Great Sage

The Three-Headed Dragon is Gone.

Dawei sat alone on the crumbling ruins of the city, a blank look on his face as realization sank in. The boss was gone.

Not dead. Not defeated. Just... vanished.

After being forced out of the battlefield earlier, Dawei had cautiously made his way back to the mission's starting zone. The city was the same—still a smoldering ruin. The sky was still split by a glowing rift, and the guardian NPCs continued their slow, repetitive casting animations like nothing had happened.

But the dragon? Nowhere to be found.

"I'm here to kill a dragon," he muttered. "How am I supposed to do that when it ran off like a stray mutt?"

He had a sinking feeling in his gut. A dark suspicion that this wasn't a bug… this was the real difficulty of the mission. Not killing the boss—but finding it. The system had likely activated some hidden 'infinite pit' mode, where the real game wasn't about combat, but about chasing ghosts through a world the size of a small continent.

And so began the game of hide-and-seek with a three-headed hell beast.

The idea was almost laughable. A massive, world-class game that took years to develop, pulling tricks like this? But then again, Mercenary World had always claimed to reward unconventional thinking. Maybe brute force was never the solution.

And if the system allowed the boss to disappear, then somewhere out there, it must be hiding. It gave Dawei a sliver of hope. The kind of frustrating, addicting hope that kept gamblers in the casino long after they should've left.

And Dawei? He'd already bet his entire life savings on this.

"There has to be a way," he said to himself, standing up and brushing rubble off his hoodie. "There's always a way. No one makes an impossible quest with no solution. Right?"

With no time limit, and no immediate threats, Dawei finally had the chance to soak in the world. The 98% holographic realism was unreal. Every breath his character took matched his own. He could smell scorched stone and feel the subtle wind through his avatar's torn clothes. This was why the world called it a second reality.

Still, he had a job to do.

Dawei glanced at the sky-bound guardian NPCs, casting their spells like decorative statues. He tried communicating with them, but they ignored him completely.

Figures. Can't just ask for help. No free lunches.

"Well, it's a city, right? There has to be residents somewhere." He nodded to himself. "If NPCs can ignore me, that means they can also notice me. Time to do some actual legwork."

The three-headed dragon had appeared in the city's center. Logic dictated the surviving civilians—if there were any—would have fled outward. And so, he began to explore, street by street, hoping to find signs of life.

Two hours passed. Then three. He even idled while using the in-game bathroom system. Nothing. Just ruins and silence.

Then—at hour five—he found it.

A camp, cobbled together from tents and salvaged materials, just outside the city's edge.

Dawei almost cried.

"Stand where you are, outsider! Why have you come to Dakazan?"

A gruff-looking man with a white refugee ID stepped forward, glaring suspiciously. The others around him raised makeshift weapons.

System Prompt:Dakazan citizens are hostile toward you!

Jackpot.

This was classic game design. The "you're not from around here" trope. Every RPG player knew the cue. If an NPC calls you an outsider in a cutscene, plot's about to happen.

Dawei cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I'm the warrior chosen by the gods to slay the three-headed dragon and save this city."

System Prompt:Dakazan citizens are lowering hostility.

The tension eased. The NPCs exchanged uncertain glances. Sure, he looked like a weak little scrub, but anyone crazy enough to talk about slaying the three-headed dragon was either insane… or legitimate.

"You shouldn't have come here," said the refugee. "Dakazan is cursed. That's why the dragons attack. No outsider has dared enter for a thousand years. I hope you haven't brought the curse upon yourself, brave warrior."

"I'm willing to risk it," Dawei said seriously. "Please. Tell me what happened here."

The NPC began to explain, voice low and haunted.

A thousand years ago, Dakazan was ruled by a powerful noble—Count Morvain. A man of immense magical talent. But his hunger for power led him into darkness. He became a vampire, cursed to thirst for blood under the full moon, and the shadow of his magic has never left Dakazan. The land itself is bound by his curse, trapped in eternal ruin. Outsiders cannot enter safely, and residents cannot leave.

System Prompt:Player has acquired information: [The Curse of Count Morvain]

Dawei stroked his chin thoughtfully. "A vampire count, ancient evil, and a cursed city being attacked by dragons. That's… a lot."

Thematically, it all fit. The vampire and three-headed dragon were likely tied together. Both dark creatures. Both tied to this city's fall. But right now, lore wasn't as important as progress.

Dawei leaned in. "The dragons disappeared. I came to fight them, but now they're gone. Do you know where they went?"

The NPC's expression hardened. "Then I hope the curse hasn't touched you yet. You should leave while you still can."

Wow. Rude.

Dawei internally cursed the sudden cold shoulder. A minute ago, this guy was pouring out centuries of lore, and now he shut down like a bad date.

Still, there had to be more.

Dawei pushed. "What about Count Morvain? How can I find him?"

The NPC glanced westward, face grim.

"They say his castle lies within the Cursed Forest, west of here."