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The entity called the Evil Dragon among the Old Dragons, Bunhelier. Recently, he helped Grid in the fight against Baal and was worshiped as a hero. Contrary to popular assessments that praised him as invincible, his appearance was disastrous. He was repeatedly trampled on by a dragon that was one head taller than him.

[Groan...]

Heavy rain poured down in the aftermath of the explosion of magic in all forms. Bunhelier was submerged in the formed lake and could barely raise his head. His large eyes, which were golden as if they contained the sun, were dyed black. They were projecting the black Breath that was flying right in front of him.

Bunhelier’s view of the landscape spun around. He was hit by Nevartan’s Breath, which continued flying to devastate the mountain range that had been created around Bunhelier’s crash site. His head spun several times. A normal creature would’ve had his neck bones completely crushed to death.

[Bunhelier. I know you are pitiful and pathetic. You are a product of inferiority that makes misjudgments every time. It is worthless to point out all the mistakes you have made, for every mistake is the result of incompetence.]

The years of insanity and wandering. Nevartan didn’t consider it a great waste. It was because he knew his value was immutable. No tricks or time could detract from the ‘I’ that he declared. This was the heart of an Old Dragon.

‘A being that even the Absolutes look up to.’

Metatron read Nevartan’s mind and shuddered. They noticed that the reason why the Old Dragon didn’t confront Chiyou wasn’t because they lacked courage.

‘...Then why?’

Why did Trauka, who ran around uncontrollably and hunted the gods of Asgard, avoid a confrontation with Chiyou? What external force was at work? Was there such a thing as an external force that could control the Old Dragons?

Metatron was filled with new questions when they suddenly came to their senses. It was due to the disturbance caused by Bunhelier. The sight of Bunhelier struggling to raise his submerged body in the lake resembled a creature rolling around in the mud. How could it be the same Old Dragon...?

This was the cause of his misjudgment...

Eventually, Bunhelier shouted at Metatron, who hated and resented him.

[Useless angel...! How long are you going to be mesmerized?]

“”......””

What shamelessness did this creature have to ask for cooperation? Metatron wondered before soon coming to a conclusion. They noticed that low self-esteem and the resulting nervousness and victim mentality had helped shape Bunhelier’s unconventional personality.

‘He looks like Zeratul.’

Just in time, a report arrived that Zeratul hoped to join the Overgeared World. It was predicted that Grid wouldn’t reject him. Metatron’s heart swelled.

‘He is truly God the Father.’

A god who didn’t hate those who were lacking and instead gathered them. Metatron truly admired Grid. They highly appreciated the fact that Grid gave such an insignificant Bunhelier the chance to defeat Baal with him.

‘Therefore, the Goddess supported Grid.’

The first time they saw Grid, Metatron recognized it immediately. The blessing of the Goddess on Grid. It had been a force that supported Grid since he was only the lowest status being. It would’ve helped Grid overcome all the trials he went through. Therefore, Metatron was favorable to Grid. Not only were they fascinated by Grid’s feats, but they also recognized Grid as a similar existence.

The Goddess’ apostle...

[This damn bastard...]

Bunhelier growled. He harbored hatred for Metatron, who ignored his pleas for help and had other thoughts.

Metatron ignored him to the end. It was judged that Bunhelier would die soon anyway. In reality—

Magic power was repeatedly condensing in front of Nevartan’s snout. At first glance, it was the precursor to more than a dozen Breaths.

[But Bunhelier. You obviously crossed the line. I didn’t expect you to repent for your mistakes, but to think you would challenge me... in a sense, you have exceeded my predictions. Maybe I should commend you.]

After it was overlapped, dozens of Breaths formed a giant sphere. It was affected by Nevartan’s movement as he shook his head.

Unification—no matter how many Breaths Nevartan created or how their power soared, they became an absolute force when combined as one. It wasn’t separate so the operation speed was very slow.

[No, your attitude of challenging me head-on without playing tricks is beyond forgiveness. Give up on any help. Die.]

Flash!

The sphere of dark magic power, condensed like a giant planet, glowed.

‘Really. This is real death.’

Bunhelier sensed his death. It was said that he was born weak among the Old Dragons. Bunhelier wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t distinguish his end. He had developed in return for defeating Baal with Grid. He was the only one of the Old Dragons to raise his level, which was at the limit, and all his stats rose. His body had become a bit bigger than before, so he reached Nevartan’s eye level to a certain extent. It was easy to see that he couldn’t handle the bombardment of Breaths that spread like a beam of light and filled his vision.

[Shit...]

If he had the same power as Raiders, he would’ve gone back in time and not challenged Nevartan.

[I want to complain!]

If he had Trauka’s physical body—

He would’ve flown through the bombardment of Breaths and bitten Nevartan on the neck.

[Why only me...!!]

Even at the last moment, Bunhelier cursed the fate that had been bestowed upon him. He didn’t blame Grid. Considering that person’s personality, it was unlikely Grid would’ve deliberately ignored his request for help.

‘I guess he couldn’t shake off Chiyou.’

That’s right—Bunhelier knew what was happening with Grid. Nevertheless, he got into an accident. He was overconfident in the power he had developed...

‘It is worse than dogs.’

It was over. As Bunhelier’s resentment was directed at the tower members, who never showed up, a refraction of light occurred in all directions. The trajectory of the Breaths bombarding Bunhelier was twisted in all directions.

[...Hmm?]

A stream of blood flowed from Bunhelier’s cheek as he tilted his head. It was the aftermath of being cut by his own Breath, which was returned to him.

‘Is it the tower members?’

Death, which couldn’t be avoided, arbitrarily missed him...

Bunhelier was puzzled for a while without understanding the sudden situation. Then he quickly grasped the situation. He smiled slightly as he felt an ignorant liking toward the tower members whom he had just been blaming and cursing at.

‘Biban? No. That was... it is correct to interpret it as Hayate himself coming.’

It was the Breath of an Old Dragon. It was also an existence who reflected dozens of Breaths of such power. It couldn’t be anyone other than the Dragon Slayer. Grid couldn’t do it either.

[I believed in...]

It was only natural for the tower members to help him, a fellow colleague of Grid. Bunhelier became energetic and was about to shout Hayate’s name, only to stop. It was due to the presence that appeared in front of his eyes. The identity of the great being who reflected Nevartan’s Breaths and nullified the will of an Old Dragon wasn’t Hayate. It was a ‘kin’ with transparent glass-like scales and even a lower status, Cranbel...

[...What? Hayate was Cranbel?]

He had just been ready to die. Bunhelier, who was already in a state that wasn’t intact.

A top dragon helping an Old Dragon? Bunhelier was momentarily confused in the face of an improbable, transcendent event.

“”......?””

Metatron was the only one shaken by Bunhelier’s nonsense.

Dragon Slayer Hayate—it was one of the names that appeared as ‘someone to be familiar with’ after their long period of seclusion. But his true identity was a dragon?

“”The true identity of the Dragon Slayer is actually a dragon...? How many of your own kind have you been preying on?””

[...Cloaked Dragon. You are a noble child. Why do you meddle in the affairs of adults?]

Nevartan maintained his composure while the confused Bunhelier and the angels showed disgraceful appearances. He wasn’t obsessed with the ‘result’ of Cranbel interfering with him and was instead interested in why Cranbel came forward.

Cranbel didn’t budge.

[It is because most of the surface is Grid’s territory.]

It was a brief and concise explanation.

That’s right—most of the surface belonged to the Overgeared World. To add some exaggeration, it could be said that all of the surface, except for the dragon lairs, belonged to Grid. Of course, the dragons didn’t have to be conscious of this, especially the Old Dragons. It was because the ground they stepped on was theirs.

However, Nevartan’s position was unique.

[Nevartan, don’t you owe Grid?]

[... That is right. I almost bothered Grid. I’m sorry.]

Nevartan had just assessed the extent of the Breath’s explosion. It was likely that several human villages hundreds of kilometers from here were destroyed.

[But Cranbel. Why are you helping me?]

It was Bunhelier whose life was saved, but Nevartan recognized that he had been helped. It showed how much he valued his relationship with Grid.

[It is even while using the power of God. Didn’t you intend to live a normal life?]

““......?!””

A chill went down Metatron’s spine. It was because it was very rare for dragons to clearly use the title ‘God.’ The god they were talking about was likely to be ‘it.’ The Dragon God, also known as the Refractive Dragon.

A ‘concept’ that had been opposing the Gods of the Beginning every time the end came. Metatron, who recalled it from the moment they saw Cranbel’s transparent scales refracting Nevartan’s breath, felt overcome with a certain sense of duty. They felt obligated to get rid of Cranbel right away.

However, they couldn’t come forward hastily. It was because of the people who arrived at the scene just in time.

“Evil Dragon Bunhelier. Your life is tenacious, just like an Old Dragon.”

The blond-haired man standing next to Sword God Biban. It was the real Hayate. He was the first human to attain the status of an Absolute. He was the ‘only one’ until Biban became the Sword God. In any case, now he was armed with Grid’s work. He came to everyone in a special way.

[You are really late...!!]

Bunhelier looked around and lost his temper. He managed to restore his wounded body and flew to Biban and Hayate’s side.

The hesitant Metatron also moved toward them. “”Dragon Slayer. There are three of your prey here. I, Metatron, the Angel of Contract, will help you due to my awe of you.””

[This useless angel is stupid... it isn’t three, it is two.]

Nevartan stared at Bunhelier, who argued shamelessly with the angel to the end, and finally snorted.

[I’m tired of this. Forget it. Let’s stop here.]

“Thank you.” Hayate bowed politely. Ironically, it was the Dragon Slayer, who had the power to oppose them, who properly valued and respected the Old Dragons.

Nevartan’s eyes were fixed on Cranbel as he activated the return magic.

[I look forward to hearing from you next time.]

These were the final words. Nevartan’s appearance and energy disappeared like it was a lie. All that remained was for the situation to be finished. However, Metatron didn’t want to miss this opportunity. He shot a beam of light while rushing at Cranbel, who was alone.

“”If you are really the descendant of the Refractive Dragon... no, there is no way there can be any descendants. Still, you can’t be kept alive.””

[...What do you want to do?]

Bunhelier frowned and Biban made the same expression.