Dragon Tooth Knife

Yet before Red Dragon stood an undeniable fact:
Yellow Dragon knew the secret phrase.

That meant—someone told him.
On this ship, besides her—who else could’ve revealed it?

Only Black Dragon.

If Black Dragon had shared this sacred code—then he trusted Yellow Dragon completely.

Thus, Yellow Dragon’s earlier words? Highly credible.

After a long hesitation, Red Dragon handed the chest to Black.

“Since it’s the decision of all three leaders—I have no objections.”

“Thank you.”

Black nodded, carefully wrapped the chest, and turned to leave.

Red Dragon watched his retreating back—a lingering unease in her heart.

“Tonight… Yellow Dragon’s voice and posture felt… different.”

“But Yellow Dragon is a master of disguise. Maybe he used some technique to alter them?”

……

Black moved swiftly—the night had gone far smoother than expected!

With his intelligence advantage, the Dragonblood Council couldn’t dare suspect him.

Now that he had the Dragonfang Blade, their conspiracy was half-ruined.

Reaching the stairs after exiting the corridor, Black nearly collided with someone!

Looking up—the man wore the same attire.
Clearly, another member of the Dragonblood Council.

Instantly, Black understood.
This was the real Yellow Dragon—the one he’d impersonated.

He’d come thirty minutes early, stealing the blade ahead of schedule.
Now—the official handover time had arrived.

Meeting the real Yellow Dragon here? Not unexpected.

Yellow Dragon didn’t suspect him—assuming he was just another Council member.
At this hour, only their own would be here.

“You are?”

“Purple Dragon.”

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Sir, I have matters to attend to—excuse me.”

“Go ahead.”

Yellow Dragon replied without hesitation.

As Black left, Yellow Dragon continued forward.

Tonight was his turn to receive custody of the Dragonfang Blade.

But when Yellow Dragon reached the corridor’s bend and spoke the passphrase—

The guard answered: “Purple Dragon.”

Purple Dragon, confused—why did Yellow Dragon return so soon?

Before he could speak, Yellow Dragon grabbed his throat, enraged.

“Are you mocking me?! I just saw Purple Dragon at the staircase!”

“S-sir! I don’t know what’s happening! But I am Purple Dragon!”

“I even know tonight’s passphrase!”

When Purple Dragon accurately recited the passphrase, Yellow Dragon’s face turned grave!

His instincts screamed—disaster is near!

……

“Huff… huff…”

After fooling the real Yellow Dragon, Black raced out of the storage hold.

Only when he returned to the living quarters did he relax.

Finding an empty room, he pulled out the chest.

Opening it—a short blade lay inside.

About 30 cm long, covered in black patterns, radiating a deep, eerie darkness.

Not ordinary darkness—this was unnatural, chilling.

Black’s first thought? This thing feels like a cursed relic.
Like something worshipped in a heretical church.

“Hss…”

Staring at the blade too long made his head dizzy.
Strange visions flooded his mind.

Bodies. Blood. Dragons. Skeletons.
A battlefield.

And nameless horrors—eyes floating in the air.

But these eyes spoke—their voices like ancient god-whispers, echoing in his ears.

They were tempting him—urging him to do unspeakable things.

“Slap!”

Black slapped himself hard—breaking free from the illusion.

He quickly closed the chest—cutting off the blade’s sinister aura.

“Tch. No wonder it came from the Final Boss Demon Dragon—it can corrupt the mind!”

Black shivered. From the vision, he’d seen the giant black dragon.

Soaring through the heavens—breathing a titanic wave of black fire upon a small nation!

This flame—indescribably powerful, unimaginably vast.
To the people, it was an apocalyptic disaster.

The black fire rained down—engulfing the entire country—turning it into a living hell.

Forests became ash. Rivers evaporated. Mountains crumbled.

Humans touched by the fire—flesh dissolving, souls disintegrating.

When the soul vanished—flesh stopped dissolving.
A human became a walking corpse!

True undead—not mere zombies.
This wasn’t normal fire—it carried a curse.

It turned humans into horrific creatures—Black Corpses.

No souls. Only hunger. Biting anyone they saw.
Those bitten? Infected—turned into more Black Corpses.

Black’s final vision—countless such creatures wandering the earth.

This was the Demon Dragon’s absolute power.
One breath—wiped out a prosperous nation.

No wonder humanity feared dragons so much.

“Experiencing such horror firsthand… far scarier than any game cutscene.”

Black took a deep, cold breath—realizing he was drenched in sweat.

What he’d seen? Recorded in the game’s lore.

The destroyed nation? Muyuan Kingdom—a remote, peaceful land on Cassel Continent.
Small population. Livestock-based. Far from war.

Then—the Demon Dragon descended—erasing it.

Half its people—cursed by black fire, transformed into Black Corpses.
Their behavior? Nearly identical to zombies—likely inspired by game designers.

The Muyuan arc was a major side quest—mandatory for players.

“Good thing I’m not the protagonist. Facing those zombie-things directly? Too terrifying!”

For the first time, Black felt grateful he wasn’t the main character.

These Black Corpses—and the Demon Dragon—were for Jiaye, the fate-blessed protagonist.

His duty? Only ensure the prologue ends well—defeat Jörmungandr.

Now—with this blade—he finally had a trump card against emergencies.

An item that ignores level gaps—instant kill on enemies below 10% HP.
The Dragonfang Blade was truly a 6-star weapon.

Beyond that—against peers? Invincible.
Any wound from this blade? The poison seals your fate.