Chapter 295

Jerolen hadn’t worried for a long time. He no longer hesitated when piercing the enemy’s chest. Whether there was a way or not, it wasn’t enough to spare their life.

With a tearing laughter, the enemy’s body crumbled. It scattered beyond this dimension, becoming a mere concept. It wasn’t the sound of eternal end, but an echo of a doom that would return.

“What’s the way?”

“Revive the gods. If this dimension is shaped by concepts, then the return of the gods could overwrite their existence.”

Malerun’s proposal was straightforward. Revive the gods who had become spirits, lost their power, and faded. Then reclaim the Temple of the Gods’ domain as the territory of the gods, purging the scattered thoughts of the enemy.

But then, Guimerin spoke.

“That sounds too dangerous.”

“What?”

“How much time would it take? And during that time, could our kin survive? If the war continues, we might face our end in a hundred years. After the gods disappear and the World Tree burns, how much time would we have left?”

They couldn’t tell their kin what happened here. The truth was that their gods had fallen into the hands of demons, and their ancestors, who had died, had fed the demons’ souls.

But hiding the truth wasn’t the answer either. The demons were dead, the Temple of the Gods was in ruins, and now the World Tree would wither.

What would follow was all too clear. Civil war.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“We take these.”

“These…? The gods…?”

Guimerin pointed to the fragments left by the ancestral gods.

“Even if these revive and regain their power, they’ve already been defeated once. If the price was all of us becoming spoils of war, there’s no reason to give them another chance.”

“Then….”

“We become the gods. Survive forever, as they said. If they awaken when our race is on the brink of extinction, we’ll create a race that will never perish. If civil war breaks out, we’ll lead the charge and end the war as quickly as possible.”

Guimerin bent down and picked up the spirit. As if intoxicated by its radiant power, he closed his eyes and savored the divine spirit.

“Let’s go back.”

The three would become kings. They would overthrow the three dynasties, mere priests of the demons, and usher in a new era. Gathering their pitiful people, who mourned the burned World Tree and the lost traces of the gods—

They would take revenge. On these remnants who gambled with the fate of a race. Reviving those once called ancestors, and for even longer, ‘gods.’

“Then, we won’t be servants of the gods. The gods will serve us, forever serving all of us.”

These weak gods, who had sacrificed all their followers to the demons and barely survived, were no longer needed. The elves could be great on their own.

That’s what they thought. Guimerin gathered the divine spirits, Malerun shattered and divided them, and Jerolen—

* * *

“He followed without a word.”

He poured a drink with regret-filled eyes.

“Everyone in the Temple of the Gods died. Followers, demons, everything. Before leaving, we had to clean meticulously to leave no trace. When we crossed the gateway to return after a long time….”

The curse of time had touched them too. The price for killing their race’s gods and devouring their spirits.

“You will not tread history. It was the one curse left by the fragments of the gods we devoured. The moment we set foot on the land, we faced ruined cities and kingdoms. Only those who had lost power and become refugees in the war. No longer were there great, noble, strong elves.”

Only refugees who had lost their faith, authority, power, and even pride remained. The three heroes tried to save and lead the refugees scattered across the land.

At first, they regretted their choices.

Then, they cursed the rise of the demons.

Finally, they blamed the weakness of the defeated gods.

It wasn’t us who were wrong, but our gods. The three who killed the gods for their race now looked at the people following them and thought. They were no longer heroes. They were not the chosen ones destined to save their race.

The three tyrants suddenly thought of their followers as pigs in a pen.

They couldn’t share power with these weaklings. Someone wiser and more capable had to lead them.

But the three tyrants also thought of each other. ‘You are not.’ They had already experienced enough in the Temple of the Gods after absorbing the power of all the gods.

Power that couldn’t be given to the incompetent, nor taken by the overly capable. Holding the shattered divinity of the Elven Temple of the Gods—

The three tyrants went their separate ways. Leaving the continent that rejected them, heading to the ocean. Even if they drifted forever, they were willing.

Drifting forever might mean surviving forever.

“I heard rumors. I did some research too. Listening to the ways others sought immortality, I spent my time aging in disgust. I wasn’t as talented as them.”

Guimerin, who went east, is said to have learned the secret of body transference from a witch on the eastern coast. To prepare the most suitable body, he created descendants.

Malerun, who went north, imitated the method used by Aidaar. To maintain his body’s composition, he extracted elf souls and implanted them into his own body.

Jerolen, who couldn’t find such a method, was fading with time.

* * *

“A dragon’s body is immortal, Fernandez. Then why do you think there are no more dragons in this era?”

“Because their spirits are not.”

“Exactly.”

Lisir smiled softly. Perhaps it was a dragon’s trait. Her smile was strikingly similar to Abel’s.

“You’re a mage.”

“Yes.”

“Then do you understand why such a powerful body houses such a feeble soul?”

You couldn’t call a dragon’s soul feeble. But he understood her meaning. Fernandez looked at Lisir with sunken eyes.

Dragons are unstable beings. They possess the body of an immortal and the soul of a mortal. Their bodies could be described as the pinnacle of evolution. The ultimate product a living being could achieve.

But while the body could evolve with generations, what about the soul? In the distant past, their savage…








Compared to the souls of humans back then, are the souls of humans in this era superior?

Nope. Out of the four elements that make up a spirit—soul, essence, spirit, and body—the body only contributes about 10%.

If divinity can reside at the pinnacle of existence, then a dragon’s body is a natural god created by evolution itself. But because their souls couldn’t match that level, their minds slowly deteriorated over the long lifespan their bodies provided.

That’s the madness of ancient dragons. The frenzy of old dragons, now only told in myths and legends.

“How did you survive?”

So, this is the biggest issue. He intuitively realized that Jerolen’s method of survival and Lacrisil’s weren’t so different. The method that made two beings, who couldn’t achieve immortality, live forever must still reside within her.

“A dragon’s body can contain divinity.”

If a being has enough of what can be called ‘power,’ it will radiate divinity. So, the fact that divinity can be contained within a god’s body created by nature is almost a confirmation of an already proven truth.

“And he had fragments of a god.”

“Like the other Serpent Kings… Yeah, that makes sense.”

Just as Guimerin tried to implant divine fragments into Abel’s corpse to resurrect the goddess, using the same method isn’t impossible.

In fact, fragments of Melisildur remain within Abel’s body. The goddess’s divinity ensures her lifespan.

If there’s a power that can resurrect a dead dragon in this world… then filling the unstable soul of a living dragon would be an easy task. So, the remaining issue is—

“You used divine power.”

“Exactly. To be more precise, I bound his soul and my soul together. If one of us dies, the other will die too.”

“You modified a demon’s contract.”

Just as demons grant power in exchange for their followers’ souls, you adapted that kind of contract system. Fernandez quickly understood what she had done.

She is now a ‘created god.’ A perfect god, crafted by Guimerin, by mixing the body of a living god with fragments of a dead god. And the contract she made with Jerolen isn’t so different from the bond between a god and their disciple. It was a method of trading souls to ensure immortality, much like devouring faith and bestowing power.

“No, it was… a very romantic proposal.”

Lissil blushed and denied it. Fernandez felt a familiar déjà vu. Was this irrational, romance-obsessed behavior also a trait of dragons?

Lissil nodded firmly and continued.

“Only death can separate us. The only… well, as you put it, ‘contract’ we made.”

* * *

“Guimerin wanted to become a god himself using divine power, and Malerun tried to become a Great Demon by borrowing the methods of the Great Demon. I just wanted to survive.”

Leia didn’t respond to his words. They all now realized that his words were true. Or at least contained a grain of truth.

A solemn atmosphere weighed down the room. It was like a courtroom where a living witness of history, the death of gods and the fall of their servants, was testifying.

This was closer to confession or repentance. The once-great hero’s sole desire, after years of struggle, was merely the ‘instinct to survive.’ It was a sight that seemed to symbolize the decline of the elves.

“Just as Guimerin had ‘coincidence,’ I too had a coincidence come my way.”

“…That was…”

“Yes. Atailatl. The meeting of two remnants of the two races that fought so fiercely during the war. A young dragon, surviving the madness of ancient dragons, landed on my capital ship to rest its tired wings in the storm.”

“Did you see it as an opportunity? A chance to survive?”

“No. I saw it as a chance to… lessen my burden, my regrets.”

An old elf approached the young dragon, lost in sorrow and exhaustion. The summer storm over the western sea was fierce, and there was no island in the ocean where the dragon’s massive body could rest.

The dragon boarded the elves’ capital ship to survive. It was a gamble that would never have happened during the Celestial War, when elves and dragons were enemies.

And the young dragon, who remembered that era, and the old elf, who had lived through it, looked at each other on the stormy deck and felt a kind of kinship.

You wanted to survive.

You survived.

Now, the lone dragon and the elf, becoming the last remnant of an era, fell in love without needing to say a word.

“I implanted divine fragments into the dragon’s body. She became complete, and I found light in her embrace. If I had a god, it wouldn’t be the fragments that died and disappeared, but her herself.”

“Really can’t stand this.”

Leia, having missed the timing to get angry, grumbled and picked up her drink. As her anger subsided and the shock that had filled the banquet hall dissipated, the Wild Princes also sighed and raised their glasses in toast to the queen.

“This guy and that guy, lovers this and that, just chattering away.”

“To Her Majesty the Queen!”

“Shut up!”

Leia growled and downed her drink. She made a sound, wiped her mouth, and then asked.

“Melisildur is alive. The goddess has given me a direct command.”

“To gather divine fragments and resurrect the god?”

“Yes.”

“It’s meaningless. The ancient gods have no power to oppose demons. Their only power was cursing their own creations. Why should we resurrect such beings, and why should we become slaves to them?”

“Then is there another way? Another way for us to walk the earth, to restore our domain, to revive our people?”

The elves were declining. Not just during the Celestial War, but even now. Once a great race that dominated the continent, they had now dwindled to a minority of less than fifty thousand.

The extinction of their race was near. And she had the duty to secure the safety of her people and revive the nation.

“If the era when the Great Demon and the gods opposed each other is called the Celestial War, who do you think won the war?”

“…What?”

Leia’s brow furrowed at the sudden question. Jerolen spoke with a blank expression.

“The winners of the war are the survivors. Who rules the continent now? From that era, when countless tribes and nations fell, the continent shattered, and the sky crumbled, until now, who has survived and seized power?”

“…Humans?”

“Exactly. Whether you call that era the Great War or the Great Exodus, no one would deny that this is the era of humans.”

The gods retreated, the Great Demon was sealed, the dragons went extinct, the dwarves disappeared, and the elves were driven out. The race that endured that chaotic era is now the protagonist of this age.

The most insignificant and weak. With short lifespans, frail bodies, and easily tempted fragile souls. Yet.

Even if the civilization they built with all their might crumbles, even if all they have left in their hands is willpower. Those who bend their backs, pick up old tools, and start again.

They are called the flame. Even if they burn their souls and lives to take just one step forward. The next person, and the one after, will also take that step and eventually carve out a path.

The era of the flame. That’s what the race that remains on this continent is called.

“That’s the only hope I see.”