The Foreigner on the Periphery

Jenkinson realized it.

Everything around him was both alien and strangely familiar.

'This feeling isn't new. It's from a very long time ago... so long ago my memories are hazy.'

He had experienced this before.

The seeping warmth. The thick liquid enveloping his body. He could see nothing, but a voice drifted through a solid wall, its resonance carrying a profound sense of security.

'Right, this is...'

Jenkinson recalled a memory from roughly two thousand years ago.

'I'm inside an egg, right before hatching!'

It was hard to believe, but he could draw no other conclusion.

Horrified, he wanted to scream and thrash about. Yet, regardless of his psychological turmoil, his body's movements remained slow and relaxed. Jenkinson realized once again that he was merely an observer. The body trapping his Ancient Dragon mind responded playfully to the outside voice. Contrary to his inner panic, its movements were entirely carefree.

The Ancient Dragon agonized.

'Could I have been reincarnated?!'

Did the unidentifiable Magic layered within the Dragon Heart kill him?

He didn't know why, but had he been reincarnated with his memories intact? Like in a movie or a novel?

He quickly dismissed the thought. Such a thing was impossible. The Ancient Dragon decided to think more realistically. The hypothesis that his soul had been forcibly separated from his body and transplanted into the wrong dragon seemed far more plausible.

'A state where two souls share one body?'

His will did not reflect in the body's movements at all. The one currently controlling this flesh was someone else, not Jenkinson.

Did the embryo's soul have control?

If so, his five senses were far too vivid. Even the host's thoughts and emotions transmitted clearly. The child was curious about the voices of the man and woman it presumed were its parents, wondering what they looked like. Meanwhile, it remained completely oblivious to the presence of the observer named Jenkinson.

Is this what possession was usually like? It felt strange.

'Then who exactly is the owner of this body?'

Jenkinson mentally scoured the Dragon Race. Specifically, those currently brooding over an egg.

The first one to come to mind was...

'Anais, that Poison Dragon!'

She was carrying the Dragon Lord's child. An unhatched embryo. The moment he realized that, his mind felt as if it were boiling and melting away.

'Could I have possessed the Dragon Lord's child?!'

Minjun's conspiracy theory surfaced in his mind: the wild speculation that the Dragon Lord had sired many descendants merely to craft a vessel he could transfer his soul into.

'But why am I the one possessing it instead of the Lord?!'

The more he thought about it, the less sense this hypothesis made. If this was the Lord's child, who were the two whispering outside the shell? The only ones who could approach the egg were the parents. Yet the female voice he heard right now was entirely different from Anais's. Furthermore, who was the man beside her? The dead Dragon Lord certainly couldn't be attempting prenatal communication.

The more he pondered, the deeper into the labyrinth he fell.

The voices of the man and woman finally gave Jenkinson a clue.

Time flowed by helplessly, and Jenkinson endured the passing days in despair. The longer this went on, the clearer the voices outside the shell became. The Ancient Dragon could finally understand them perfectly.

'This language...?'

It was definitely the unique language of the Dragon Race, but...

'Are there any dragons who still use these words and grammar today?'

It was an archaic dialect, rare even when Jenkinson was young.

A manner of speech used by those old enough to be his grandfather.

Moreover, the content of their endless whispering defied common sense.

"Never forget. We are special dragons. Just as we did, you too must protect our noble blood."

"It is your duty to preserve our pure bloodline. The number of those like us is gradually dwindling, but do not worry. You, too, will eventually find one."

"I look forward to the day you hatch. On the day you see the light of the world, capture us in your little eyes, and later, see what you yourself look like. Then, as time passes and you see the appearances of other dragons, you will finally understand."

"Yes, you will realize just how special we are."

Jenkinson could swear he didn't know a single dragon who spoke like that.

It was true that the majority of the Dragon Race attempted prenatal communication right after laying an egg. They educated the child on the greatness of the Dragon Race and how strong a being they would become once hatched.

However, the pride they instilled focused on the broad identity of being a dragon and the value of their race as a whole; they never mentioned concepts like being 'more special than other dragons.'

'How utterly anachronistic...'

As he muttered that to himself, Jenkinson's mind froze.

He repeated the phrase he had just thought of.

'Anachronistic.'

Wait, could it be?

A voice reached him, putting the final stamp on his suspicions.

"Remember your glorious name. Ager-Pishko-Kois-Halekia-Lyubrai..."

No one used such an antiquated naming convention these days. Yet it was a name Jenkinson knew. He could already anticipate the exact words the dragon outside the shell would pronounce next.

'...Azel-Azel-Sekhnat-Kois-Ager!'

It was the true name of the Dragon Lord.

'Ah, my god!'

Only now did he have his answer.

Jenkinson was viewing the Dragon Lord's long-lost memories. It was a virtual reality indistinguishable from the real world, likely reconstructed after the Magic had scanned the very bottom of his subconscious.

This went far beyond simply watching. He was experiencing everything exactly as it had happened—the Lord's thoughts, the emotions harbored in his heart, and everything he had perceived through his five senses.

He recalled the Lord's dying words.

'You intended to pass your heart on to the next Lord. Was this what you wanted to show your successor?'

His own memories.

Was his intention to let the successor become his past self and feel everything exactly as he had, without any need for added words or explanations?

'But!'

The moment he realized this fact, Jenkinson felt a terror that threatened to crush his very soul.

He understood. It was likely done with good intentions. There had to be a message the Lord wanted to convey.

But...

'Why did it have to start from this exact point in time?!'

How much time had passed since the memory playback began? It felt like at least a few dozen days had gone by. He could roughly guess that much from the voices outside the shell.

And in all that time, no memories had been omitted; no time was skipped. The Ancient Dragon's consciousness maintained perfect continuity. Throughout the entire ordeal he had endured so far, Jenkinson had found zero crucial information aside from the embryo's identity. It was an unnecessary experience. His mind had already wasted an agonizingly long period of time.

Then what came next? Jenkinson felt his vision go dark. Perhaps a 'mere' few dozen days wasn't even the issue. Spending that time as a helpless observer—unable to move a single finger while only his thoughts and emotions remained alive—was nothing.

The truly serious problem was the days ahead.

'Don't tell me... Ah, this isn't right. This can't be happening. Lord!'

He screamed in his mind. If the Lord had a message to pass on, he only needed to extract the important events from his life—just the highlights.

Why did it have to play in real time like this?!

How long would this go on?!

Jenkinson belatedly remembered.

'Come to think of it, the Magic in the Dragon Heart was still incomplete.'

What if this was the side effect of 'observing' the Dragon Heart before the intended time? What if it had simply played the raw data, completely unedited, exactly as it was?

What if, contrary to the Lord's intentions, he was being forced to experience everything from the very first moment of life with all the sensations of reality?

'Dear god, this can't happen. This is wrong!'

Jenkinson faced his grim premonition.

And searching his memory, he muttered:

'How old was the Dragon Lord... when he died?!'

   *

The rebellion of the Ellahu-Praga Church was suppressed before the night was over.

The bishops following Felix restored the electricity and communications. The detained priests heard of the immense miracles that had occurred during that short span of time. Upon their release, they were horrified by the sight before the Cathedral of Resurrection.

"Good heavens, what is all this...!"

Displayed there were the sinners who had received divine punishment. Their sins had been forgiven, but the divine punishment already executed was not undone.

Lined up around the cathedral were priests who had become pillars of salt, frozen in the exact poses they had struck while twisting and thrashing in agony. Baked solid by the intense flames, they remained in those shapes even after the fire was extinguished.

The acting Pope arrived at the scene and looked at the cathedral entrance. The doors were open. It was said that the avatar had gone inside alone. Because he had not ordered anyone to accompany him, no one dared follow.

Therefore, instead of heading inside, the acting Pope looked for someone. It was not difficult to find the Grand Patriarch, whose body was completely covered in bloodstains. As he approached, the man raised his head.

"Bishop Felix!"

The apostate, whom he had reunited with in such a short amount of time, seemed like a completely different person from when he had surrounded the acting Pope. The only thing that remained unchanged was the intense look in his eyes, entirely devoid of doubt in his faith.

'No.'

The acting Pope quickly revised his judgment.

'If anything, his faith seems to have grown even stronger!'

Felix spoke in a calm tone.

"You've arrived."

"...I heard what happened."

"I will not apologize to you for today's incident, for I have already repented. It is meaningless to discuss a sin with you here that God has already forgiven."

The acting Pope had no intention of doing so anyway. He simply marveled. The way God's will was exercised was so profound; he could only reflect on how immeasurable it was by the shallow calculations of mortals. There was no need for the acting Pope to forgive someone whom God had already forgiven.

Felix was saved.

"However."

The acting Pope saw blood continuously dripping from Felix's neck.

"Why haven't you healed yourself?"

The wound from the Baptism directly bestowed by God was deep. However, he knew that someone of Felix's caliber could easily heal it. Why had he left it alone?

The repentant apostate answered.

"I have lost my Divine Power."

It was a statement he could not comprehend. The acting Pope's eyes widened.

"But wasn't your sin forgiven?"

"Being forgiven of sin does not change the past. Just as the priests who became salt and were consumed by fire cannot live again, the same is true for me. He forgave my sin, but He did not exempt me from the punishment. God's scales are absolute."

Felix's words left the acting Pope confused, but he could not focus deeply on the thought.

---!

An intense light had erupted from the Cathedral of Resurrection.

"Oh!"

"It has begun!"

"The avatar is reclaiming the Divine Blood we gathered!"

One by one, the deeply moved bishops dropped to their knees and began praying toward the cathedral.

Now, the only ones left standing in the vicinity were the outsiders.

"Princess. Can you feel it too, Princess?"

The dragon asked with anxious eyes.

"Yeah. I'm not the only one feeling it, right?"

"Yes. That light... it's calling someone."

It was a change that started barely ten minutes after Minjun had gone inside. The two of them had already observed from afar as Minjun absorbed the Talent. But this was different.

Fwoosh!

The Cathedral of Resurrection had already lost its original appearance. The overwhelming pillar of light erupting from within had completely swallowed the building. It soared high into the sky, piercing the clouds and reaching far into the distance.

Watching it, Del was reminded of a certain antiquated concept.

"That's a lighthouse."

Not just Del, but everyone around the cathedral could instinctively tell.

That light was calling out. Not to the mortals present here, but to an entity residing much farther away. Or perhaps, 'entities.'

She muttered.

"Is he calling the rest of the primordial race?"

But they had not even awakened yet.

Furthermore, if they could be awakened so easily right here and now, there would have been no need to leave contingencies behind in other dimensions.

At that moment.

"Huh?"

The dragon narrowed his eyes. He could decipher the resonance that even Endelion had not properly grasped. It was because the wave emitted by the lighthouse was closer to the communication method of ghosts—a spiritual wave.

Just as everyone perceived, Minjun was summoning someone from far away.

Ha Eunseong even went a step further: he heard exactly how Minjun addressed the other party.

"Gasp?!"

That very title was the problem.

It was a concept Ha Eunseong could never have imagined. Minjun, of all people?

The ghost asked in a confused voice.

"Um, Princess."

"Yeah?"

He hesitated several times before speaking. He couldn't find the right phrasing, even trying to beat around the bush.

"Does the Agent, by any chance, have a hidden 'son'?"

Ha Eunseong instantly regretted the words that left his mouth.

Bang!

Bang! Ba-bang!

Thick tentacles had begun erupting in clusters from Del's back as her face froze in an emotionless mask.

Seeing this, the priests cried out to God for an entirely different reason than before, and some of those cries overlapped in meaning with Del's next words.

With a face completely devoid of readable emotion, the Princess asked the dragon:

"Just now... dear God, what did you say?"

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