The Villain's Story Chapter [537]...is a dead dragon.

Chapter 537 [537]...is a dead dragon.

"... You?"

He felt nothing in his mouth, nor in the artifact embedded in his tongue. He felt no echo in the air as his voice was heard by both himself and the one who held a blade at his neck.

Furthermore, he didn't feel...like he had spoken at all, yet he heard his own voice.

That led him to the conclusion he was talking to himself.

Haha.

The lack of mana had driven him insane, and he had figured it out. He was talking to himself, or in his mind.

But the feeling of the blade on his neck was real, he knew that at least. Just as various conjectures appeared in his thoughts, he heard the voice again.

"A pathetic state you've been reduced to."

He glanced at the blade on his neck, surprisingly, he no longer felt the restraints that kept his body in place, but...he still couldn't move. He felt nothing binding him, but he still was unable to move even the tiniest bit.

"It is you..."

He recognized the blade, and the voice. The infamous Mohei Jian, that was consumed by his own spear, and it's owner...

The man who was the first to witness and fight his full form, and to this date had been the only one.

The Heavenly Demon, Ma Cheon.

"How..."

He remembered he killed this man, and had his corpse buried under the rubble and snow of his own mountain. But here he was, standing right behind him and wielding his malicious blade. He felt his proud crimson blood drip down his neck and onto the darkness below. Disappearing into it.

"Are you proud?"

He heard Ma Cheon speak, but was unable to put forth a response. He wondered.

What do you mean?

What exactly do you mean by that?

He was still wondering if this was a dream or not, but with each pa.s.sing second the impossibility that was this situation being real was coming to light.

"Are you proud, oh dragon?"

"What do you mean?"

In the end, he asked the man himself, Not even expecting a response. He begrudgingly stared at the ground.

"Are you proud that you have been reduced to such a state?"

"How can I be proud...?"

He rebuked with ferocity, but all of it was a farce. How could he be proud in such a situation.

He didn't expect to be ambushed just when he was about to unleash his most powerful skill, He didn't expect it! Who could have?!

He didn't even think he would meet a human here! What is this turn of events that happened in such an unpredictable and sudden fashion? Bizarre!

"Your blood is that of something that reduced Murim to ashes!"

A frustrated yell was heard behind him, one that was expectant and disappointed.

"Buried under a thousand layers of frigid cold, of snow that would never disappear nor melt under the harsh sun! How could you have been reduced to such a state?!"

Frustration evolved into anger, rage even. Alan's breathing hastened as he looked like he was more haggard than ever.

"You were valiant! Honorable! Fight back, you fool!"

"What happened to you?! Have you succ.u.mbed to the fickle thing that is fate?"

The barrage of words continued, and the blade snuck deeper into his neck with every sentence that Ma Cheon spoke. It was like he...disappointed. Like, he was unable to accept the fact that Alan was in such a state.

"You possess...power... Use it!"

"What power?"

Finally, he had enough and spoke back. He looked defiant as he spoke in a loud voice, filled with hesitation and defeat.

"What power do I have...? I have no mana and the power of my bloodline has been reduced to nothing! What power do I have?!"

He did not stop, he continued, each word of his carried a weight Ma Cheon struggled to bear, but understood clearly.

"What power do I have?! The last vestiges of my strength are being sucked away, and with each pa.s.sing second...my body is dying. I am a dragon...and I heavily depend on my mana to sustain my life... I can't do anything without it."

This wasn't himself. He would still fight even if the odds were worse than this... It was just. Since his body and cells so desperately needed mana, they had given up.

And once his mighty body had given up his mind was inclined to follow. He couldn't even against this depression that was appearing.

Everything had given up!

"..."

For the first time, Ma Cheon fell silent. The defiance in his eyes was still apparent, but there was something else.

"So is this it?"

With a soft voice, he asked.

"Is this it? Is this how you have come to believe your legacy to end?"

Alan laughed in his mind, Legacy? What legacy?

"Do you not seek revenge?"

He laughed yet again, He knew the moment he died something else, something much more sinister would take hold and would probably get revenge him, whether it was intended or not.

But...he didn't want that.

There was still a fire inside his heart that burned...but it was ever so close to being wiped out.

"Is this how...the dragon that destroyed the legacy of Murim will die? Imprisoned...weak...and begging for death?"

Those words of his finally invoked a reaction within him, but how could he use it?

"Do you not have someone you love? Regret? Why not fight for it like I fought for my world?! For the respect and honor of those that were my equals! For the promise I made?"

Numerous faces flashed in front of his eyes. Sabrina, Samantha, His grandparents, Kazikato, Alexander, Lucas...and a few more.

"I..."

He spoke, but this time, he felt as if his tongue had moved!

He gathered his strength, whatever of it was left in his dying body.

"I do...have some regrets..."

"Then why not use them to enliven yourself? To force yourself out of this predicament?!"

"BUT HOW?!"

He yelled back, ferociously, like a beast that had enough. He knew he needed to fight back... Likewise, he knew he needed to do something, but how must he do it?!

Ma Cheon's blade shone with a black light, an energy Alan yearned for but knew could never acquire.

"The blood of a heavenly beast that wielded aura like it was mana to you dragons runs within you...and so does my soul. You are not powerless...you must realize that."

But before Alan could ask how, he felt a sharp impact on his chin, and heard the voice of the man who put him here and in this condition.

"Shut up."