Chapter 289: Dragon’s Isle (1)
When Karnak first heard the words Dragon’s Isle, he didn’t believe it at all. A dragon in the South Sea? It was complete nonsense.
All dragons remained in the far eastern reaches of the continent, in Dragon Land, where they shared territory with the fairies. Even the dragon lairs closest to human settlements were still hundreds of kilometers away.
No one knew exactly why dragons followed such territorial habits. Scholars had proposed several theories, but none had been conclusive.
But Karnak knew the reason. It’s because the Dragon Emperor is slumbering at the heart of Dragon Land.
The oldest and mightiest of all dragons, Grateria, exuded a presence so powerful it instinctively compelled the others to stay close to him.
Wait a second. Does that mean the Dragon Emperor exists in this world too?
The name Dragon Land existed on this world’s map as well, suggesting things weren’t so different here. In any case, that was why Karnak had dismissed the notion of Dragon’s Isle as a local myth. It was likely yet another common folktale passed around by bumpkins. But as it turned out, that wasn’t the case.
The old man continued his explanation. "Did a dragon live around here? That’s not quite the case."
It wasn’t called Dragon’s Isle because a dragon had lived there. It was called Dragon’s Isle because a dragon had died there, and its bones remained.
"It’s a fairly well-known legend in these parts."
Long ago, in a time now lost to memory, an unnamed ancient dragon perished in the South Sea. No one knew when exactly it happened, why the dragon had left Dragon Land to venture so far south, or how it died.
"If all that were recorded, it wouldn’t be a legend, it’d be history, wouldn’t it?"
In any case, the ancient dragon had died on one of the Tepial Islands, and its corpse became the root of the problem. The creature was so powerful that even in death, its aura lingered. And that residual power began to twist the island around it.
Monsters overran the land, the climate turned erratic, and a fog that bewitched the minds of men blanketed the isle year-round. Sailors who passed nearby called it Demon’s Isle and feared it greatly.
"At the time, no one called it Dragon’s Isle."
The truth—that all this stemmed from a dragon’s corpse—was only uncovered about fifty years ago. It was the era when hunter guilds were rebranding themselves as adventurer guilds and expanding their reach. Adventuring became popular across the continent. To such thrill-seekers, the tale of Demon’s Isle was an irresistible lure.
"They say teams of mighty warriors, mages, and priests banded together to explore it."
Listening to the story, Leven nodded in understanding. "I see. And they all died, I suppose?"
It would explain why nothing was known to the wider world.
But the old man shook his head. "No, they all came back alive."
Leven frowned. "What?"
The island’s anomalies were certainly strange, but not so dangerous as to stop the brave. The adventurers explored the whole island, discovered that the cause was the dragon’s corpse, and returned to report it to the guild.
After that, quite a few adventurers came to Port Terrister seeking Dragon’s Isle. They hired boats to reach the Tepial Islands, explored the isle, and returned safely.
Hearing this, Serati and Varos exchanged a glance.
"Quite a few adventurers..."
"Came back after exploring it?"
The two were clearly skeptical, and the old man frowned. "What’s so strange about that?"
Varos asked, "Then why isn’t it more widely known?"
The old man explained as if it was obvious. "Well, that’s why it’s called a secret island, isn’t it?"
"No, that’s not really the issue..." Varos scratched his head, not sure how to explain it.
Meanwhile, the old men looked thoroughly puzzled. What was the problem with a secret island being a secret?
Then a man in his fifties, smiling gently, joined in the conversation. He was the tavern owner, who’d finally found a quiet moment now that the crowd had thinned. "There is a reason why Dragon’s Isle didn’t become known to the wide world, adventurers."
Varos tilted his head. "You know about it too?"
"You mean Dragon’s Isle? Everyone in the port town does," the tavern owner explained.
It was just as Milia had suspected. If even the old drunkards at the tavern knew the secret, could it really be called a secret? Of course not.
"I even saw adventurers heading out to Dragon’s Isle when I was a kid," the tavern keeper said. "I still remember how they complained when they got back."
Adventurers who had braved the trip to Dragon’s Isle would gather here, raise their mugs, and grumble with the same lament.
—Damn it! There’s not a damn thing worth taking!
In the end, adventurers risked their lives exploring dangerous places for one reason and one reason only: Money. But Dragon’s Isle held no promise of profit. It was tucked away in a remote corner of the southern sea, which meant that it posed no threat to civilization, even with all its bizarre occurrences.
In other words, there was no reason for anyone to put out a bounty to have it cleared. It wasn’t some ancient ruin or forgotten temple, either. Aside from the enormous dragon skeleton lying there, it was just an ordinary, uninhabited island. Which meant there were no relics to excavate and sell for a quick coin.
The one thing adventurers had pinned their hopes on was the unusual monsters said to appear on the island. Some monsters were inherently valuable—especially as magical catalysts bought up by mages. In fact, there were adventurers who made a living solely by hunting monsters for those rare components.
"But I’ve heard the monsters on Dragon’s Isle don’t even qualify for that," the tavern keeper noted.
The creatures on Dragon’s Isle reverted to their original forms the moment they were killed. They would fight tooth and nail to bring one down, only for it to turn into a dead rabbit or a lifeless deer.
Not a trace of the monstrous transformation remained. With nothing left behind, there was nothing to sell. It was easy to imagine just how crushing that realization must’ve been for those adventurers.
Karnak nodded in understanding. "Ah, that makes sense. It must’ve been a draconic mana phenomenon."
Dragon energy was different from the powers humans wielded. It was neither aura, mana, necromancy, nor divine power. Rather, it was a blended force, something that predated the divergence of these four.
"Which is why dragons can use all of those powers, and none of them at the same time," explained Karnak.
Dragons could hurl fire like mages, exude destructive force like aura users, heal like priests, and command spirits like necromancers. But none of it was truly magic or aura or divine or necromantic. It was just draconic mana manifesting in similar ways.
"To be precise, draconic mana does linger, but humans can’t perceive it," continued Karnak.
And if one couldn’t perceive it, they couldn’t use it. If they couldn’t use it, it had no value. And to make matters worse, Dragon’s Isle had another serious problem.
"For a place that yields nothing, it sure costs a fortune to reach," the tavern keeper added with a bitter smile.
If it were on land, adventurers could at least walk or ride there. But Dragon’s Isle was in the middle of the ocean. One had to take a ship. And a ship didn’t sail itself. It needed sailors, and that meant hiring a crew and renting a vessel, regardless of one’s personal capabilities.
With costs sky-high and nothing to gain, there was little incentive for adventurers to visit. It had sparked some early interest, but that died off quickly.
"A few mages came now and then to study draconic mana, but..."
They, too, eventually stopped coming. Sure, as a research subject, the island held some value. Reaching Dragon Land required risking your life, while Dragon’s Isle was relatively safer. But in the end, most mages would rather risk death going to Dragon Land. At least there, they could hunt monsters along the way and cover some costs. Even mages weren’t above basic economics.
Leven chuckled dryly to himself. So this is why people say money outweighs life.
And that was how people gradually stopped going to Dragon’s Isle. It faded into obscurity, remembered only by the port town’s older residents who recalled the days when adventurers still came and went.
"So it’s a dragon’s grave," Karnak murmured, nodding.
It made no sense as a dragon’s habitat. But as a grave? That was entirely plausible. Dragons didn’t exactly get to choose where they died. If one had perished in an accident, its corpse could have ended up anywhere.
That was when Serati whispered to him in a secret telepathic message.
—But why didn’t you know?
—Didn’t know what?
—That this was a dragon’s grave.
—Why wouldn’t I?
—You’re a necromancer. Aren’t necromancers supposed to be friendly with bones?
The wording was odd, but Karnak understood instantly. She was asking whether dragon bones would be valuable to a necromancer like him.
She sounded a little disappointed.
—Are draconic remains not useful for necromancy?
She’d read plenty of stories growing up, tales where evil necromancers raised undead dragons to do their bidding.
Karnak didn’t let her down.
—What are you talking about? Dragon bones make excellent catalysts. You raise even one dragon lich, and it’s a massive power spike.
There was, however, a reason Karnak had never bothered to concern himself with the southern sea. He explained.
—Dragon graves just weren’t all that rare.
Serati was shocked by the revelation.
—They’re common?
Karnak shrugged.
—In Dragon Land, they are.
Indeed. A dragon’s grave might seem like something out of legend in the southern sea, but in the far eastern reaches of the continent, such sights were commonplace, as Karnak explained.
—There’s probably one dragon skeleton per mountain out there.
What one sees depends on where one stands. To the port dwellers of the southern sea, a dragon’s grave might be a once-in-a-lifetime marvel. But to Karnak, former Monarch of Death, it was just another ordinary necromantic catalyst.
—Anyway, now I get why those old men randomly came to talk to us.
Seeing people who looked like adventurers muttering about ruins must’ve stirred their memories of youth. It probably made them nostalgic.
Wait a minute... A thought clicked, and Karnak asked, "Were there others looking for Dragon’s Isle besides us?"
It was just as he expected. The old men nodded.
"Oh, there were."
"About a week ago, I’d say?"
"Two fellas came by, asking about the Tapiel Islands."
Apparently, they’d paid a generous sum after hearing about Dragon’s Isle. That was why the old men assumed Karnak’s party had come for the same reason and approached them first.
"I see." Karnak smiled inwardly.
One of those two men sounded very familiar.
So that’s where you went, Diogres. I was wondering which direction your ship had taken.
***
After leaving the tavern, Karnak and the others began talking more seriously. It wasn’t hard to guess why Diogres would seek out dragon bones.
Karnak muttered. "He’s probably trying to use the residual draconic mana to break the seal on his magic..."
"Is that even possible?" Leven asked.
Karnak shrugged. "Beats me."
No one had ever tried such a thing, so even Karnak couldn’t give a definitive answer. "The important part is that Diogres thinks it’s possible."
Serati posed another question. "But if he regains his strength, wouldn’t that mean we don’t need to help him anymore? He’d just go back to being an archmage."
"We still need to keep him on our side," Karnak said. Even if he succeeded, Diogres was still in a vulnerable position. If Karnak’s group extended a hand now, he wouldn’t turn it down. "And for all we know, he might not be able to break the seal at all."
In any case, they needed to catch up to him soon.
Looking around the harbor cloaked in nighttime shadows, Karnak muttered, "We’ll need to hire a ship. Do we have the funds?"
Serati, having already calculated their finances, nodded confidently. "We’re good. We’re not buying a ship, just chartering one."
Karnak nodded. "Then we’ll talk to the shipowners’ guild first thing tomorrow."
With the night deepening, the group headed for their lodgings. As they walked, Varos kept glancing back toward the tavern. Everyone else was focused on Diogres, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the other man who’d been with him. He had white hair, red eyes, a sharp gaze, and a lean, athletic frame.
That guy sounds familiar...
And it wasn’t exactly a common look. But Varos soon shook his head. It couldn’t be him.
What reason would he possibly have to be helping Diogres? They hated each other.
