Chapter 1: The Day the Dragon Slept (1)
December 31, 2138 – The day my world ended.
Sounds like something out of a teenage melodrama, doesn't it? But I say this both rhetorically and literally.
If I were to explain it all in detail, it'd take a while—but time is the one thing I have plenty of now. So allow me to fill this space with my story.
Once upon a time, humanity dreamed of a radiant future. But in reality, we devastated this blue planet—no, we utterly ruined it. From space, Earth might still shine with a blue hue, but on the inside, it's a dying world: choked by ash-gray smog, polluted skies, and the shattered remnants of nature.
I don't believe humanity meant to end up this way.
Everyone was simply chasing their own interests, and in the end, it all came to a head. I'm just a regular guy—what would I know about what those lofty elites were thinking? But whatever their intentions were, their conflicts are what led the world into this mess.
Everything ended around the year 2100, when the Third World War broke out.
That was the final nail in the coffin. With Neo-Nazis running rampant, global terrorist networks striking everywhere, the collapse of national governments, and the rise of mega-corporations that replaced state powers—the world spiraled into chaos.
For the average person, seeing a clear sky became something you could only dream about. Countless liberal arts subjects disappeared from universities.
And in this crumbling world, the only thing left was… dreaming.
But there was still a place where people could dream.
The world's first DMMO-RPG (Dive Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game)—Yggdrasil.
This VR game burst onto the scene with an ambitious tagline: "In a dying world, we will show you a new one." And it truly became a beacon of hope and dreams for countless people around the world.
Due to laws governing cyberbrain interface technology, taste and smell could no longer be simulated in virtual reality, so fully immersing oneself in that world forever wasn't possible.
Still, for people living in a time when vacations and travel were out of the question, just being able to see nature or another world with their own eyes was more than enough.
But this was also a time when the concept of nationhood had collapsed, and many people couldn't even receive a basic education.
In a society where the vast majority were treated as cogs in a machine—or worse, disposable trash—I was one of the lucky few.
Yes, I was lucky.
Ten years ago, my family wasn't quite at the bottom of society. Thanks to that, I was able to finish higher education and carry a small glimmer of hope for the future. But that hope proved fleeting. I was in an accident on my way home from my very first job interview.
A car crash.
I was lucky to survive, but I fell into a coma for a month. My spine was severely damaged, leaving my lower body paralyzed, and several of my organs had to be replaced with artificial ones. When I finally woke up, my first instinct was to find the person responsible.
But it was already over.
The driver was the son of a major corporate executive. And really, how many people in this world still owned personal vehicles, let alone drove recklessly without worrying about fuel costs?
In any case, a settlement had already been reached.
In exchange for covering up the son's crime, my parents received generous compensation.
My father got a new job, and my younger sibling was promised employment upon graduation.
I couldn't accept it—but I had no choice.
If we'd been truly lower class, we might've only gotten a token settlement.
It was only because we had a few connections that we got even that much—my father's resigned words brought me to tears.
After that, I tried to convince myself it wasn't so bad.
At least now, I had enough money to live on for the rest of my life. All that was left to do was enjoy myself.
So it was only natural that I would end up getting completely absorbed in the VR game Yggdrasil, which was at the height of its popularity at the time.
Though it didn't feel exactly like real life, it was a world where I could move freely—and right then, a brand-new race and class had just been released.
[New Race Release! The Ultimate Race—Dragon! Experience the power of a legendary species and their mighty kin! Live the legend in Yggdrasil!]
I had to play it!
It felt like the world itself was telling me to dive in.
The ultimate race—Dragon! A massive body, overwhelming strength and magic power that dwarfed other races, and exclusive dragon-type classes with abilities far beyond the norm!
Plus, new race-specific quests came bundled with the patch! There was no way I could pass that up.
Sure, it was clearly designed to attract new players—but I didn't know that at the time…
And it turned out to be really hard.
I also learned a harsh truth: game advertisements never tell the full story.
The Dragon—A race with the highest potential.
Of course, it was the strongest race—at least in terms of raw physical stats.
Compared to humans, demi-humans, and heteromorphic races at the same level, dragons boasted several times more HP, MP, and overall stats.
Their exclusive class skills were incredibly powerful, too. Just based on that, calling them the strongest race didn't feel like an exaggeration—if not for one fatal flaw.
Equipment restrictions.
Dragons had immense HP and MP, sure—but their physical size matched that scale. Just like the dragons depicted in legends and fantasy media, they were massive, and Yggdrasil faithfully recreated that.
Most human-type characters were at most 2 meters tall.
The hidden race Giant, unlockable via special quests and items, was about 4 to 5 meters.
Even among demi-humans and heteromorphs, 10 meters was considered the upper limit.
But dragons? A newly created dragon started at 10 meters tall—and Ancient Dragons could exceed 20 meters in length.
They were truly a colossal race.
And this massive body? It was the dragon's greatest weakness.
Their sheer size made it impossible to enter narrow dungeons.
During hunts, they attracted so much aggro that they ended up getting hit by everything.
On top of that, their anatomy was so different from humanoid races that most equipment simply didn't work on them.
Swords, spears, sabers, bows—nearly all weapon items were designed for humanoid characters or at least those with graspable limbs.
Magic tools like staffs, staves, rings, and circlets were also built with humanoids in mind.
And like most RPGs, Yggdrasil was a game where gear could make or break you—amplifying your power by several times, or even dozens of times.
So imagine how devastating it was for dragons to be unable to properly equip items.
The penalties were brutal.
Thankfully, the developers were aware of this limitation.
Later updates introduced special quests and job-level unlocks that allowed dragon players to revert to a humanoid-dragon hybrid form, scaling their stats down to human levels.
But there was a catch.
The true strength of demi-human and heteromorph races came from stacked race levels, which gave them superior physical potential.
Lowering a dragon's stats to human levels effectively nullified those race levels—leaving you with only job levels.
Who in their right mind would choose to nerf themselves just to make the race playable?
Unsurprisingly, dragons were soon branded with the sarcastic label "the strongest race" (lol).
Most players deleted their dragon characters shortly after trying them out.
Eventually, a new playable race—Dragonkin—was released separately.
Unlike full dragons, these hybrids could use gear and explore normally.
Naturally, people began switching over. And before long, actual dragon players became extinct.
…Except for one.
Me.
Once I made my choice, some stubborn pride kicked in. I was determined to see this doomed race through to the bitter end.
Fortunately, I had money—and in Yggdrasil, money could overcome racial limits.
I had received more compensation than I could ever spend in my lifetime, especially since my real body couldn't even move.
So I poured funds into customizing equipment that would fit a dragon.
I used EXP-boosting items like water. And over time, I met like-minded weirdo friends who were just as eccentric as me.
Eventually, I became the last remaining dragon player—a title that earned me quite a bit of fame.
That's when I was invited to join one of the game's most elite factions:
The Twelve Guardians — the strongest guild of the demi-human race.
In Yggdrasil, there were three major race types: Human, Demi-human, and Heteromorphic.
And the Twelve Guardians was the top-tier guild made by demi-humans, for demi-humans.
A coalition formed by twelve powerful guilds—Yggdrasil's first and largest alliance.
Getting invited into that guild marked a turning point for me.
What started as just a game became something more. More fun than the real world. More real than reality.
I started wishing that those joyful days in Yggdrasil… would never end.