The murmurs grew louder, the words ringing in my ears.
“Did he say dragon?”
“A dragon? What’s going on?”
The sound of voices swirled around , joined by an oppressive wave of stares.
Everyone had turned to look, reacting to the word that Myung Song had blurted out in shock.
And it wasn’t just their gazes—it was the emotions I could feel emanating from them.
There was anger, fear, and even hints of resentnt and confusion.
But the important thing was clear:
‘None of this is positive.’
Every single reaction was filled with negativity.
I glanced down at my palm, still throbbing. The skin looked like it had been lted away. Then, I turned my gaze to Myung Song’s hand.
‘It’s that.’
The reason my hand was like this was simple—it was because of Myung Song’s hand.
The tal gloves he wore.
Touching them had done this to .
‘…’
I narrowed my eyes, examining the gloves closely. I could tell imdiately that they weren’t ordinary.
‘This is why I ca here.’
The reason I had bothered to visit the blacksmith at Mount Hua. The gloves confird it.
I shook my hand out, flinging away bits of burned skin that peeled off in the process.
The damage wasn’t shallow, but the area was small enough that it would heal quickly if I left it alone.
‘…Hm?’
At least, that’s what I thought.
But sothing felt off.
‘The healing’s slow.’
Compared to my usual recovery speed, it was painfully sluggish—at least twice as slow.
I hid my hand behind my back, trying to ignore the oddity for now, though the stares continued to weigh on .
Then—
“Are you… a dragon?”
Myung Song’s voice broke through the tension, his gaze locked onto as he asked.
What should I even say to that?
The question wasn’t just a question—it carried the weight of certainty. And if he was so certain, the reason had to be…
‘It’s those gloves.’
The tal gloves Myung Song wore. And also—
‘The swords carried by Gubong and Seol Yeong.’
The weapons wielded by Mount Hua’s first disciples.
I still hadn’t forgotten the ti I beat the crap out of Gubong.
During that fight, his sword had felt… odd. It hadn’t posed much of a threat to , but there was sothing about it that lingered in my mind.
‘That sword was strange.’
I rembered the unsettling sensation it gave during the fight.
In fact, it was easier to deal with him when he wasn’t holding the sword at all.
The mory had nagged at , so I’d done so digging.
It was worth investigating because the feeling had been so unusual. From that research, I had learned a few things.
First:
‘Only the first disciples have unique swords.’
I’d only t two of Mount Hua’s disciples so far, but both had carried identical swords.
I confird this when I t a second disciple at Yahwol Palace and during a sparring match with a third disciple.
Both Gubong and Seol Yeong carried the sa type of sword, and I felt the sa unsettling aura from Seol Yeong’s weapon.
So, I asked Gubong directly about the swords.
When I questioned him about where they ca from, he told they were custom-made by the blacksmith here.
The origin was clear: the blacksmith and his forge.
The mont I realized that, I had to know more about these swords.
‘What are they?’
What made them feel so ominous? And—
‘Is it the swords themselves, or is it the materials?’
If it was the materials, what was so cursed about them?
Now, it was clear.
‘It’s the materials.’
The problem wasn’t the craftsmanship—it was the tal itself.
Even as my burned arm throbbed painfully, I kept my gaze on Myung Song.
He stared back at , full of suspicion.
He had asked if I was a dragon.
I t his gaze and asked in return, “Would it be a problem if I were?”
“…”
Myung Song didn’t answer.
But I could feel his unease intensify.
Silence has a way of amplifying emotions.
Just as Myung Song’s wariness rose, so did the tension in the room.
The atmosphere beca increasingly hostile.
Hmm.
I mulled over my options. What should I do?
To be honest, I wanted to deny it, but—
‘They’re already convinced.’
It was too late for that.
Besides, the fact that they were so certain ant the tal was connected to dragons in so way.
“Hey, Myung Song, what are you saying? There’s no way the honored guest is…”
Seol Yeong stepped in, trying to defuse the situation with a strained smile.
But—
“Well, they do call that sotis.”
“…!”
I shattered her attempt at calming things down with my words.
“…What…”
Myung Song gasped in disbelief, but it wasn’t long before his expression hardened.
With a loud clatter, he grabbed a hamr from nearby and pointed it at .
“A dragon? Are you really a dragon?”
“Well, that’s not good. Let’s calm down first.”
“How dare you co here…!!”
As soon as the word “dragon” left my mouth, Myung Song lunged at , swinging the hamr.
Bang!
I sidestepped, and the hamr smashed into the ground, leaving cracks in the floor.
“How did you escape…! Have you co to tornt us again?”
“…That’s not what this is—”
“Die!!”
“Sigh.”
He wasn’t listening.
With a crazed look in his eyes, he swung the hamr relentlessly, destroying everything in his path.
If this continued, the blacksmith’s workshop would be in ruins.
I had to stop him.
Stretching out my hand, I grabbed his collar mid-charge.
“Eiii—!!”
Using a bit of force, I slamd him into the ground.
Boom!
“Gah…!”
Even as he lay sprawled, he flailed his arms, trying to attack again.
So I punched his jaw.
Smack!
“Urgh…!”
The strike knocked him out instantly. Only after he was unconscious did the chaos settle.
“Hah…”
I straightened up, looking down at the unconscious Myung Song.
But—
“…”
“A dragon… it’s a dragon…”
“Why…? We barely escaped, and now…”
The others in the workshop were still paralyzed with fear.
If anything, subduing Myung Song had made things worse.
“No, listen…”
I tried to explain, but—
“Eek—!!”
“It’s going to eat us alive…!”
My words only seed to fuel their panic.
What should I do?
I was stuck, scratching my head in frustration, when—
“Honored guest… let’s just leave.”
Seol Yeong grabbed my arm urgently.
Setting her basket of fabric and needles on the floor, she shouted, “I’ll co back for these later! I’m so sorry!”
With that, she pulled outside. Too confused to resist, I allowed myself to be dragged along.
*************************
Seol Yeong pulled along as we left the forge.
Her hurried steps carried us quite a distance in a short ti.
Thud!
Suddenly, the grip on my arm loosened. It wasn’t because she let go, but because Cheonma had grabbed her hand and yanked it away.
“Let go. They’re not watching anymore,” Cheonma said, looking at Seol Yeong.
Indeed, I couldn’t sense any lingering gazes with my heightened senses.
Even so, Cheonma seed to glare at Seol Yeong with a strangely dissatisfied expression. Ignoring her, I turned to Seol Yeong and asked:
“…What’s this about?”
I needed answers.
“Honored guest,” Seol Yeong said with a serious expression.
“Are you really… a dragon?”
“They seem to think so, don’t they?”
If everyone insisted on calling that, it must be true, right? I shrugged and answered lightly, but her eyes widened in response.
Seeing her reaction, I pressed further.
“Why? Is it such a big deal if I am?”
Why was it such a problem? The Myriad Realms was a place where all kinds of races gathered. Surely a dragon wouldn’t be that unusual, right?
‘Of course, I did hear dragons were extinct and couldn’t enter the Myriad Realms.’
Was that the issue? Even so, it didn’t seem to fully explain the fear and hostility I encountered back there.
“…If you truly are a dragon, honored guest, then yes, it is a problem.”
“Why? What’s the reason?”
“Do you truly not know?”
“Would I be asking if I did?”
If I knew, I wouldn’t be questioning you.
My irritation was clear as I frowned, and she hesitated before continuing.
“I don’t know all the details, but… I’ve heard that dragons vanished long ago because of sothing that happened. They can no longer set foot in the Myriad Realms.”
That much I already knew.
“And that’s why those old n hate dragons?”
“No… it goes deeper than that.”
Deeper than the current situation?
“Then what is it?”
“Well…”
She hesitated again, chewing her lips as if reluctant to speak. But I needed to hear this.
So I waited in silence until she finally said:
“I heard that before the dragons disappeared, Myung Song’s race was enslaved by them.”
Her words made my brows knit instinctively.
“…Slaves?”
Slaves? Did she an the kind of slaves I was thinking of?
“Yes. Actual slaves.”
“…Wait, not a taphorical term, but literally—”
“Truly treated as subhuman, like property,” she said.
“…Damn.”
The dragons had enslaved another race. That explained the reactions I’d seen back there.
‘How did you escape…! Have you co back to tornt us?’
That’s what Myung Song had yelled.
If what Seol Yeong said was true…
‘They must have suffered greatly under the dragons.’
How much suffering must they have endured to react that way?
Their eyes reminded …
‘Of how I view the Demonic Cult.’
No, it was more like the way I’d look at soone I had a truly wretched history with.
That was the best comparison I could make.
“Hm.”
Rubbing my chin, I pondered the situation. What now?
As I thought, Seol Yeong spoke again.
“Honored guest… I don’t know why the sect leader brought you here, but…”
Her voice was cautious, her words carefully chosen.
“If he brought you here, I’m sure he had his reasons.”
Hearing that, I glanced at her.
“However, considering Myung Song’s perspective… please don’t think too poorly of him.”
“Why would I?”
Her cautious tone softened as I responded. If their circumstances were as she described, it wasn’t hard to understand Myung Song’s reaction.
“Oh.”
Relief washed over her face as she smiled. It seed she’d been worried I would take offense and lash out.
“Thank you for understanding… I’ll talk to him and make sure he calms down. I’ll ensure he stays out of sight.”
She spoke with a sense of resolution, but her last words made interrupt.
“That won’t work.”
“What?”
Her expression shifted to confusion.
“What do you an it won’t work?”
“I an, he can’t stay out of sight. I need to see him.”
“You an… you intend to et Myung Song again?”
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be him…”
But judging by what I’d seen earlier, he seed to be the one in charge.
“So for now, yes.”
“But…”
She trailed off, but her reluctance was clear. I could already guess what she was thinking.
Because I was a dragon, eting with them would be difficult.
That was the impression I got from her hesitation.
“It’s fine.”
I brushed off her concerns.
After all—
“I’m not good at being friendly anyway.”
If they were scared, I’d handle it accordingly. Unfortunately—
‘I’m not in a position to be considerate.’
I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about their feelings.
If they feared and kept their distance, that was even better.
Historically speaking—
“Nothing is more effective for control than fear.”
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