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Concepts such as lineage, faith, and status were recognized as important, compared to how these notions used to be regarded in the Age of Oblivion.

Thus, Kubartos realized that he was special.

The golden color of his scales, fitting for a ruler, symbolized sovereignty.

Due to the lineage that ruled ‘time,’ his group treated him in a special manner. He was able to do things on his own that others couldn’t, even if they worked together.

‘How can this happen...?

Kubartos’ eyes widened after losing his wings, and crashed down.

He felt confused by the situation. A fake Martial God banished from Asgard and a mere human swordsman, both of them exhausted, yet they still managed to cut off his wings.

He might not have been able to kill the silver-scaled Cranbel, who symbolized divinity, but he still fought and won. Then he’d returned, taking the hearts of three traitors, becoming even stronger. Yet, he still failed.

‘Did this happen because Revola’s hierarchy is unexpectedly close to a top dragon?’

It was so absurd that he didn’t even have time to feel shame. Kubartos slowly stood up, contemplating his condition.

His wings torn by the incomplete dragon killing energy were regenerating slowly. A large number of scales on his shoulder blades were also torn off.

It was repulsive. He had lost the dignity of a ruler.

Am I not good enough?

That couldn’t be.

Kubartos increased the regeneration speed by changing the properties of the dragon killing energy on his wound to gold. Then he considered what the root of the problem was. He easily arrived at a conclusion.

‘In the end, Trauka is the problem.’

Biban’s sword was made from Trauka.

Kubartos looked at Biban’s sword, which targeted him by changing its size every time. A sword made from the bones and scales of an old dragon, a weapon that was born because Trauka did Grid a favor, the result of a stupid misjudgment. In the front, the golden scales’ characteristic of nullifying the power of metal wasn’t fully exerted. He hated to admit it, but it was very intimidating.

‘It is best to kill Trauka as soon as possible.’

By killing the fire dragon, he would undermine the value of the name ‘Trauka.’ The best way to eliminate variables in future battles was to cause the weapons made from Trauka to lose their value.

Flap.

Kubartos made a decision then. He spread out his regenerated wings and took flight. He arrived shortly at the entrance of the lair and followed the trails of blood left by Zeratul’s group. It was easy to pursue them.

Moving through the intricate maze of Trauka’s lair using Shunpo wasn’t efficient at all. Zeratul’s group was exhausted and couldn’t cover too much ground.

‘Trauka, your death is inevitable.’

The old dragons. In the past, they failed to prevent Rebecca from sealing the refraction dragon. It was because of them that the Age of Oblivion commenced. Then, during that period of time, they took the lead in causing more accidents than any other dragons. They craved the power of their own kin, fell for Baal’s tricks and went crazy. Or they almost united the surface and Asgard by eating the roots of the World Tree...

Finally, they helped Grid in many ways and upset the balance of the world.

They were all bastards. Kubarrtos believed a generational change was very much needed, and Judar had promised to cooperate with him for this to be achieved.

Now, the timing was just right. The other old dragons couldn’t keep their eyes off the resurrected Hayate, while Cranbel and Trauka were half-dead. There was nothing left that could hinder Kubartos.

Kubartos, having polymorphed into human form, halted in the rapidly narrowing passage.

Biban was sitting cross-legged, waiting for him.

“Are you back already? I’m really envious of your resilience.”

A human who earned the title of a god. Though, at the end of the day, he was still human, and that was obvious from the wounds that hadn’t yet healed on his inherently inferior body.

Kubartos snorted. “This foolish guy.”

A sneer flowed out when he thought about Biban’s intentions for waiting in this narrow passage.

“Do you think you stand a chance just because I am polymorphed?”

“Not at all...”

Biban was surprisingly honest. He stumbled like he was drunk. He held the Broken Sword and the ice sword in both hands.

“But I will try to hinder you as much as I can.”

Biban had no choice but to remain behind. Zeratul still needed time to restore his divinity. If they allowed Kubartos to pursue, Revola would be preyed on. Most importantly, at the end of the maze was Grid, who was probably on the brink of death. Biban couldn’t allow one of Grid’s greatest enemies, succeeded only by the old dragons, to pass.

According to Revola’s speculations, Kubartos’ ultimate goal was Trauka. A top dragon eating an old dragon? He couldn’t even wrap his head around the consequences of that.

“Are you blocking me just because you want to? You don’t know who you are up against.”

A smile spread across the face of the handsome blond-haired man.

He couldn’t wait to completely annihilate the ‘swordsmanship’ that Biban believed in.

However, his wish didn’t come true.

Biban was a tower member, therefore he was aware of the power the dragons possessed. He didn’t expect the same technique to work. After all, Kubartos was a gold dragon. His type of power couldn’t be predicted.

Therefore, he used his strongest attack from the very beginning.

The surrounding scenery changed. A wilderness covered in the light of the setting sun unfolded. Countless swords floated in the air all the way to the horizon. They were the mind swords that could cut anything.

Biban pointed the tip of his sword at Kubartos.

So this was the mental world of the Sword God. It was an overwhelming sight. However, Kubartos still scoffed at it. He confirmed that some of the swords weren’t aimed at him. Plus, the blades of many of the mind swords seemed rather dull.

This wasn’t a complete mental world, meaning that the caster’s mental strength wasn’t intact.

Biban had fought for his life against Fire Dragon Trauka and was still suffering from the aftereffects of such a fight. The shock of not being able to prevent Hayate’s death faintly lingered in him. Of course, the recent memory of being overwhelmed by Kubartos was also clear.

His anxiety increased when he thought of Grid, who must have been dying.

Biban had been damaged in one too many ways to still be considered intact.

The smile on Kubartos’ face became even wider. Biban’s mental world also helped Kubartos.

“This place is spacious.”

Thanks to the transformation of the small space into a wilderness, he could release Polymorph and restore his original form.

[Don’t you know that your mind can collapse if your mental world is forcibly broken?]

“Don’t worry. I’m more than used to being insane.”

There was a flood of mind swords. Some didn’t respond to Biban, but the power was still sufficient.

Kubartos’ vision was bathed in a sunset light. The vast number of blades closely surrounding the giant, golden dragon were absorbing the setting sun. This was a close-range attack with nearly infinite mind swords. Biban’s level of threat was much higher than it had been before.

The smile disappeared from Kubartos’ face.

He plunged toward the unavoidable tens of thousands of sword attacks, the blades piercing and stabbing his whole body. As soon as he closed the distance between him and his opponent, he attacked Biban.

‘Only humans are at a disadvantage.’

Biban’s focus wavered. He was fed up with the dragons’ ignorant fighting style of utilizing their overwhelming physical abilities.

He felt a terrible pain in his chest and lost consciousness for a moment, though his will remained unshaken.

Two swords, wielded by the unconscious Biban, along with the mind swords with distinct forms, slashed at Kubartos.

***

An unnecessarily large space.

The scale of the lair was staggering. Zeratul couldn’t see the end no matter how much he ran, so he was becoming more and more annoyed. He was particularly impressed by the fact that it had been designed as a maze.

Why make such a complex structure if intruders weren’t expected to try breaking in? Was anyone in the whole world so crazy that they’d dare invade the lair of an old dragon?

“...Hmm.”

Zeratul, who had been swearing repeatedly, suddenly shut up. He reminded himself that he was stuck suffering in this place because of some crazy guy.

Revola interpreted it differently.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“You think I’m blaming myself? Are you crazy? I can see why you received Grid’s grace.”

“I have no recollection of Grid showing any grace to me.’

What he meant though was, ‘Unlike you.’

It was natural.

Zeratul was carrying Revola on his back. The self-proclaimed Martial God, who didn’t care whether others lived or died, was running with someone, even a dragon who was considered an enemy, on his back.

Of course, he wasn’t doing it because he enjoyed it. He just wanted to avoid Revola being eaten by Kubartos.

“Don’t make me laugh. You helped us without receiving any favor from Grid?”

“Didn’t I already explain that I helped against Kubartos because I was worried he would target Trauka?”

“Don’t keep spouting nonsense. Don’t you care about the possibility of us harming Trauka? You are placing your trust in us. The reason for this must lie with Grid.”

The questions that Zeratul asked also gave away some answers.

Revola looked at him with wide eyes, slightly fascinated. Then he suddenly burst out laughing.

“You don’t have the skills.”

“......?”

“Your skills can’t defeat my people who are in the lair. That means you can’t hurt Trauka. Um, does this count as trust?”

“This guy, don’t tell me, you...?”

Was this guy really not aware of Grid’s skills?

Zeratul cocked his head. Revola seemed to understand his incomplete question and added, “Of course, I know that Grid is very strong. He is just as strong while fighting as I am in sheer brute force. He also has a very mean spirit. He is so good at combat, it is quite bothersome. Honestly, I never imagined I would become so frustrated just because of one god. No wonder why he is an Only One God. I can vaguely understand why the old dragons once favored him.”

Grid had taken Trauka hostage, forcing Revola’s group to Polymorph, and continued to cause problems and incite chaos. Because of this, Revola’s group had split up into separate factions. They were unable to demonstrate their power properly, and had been dragged around by Grid.

There were too many misunderstandings to properly evaluate Grid’s abilities.

Revola even misunderstood Biban and Zeratul’s skills.

It was because he couldn’t imagine that they’d managed to clash with the oldest top dragon in history while not even being in good shape.

Revola was of the opinion that the two men were capable of performing miracles that far exceeded their capabilities.

Zeratul grasped the situation and smiled vainly.

“...Yes, after all, this is a dragon.”

Knowing everything was a racial trait of the dragons. These beings didn’t care much about the world. They believed they knew all there was to know, even if they hadn’t seen or experienced everything the world had to offer. They only knew very little about Grid’s life.

Of course, this tendency would change in the future. From the moment the refraction dragon was resurrected, dragons had started to directly intervene in the world.

Zeratul stated, “I’m looking forward to your reaction.”

“My reaction? Right now, I am smiling.”

To be more precise, he was laughing.

Zeratul shrugged and didn’t speak anymore. He felt the collapse of Biban’s mental world in the distance.

Biban had lasted a long time on his own.

He didn’t want the sacrifice of the companion with whom he’d drunk alongside to go to waste, so Zeratul’s footsteps quickened while mourning the deaths of his colleagues.

***

“Who is going to die?”

“Huh?”

Hurent and his group were startled when Biban suddenly stood up and shouted.

“What is going on here?” Biban asked in confusion upon seeing them.

“......?”

What? Had his old illness relapsed?

Hurent and his companions exchanged glances, asking each other not to provoke Biban.

Kubartos was glaring at them like he intended to kill them.