learn that stealing is wrong?”

Dallen asked, pulling out a money pouch from inside the boy’s clothes.

A heavy bag filled with gold coins. That was the item that had been hanging on Dallen’s waist just a moment ago.

“Fuck! “Unlucky!”

“Change your speaking habits.”

“Ugh!”

Dallen grabbed the boy’s mouth with his thumb and forefinger, making it look like a duck’s snout.

After doing this a few times and letting go, the boy with slightly swollen lips quickly ran to join the group.

Boys and girls flocking in again. Some of them probably had a passerby’s money bag in their arms.

“Hey, you thieves! You can’t stand there!”

At that time, I heard a familiar voice from far away.

“I won’t hand you over to the security, so give me your money bag!”

She is the niece of blacksmith LeVeron Ahakim and the guide who accompanied Dallan on his first nomination request.

It was the voice of Penny the sewer cleaner.