Accompanying the physical mutations was a massive surge of negative emotions. Amidst this psychic onslaught, Lancer finally understood the origin of "Fatalis," the Evil Dragon.
If normal monsters are classified as biological organisms, and Elder Dragons are legendary creatures—powerful, rare, and ecologically mysterious—then Fatalis cannot even be classified as a living thing.
It doesn't need to eat, it doesn't need to rest; its very existence seems to manifest solely for the purpose of destruction. And in fact, that is exactly what it is.
The negative emotions crashing against his mind weren't the echoes of the slaughtered residents of the city as he had guessed, but rather the collective malice of countless "monsters" that had been slain throughout history.
Their unwillingness to die, manipulated by an unknown force, caused them to merge, eventually triggering this "War of Destiny."
Humans and Wyverians kill monsters, and the monsters, upon death, continuously fuse until an evil dragon born for ruin emerges...
It seemed strange, but it was a cycle. Even the "Sapphire Star" he had killed previously seemed to operate under a similar mechanism.
It existed to absorb the energy of deceased Elder Dragons, and upon its own death, that energy was fed back into the land. Whether it was common insects or powerful beasts, all were strengthened by its passing.
To most, this "unknown force" might seem esoteric and mysterious, but to Lancer, it felt remarkably "normal." Or rather, he had seen it before. Yes—the "Law of the Cycle."
According to the information she had shared, his appearance in that world was due to her "invitation." Looking back, were the previous worlds he visited the same?
Every world he went to had a point of sharp conflict, and he was the weight added to the scale to break the equilibrium.
Of course, beyond this direct evidence, he had other supporting clues, such as————
"System, let's make a deal. Can we swap that 'World Recognition Title'? It's not like a video game; thinking about having 'Stallion' hovering over my head makes my feelings... complicated."
Even now, with his body being corroded by dragon blood and his mind hammered by malice, Lancer still had the spirit to joke with the System. This was naturally because he had a way to break the deadlock.
First was the mental assault. It looked terrifying—accumulated malice from slaughtered monsters over untold years—but in reality, such a blunt psychic strike could only daze him or momentarily disconnect him from his body (like the near-OTK he suffered earlier). It wasn't enough to shatter Lancer's iron-forged will.
Having endured so much, his mind was like tempered steel. Moreover, he had his "Goal": he looked forward to the day he could live a normal life with his "family."
Indeed, Lancer pursued the seemingly ephemeral peak of the spear, but he never forgot his original heart.
He brandished his spear to survive, to ensure those he protected survived, and ultimately, to let even more people live.
With a goal like that, how could he allow himself to fail halfway?
As for the physical corrosion?
Simple. With the subjugation of "Fatalis," his side quest was completed, and the rewards were delivered into his hands.
First was the title.
Title: Dragon Slayer
Effects: > 1. Deterrence: Dragon-type enemies weaker than the holder have their stats reduced by at least 15%.
Dragon-Slaying Arts: Using "Elder Dragon Energy" against Dragon-type enemies deals 50% extra damage and grants damage reduction. Attacks below a certain threshold are negated (specific values depend on the amount of Elder Dragon Energy output).
The effects were simple but incredibly broken. Effect ① was a flat debuff to any dragon weaker than him, scaling with the power gap. Effect ② further enhanced the "Elder Dragon Energy" he had acquired, turning it into a specialized anti-dragon tool.
However, the title didn't help his current situation much, as his body's state was an "evolution," not "damage," and thus couldn't be negated. What could truly reverse his plight was that "Cursed Armor."
The helmet was a hideous dragon head, featuring the black dragon's iconic four horns on the brow. The body lacked ornate engravings—much like Lancer himself, it avoided the superfluous—but the sharp, thorn-like spikes at the elbows, wrists, and fingertips screamed lethality.
Between the gaps of the dragon-scale plating, a faint black light flickered, exuding pure evil.
And indeed, it was. This armor, crafted from the materials of Fatalis, carried its curse. To wear it was to hear the screams of a million dying monsters. Malice would constantly assault the wearer's mind and drain their stamina and energy. However, for Lancer, these negative effects were exactly what he needed to absorb the excess dragon blood.
"AAAAHHHHH!!"
As the dragon scales on his skin receded, Lancer's blood-red eyes cleared for a moment. He forced himself to stand, flinging his arms wide. The armor automatically equipped itself onto his body. The "Sapphire Star" had indeed been a great help in managing his equipment; he no longer needed to summon a weapon box and put things on piece by piece.
As the eye slits of the helmet glowed red, the dragon blood on the ground was absorbed at an increasing rate. The spikes on the armor grew longer and sharper, making him look more monstrous by the second. The black light in the gaps deepened until it completely enveloped the armor, making the wearer look like a true creature of darkness.
Olga Marie was momentarily panicked by the sight of Lancer suddenly donning this sinister armor, as the evil aura leaking from it was undeniable. But when she noticed that despite the rising darkness, Lancer's reactions were becoming more human and composed, she calmed down.
Having spent time with Lancer—and witnessed a story where a certain mastermind manipulated human history through the innocence of young girls, only for a "Demon King" to save the world—she had learned to ignore the "attribute" of power. Whether a power was holy or evil didn't matter; what mattered was the user.
And without a doubt, she chose to believe in Lancer.