Chapter 1160

Undead.

Beings who had met death but had not died; who could move, yet could not be called alive.

But even the undead were not immortal.

They simply met another kind of death: Erasure.

Erasure, huh.

As time slowed, the Skeleton King watched countless black flashes fill the space around him and murmured to himself.

A path he had not yet taken.

And yet, one he would have to walk in the end.

He quietly closed his eyes.

Of course, he knew. If he moved now, he could still avoid Erasure. If he struggled with every ounce of his strength, until the last fragment of his soul crumbled into ash, he might even leave a tiny sword wound on that terrifyingly powerful Ancient Dragon’s body.

But it would be pointless. The gap in their power—the difference in their very being—was too vast for him to hope for anything more.

There’s no turning this around. This body—no, Jin Taekyung—will fall here today. At the hands of a monster bent on destroying the world.

And word would spread soon. Everything moved fast in this world.

That was why he had drawn as much attention as possible on his way here in Jin Taekyung’s form. By now, everyone around the world would be watching Moscow closely.

If that happens, I won’t regret it.

But unlike the Skeleton King, the people would regret what they had done—and be furious.

At the sight of a hero driven by an unseen hand to willingly meet his end, they would finally realize their mistake. Then they would unite and fight.

Even if the whole truth came to light, hearts once set would not be easily swayed.

Yeah. That’s enough.

But why?

Even after making that resolve and repeating it to himself countless times, why did his heart feel as heavy as lead?

The sound of space being crushed left his ears ringing. His eyes were shut tight, yet he could still see those faces and hear those voices. What were they?

And why—

KA-BOOOOM!

—hadn’t a single one of those terrible black flashes touched him? That tremendous magical power had seemed capable of devouring both his body and the soul within it without a trace.

This is…

A sudden sense of déjà vu swept over him. The Skeleton King opened his eyes.

And saw him.

Far away, the Black Dragon leaned back at an angle against his throne, staring at him with eyes that gleamed strangely.

“Just as I thought. Was that your plan from the start?”

“……!”

“I suppose I should take back what I said earlier. It seems I underestimated all of you… No, I underestimated you.”

The Skeleton King’s reflection gleamed in eyes like pieces of obsidian.

The Ancient Dragon’s heart, worn down little by little over thousands of years, was pounding fiercely now.

“Why didn’t you dodge?”

The Skeleton King gritted his teeth. Morgoth’s question made it clear he had seen through not only the Skeleton King’s appearance, but the whole situation.

“Because I had to.”

“……!”

Crack.

The armrest of the golden throne crumbled to dust.

But Morgoth was not angry at the Skeleton King for trying to deceive him.

He was trembling with rising excitement and joy.

Because you had to?

Yes. This was it.

If the Skeleton King had tried to fight back in any way, Morgoth would have erased him with all his power, without the slightest hesitation.

He had no intention of letting a moment’s curiosity cost him the two prized catches he sought: Cheon Taemin and Jin Taekyung.

The Adversary who defeated the Demon King in a mere human body. And the one who leads the world after him.

Those two alone had been Morgoth’s greatest purpose and reason for coming to this world.

At least, until a moment ago.

But what the Skeleton King had just shown him was enough to shake him to the core.

A cursed undead monster, with a soul like this.

Everyone wanted to live. Humans and monsters alike.

But sacrifice was different.

Morgoth had spent vast stretches of time among many races in the name of amusement. Yet even the Elves of the forest, supposedly the noblest of them all, had never astonished him like this.

No. There was no point in comparing them.

Just as Morgoth had been born to rule the world, they had been born with pure hearts.

But the Skeleton King was unmistakably an undead monster. A being corrupted by an inescapable curse.

And yet he had tried to sacrifice himself—an undead monster who should have been made of nothing but rage and fear.

Though he feared Erasure and had the power to delay his end, if only for a little while, he had refused to retreat.

How is this possible?

It was like discovering an entirely new species.

Morgoth had chosen to become an evil Dragon, abandoning everything he had built over the ages in pursuit of curiosity alone. Now he felt the strongest urge of his life.

More precisely, a greed that even his lofty intellect could not suppress.

I want him.

No. He had to have him.

A noble soul dwelling in the most corrupted of bodies.

If he could make this strange being, unlike any he had ever seen, completely his own, he felt he might grasp not only its extraordinary nature but also the unknown realm he had longed to reach for thousands of years.

The greatest question—and driving force—that had made Morgoth who he was.

“This won’t do. I can’t hold back.”

The moment Morgoth murmured to himself and rose from his throne—

Flash.

It happened in an instant.

Morgoth vanished without a trace, though he had been dozens of meters¹ away. The Skeleton King, every nerve on edge, felt a sudden chill rush over him.

Blink!

The thought flashed through his mind, but it was already too late.

His opponent was a Dragon, born with a blessing of mana no other race could approach.

Morgoth cast a wordless spell as naturally as breathing, surpassed the limits of Blink magic, and struck the Skeleton King in the back.

CRRACK!

He couldn’t block it or dodge it.

With a dreadful cracking sound, his body flew like a cannonball.

Before the Skeleton King could regain his balance in midair, Morgoth leapt across space again and reached for him.

Fwoosh—slice!

A chillingly low whistle cut through the air by his ear.

At the same time, the Skeleton King put everything he had into widening the distance—and realized his left arm had just been severed from his body.

If he hadn’t twisted instinctively at the last moment, he would have lost something other than his arm.

He was aiming for both my legs from the start. He wasn’t trying to erase me.

Morgoth’s voice followed, confirming his suspicion.

“Stop resisting. You’re only wasting time.”

It was true. There was nothing to add to it or take away.

The gap between them was dozens of times greater than the distance separating them.

“I’ve changed my mind. I have to have you.”

Morgoth’s eyes flickered with greed now, not mere curiosity.

The Skeleton King couldn’t fully understand this change in him, but he was certain of one thing.

In the pitch-black darkness where he could see nothing, a faint glimmer of light had finally begun to seep in.

“I understand. I am pretty damn handsome, after all. In fact, it feels unfair to be stuck with a face this ugly.”

With a calm retort, the Skeleton King raised the [Hero’s Sword] at an angle in his one remaining hand.

One chance.

The only path left to him now. It would surely be the first and last.

Vwooom.

His enormous but murky magical power welled up, wrapping around his body and the silver blade—so utterly at odds with its nature.

Yet even that mighty power, rippling like living mist as it filled the space around them, could not compare to Morgoth’s.

“Skeleton King. You awoke in the darkest, coldest grave and took the crown in your hand—the king of the cursed undead.”

The Black Dragon Duke Morgoth, once a Dragon Lord who had ruled over three moons and a sun, twelve continents and nine seas, smiled brightly and spread his arms.

His impossibly pure and powerful magical power, worthy of his title as an Archduke of the Demon Realm, pressed down on everything.

“Come to me—to your true master.”

At that very moment—

Fwoooosh!

The space between them disappeared.

No—the Skeleton King saw it twist and vanish at the same time.

But unlike Morgoth, who came hurtling toward him faster than sound with wings of magical power spread wide, the Skeleton King kept both feet planted firmly where he stood.

All he had was the final strike he would make with his one remaining hand.

Shwoosh!

The tip of the sword shot through the air.

Without the slightest tremor.

Boldly, yet calmly.

Carrying a force greater than it had ever borne, it flew in the single direction its wielder intended.

Toward the Skeleton King’s own neck.

“……!”

If a scream could make no sound, would it look like this?

In an instant divided into countless fractions, Morgoth witnessed the unbelievable sight. His eyes flew wide, and he reached out.

And then—

FWOOSH!

A flash deeper and more vast than any darkness erupted, swallowing everything around them.

If someone living in Moscow had survived to see it, they would surely have thought of one word:

Apocalypse.

The world’s death cry.

The end of all living things.

But in that place, already a land of death and little different from part of the Demon Realm, the first to sense danger were not humans.

Thud.

A rumble seemed to rise from deep beneath the earth.

The vast wave stirred something beyond instinct, reaching into the soul. Across the area, countless monsters raised their heads in unison.

Even the large monsters who, seized by a moment’s hunger, had been chewing a nearby Orc alive.

Even the Death Knights approaching to punish them, and the Liches raising undead monsters to reinforce their ranks.

Even the dragonkin circling the tall spires and beneath the black clouds.

Every last one of them stopped moving and turned toward the source of the ominous rumble.

The dwelling of the Black Dragon Duke Morgoth, now as good as their new king.

The Dragon Lair.

Whoooosh!

Suddenly, a beam of light shot upward.

No—darkness.

For some reason, it felt not the least bit familiar. It burst from the heart of the lair and rose skyward in a single enormous pillar.

Without end.

Erasing everything in its path.

It split the spires, the dragonkin, and the clouds blocking the light above them, then finally pierced the sky.

And then—

Thud.

The monsters watched the strange sight with vacant stares. At the same moment, they realized how precious the brief time they had just been given was.

Rrrrrumble!

A beam of light poured down through the rift in the torn black clouds, illuminating the earth as it heaved and rolled in waves.