Neo reached the river at last. The water that should have been clear ran a deep, sickly purple. The color stained the banks and clung to the rocks like spilled ink. He followed the path along the edge, boots sinking into soft mud, eyes fixed on the current. The purple grew thicker the farther he went.
At the end of the path the river widened into a broad pool. In the middle of it the poison dragon slept. Its long body lay half-submerged, scales dull and mottled. Water currents rose from the surface and circled the beast in tight, glowing rings. The rings moved without stopping, wrapping the dragon like living armor.
Neo crouched low behind a thick bush and stared. The dragon’s chest rose and fell in slow, heavy breaths. It was asleep. He needed a plan that would work the first time. The last fight against the leviathan had almost killed him. He could not afford another close call.
A single massive teleportation spell could throw the dragon into a volcano. The heat would finish it. But the corpse would stay there, and without the body he would have no proof for the quest. He needed the remains.
An idea formed. He could build two teleportation spells that worked together. The first would send the dragon into the heart of a volcano. The second would wait five minutes, then pull the body back to this exact spot. Five minutes of pure fire should be enough to kill anything.
Neo slapped both cheeks once, hard. "All right. Let’s do it."
He stayed low in the bush and began shaping the spells. Mana gathered in his hands, thin threads of light twisting into complex patterns. He locked the coordinates with care. One mistake and the corpse could end up anywhere—or nowhere. He linked the two spells so they would fire in perfect order: out, burn, return. When the last thread settled into place he felt the whole construct lock solid.
He triggered it.
The dragon vanished in a flash of white light. For a few heartbeats the river pool was empty except for the circling currents that slowly faded. Then the air tore open again and the dragon’s body slammed back onto the water. Steam rose from the blackened scales. The heat hit Neo’s face even from where he hid. He waited, listening. No breathing. No movement. The dragon was dead.
He rose and walked forward slowly. His eyes swept the banks and the trees. No demons. No movement. He shifted into the focused state he called torch-man mode—senses sharp, every muscle ready. Step by step he closed the distance until his boots touched the water’s edge.
He reached out and laid one hand on the dragon’s side.
Light exploded under his palm. The burnt scales flared with sudden, fierce brightness. Air rushed into the dragon’s lungs. The chest rose once, twice. The beast was coming back.
Neo’s mind raced. Kill it again? The body was already filling with thick pyro mana, an artificial soul knitting itself together out of pure fire energy. If he waited too long the dragon would wake fully. If the mana kept pouring in, the corpse might simply explode.
His face hardened. He had one chance.
Both hands slammed onto the scales. He sucked in a deep breath and poured mana threads outward. Thin lines of power shot from his palms and sank into the dragon’s body, racing straight for the core. He kept feeding them until two hundred threads locked onto the glowing heart of the beast.
Then he pulled.
Pyro mana flooded into him in a scorching rush. The dragon’s energy level dropped fast—too fast. For a second he thought his senses had lied. His eyes widened as he watched the threads more carefully. They were not simply draining. They stripped the raw pyro mana, refined it, and packed the higher-quality energy into a smaller space. Quantity fell while purity climbed.
He kept draining. The light under the scales faded. The artificial soul starved. When the last thread snapped free, the dragon’s body was nothing but a dull grey husk, empty of every spark of fire.
Neo stored the corpse in his inventory without ceremony. The heat still clung to his skin as he turned and started the long walk back to town.
The guild hall was quiet when he arrived. No receptionist stood behind the counter. The same human who had given him the quest sat alone at a side table. Neo walked straight to him and held out the completed quest slip.
The man’s eyes went wide. "You really came back because you just killed it?"
Neo nodded once.
The human leaned back, staring. "I take it back. With strength like that you’d be head of the cleaners in the capital. Now give me the dragon horn."
Neo reached into his inventory, pulled out one thick black horn, and placed it on the table. The human picked it up, turned it over, and examined every ridge. "This is really the horn. You really killed it."
He stood, disappeared into the back room, and returned carrying a heavy cloth bag. He dropped it in front of Neo. "Five million mana stones. I already took two million for making both IDs. Why are you still standing here?"
Neo opened the bag, counted out one million stones, and pushed them across the table. "Use this to spread the word that I killed the poison dragon. Especially make sure the noble Zod hears it."
The human grinned and scooped up the stones. "You really know how things work around here."
Neo left the guild without another word. He walked the streets until he found a cheap inn with a faded sign. Inside, the common room smelled of old wood and cheap ale. The owner was a beautiful devil woman with smooth black skin and sharp, interested eyes.
"How much for one room?" Neo asked.
"Five thousand for the night," she said.
Neo looked at her steadily. "How about fifty thousand, and I’ll be waiting for you outside."
The woman grinned, slow and knowing. "I’ll come to your room—room three—after I finish my job."
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