Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 32: Survive, But At What Cost?

A single goblin lay on the ground, trembling amidst the sea of its butchered kin.

The air was thick with the scent of blood and death. Its tiny hands clawed weakly at the dirt, its beady eyes wet with terror as it babbled desperately, pleading for mercy.

Bel stood over it, his foot pressing against its grotesque face, pinning it to the cold stone. The goblin squirmed, its frail limbs flailing, its voice rising into desperate shrieks.

There were no more goblins running. No more distractions, so Bel was finally back to his senses.

His breath came slow and steady, his golden eyes empty as he stared down at the creature.

The rage that had burned so hot just moments ago had vanished, leaving only an eerie stillness within him. He had felt so much, too much, in such a short span of time that now... he felt nothing at all.

The goblin beneath his boot whimpered, its pleas growing more frantic. He could understand it, not through words, but through sheer desperation. It wasn't just a mindless beast. It wasn't like the wild monsters he had hunted before.

It was intelligent. It was begging.

And yet, it had done that to the others.

Bel's fingers twitched. His voice came low, quiet, almost thoughtful.

"Why? Why did you do this? You're not just animals acting on instinct. You chose this." His eyes darkened, staring down at the creature squirming beneath his foot. "You take, you destroy, you break. Just like her."

Just like her. Just like the woman who had started everything. The woman who treated torture and death like a toy for her own amusement. She was no different than these creatures.

Were all demons like this?

If so... then there was only one solution.

His foot pressed down harder. The goblin let out a strangled cry, its bony fingers scrabbling uselessly at his ankle.

Crack.

Its skull gave way, crushed beneath his weight. Its body twitched once, then went still.

[Level Up!]

Bel exhaled, stepping back. His boots squelched in the blood-soaked dirt. He turned his gaze around the cavern, truly taking in the carnage for the first time.

Corpses. Torn limbs. Entrails smeared across the walls. The goblins had been slaughtered so thoroughly that the cavern floor was more purple than stone.

He lifted a hand, flexing his fingers. Blood dripped from his skin in thick, slow drops.

He was drenched from head to toe.

He let out a breath, steadying himself.

This... this is supposed to be a beginner's mission? What kind of joke is this?

Then, another system notification blinked into his vision.

[New Title Acquired!]

Title: Wyrm Berserker - A creature that abandons restraint in the throes of battle, becoming an unrelenting force of destruction. Strength surges, instincts sharpen.

[New Traits Unlocked!]

- Wyrm's Frenzy: When engaged in battle, entering a heightened bloodlust state temporarily increases all physical stats.

- Goblinbane: Your experience with exterminating goblins has permanently increased your effectiveness against them. All attacks against goblins deal 20% more damage.

Bel blinked.

A title? He had never gotten this before. And two new traits... at once?

He opened his status screen, scanning it carefully. His stats had jumped significantly, but the real prize was staring at him in bold letters.

[Draconic Evolution System]

Name: Belzerion

Title: Wyrm Berserker

Race: Dragon

Class: Greater Wyrmling

Level: 29

EXP: 134/6000

Core Stats:

HP: 476/482

MP: 152/152

Strength: 79

Toughness: 88

Intelligence: 64

Speed: 71

Agility: 73

Stamina: 83

Pressure: 11

Unassigned Stat Points: 40

Draconic Core: 12%

Unlocked Traits:

Wyrm's Resilience: Enhanced endurance and recovery.

Wyrm's Perception: Heightened awareness of surroundings.

Wyrm's Frenzy: Bloodlust state increases physical stats but strains mental stability.

Goblinbane: 20% increased damage against goblins.

Bel's eyes flickered as he processed it all. A slow exhale left his lips.

Forty stat points. A title that amplified his power. A bloodlust state that made him even stronger.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the lingering energy still thrumming through his veins.

This had been the right choice.

His fingers curled, glinting under the cavern light. He had tested something today. And he had found his answer. Violence was the purest path to strength.

He scanned his status screen. Forty unassigned stat points, candy to the eye.

He had already decided that strength would be his focus this time, and now, with so many points at his disposal, he could push it further than ever before.

He allocated 21 points into strength, bringing it to a solid 100, a perfect number. He was curious to see how it would feel.

With his defense already high, he shifted his focus to his movement. Speed and agility, he had felt the need for more control, more precision, more explosiveness. He split the remaining points, 10 into speed, 9 into agility.

-------------------------------------

HP: 476/482

MP: 152/152

Strength: 100

Toughness: 88

Intelligence: 64

Speed: 81

Agility: 82

Stamina: 83

Pressure: 11

Unassigned Stat Points: 0

-------------------------------------

The moment he confirmed the changes, something shifted inside him.

A wave of heat pulsed from his body, rippling through his limbs. His muscles tensed, his skin prickling as if it had been struck by lightning. A sharp inhale, his body felt as if it was filling with air, lighter than ever before.

He lifted his arms, staring at the veins bulging beneath the layers of purple. His hands clenched, the raw power surging through them. He flexed his fingers. Faster, stronger, sharper.

Whoa...

His eyes twitched as his senses sharpened, his body almost vibrating with contained energy. He felt... limitless.

Then...

A sharp noise cut through the cavern.

"Ilya, stop! Please, stop!"

Bel turned, his heightened senses catching every detail before his eyes even focused. Lena's voice was hoarse, desperate, trembling.

Ilya was still crouched, hunched over the remains of the goblin she had been beating. The rock in her hands was slick with purple, the ground beneath her covered in a pulped, indistinguishable mess of flesh, bone, and blood.

Her hand was bruised, her wounds reopening, crimson mixing with the goblin's foul essence. But she didn't stop. The strikes kept coming, her breaths ragged and uneven, grunts of raw fury escaping her lips with every crushing impact.

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Lena took a hesitant step closer.

"Ilya, it's over! You're safe now! Please!"

The words barely registered. Ilya's arms trembled, the rock slipping from her grip as she sucked in a sharp breath. Then, as Lena reached out...

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Ilya whirled, her eyes wide, wild, burning with tears and rage. Her chest heaved, her body shaking uncontrollably. The cavern's dim light cast deep shadows across her elven features, making her look feral, unhinged.

Lena froze, hands halfway raised in surrender.

"Ilya, I..."

The archer lunged.

Lena gasped as fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight. She stumbled back, choking, eyes wide as Ilya forced her down. Lena's fingers clawed at Ilya's wrists, struggling, but the elf was relentless, her strength fueled by something deeper than hatred, betrayal.

"Die! Die! Die!" Ilya's voice cracked, hoarse from screams, from sobs, from pain.

Lena's body spasmed, her nails digging weakly into Ilya's arms.

She couldn't breathe, she could fight, she could resist, but she didn't.

Because in her mind, Ilya was right. She didn't help her; she didn't even try. Maybe things would have been different if she had helped her team. Renn would be alive, Taron would cover her, Ilya would be the serious adult of the group...

But it all went down, and she didn't even try to do something.

The world blurred. Her chest burned. A single thought passed through her mind as her consciousness wavered.

This is fair...

Then, a hand landed on Ilya's shoulder, and the instant it touched her, she snapped.

She let out a guttural, inhuman scream, twisting violently, her entire body thrashing as she lashed out with blind desperation. Her arms flailed, her nails raking against tough flesh, her breath ragged with sheer panic.

Bel barely managed to step back in time before her nails could caress his face.

Ilya's breath came in ragged gasps, her shoulders trembling. She stared at Bel like he was a demon, her body rigid, her wide eyes burning with raw emotion.

"Don't... don't touch me," she whispered, her voice hoarse and unsteady.

Her arms wrapped around herself, fingers digging into her skin, scratching frantically, tearing at her flesh as if trying to peel something away.

Bel didn't move, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"I won't," he said simply. "No one will."

Ilya flinched, curling in on herself, her nails dragging across her arms until fresh cuts opened, red mixing with the dried purple stains of goblin blood. Her whole body was trembling, her mind lost in a whirlwind of horror that none of them could pull her from.

Bel sighed and looked away. She wouldn't be cooperative in this state.

His gaze shifted to Lena, still kneeling on the ground, one hand pressed weakly against her bruised throat.

"Who are you?" Bel asked, his tone quieter than before. "And why were you here?"

Lena looked up at him with empty, lifeless eyes, her lips slightly parted as if forming words was an effort. Then, slowly, she turned her head toward the bodies.

"We... we took a quest," she murmured, her voice dull, exhausted. "An extermination request... goblins. It was supposed to be an easy job."

Bel listened, his expression impassive.

"The guild's report said they were weak. Just a small group, nothing dangerous. A beginner's task. Goblins are supposed to be weaker than humans. We thought..." Her breath hitched. "We thought it would be simple."

Her hands clenched into weak fists, her fingers shaking as she tried to suppress the rising wave of emotions.

"Renn was so excited... Taron said we had to stick to the plan... and Ilya, she..." Her voice broke. "Ilya told us not to be stupid."

She let out a choked breath, pressing her palm harder against her throat as if trying to finish Ilya's work. The grief in her voice was thick, crushing, like the last sparks of her strength were flickering out.

Bel exhaled softly, his gaze turning toward the cavern walls, toward the farthest point where the darkness stretched deeper. Something didn't add up.

"No one told me this was such a serious problem for the village," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "If the quest was given out as a low-risk extermination, then either someone at the guild underestimated the situation... or something changed."

Lena looked up, her expression barely registering his words.

"What...?"

Bel's golden eyes glowed faintly as he turned his head toward the deeper part of the cave. With his senses, he didn't need suppositions, he could feel the answers beyond the shadows.

"There's one more thing over there."