---

With a loud “Kung!”, the tower shook violently once again. The vibrations felt as if it could collapse at any moment. For a spear-wielder, unstable footing was the worst possible situation, but Conra was too bewildered to even focus on that.

“Waking up so suddenly?”

The main culprit causing the boy’s distress was none other than the very being currently thrashing around with enough force to bring down the tower.

Even now, the creature let out a bizarre roar, “Kweaaaak!”, writhing left and right. The tower, caught in its frenzy, creaked and groaned, shaking in real-time.

Conra had already figured out the identity of the rampaging creature. How could he not? The shadow passing through the stained glass and the raspy, dry roars echoing from time to time—it was unmistakably a dragon. And in this area, there was only one dragon that could cause such chaos.

{It seems the seal on the Sugeum has been broken, and the music that kept it asleep has stopped, waking it up.}

The words of Spirit Esras-Hermes only reinforced Conra’s judgment. It was undoubtedly Haegis, the chicken-headed dragon that had been coiled around the tower, sleeping just moments ago.

But this was too fast. According to Spirit Rugus-Artaeus, Haegis had been put to sleep by the Sugeum around the time the giant city was built. The dungeon’s design was likely set to coincide with Jack O’Lantern’s fall of the giant city.

The time from the city’s beginning to its end was no short period. There was no way a creature that had slept for so long could suddenly become so active. At the very least, it would need time to fully awaken…

{It’s not fully awake yet.}

‘What do you mean?’

{Even so, dragons are an intelligent race that built their own civilization using their innate spellcasting abilities. Even if Haegis was treated as a bastard among dragons, it’s still a dragon. Remember, a dragon’s true strength isn’t in its physical power.}

‘Wait, are you saying…?’

Conra was stunned. Was it possible that the chicken-headed dragon was simply thrashing around in a state of instinctual rage, not fully awake?

Indeed, it was strange that it wasn’t casting any spells. If it was still half-asleep, that explanation made sense. And once Conra understood the situation, his next move naturally came to mind.

‘Wait, does that mean this is the perfect opportunity?’

{An opportunity for what?}

‘To escape without fighting that chicken-headed eel.’

{Indeed.}

Frankly, Conra had no reason to face Haegis head-on at this point. His goal was to free the artifacts and clear the dungeon, not hunt a rampaging dragon.

If possible, avoiding conflict would be the best option. With that in mind, Conra cautiously rolled his foot.

‘Still, the first priority is to get out of this tower before it collapses.’

Looking around, the tower was still standing, though trembling under the dragon’s thrashing. The nearby structures, built by the giants who had achieved a civilization rivaling the Bronze Age, were holding up surprisingly well.

But it seemed they were reaching their limit. The tower’s protective energy, tied to the artifacts, had been released, leaving the tower to rely solely on its structural integrity. It wouldn’t last much longer.

Sure enough, the next shockwave felt different.

The sound of “Kugung!” wasn’t unusual, but what followed was. The sound of something collapsing—rocks tumbling down. Part of the tower’s wall had already given way.

If this continued, the space Conra was standing in wouldn’t remain safe for long. For a warrior wielding a weapon, this was not good news.

When a warrior needs to respond to a changing situation, the best state to be in is one of complete readiness. Any movement already in progress would hinder their ability to react to new developments.

As Conra’s thoughts lingered, Spirit Rugus-Artaeus urged him to move.

{Whatever you plan to do, hurry up.}

‘Ah, right, thanks for the reminder.’

{You can use the boots now.}

‘Yeah, now’s the time.’

Conra nodded in agreement with the spirit’s advice.

The reason he hadn’t been able to use the boots’ effect to instantly reach the boss room earlier was due to the tower’s protective energy flow. This energy not only protected the tower but also blocked spatial movement within and around it.

But now that the artifacts had been freed and the energy flow dissipated, the spatial barrier was gone.

There was no reason not to use the boots’ power. As if to emphasize the urgency, another shockwave caused the floor to tilt vertically. It was time to move.

‘Alright, let’s go!’

In the next moment, Conra’s figure vanished into the air as if submerged in water.

A moment later, Conra reappeared in mid-air, some distance away. Like a poorly made boomerang, his body spun wildly, tracing a distorted parabola.

“Whoooa!”

Swallowing a gulp of air, Conra immediately twisted his body, using his light-footed technique to stabilize himself. After a few more steps in the air, he finally managed to land, letting out an unconscious sigh of relief.

Though he had recently experienced flying through the sky with his master Sophia, involuntary flight was still a nerve-wracking experience.

“Phew, why does this keep happening?”

Conra muttered, his heart still racing.

{It seems using the boots’ power in such an unstable situation wasn’t a good idea.}

{That seems to be the case. The moment you jumped, there was a violent spatial tremor. It’s fortunate the jump was short; a longer one would have had much worse recoil. The space itself might have twisted, sending you who knows where.}

As Spirit Rugus-Artaeus speculated, Spirit Esras-Hermes added more precise observations. Hearing this, Conra shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“One more recoil like that, and I’d be a goner.”

Of course, Conra’s tongue-clicking was quickly silenced by Spirit Esras-Hermes’s sharp retort.

{You brought this on yourself. Why did you wait until the footing was completely unstable to activate the boots? You could have done it much earlier.}

“Ouch, that hurts. I’ll admit, that’s something I need to reflect on.”

Though the criticism stung, Conra had to admit it was fair. He decided to humbly accept the advice.

Just then.

With a deafening “Keshaaaat!”, the tower finally began to collapse. The massive structure crumbled like a poorly stacked block toy, a sight impressive even to Conra, who had seen his fair share of battles.

Watching the surreal scene, Conra clicked his tongue.

‘No matter how I look at it, swinging a spear at that seems like a waste. Escaping was definitely the smarter move.’

{It’s up to you to decide, but you should move first.}

‘Huh?’

At Spirit Rugus-Artaeus’s sudden urging, Conra tilted his head in confusion. But the next moment, his instincts kicked in, sending a chill down his spine. He kicked off the ground, sliding away as if pulled by something.

And just in time, as an unprecedented force swept through the space he had just occupied.

“What the heck was that?”

Conra couldn’t make sense of the attack that had just missed him.

First, the nature of the force was incomprehensible.

Typically, spell-based attacks had clear, defined properties. Fire spells replicated combustion through heat, while ice spells replicated cooling by stealing heat.

All these phenomena were executed through the use of mana. Burning, freezing, crushing, paralyzing, pushing, slashing—the effects of mana could manifest in countless ways.

Sometimes it mixed and seeped, other times it clashed, remained still, or violently expanded. It could stick stubbornly, slip away, or solidify—mana’s effects were incredibly diverse.

But the common thread was that all these transformations were tied to the spell’s composition, particularly its “elemental” manifestation.

For example, fire-based mana would cause heating, not cooling, and lightning-based mana would surge violently, not remain calm. Even in the mysterious world of spells, there were inherent rules and logic.

So if it was a “spell,” there had to be a unique “principle” behind it. An experienced spellcaster could usually guess the underlying mechanism of a spell they saw. But this…

“I have no idea. What is that?”

Not only was the nature of the force unclear, but its method and direction were also incomprehensible.

It seemed to remain still, yet also thrash wildly. It felt solid, yet also intangible like an illusion. It was misty and viscous, yet also slippery like melting ice.

It seemed to heat, yet also steal heat. It pressed down, yet also felt like it was trying to burst or twist and tear in all directions. It felt sharp, yet also blunt.

The attack came from the front, but the impact was felt from behind. It rotated smoothly, yet also bounced at sharp angles. It leaped lightly, yet also struck heavily, digging in or cutting cleanly.

Did it persistently tighten? No, it fiercely coiled in an instant.

A cold flame burning at absolute zero, a freezing mist that evaporated matter, a calm lightning bolt, flowing, undulating rocks, trajectories overlapping in the same spacetime coordinates with reversed causality—all these contradictory, impossible phenomena were condensed within that torrent of power.

And on top of that, the sheer volume of power was unprecedented. An overwhelming amount of mana, with incomprehensible mass and density, had just swept past him.

All Conra could grasp was the range of destruction it left and the direction it came from.

The attack had swept through a distance of nearly a league (3 miles) from its origin, passing through where Conra had just stood. Its width was about several dozen adult strides.

{That was a dragon’s breath. One of the most iconic weapons of the dragon race. Ancient dragons, those who have lived long enough to elevate their status, can occasionally imbue their breath with abilities that reach the realm of “law.”}

{Dragons existed in our era too, but this is interesting. The dragons of our time didn’t use such breaths. Instead, they tamed precious gems with their powers to create miracles.}

‘Dragons from the Silver Age? That’s definitely an interesting topic. But I don’t think now’s the time to dwell on it.’

Conra forced a dry laugh, sweating profusely. A dragon’s breath, huh? That incomprehensible, immeasurable, unprecedented attack that had just swept past him. As he tried to trace its origin, Conra realized he had locked eyes with the one who had unleashed it. And in that moment, he understood.

The chicken-headed dragon, Haegis, was staring at him with a gaze filled with malice and madness, yet also sharp intelligence.

‘Master, I think we’re in big trouble…’

Conra felt like crying as he stood there, legs trembling, forcing out a hollow laugh.

 

---