Editor : Amethyst00



Whooooooosh—!

A cold wave swept across the frigid Northwestern Sea.

Amid that bitter cold stood a golden-haired woman.

Her gaze rested on the frozen sea.

Enkinas.

The next Dragon Queen—chosen as the successor to Melina.

She was a dragon so young she was little more than a child, yet her talent and power were enough to earn even Leo’s acknowledgment.

Enkinas was currently carrying out the mission entrusted to her.

To watch over the Dawn's World.

It was a grave duty: if any disturbance arose in that world, now transformed into a dungeon, she was to report it at once.

Deep beneath this frozen sea slept a calamity that could bring about the end of the world.

“Lady Enkinas.”

“Yes.”

“Are you truly certain… that we need not to seal the Lady Seiren’s world?”

One of the dragons guarding this place alongside Enkinas asked the question with careful hesitation.

“It will be fine. Erebos, trapped within the Dawn's World, shows no sign of breaking out. This is the time to be wary of any stirrings from Tartaros.”

At Enkinas’s words, the dragon lowered its head despite the anxious look on its face, then vanished into the snowstorm to resume its duty of keeping watch over the surrounding area.

She acted composed, but Enkinas, too, was uneasy.

Even so, she trusted Melina’s words more than her own anxiety.

'For reasons I do not know, Erebos remains still within the Dawn's World. But…'

If Tartaros were to move, that would be a different matter entirely.

With outside interference alone, a crisis could arise at any time.

What Dragonia was on guard against now was the possible movement of Tartaros.

As Enkinas was thinking that, her shoulders gave a sudden start.

The instant Enkinas sensed that something was wrong—

the stench of rotting corpses began to spread.

A deathly reek far beyond the bounds of mere foul odor.

Enkinas’s face twisted in shock.

Golden mana surged from her body.

Invoking Dragon Speech magic, Enkinas fired a spell straight behind her—

but in that very instant, she hastily withdrew it.

“Oh?”

The demon let out an admiring exclamation.

From beneath that ominous dark-crimson hood, a crimson gleam flashed.

And yet the eyes from which that light shone were hollow—nothing but a void of pitch-black darkness.

Set against that black, what Enkinas saw was white bone.

"Lich King… Hell Kaiser…!"

A strained groan escaped Enkinas.

In the Lich King’s hand was the neck of the very dragon who had voiced concern only moments before.

He had meant to use that dragon as a shield—to block Enkinas’s spell.

“You judge quickly.”

The Lich King, who had been watching Enkinas with a look of interest, soon gave a small nod, as though he understood.

“So it is you, Enkinas? I hear the Silence Dragon is rather fond of you.”

Having recognized Enkinas’s identity without difficulty, the Lich King flung the unconscious dragon aside.

Fwoosh—!

In an instant, the blizzard ceased.

It was not because the Lich King had used dark mana or released his aura.

It was simply that even the weather itself had recoiled in fear from the Lich King’s thick, clinging aura of death.

As the blizzard vanished, a groan escaped Enkinas.

All across the frozen sea, the dragons assigned to this mission lay strewn upon the ice.

“How…?”

Watching Enkinas force out that stricken sound, the Lich King let out an eerie, ghost-laden laugh.

"Living beings are creatures burdened with the curse of forgetting."

Step.

"Yes… of late, we have suffered one unending defeat after another."

Step. Step.

"Since before the Age of Calamity and all the way to the present, I have lost comrades who walked beside me—and now even fragments of the Great One are being hunted down by your kind."

The Lich King spoke in an utterly composed voice.

There was not the slightest trace of emotion in it.

Grief, sorrow, despair, rage, lamentation—

Tartaros’s plight was dire enough to warrant all such feelings.

In its present state, there was no escaping the despair of Tartaros’s situation.

The Hero of Beginning, Kyle, had been reincarnated.

And that alone was not the end of it—he was gathering the world to his banner.

He was making the preparations that only one who had lived through the Age of Calamity could make.

Of course, time was not on the world’s side.

No matter how awe-inspiring a being he might be—one who had achieved great feats and even slain an evil god—

in the end, even he was bound by the limits of mortal life.

To the Lich King, who had lived through ages beyond reckoning, it was a mere hundred years at most.

Once a century had passed, Leo—being human—would, in the end, exhaust his lifespan and die.

But the Lich King understood.

He knew that the hundred years granted to one allowed an eternal span, and the hundred years given to a mortal fated to meet death, were not the same.

To the Lich King, it was only a hundred years.

To Leo, it was a full hundred years.

There was no need to look far for proof.

It had been a mere three years since Leo entered the Hero Academy.

And in those three years—no more than a fleeting instant to the Lich King—Leo had inflicted catastrophic damage upon Tartaros.

'The Surviving Hero will never grant me time.'

If time stood on the enemy’s side,

then all that remained was to end everything before that time could come.

Five thousand years ago.

Just as he once averted the world’s destruction when almost no time remained.

The Lich King knew.

That just as he himself regarded Leo as a thing of dreadful fear,

Leo was no different.

'That bastard will never let down his guard.'

So long as it was not a complete victory, the balance could change again and again.

Just as radiant hope had once surged in an instant through a world filled with nothing but absolute despair,

so too could this present age, now overflowing with hope, be swallowed by despair at any moment.

Because he knew that…

“The Surviving Hero will never let down his guard. But…”

A note of mockery entered the Lich King’s voice.

“You are different.”

The Great Hero and the Hero of Dawn had begun to reveal themselves in the present age.

And after the Age of Heroes had dawned, the Monster Queen and the Giant King, the beings who had reigned for thousands of years as emblems of calamity and terror had been brought down.

Even fragments of Erebos—who might well be called the world’s deepest long-cherished wish were being erased.

The successors personally chosen by the Great Hero had appeared, and with them had come the new King of the World who would lead them.

The turning point that would decide the fate of the world.

The greatest moment in history—the moment when despair could be driven away completely.

That was the age of the present.

And in this battle, upon which the fate of the world hung, victory was smiling upon the world.

That was why they forgot.

Blinded—drunk on victory and hope.

How terrifying Hellkaiser, the Lich King… how terrifying Tartaros truly was.

“If the Surviving Hero had stood in your place, they would never have let down their guard. You were far too fixated on the Dawn's World.”

Though they spoke of guarding against Tartaros,

In truth, the side Enkinas had watched more warily was the Dawn's World.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had assumed that Tartaros—already suffering devastating blows—would be unable to move.

“Khgh!”

“Well, even if you had not let your guard down, you still would not have been able to stop me.”

Enkinas hastily tried to use magic to inform Melina of the situation.

But the spell never reached her.

“Victory is a truly ironic thing.”

The Lich King closed the distance between himself and Enkinas.

“You never know upon whom it will choose to smile.”

At present, Seiren was cut off.

A situation neither the Lich King nor even Leo had foreseen.

Of course, that was not why the Lich King had come here.

Step. Step.

The Lich King closed the distance between himself and Enkinas.

He did not so much as tell her to move aside.

She would never step aside anyway—and even if she did, he had no intention of sparing her.

Enkinas’s eyes sank into an icy calm.

Crack! Craaack!

Ghastly bone spikes burst from the Lich King’s body, punching through his robe like thorns.

A moment later.

Leaving the enormous golden dragon behind him, the Lich King swept his gaze over the surroundings.

He had let every last dragon escape—the very ones who had all been meant to die here.

“I see.”

It was because of Enkinas before his eyes.

“No wonder the Dragon of Silence cherishes you.”

The Lich King gave a small nod and raised his hand.

He meant to snuff out the faint thread of breath still left in Enkinas.

But then his movement stopped.

His gaze turned toward the frozen sea.

The Great Creator was calling him.

And without a moment’s hesitation, the Lich King answered that summons.

bl

Fwoooosh—

The first thing the Lich King saw upon entering the world of upheaval was that very world, ablaze with black flames.

A look of confusion rose on his face at the sight.

[It has been a long time, my legion commander.]

At the voice that came from beyond, the Lich King dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“I lay my eyes upon the Great End.”

[It seems you have begun to doubt me.]

“……”

At Erebos’s words, the Lich King gave no reply.

He merely kept his head bowed.

Erebos looked upon his creation—

and burst into laughter.

The Primordial evil was absolute ruin to the world.

Those who lived within that world would never be able to understand him.

But Tartaros, which he himself had brought forth, was different.

Erebos knew.

He knew that the demon race, who revered him as their Creator, would never betray him.

To Erebos, the demon race was no different from an extension of himself.

Just as those who live as part of the world desire its continued existence,

the demons longed for the world’s destruction.

That alone was the reason for their existence.

Which was why it should have been impossible for the Lich King, a demon himself, to show distrust toward his own Creator.

But Erebos understood the distrust of his most loyal servant.

And in his own way, he showed mercy.

[Speak to me of your grievance. I permit it.]

“O Primordial Evil. For five thousand years, I have awaited the resurrection of my master—you.”

[I know.]

“But why, if you are capable of resurrecting yourself, do you remain confined within the Dawn's World?”

The Lich King asked as though he could not comprehend it.

“My lord and master, the fragment of you I found is here. Reclaim your strength, and without delay make ready the Great Calamity, just as you did 5000 years ago. Though I am lacking, I shall devote myself wholly to your will.”

As Erebos looked upon his retainer, head bowed and yearning for his resurrection, he spoke.

[A few days ago, a dragon came to me, claiming it had come from the future.]

“Future?”

The Lich King’s eye-light writhed.

To him, it was the word he loathed most.

[Yes. It bowed its head before me and told me of the future.]

“……”

[No matter what methods I employ, it seems I am destined to be hunted down by the Surviving Hero.]

“What an utterly disagreeable thing to hear.”

[No.]

“……”

[Those words are likely true. In the end, I will be defeated by the Surviving Hero.]

The Lich King fell silent as he looked upon Erebos, who acknowledged his own defeat with quiet composure.

[So that bastard told me this: he would take one of my fragments to a future where the Surviving Hero does not exist.]

“How very comforting to know there are lunatics even in the future. To think one would follow Lord Erebos and carry that ember into ages yet to come.”

[Mad he certainly was. But he was no follower of mine.]

“……?”

[That bastard regarded me as nothing more than a defeated relic of the past. Having struck me down once, he believed he could do so as many times as he pleased.]

“Then what was his purpose in taking on the risk of carrying that ember into the future?”

Recalling the Dragon Lord, Belian, who had come to seek him not long ago, Erebos let out a scornful laugh.

[He held to the belief that, with my disappearance from the world, its progress had come to a halt.]

“So, because there is threat, there is also progress… What a truly pathetic delusion.”

[He desired the knowledge to wield the power of my fragments. So I gave it to him.]

“Then… O Primal Evil, you mean to use that delusion itself and prepare for your resurrection in the future.”

If there existed a nemesis by the name of Leo Plov, then all one had to do was carry the ember into an age where that nemesis did not exist.

“I shall aid that dragon at once.”

[My loyal servant.]

“Yes.”

[Do you truly believe that someone clinging to such a pathetic conviction could defeat the Surviving Hero?]

“……”

[To return to the future, he will need to fulfill a number of conditions. And to meet those conditions, it seems he cannot avoid coming into conflict with the Surviving Hero.]

“Then should we not help him all the more?”

[No. One way or another, he will die by the hand of the Surviving Hero. His delusion will never be realized.]

“Then what are we to do…?”

[If the future is known, then all one need do is change it, is it not?]

“What?”

[5000 years ago, the Surviving Hero changed the fate of a world whose destruction had already been sealed.]

Erebos laughed.

With the absolute authority of calamity, Erebos had seen the future of a world in which not even ashes would remain.

And yet the Hero of Beginning twisted that future—

and changed the world’s destiny.

He had, in the truest sense, changed the future itself.

[Which means this as well: if the future of a world all but certain to be saved can be overturned, then turning that same future toward destruction is just as possible.]

The black flames devouring the surroundings surged violently.

[Do you understand, my loyal servant? This very moment, now, is the branching point that will decide the fate of the world.]