"It’s enough, Nicholas,"
Philip’s weak and faint voice erged from the massive mudstone creature: "This form is too ugly."
"What does it matter if it is ugly?"
The flightless demonic dragon sneered, conversing with another consciousness within itself: "As long as victory is achieved, any ans can be forgiven.
"For the people born in the ’future after victory,’ all costs are ’necessary’ to reach this current state. Even if people criticize history, they must face it and acknowledge its necessity and value...
"Otherwise, it would be equivalent to denying their own existence."
"Even for victory, are you willing to give everything?"
Philip’s voice rang out again: "Even if it’s a dismal victory where no one can smile?"
"Under any circumstances, I will not compromise."
The demonic dragon declared impassively: "Because victory is victory, it surpasses everything. No victory is ’unworthy.’"
Encased in a thick shell, crafted from the coiled earth, just like a hermit crab.
Even though it had already stolen Annan’s dragon body and possessed the gold blood that could greatly enhance elental power—and at that ti, Annan hadn’t even transford, and those players were rely at the silver rank...
Even so.
Even holding such a great advantage, it still avoided combat.
After it released the "Triple Great Hers’ Dust of Poison," it could have simply charged and banished all the players from this world.
Yet, it still shrank back, fearing that a rash attack might spring a trap set by a player or by Annan.
After all, the defensive line created by the poison dust was sufficient to banish any players approaching it. All it needed was to quietly wait for them to break under pressure and attack... falling right into the fatal trap the demonic dragon had set in advance.
Even as Philip cursed him, he didn’t think of spitting Philip out—securing Philip’s support might further strengthen Annan.
Since maintaining this balance was the most suitable posture "towards victory," he wouldn’t allow any variations.
"Besides pointless conversations, I absolutely won’t do anything extra."
"From the very beginning... all my strategies were for the sake of ’victory.’"
The demonic dragon scoffed: "I’m different from you, a loser like you, Philip. I clearly know what I can do, what I should do, and when I shouldn’t, I absolutely don’t.
"You can call my tactics ugly or curse all you want, but I will never drop my guard. All I want is victory; if ’honor’ makes your defeat more pleasant, then you might as well reprimand for having no honor."
The demonic dragon clearly didn’t care about such things.
Rather, pursuing "victory" itself was an instinct deeply engraved in its soul.
"Did you ever wonder why I never summoned my exalted false body despite being at such a disadvantage?
"Because the elent I possess is [Victory]. It can only be summoned when victory is assured."
The iron law of this world is that all power cos at a price.
Since the conditions are so stringent, it signifies the strength of the power.
—[Victory] Elent.
When manifested, it allows the bearer to grasp the concept of "victory."
If it’s a clash of fists, one’s own fist will always be slightly heavier than the opponent’s; if it’s a contest of breaths, then one’s breath will ultimately overwhelm the other’s.
In a contest of speed, one will finally run faster than the opponent; in a contest of wisdom, one will think deeper than the other; if two people are locked in a fight to the death, the one who ultimately stands will be the "victor."
The [Victory] Elent is precisely the elent that extracts and embodies this concept.
If you always adopt a head-on strategy against the opponent, the [Victory] Elent will always be "just a little bit stronger."
That little bit may not be much, but it’s enough to seize a real victory.
The demonic dragon declared calmly: "I can indeed summon the exalted false body now and strike you fatally—I’ve clearly realized that victory is calling .
"But I refuse."
Even though it had already gained a dominant position satisfying the conditions for activating the exalted false body, the demonic dragon still refused to engage in a final battle with Annan at this mont.
The reason was simple—its advantage was not yet substantial enough.
"Why do I not use the power of the Philosopher’s Stone? Because the elent of ’victory’ is originally aningless...
"If I need it to achieve victory, it ans I’ve fallen into an absolute disadvantage, and thus cannot activate it; but if I already have the advantage, even a victory, I don’t need the elental power to seize victory."
"The Elent of Victory..."
Philip’s sighing voice, heavy and resonant, erged: "Such a brightly indomitable pure power, it’s a pity it’s in your hands."
"Indeed."
Nicholas II did not refute but agreed: "Although I am a believer in victory, precisely because of this, I don’t need the Elent of Victory... If it were [Wisdom] or [Understanding], that would be better.
"The more one craves victory, the less one waits for miracles."
"I understand."
Philip spoke calmly: "After all, I share your blood... You and I are similar.
"Just as you crave victory, I crave survival."
"—That’s quite a graceless wish."
The demonic dragon scoffed back at Philip: "Just surviving is too simple. Living like livestock is also just survival."
"You’re right, even if it’s as livestock."
Philip spoke calmly: "If you’re dead, there’s nothing left. Death ends everything, and everyone will eventually forget ... as if exiting the ga completely.
"But I actually know, no matter how much I want to survive, people will ultimately die. I heard the bell toll last night; I can’t escape it anymore.
"I detest death, even if it’s a glorious one."
"Lord Philip, my respected ancestor. Is it still tily to say such things?"
The demonic dragon laughed loudly.
"Although I sent soone to take your head, as far as I know... you didn’t object then, did you? At that ti, you had already heard the call of the Bell Ringer—you were already going to die, so you ca to !
"I extended your life! If you truly crave survival, even if it ans being kept like livestock, then you should thank !"
"—You’re wrong."
Philip’s voice was weak, but very clear.
The one who had returned from the fourth layer of history thus spoke.
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