Chapter 39

Chapter 39. Oppa’s Weapon Shattered?

Just how much time had slipped away while I was blacked out?

A thick haze still clouded my senses, straddling the line between a lingering slumber and wakefulness.

What had transpired right before darkness overtook me?

Right. Having barely conquered the Gate, I retreated to Rokan’s domain to weather the severe strain of invoking Dragon Tongue, only to collapse immediately afterward.

That meant I was resting within Rokan’s lair right now.

As clarity gradually returned to my mind, my eyelids fluttered open.

“Ugh…”

The first view meeting my gaze was the recognizable stone ceiling of Rokan’s retreat.

Turning my neck slightly, I discovered that I was resting atop an unfamiliar mattress.

Rokan stood close by, and glancing toward the opposite side, I caught sight of Sia looking back at me through a massive screen.

[Oppa! Are you feeling all right? Is anything hurting?]

The moment that low groan escaped my lips and I tried to raise my upper body, Sia called out in sheer panic, frantic to verify my state.

“Yeah. Every part of me just feels worn out and sore. A good bit of rest should get me back on my feet soon enough.”

[Phew, what a relief.]

Having quieted Sia’s distress, I shifted my focus toward Rokan.

“Rokan, how long… was I out cold?”

“Roughly three full days.”

To think I had remained unconscious for such a stretch.

Never before had I stayed under for that span, and the revelation left me genuinely stunned.

As I sat there completely bewildered, Rokan placed a firm yet tender hand on me, nudging me back against the pillows.

“You still require recuperation. For the coming days, avoid lifting a finger and concentrate purely on healing.”

He proceeded to recount the events surrounding my collapse.

On the day I embarked on the raid within the Garden of Dragon Swords, Sia grew anxious when our prearranged check-in window passed without a single word from me.

Utilizing locational sorcery, she traced the coordinates of the Gate I had breached.

Upon arriving at its threshold, she realized that both the difficulty tier and the mandatory completion objective had transformed, prompting her to summon Rokan without delay.

Even with their immense draconic might, neither possessed the means to forcibly breach the sealed portal.

Thus, Rokan and Sia remained stationed outside, frantically plotting contingency measures should catastrophe strike.

At that juncture, keeping vigil was the lone recourse within their power.

A few hours later, the rift opened considerably sooner than expected.

Sia and Rokan kept an eye on me from afar, bracing for any sudden emergency.

Recognizing that approaching me in my weakened state might aggravate the volatile energy, Sia forced herself to keep her distance despite her immense worry.

Once they verified my survival, Rokan darted straight back to his sanctuary the second he watched me warp in.

Yet in that briefest of pauses, I had succumbed to exhaustion.

It felt surreal to fathom, but seventy-two hours had flown by during that lapse.

Learning how far they had gone on my behalf caused an ache of pure gratitude to swell within my chest.

“I’m so grateful, Sia. Truly, thank you.”

[Don’t say that. Oppa would have acted the exact same way if our roles were reversed. Seeing you look decent is all that matters.]

A peaceful glow returned to Sia, her lips curving into a radiant beam.

Examining her face more intently, however, revealed a network of red veins tracing her eyes.

Her exhaustion mirrored someone who had gone days without shut-eye.

“Sia, did you… pull all-nighters this whole time?”

[N-No, nothing crazy like that. Maybe just a tiny bit less sleep than usual?]

Her flustered stammer laid bare the deception, and Rokan wasted no time setting the record straight.

“She never slept a wink. Not once across those three days. She kept repeating, ‘What if Oppa opens his eyes in the dead of night?’”

Rokan had apparently volunteered to handle the watch during daylight hours so she could catch up on rest, yet Sia had stubbornly dug in her heels, refusing to close her eyes.

Now that the truth was laid out, she flushed with embarrassment and looked away.

“No matter the worry, you needed to rest, Sia.”

[Still… I was terrified. How could I possibly relax?]

Her flushed cheeks and slight pout made her look utterly endearing.

The realization that perishing inside that rift would have meant never beholding that expression again sent an icy shiver down my spine.

“Now that Minjun has regained consciousness, you can finally drift off to sleep,” Rokan remarked.

[Just a few more minutes. Please? Oppa literally just opened his eyes.]

Sia pleaded just like a stubborn child avoiding bedtime.

“Listen to your grandfather, Sia. Depriving oneself of three days of rest will wreck anyone’s sanity.”

[I can take it. Dragons can easily endure over a week without shutting their eyes.]

Sia met my gaze with a reassuring grin, serving as a reminder that she belonged to the draconic race rather than humanity.

“Even granting that, it isn’t healthy. Shasha, heed your elder’s advice and go rest.”

[Hmph. I am fully grown.]

Regardless of her maturity claims, to Rokan she remained his precious little granddaughter whom he cherished above all else. Rokan gently nudged her once more until Sia finally mumbled a soft complaint under her breath, switching off the monitor only after making me promise to call if I needed company.

Following her departure, I regained a sliver of vitality by draining a restorative draught Rokan brought over.

Once I finished the meal he provided, Rokan raised the topic I knew was coming.

“I hesitated to interrogate an injured man the moment he woke, but we can no longer delay it. What truly transpired within that Gate?”

“It’s… quite an ordeal.”

I laid out the entire sequence of events without omitting a detail, starting with my clashes against the Sword Wraiths throughout the Garden of Dragon Swords and concluding with the circumstances that brought about Dragon Tongue.

Initially, Rokan listened with intrigue to the tale of the ruler who wielded a Dragon Bone Sword.

Yet his demeanor hardened the moment I described encountering Minos and commanding Dragon Tongue.

“From any reasonable standpoint, that ought to be impossible.”

“Pardon?”

“I often praise your exceptional gifts, yet even raw talent has boundaries. Regardless of your aptitude, pulling that off should have been unfeasible.”

Rokan shook his head, thoroughly unconvinced by the plausibility.

Yet hadn’t he seen the Gate’s altered victory conditions with his own eyes?

“…I’m baffled myself. I’ve only recounted precisely what occurred.”

“Hmm. You took my words the wrong way. I am not doubting your integrity. Rather, from a theoretical viewpoint, barring an unforeseen catalyst, that feat was impossible. Did your recording device catch the event?”

Spurred by Rokan’s query, I retrieved the recorder to check whether the activation of Dragon Tongue had been saved.

Had it been documented, the playback would serve as clear evidence.

Regrettably, the footage went entirely blank from the point I encountered Minos through the manifestation of Dragon Tongue.

Had the mechanism shut down amidst the chaos?

“…Would you care to inspect the rest of the clip?”

Even devoid of the Dragon Tongue incident, perhaps an alternate sequence held a vital clue.

Rokan accepted the device, reviewing the contents by my side.

“This was unmistakably abnormal for a standard Gate.”

Halting the reel at a specific frame, he scowled deeply.

“The master of that crypt clearly manipulated the underlying structure.”

‘Manipulated it?’

Noticing my bewildered stare, Rokan breathed a weary sigh before elaborating.

“Pinpointing the exact nature of his tampering would require surveying the site in person. You are worn out, so we shall conclude our discussion here.”

Rokan drew the covers over my chest himself, offering a parting restriction.

“You must refrain from seeing Shasha throughout the coming week. Remain here over the next few days and focus exclusively on recuperating.”

“Understood, thank you…”

I had anticipated recovering my stamina while spending sweet moments with Sia, making this decree sting with disappointment.

Sia would undoubtedly share that melancholy.

“Rokan.”

Recalling a vital matter that had slipped my mind amidst the frenzy, I called after him.

“I failed to mention this to Sia earlier… My blade ended up breaking.”

The event had weighed on my conscience ever since it fractured.

Uncertain of her reaction, I felt an agonizing blend of shame and regret.

That blade was the maiden gift she presented to me following our long-awaited reunion.

Furthermore, it served as the catalyst that unlocked martial aptitude I never knew resided within me.

Naturally, having shattered it sat heavily upon my soul.

“Are you referring to the blade Shasha gave you?”

“Yes. It pains me to ask, but would you be capable of mending it?”

I drew the fractured Dragon Bone Sword from my dimensional pocket.

Approaching Sia directly crossed my mind, but that would immediately reveal that her present had been ruined under my care.

“I shall look over the weapon. For the present, focus on your slumber.”

Weaving a final soothing charm over my form, Rokan departed the chamber.

*

Come dawn, Sia reached out to Rokan the instant her eyes opened, eager to assess Minjun’s health.

Tilting the lens, Rokan displayed Minjun snoozing deeply.

Under normal circumstances, Minjun would have been wide awake by this hour, but his weary vessel was still mending itself.

Taking advantage of the call, Rokan shared the conversation he had shared with Minjun while she slept.

Then he added a lingering detail.

[He seems to be wallowing in deep guilt because the weapon you gifted him ended up breaking.]

He disclosed that Minjun’s Dragon Bone Sword had indeed shattered.

From Minjun’s standpoint, the smoothest path was for Rokan to discreetly repair the blade without alerting Sia.

Yet Rokan understood his granddaughter’s nature far too well.

Had he concealed the matter only for her to uncover it later, she would feel utterly crushed knowing they had conspired to keep her in the dark.

Thus, despite feeling a pang of sympathy for Minjun, Rokan felt compelled to inform her.

Moreover, a practical roadblock stood in the way.

The fractured Dragon Bone Sword brought before him bore catastrophic structural trauma, complicating any restoration efforts.

Far from being common steel, it was a Dragon Bone Sword suffused with primal draconic vigor; even Rokan could not ensure that piecing it together would retain its former prowess.

“He should have simply spoken up. I would provide him with an endless supply of blades…”

[I feel the same, yet considering Minjun’s perspective, his hesitation is only natural.]

It would be far more bizarre for an individual to remain indifferent after damaging a priceless token from their beloved.

[Consequently, presenting Minjun with a brand-new sword appears to be the wisest course.]

“I must. Yet I don’t believe I possess another Dragon Bone Sword in my collection.”

Countless celebrated armaments filled Sia’s vaults, but that specific Dragon Bone Sword presented to Minjun had been her lone specimen.

Perhaps the solution was to forge an entirely fresh weapon dedicated to him. Right then, an astonishing concept ignited within her mind.

“How did that never cross my thoughts before?” Sia exclaimed in delight.

What if she reverted to her draconic form, extracted a bone directly from her skeleton, refined it, and personally forged a weapon for Minjun?

The marvelous revelation painted her expression with pure glee.

Through the lens of humanity, such a train of thought appeared completely unhinged.

Severing a piece of one’s own skeletal frame, shaping it into a blade, and offering it to a romantic partner sounded like a nightmare.

Yet that horror existed purely within mortal sensibilities.

To dragonkind, such an act barely registered as a disturbance.

Their cultural morals were fundamentally distinct, and physically extracting a rib posed minimal difficulty to their kind.

Dispel Polymorph, apply targeted spells to neatly dislodge a section of the ribcage, cast restoration magic, and the procedure was complete.

Utilizing proper numbing enchantments ensured the extraction remained essentially painless.

Placed alongside human discomfort, it barely equated to the sting of a tiny medicinal needle.

Sia would willingly endure an annoyance that trivial for Minjun’s sake any day.

If anything, she scolded herself for failing to conceive of carving a weapon from her own body earlier. Even so, a single apprehension lingered.

“Grandpa, will that truly be safe…?”

[What are you worried about?]

“It remains a bone saturated with my internal aura. Could that essence bring harm to Oppa…?”

Given that their opposing auras prevented them from embracing in person, a Dragon Bone Sword sourced directly from Sia’s flesh might inadvertently cause Minjun harm.

Thankfully, Rokan dispelled that fear.

[It would harbor merely an infinitesimal fragment of your essence, so no harm should come. In truth, that may yield positive results.]

“Positive results…?”

[Indeed. The weapon could serve an effect akin to an inoculation.]

By gradually exposing Minjun to a microscopic trace of Sia’s aura, his vessel might naturally adapt to her distinct power over time.

Rokan reasoned it might operate just like an immunization.

Because the circumstances were unprecedented even to his vast experience, he could not promise absolute success.

Nonetheless, he deemed the odds of a catastrophic reaction virtually nonexistent.

At most, Minjun might endure an occasional wave of mild lightheadedness.

A trifling inconvenience that Minjun could easily weather.

[Minor reactions of that sort might emerge, but the advantages vastly outshine the drawbacks. I believe you may proceed.]

“Understood!”

Now Sia had an even greater justification to fashion Minjun’s blade out of her very own bone.

“Thank you so much, Grandpa! Have a peaceful rest!”

[Rest well yourself, Shasha.]

Offering his farewell, Rokan turned toward his personal quarters.

Sia remained glued to the display, admiring Minjun’s quiet slumber while mapping out her crafting plans with pure joy.

‘A weapon formed of my very own bone… It will stand as an absolute singular treasure across the world.’

What offering could possibly rival such significance?

While certain dragons, driven by curiosity, attempted crafting a Dragon Bone Sword from their skeletal frame once in their long lives, Sia had never dabbled in the practice.

Now, fate had presented the ultimate reason to do so.

It felt nothing short of divine providence.

“Hehe.”

The image of her beloved carrying a living fragment of her presence wherever he stepped, rising in strength beside her essence, filled Sia with boundless joy.

“Just how should I forge it so Oppa falls completely in love with it?”

The thought of creating an unmatched masterpiece for Minjun left Sia beaming with uncontainable joy.

Meanwhile, Minjun slept on, utterly oblivious to the outrageous scheme she was concocting for his sake.