Chapter 174 – Molang Fantasy (12)
[Chapter 9 – Section 6] The Strongest Dragon King
The virtual reality game <Molang Fantasy> has no name displayed on the status window. So whether it’s a user or a resident (NPC), there’s no way to know unless you ask directly or investigate.
For that reason,
“The strongest Dragon King, huh…”
The name of Ranuvel the 10th, who had reincarnated as a dragon, remained unknown.
It was questionable how they knew she had reincarnated as a dragon and that she was the strongest Dragon King, but what benefit would the empire’s high-ranking figures gain by lying to a commoner?
Moreover, if she weren’t strong enough to warrant the modifier “strongest,” the empire’s loyal subjects would have captured Ranuvel the 10th alive and offered her up long ago.
“Turn back!”
“Run away!”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud…!
The gatekeepers guarding her nest charged at me the moment they spotted me. It was contradictory—they shouted for me to leave while trying to kill me.
Golems.
Magical creatures made by imitating the human form using mud, rock, or similar materials.
Their size was roughly equivalent to a three-story building—about 12 meters tall—male-shaped giants whose bodies were composed of natural elements like surrounding rocks and soil.
“Turn back!”
“Retreat!”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud…!
They carried no separate weapons, but their sheer mass alone made them deadly instruments. Anything below level 500 would be crushed flat with no time to use the escape system!
That’s why top-tier guilds averaging level 600 had attempted to subjugate them.
Just like them, I—
Swoosh—
Sliced off the golem’s limbs. But they regenerated as if nothing had happened?
“Huh?”
Was it because my class and aptitude—specialized only in raising achievements and levels—couldn’t deal proper damage to golems?
It felt like digging with a sword on a mountain.
The matchup was terrible.
“Repent!”
“Regret!”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud…!
Estimated level: around 800. If there was only one, even a guild could subjugate a golem without much difficulty, but when three or four attacked together, there was no answer.
…Or was there?
Swoosh—
Something was off. No matter where I severed these golems’ bodies, they wouldn’t die.
“Where the hell is the heart?!”
Golems can keep regenerating and reviving until their heart is destroyed.
But I’m not just some idiot who only pushes with levels. I had hunted various golems from cute level 30 ones up to level 800, accumulating know-how along the way.
“Turn ba—”
“Shut up!”
Thud! Boom! BOOOOM~!
My greatest—and only—advantage, overwhelming level difference, meant that even a casual swing of my sword into the air generated lethal shockwaves.
Crackle crackle…
Yet the golem, shattered like cookie crumbs, quickly reformed its shape.
(Indeed… so that’s how it is.)
Senior?
(Frustrating junior. Use your head.)
“Think… Ah!”
It seems the golem’s heart is hidden somewhere else.
(Hoo? Junior. Why don’t you rip out your own heart and hide it in a safe place too?)
“……”
Looks like my brain is useless.
(Give up the idea of easily knocking them down with shockwaves and cut them properly instead.)
“That’s a bit…”
It was like picking up beans one by one with chopsticks.
(The choice is yours.)
“Ugh…”
“Turn back!”
“…You turn back!”
It was incredibly tedious, but for now, I decided to follow the senior’s instructions.
Swoosh—
Slice, slice again, and slice once more…!
I carved them up like a butcher tenderizing meat with a knife instead of a machine.
Thud! Boooom!
It took about a hundred times longer than knocking them down with shockwaves, but this time the golem did not revive.
“…What the…?”
(If you’re curious, find the heart.)
Yes.
Searching for the heart among the remains of a golem made of natural materials wasn’t easy, but by pinpointing the moment of death, I estimated where the heart was hidden and focused my search there until I found it.
And finally,
Tap.
Picking up the bisected golem heart, I let out a hollow laugh.
“So that’s how it was.”
[Destroyed Golem’s Romantium Heart (A)]
[Broken Golem’s Romantium Heart (A)]
The golem’s heart had been thinly coated with S-grade material so tough that even cheap equipment couldn’t scratch it.
Thinking I could destroy something this durable with just shockwaves—how ridiculous.
(The easy path isn’t always the right one. You’ve already felt that bone-deep, haven’t you? Still not enough regret?)
“Ugh…”
Another wave of self-loathing crashed over me.
(Joking. This is simply a lack of experience. It’s not your fault. It’s only natural for an inspector to pursue maximum efficiency. They say even a tiger goes all out when catching a rabbit, but there’s also the saying not to use a cow-slaughtering knife on a chicken.)
“Heh~ You even know proverbs.”
(Proverbs reflect the character of a nation’s people. For example… repeat a lie often enough and it becomes truth.)
“Turn back!”
“Regret!”
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud…!
The gatekeepers guarding the nest kept appearing. And the closer I got to the nest, the more their numbers increased.
“Sick of this… huh?”
“Kraaaang!”
A new type of gatekeeper appeared to relieve my boredom from dealing only with golems.
Dragons.
Is there such a thing as a king without subjects? This was why Ranuvel the 10th was called the Dragon King.
Flap flap~
The dragons that had built their lairs around the king’s nest all flew toward me at once.
“Ooh!”
BOOM BOOM! BOOM!
BOOM! BOOOOM~!
The dragons’ flame breaths, held in their mouths, rained down from above my head.
Ground: golems.
Sky: dragons.
This was why even the witches, with the full support of the empire’s loyal subjects and enormous funds, couldn’t breach this defensive line.
“Get down here!”
Shockwaves didn’t work on golems whose hearts were coated with solid S-grade material, but dragons were different.
“Kweeeee~?!”
“Kraaaang~?!”
Among the dragons I’d hunted in the world of <Molang Fantasy>, the strongest one I’d encountered was only around level 880.
Even that one had been the boss dominating its region. The ones in front of me now were just grunts guarding the nest. Judging by the feel, they were mid-700s.
Meanwhile, I was level 1100!
There was no contest between us.
Thud!
BOOOOM!
The dragons fell like flies.
“…This is actually pretty good.”
I didn’t even bother collecting the spoils here. I’d seen countless better drops than dragon byproducts. They weren’t even worth the coins lying on the ground.
Swish.
I charged straight into the heart of the nest!
A beautiful manor came into view.
“Halt.”
At the entrance to the manor stood a blue-haired fairy youth.
“No thanks?”
Politely declining, I tore through space at supersonic speed and charged at the fairy.
Tick, tick, tick—
The shockwaves and afterwinds from my movement swept toward the manor, but a transparent barrier installed on the walls blocked them completely.
“An intruder being so rude.”
“Hup?!”
Since completing 7th Job Advancement, not a single monster had properly reacted to my speed until now.
Clang—
Yet it was perfectly blocked.
Even my ‘Truly Pathetic Solonium Sword (A)’—made from S-grade material—failed to cut through the fairy youth’s blade and was stopped dead.
Which meant—
“You have an A-grade weapon too—ugh?!”
“Bestowed upon me by Her Majesty the Queen.”
Whirr—
The fairy youth, his voice laced with pride, launched a counterattack.
Fast yet dazzling movements.
I instantly realized this was a true strong enemy I couldn’t simply overpower with levels.
“Damn it!”
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every clash between our swords unleashed storms accompanied by shockwaves that raged around us.
My level was clearly superior.
But in every other aspect, I was being pushed back.
(A sword forged by someone who crushed insufficient talent through sheer effort. Let’s see… pure swordsmanship honed for about 1,000 years would reach roughly this level, huh?)
“Ugh!”
I was going to die at this rate.
(A sword forced to be honest because of the limits of talent. I can feel the belief that effort never betrays, walking only one straight path with unwavering resolve.)
“Regret it.”
“You too with that line?!”
But I was genuinely regretting it now. I should’ve taken more time to raise my level higher!
Clang! Clang! Swoosh—
Wounds began appearing on my body.
(Tsk tsk. If you knew you had no talent, you should’ve looked for another path.)
I really have no talent?!
(I misspoke. You do lack talent, but compared to you, this one has some.)
“Guh!”
“Human. I shall make you pay the price for defiling Her Majesty’s land.”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The golems blocked my retreat, so escape wasn’t possible. Shaking off this fairy youth’s pursuit while also dealing with golems?
Absolutely impossible.
(But his tone is quite arrogant. For a rookie who’d be caught up to in ten years if a true genius got serious about effort.)
Uh… only ten years?
(Junior. Just do as I say.)
Here we go again.
(Move back lightly as if surpassing a newborn baby, but keep your right foot off the ground. Pull your left arm behind your back and bend it like a bowstring, while drawing your right hand toward 8 o’clock and twisting your waist. Feel like winding a spring. Rotate your wrist 13 degrees counterclockwise. If you can’t manage, up to 15 degrees is within tolerance.)
“Uwaaa…”
So many instructions!
(Don’t worry about center of gravity. It’s fine if you pathetically fall afterward. There won’t be an afterward anyway. Now release the wound spring—unwind your waist while swinging your right hand in a parabola toward 3 o’clock through empty air. Imagine the curve of your girlfriend’s hip.)
“……”
It was complicated, but thanks to all my part-time training, I could follow orders well.
But swing at empty air?
It felt like suicide, but trusting the senior, I moved exactly as instructed.
“Repent—”
It was magic.
I swung my sword at nothing—but the fairy youth thrust his right arm right into the path.
Snap!
His right arm was cleanly severed from the shoulder. The fairy youth’s face filled with shock.
I was shocked too, having cut it off.
What the hell just happened?!
(The difference in talent. Can a wingless tiger fly no matter how hard it tries for a thousand years?)
Not magic—pure talent.
But to my eyes, it looked like nothing short of impossible sorcery.
(An honest sword is easy to predict. If you stubbornly repeat the same thing, you’ll always swing exactly like you practiced. You might think otherwise, but the moment you believe that, it proves you have no talent.)
“……”
That was harsh.
Thud.
“To think I’d lose…”
Having gained the upper hand by inflicting minor cuts on me, only to be reversed in an instant, the fairy youth dropped to his knees in shock.
(No need to pay attention to this one anymore.)
I don’t have to kill him?
(Frustrating junior. That’s exactly why you have no talent.)
“……”
Why again?
All I said was to kill the enemy—why is my talent being insulted now?
(You think you only cut off his right arm, but I cut his heart. I made him feel the overwhelming gap in talent and fall into despair. He’s already as good as dead.)
Uh… Senior. You are a benevolent god, right?
(Of course. Didn’t I give him the chance to choose death without killing him? At this rate, I’m more of a pushover than a benevolent god.)
“Excuse me, passing through.”
“……”
The dazed fairy youth didn’t react even when I spoke to him.
(Don’t waste a thousand years like this guy did—keep walking your own path. It’s not a shortcut or destiny; it’s simply the path that suits you.)
…Even if I don’t like it?
(Then choose a different path. Live each day meaningfully while clinging to the empty hope that effort never betrays. But think about why P developed the aptitude tester in the first place.)
“Uh… this is kind of bewildering.”
P suddenly showing up here?
(The cardinal and imperial princess of the Holy Roman Empire—who worship P—are both witches, yet you’ve never once suspected the connection. Your intelligence is truly terrifying…)
“Sniff.”
Despite the fierce battle, the manor remained spotless—not even a speck of dust.
I walked along the stone path of the beautiful garden, where flowers and trees were meticulously tended around the pond, and headed deeper inside.
(You’ve come to the right place.)
“Excuse me?”
I spoke to the being I presumed to be Ranuvel the 10th.
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