Alice in the Land of Steam

The skeletal dragon felt a shocking force emanating from its wings. The immense impact propelled its body backward, seemingly threatening to pierce its skeleton and crush its pride. It recognized a familiar scent in this direct and undisguised attack, and new fragments of memory seemed to surface in its muddled mind. Instinct warned it to evade the attack, but its ingrained stubbornness prevented it from retreating, as if doing so would mean losing something important.

Although it didn't know what it would lose, the skeleton was once the proudest soul on Platinum Mountain, a dragon that couldn't tolerate loss. So it chose to confront it head-on, halting its retreat with astonishing perseverance. Its claws seemed to have grown into invisible fulcrums, rooted to the earth, refusing to yield an inch. Suddenly, it raised its head, its empty eye sockets seemingly burning with invisible flames. A silent roar from the depths shook heaven and earth. The wings, now only skeletons, after enduring the immense impact, rebounded like a bowstring stretched to its limit, instantly deflecting the fallen silver moon and sending it shooting off in the opposite direction.

Countess Neville, expressionless, dodged the returning moon, unharmed by her own power. The silvery moonlight drifted ethereally towards the distant horizon, gradually disappearing into the darkness as if it had never existed.

She wasn't surprised that her first attack failed. Nidhogg was, after all, a calamity dragon who single-handedly suppressed the demons of Assyria in Paradise Land three thousand years ago, a dragon that rivaled legendary heroes. It was incomparable to the dragons that now cower behind the high walls of Dragon Language. Although it's human nature to favor the past over the present, you have to admit that no matter how arrogant, conceited, or inherently haughty the dragons of that time were, their power was never inferior to anyone's, and it even required the combined efforts of countless races across the continent to contend with them.

Long before the battle began, the Countess had already prepared herself for a fierce fight.

This battle has only just begun.

Neville was fully prepared to face Nidhogg's counterattack. The obsession engraved in the dragon's bones made her realize that the resurrected dragon skeleton before her would never easily give up its path.

Strangely, after deflecting the Countess's attack with its dragon wings, the skeletal dragon abruptly froze in place, staring at the vampire demigod, as insignificant as dust, blocking its path, and fell into an eerie silence. Its intense obsession still pounded wildly, urging it to destroy, to kill, to take revenge… but Nidhogg persisted in its stance, silently searching for a fragment of the past.

When he spread his dragon wings, what he saw before him was no longer the vampires as insignificant as dust, but a colossal dragon as magnificent as the world itself. It was staring at Nidhogg with calm eyes, its reflection mirroring the aloof and indifferent expression of the azure dragon. The surrounding scenery shifted; it was no longer a desolate wasteland devoid of any resonance, but a familiar city—magnificent, enormous, vast, and imposing…so spectacular it seemed otherworldly.

He and the dragon stood face to face in the arena at the highest point of the city, listening to the excited cheers from the audience all around them.

But none of them called out Nidhogg's name, and the intense fanaticism was not for him.

what.

Nidhogg belatedly realized... this was a duel that had come too late.

He once again stood at a turning point in his destiny.

……

On Mount Platinum, in the ancient city of Adras, a city belonging to the dragons.

Nidhogg finally stood in the arena at the very center of the city, facing his destined rival across the entire city. This was the highest point of Mount Platinum, where fierce winds howled constantly, perfect for a dragon to display its power.

He heard a deafening roar all around him, calling out the same name, but it had nothing to do with him.

The selection ceremony for this Dragon King should have been a foregone conclusion, as with Horace Varg, no matter how outstanding the other dragons were, they could hardly compete with him. Whether they were young dragons who had just come of age and were full of passion, or experienced dragons in their prime, in this selection ceremony where the outcome was already predetermined, they would undoubtedly only become the background for Horace Varg, highlighting his dazzling brilliance.

This was how it should have been, but Nidhogg's sudden appearance introduced many variables. He swept aside his rivals with overwhelming force to reach the final battle, earning the attention of the other dragons for the first time, though it was still not friendly. When he appeared, the entire Platinum Mountain was in an uproar. Many dragons inquired about Nidhogg's origins, seemingly surprised by the sudden emergence of such a powerful competitor. Meanwhile, his former classmates, who had studied with him in the Great Archives during their childhood and were now pillars of their respective races, still looked at Nidhogg in the arena with disdain and indifference. Over the years, they seemed to have learned nothing, not even how to conceal their emotions, making Nidhogg easily feel the undisguised malice coming from all directions.

In that instant, Nidhogg stood atop the highest point of Mount Platinum, looking down upon the masses below, and suddenly understood why they harbored such deep malice towards him, even deliberately ignoring and disregarding him—it was not merely because of his aloof and cold personality, for there were quite a few dragons among the dragon race who acted similarly to Nidhogg, but none of them had ever received such treatment.

It was an emotion deeper than jealousy and more intense than fear.

Hrascwalg is a dragon who has always gained, including bloodline, talent, and praise; while Nidhogg is a dragon who has always lost, losing his parents before birth, losing emotions after birth, and losing the friendship and praise of others because of his personality… Hrascwalg, who has always gained, should be so excellent, should be ahead of them, and become the goal that everyone pursues and looks up to. But what makes Nidhogg, who has always lost, so special? He has lost so much, so why can he become so excellent, even making the stars surrounding the sun pale in comparison? The more excellent he is, doesn't that just prove his own incompetence?

Thus, based on this complex mentality, they tacitly rehearsed a blind drama, pretending that their fellow people called "Nidhogg" had never appeared in their eyes.

It's ridiculous.

Only mediocre people are jealous of them.

Those dragons are undoubtedly mediocre, for they always gain and lose simultaneously, experiencing joy in gain and sorrow in loss, struggling repeatedly under the manipulation of these two emotions throughout their lives. They are ordinary people, trapped in this cycle, like walking a path that reflects each other between a mirror and reality, with only emptiness at the end of the path.

Only those who are constantly gaining or constantly losing are truly extraordinary in this world, such as Herraswalg and Nidhogg.

Nidhogg will make Heraswalg lose something in the final battle of this selection ceremony, falling into the dust and becoming mediocre.

No one can say for sure whether this is his persistence or a kind of enlightenment.

As he stood atop the highest peak of Mount Platinum, across a vast distance, the colossal dragon revered as "Heaven and Earth" gazed at him. His posture was one of pride and confidence, his platinum scales, inherited from the infinite dragon god Bahamut, shimmering in the sunlight. His gaze was clear and pure, showing no emotion as the entire royal city chanted his name. He simply looked calmly at Nidhogg, and before the dragon presiding over the ceremony announced the start of the final battle, he suddenly spoke: "I told you long ago that we would have a battle, but I never expected it to be here, at this time."

At this moment, the surrounding clamor seemed to vanish completely, everything turning into a distorted mirror image and fading into the distance. Nidhogg saw only his longtime rival, who was now speaking to him in a familiar tone, as if they shared a deep relationship. But in reality, before this duel, Nidhogg and Hraswag had only crossed paths once, and that was just a brief exchange of a few words; they were far from being acquainted.

So Nidhogg responded with a cold stare, not intending to communicate with Heraswalg. As if he had expected this reaction, Heraswalg shook his head helplessly and said, "Actually, I'm glad that the opponent standing in front of me in the end is you. If it were any other dragon, I wouldn't call them 'opponents'; they would be challengers, challenging me. But you are an opponent, opposing me."

"what do you want to say in the end?"

Nidhogg finally spoke, his voice hoarse and cold: "I have no interest in listening to your nonsense."

“This isn’t just empty talk; it’s what I truly think. I should have told you last time, but you didn’t seem interested.” Heraswalg smiled. “What I want to say is that I acknowledge you, and I agree with you.”

Are you trying to remind me that I'm honored by this?

"I have no right to make anyone feel honored, for before this ceremony, I was merely one of the countless dragons on Mount Platinum." He spoke these words so casually that they would shame any other dragon into suicide, yet he did so with an air of self-righteousness. This pretentious attitude was something Nidhogg utterly despised. However, Heraswalg seemed unfazed by his words and offered some irrelevant opinions on the matter. Throughout this, the dragon presiding over the ceremony showed no intention of announcing the start of the final battle, seemingly waiting for the perfect moment. Nidhogg was forced to listen to these lengthy pronouncements, which he found utterly disdainful and contemptible. Only at the very end did Heraswalg sincerely express his own view: "...So, what I really mean is, we should become good rivals...and friends."

Nidhogg's response was: "I have no interest in playing second fiddle to you with mediocre people."

“Mediocre? That’s a harsh assessment, but it’s also quite apt.” Heraswalg laughed. “They are indeed mediocre, which is why you are the one who ended up here, not any other dragon. Although it may be arrogant of me, allow me to consider you my only rival, Nidhogg. Of course, I will not relinquish the position of Dragon King to you. If you want to prove yourself, take it from my hands.”

His tone was so confident that it seemed the throne was already his for the taking.

Nidhogg said coldly, "I'm not here for such trivial matters."

Neither the Dragon King's throne nor proving himself was his true goal.

“I know,” Heraswalg chuckled casually. “That’s why I can’t let you win.”

His expression turned solemn again, and he said sternly, “The Dragon King should be the supreme leader who guides this great race forward and sets an example for all dragons, full of honor, justice, and a sense of mission. Whatever your reason for standing here, you must have reverence for it before you are qualified to pursue it. But I do not see that reverence in your eyes, Nidhogg. You are not participating in the ceremony out of a sense of responsibility as a guide or role model. In my opinion, this is a desecration.”

So, are you going to stop me?

"No, I'm going to correct you."

He spread his dragon wings, their surface covered in platinum scales, instantly obscuring all vision and plunging the endless mountains into darkness. The howling wind could no longer sweep over them, blocked by the massive wings. A pair of gleaming horns extended from either side of his brow, outlining a crescent moon, giving him an aura of nobility and holiness—truly befitting of the title "Dragon of Heaven and Earth," Herasvalg.

He said he wanted to correct himself?
Only mistakes need to be corrected.

In other words, he believed that his idea was wrong.

What makes him think that way?

Because he has always been gaining and never losing, while I have always been losing and never gaining?
Is what you gain necessarily better than what you lose?
Does existence necessarily mean that it looks down upon nothingness?
There is no such thing.

In the silence, Nidhogg also spread his dragon wings. Unlike Hraswag, his wings were riddled with holes and scars, the dark scales covering them dull and lifeless—marks left from years of constant battles and carnage. This was unavoidable; those who, like Hraswag, had endured countless battles yet remained unscathed were truly exceptional.

Therefore, he was disgustingly complete.

I will make you lose something.

Nidhogg silently repeated his oath, the very purpose for which he participated in the selection ceremony. Seeing that Hraswarg remained motionless, confidently handing over the initiative, he sneered. The instant the dragon presiding over the ceremony announced the start of the final duel, his massive body swept across the dark world, leaving a trail of afterimages as he arrived in a flash. Without testing him with dragon breath, nor needing such a weak stance, the black dragon's claws tore through the void, its low growl echoing the cries of its kin calling upon the heavens and earth: "Hraswarg, I will make you—"

"Losing pride!!!"

……

In a time-space reversal, countless mirror images are replayed, and Nidhogg once again experiences that unforgettable duel. He sees his former opponent appear before him after being baptized by the river of time. Suddenly, his dazed and confused remnant soul realizes that the turning point of fate has arrived again. He roars in a low voice, extends his dragon claws, and attacks the Countess who has become the image of Herasvalg in his eyes.

This move is exactly the same as the first one he used in the final battle thousands of years ago.

Years have passed, and he hasn't changed much, even though he's lost himself.

Perhaps it's because he's become accustomed to loss. (End of Chapter)