The World of Dragons!

Black inwardly cursed. Is this how you treat a surrendering prisoner?!
He’d originally wanted to avoid changing the plot—but now, he had no choice but to pull out that move.

He took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs:

“Elizabeth! I know where the Eighth Dragon King—Jörmungandr, the World Serpent—is hiding!”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Then—chaos erupted.

This was intelligence. Priceless intelligence. Intelligence worth more than gold, more than kingdoms.

Especially to the imperial family, the nobles, the Church, and the Round Table Knights.

Any human would recognize its value.

The moment Black spoke, he could feel it—the gazes on him turning scorching hot.

Even Empress Elizabeth, the most exalted ruler in the land, couldn’t hide her shock.
Her eyes locked onto him, sharp as daggers.

“What did you say?!”

Black knew he had her. Even an empress couldn’t ignore such a treasure.

“If you spare my life…”

He paused, glancing at Loyre.

“…and spare our captain’s life too…”

Then at Hans and his roommate Yulier.

“…and First Mate Hans and Yulier…”

His eyes flicked to the battered, broken pirates around him.

Sigh. Fine. Might as well save them all. Who could resist his damn soft heart?

So, like a teacher calling roll, Black listed every single pirate’s name.
The once-tense battlefield now felt absurd—like a farce.

Elizabeth’s slender fingers dug deep into her palm.
After he finished, she inhaled sharply and demanded:

“If you can guarantee this intelligence is true—I will pardon all of you.”

“Absolutely true, my most exalted, noble, unparalleled, one-and-only empress! I swear on my life—if even a word is false, throw me straight to the sea dragons!”

Black spoke with solemn sincerity—hand over heart.

His intel wasn’t just real.
It would shatter the prologue’s storyline.

But so what? Better to break the plot than break his neck.

Still, he felt a pang of pity for Jiaye.
From her stiff, pale face, he could tell—she was falling apart.

She was probably thinking: Did I even read the right novel?!

“Dragoncleaver Guard—listen! Take them all to the Wilton and await further orders!”

“Yes!”

Only after watching the White Pearl crew being locked away on the Wilton did Black finally exhale in relief.

Though Loyre’s final glance at him was… complicated.

Was it disgust for his surrender?
Rage over his sabotage of her attack?
Or shock that he knew Jörmungandr’s location?

Black shook his head.
Loyre was a mystery, even in the game. He couldn’t read her.

And just as clearly—she couldn’t read him.

But none of that mattered now.
The real challenge? Surviving the imperial court.

If they thought his intel was fake—he’d lose his head.

“Move! To the Hodir—to meet the Empress!”

Two Dragoncleaver Guards flanked Black as they marched toward the Hodir.

Outwardly calm.
Inwardly—his mind was racing, frantically recalling the game’s lore and prologue events.

Dragonblood wasn’t just popular—it was revolutionary.

Its success came from innovation in gameplay, art style, and mechanics.
But what truly set it apart?
Its worldbuilding.

The Dragonblood universe wasn’t necessarily perfect—but it was unique.

As he walked, Black glanced down at the sea—its black, fathomless depths.
Something horrific could burst from it at any moment, crushing even the mightiest ship.

On Earth, he’d laugh at such thoughts.
Even a blue whale couldn’t threaten a massive vessel.

But here?

In this game world—that nightmare was real.

Dragonblood.
Just like its name—this was a world of dragons.

And also—a world of humans.

More precisely—a world where humans and dragons fought for dominance.

According to ancient legend, the Creator God had birthed two races: humans and dragons.

Humans ruled by wisdom.
Dragons ruled by might.
Together, they shaped the world.

But dragons were greedy.
They betrayed humanity, slaughtering them in a bid to rule alone.

With power rivaling natural disasters, the dragons conquered the world.

Yet they were arrogant—and foolish.

Instead of exterminating humanity, they sought to enslave them—turning humans into livestock, servants bound to serve dragons for eternity.

That era was humanity’s most shameful, most humiliating.
Even now, few records remained—only fragments in ancient texts.

But the dragons’ arrogance became their downfall.

Lost in lust for power, wealth, flesh, and blood, they forgot one truth:
Humans were a clever species.

Even as slaves, they grew.

At the end of that age, twelve great sages emerged.

They gave the weaponless humans three primal forces: Magic, Spirit, and Divine Edict.

From these, twelve classes were born: Warrior, Knight, Swordsman, Archer, Assassin, Pirate, Sorcerer, Priest, Hexer, Healer, Summoner, and Sage.

Each sage mastered one class—leading humanity to victory.

They sealed the Twelve Dragon Kings, the leaders of the dragon race.

But even after millennia, the dragons stirred.

They could not be wiped out.
Their regeneration was terrifying.
Even the Twelve Dragon Kings were only sealed—not dead.

And beyond the kings, countless elite dragons still lived—powerful, dangerous.

Thus, humanity still feared them.

The Sages classified dragons into 12 major types, subdivided into 93 species.

Today, dragons had twelve primary lairs—far from human cities, hidden in deadly environments:

Volcanoes.
Abysses.
Remote seas.
Swamps.
Mountains…

And right now—they were dangerously close to one.

Here, one of the sealed Dragon Kings was awakening.

The Sea Dragon King—Jörmungandr, the World Serpent.

And that was exactly why Empress Elizabeth and the royal fleet were so desperate.

They hadn’t come by chance.
They were hunting Jörmungandr.

They meant to erase him—before he broke free of his seal and regained full power.