Chapter 82: Perfect Intelligent Mechanized Catastrophe-Level Stellar Envoy Dragon Mechanic [Combined]

Rain lashed down upon Yujin Base like a ceaseless storm of wrath.

Rocks rained from the sky like bullets, shattering the island’s crust. The land cracked and collapsed, as if the world itself were unraveling. Once a pristine outdoor training ground where Stellar Prodigy trainees once honed their skills, it now lay pockmarked and ruined beneath the relentless hail of falling stone.

The distant mess hall had been flattened like a crumpled cake, scattered across the ground in fragments, its remains engulfed in fire and explosions.

Yet even these scenes were not the worst.

As two of the only areas targeted by the devastating Skyfall, the outer staff dormitories had been utterly annihilated. One of the largest dorm buildings had been split nearly in half by some colossal boulder, revealing its honeycombed interior like the inside of a beehive.

“Help! Please—help me!”

“Med team! West Sector needs backup!”

Amid the cacophony of screams from the surviving outer personnel, Tian Dao stepped calmly toward the main gate, lifting his gaze to the heavens.

Above him, a massive floating island pierced through the thick, churning clouds, its icy peak emerging like the tip of a frozen mountain.

Atop that island stood a group of individuals clad in the distinctive uniforms of the Stellar Envoy Association—cold, impassive, and utterly detached. They stood as if observing a mere spectacle, their eyes fixed on the chaos below: the fire, the explosions, the frantic, terrified figures fleeing through the ruins of Yujin Base.

To them, the outer members of the Embers Organization were nothing more than insects—scuttling, insignificant, and easily extinguished. Their deaths? Irrelevant. Their fear? Unworthy of expression.

But amidst this detachment, two figures stood out—different in their gaze.

One was Referee·Goen, from the Deep Blue Branch.

The other was the Clock Knight·William, from the Steam Branch.

Goen’s expression was one of disgust.

William’s, in contrast, was one of quiet sorrow.

“William,” said Benjamin Ironcrown, the explosives expert standing beside him, “it’s just a bunch of self-destructive fools. You don’t need to pity them.”

But William shook his head. “No, Captain… I still believe there’s someone worth saving among them. That’s why—”

“No why, William,” Benjamin cut in sharply, his voice cold and sudden. “Remember your rank. You’re just a deputy branch leader. Byron-sama is a special envoy from the Central Council.”

“You have no authority—no right—to question his decisions.”

William fell silent, his expression clouded. He stared at Benjamin, the man he had once trusted, now revealing a chilling indifference to life.

It was as if he were seeing this man for the first time—this new, cold commander suddenly dropped from the Central Council into Steam Capital.

Meanwhile, Deep Blue Branch’s elite squad leader, Sea Spider·Isaiah, suddenly noticed Goen turning away.

“Goen,” he snapped, “where are you going?”

Goen didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back. With one hand still in his pocket, he lifted the other and lazily waved it over his shoulder—dismissive, arrogant.

“Just a one-sided slaughter,” he said, voice dry. “What’s there to watch?”

“Games are only meaningful when there’s some fairness—even if it’s just for show.”

With that, Goen found a flat rock and stretched out on it, lying down with no regard for discipline.

Isaiah’s face twisted in fury.

This wasn’t just disrespect—it was a direct challenge to his authority. Worse, it made him look foolish in front of Byron, the Central Council envoy. And Isaiah had been counting on this moment to impress Byron, to earn a place in the elite council.

Now, Goen was sleeping?

Isaiah took a step forward, ready to punish him.

But before he could act—Byron, the Central Council envoy who had been silently commanding Skyfall, spoke.

“Let him be, Isaiah. If Goen wants to rest, let him. Don’t disturb him. His task… is far more vital than yours.”

“Y-Yes, honored Byron Envoy.”

Again.

Always again.

Isaiah’s face burned with humiliation. Byron, the very embodiment of the Central Council, was once again showing Goen unfettered tolerance—as if his every reckless act were forgiven.

And Goen, lying on the rock, saw it all. With a smirk, he turned his head and gave Isaiah a slow, mocking smile.

Isaiah’s blood boiled. Why? Why did he—the real captain of the Third Squad—get no such mercy?

Was it because Goen was younger?

Because he was the only one in the branch with a 100% mission completion rate?

But Isaiah knew—he could do the same. If he had the same freedom, the same resources, the same unchecked power—he could achieve perfection too.

Damn you, Goen.

Wait until I get my chance… then you’ll regret this.

Goen, however, didn’t care. He knew exactly what was going through Isaiah’s mind.

And he didn’t fear it.

Because from the moment Isaiah chose to grovel before Byron—seeking entry into the Central Council—he had already surrendered his dignity.

In the game of life, a man who has lost his confidence and self-respect can never compete on the same stage.

True, Byron, as the Referee, could tip the balance of a match.

But only if the players were strong enough to matter.

And Isaiah? He wasn’t even close.

And Byron? Even he might not help him.

Goen let out a full, unapologetic laugh—loud, careless, and utterly defiant.

Isaiah heard it. His control snapped.

He stepped forward, ready to tear the truth from Goen’s throat.

But just then, Byron spoke again.

“Enough. I’ve neutralized most of the Stellar Energy Detectors below.”

“Once that one comes out and I’ve pinned him down, you’ll move in and deploy the four Stellar Beast Induction Devices.”

“Yes,” Isaiah and Benjamin answered in unison.

Then they turned toward the four towering devices—each standing ten meters high.

But at that moment—a thunderous roar split the sky.

From deep within Yujin Base, a dragon’s cry echoed through the storm.

Moments later, in stunned silence, a massive mechanical dragon—entirely forged from advanced alloy—burst from the fire and wreckage, wings unfurling as it soared into the stormy sky.

And atop its head, a figure—familiar, unyielding.

Byron’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Finally. You’ve come out at last, Doctor of Embers. Or should I say… former prodigy of the Central Council, the legendary Dragon Mechanic, the Level-3 Perfect Intelligent Mechanized Stellar Envoy—Dragong Cyberkross.”

Byron’s voice trembled with anticipation.

The Doctor, riding the mechanical dragon, ignored the falling debris, the explosions, the chaos. He flew straight upward—until he met Byron’s gaze atop the floating island.

No words passed between them.

But an invisible clash of wills erupted between the two.

Even the other Stellar Envoys—Benjamin, a Level-2 Upper, and Isaiah, a Level-2 Mid—felt their bodies buckle beneath the sheer pressure. They dropped to their knees, unable to resist.

Only Goen and William stood firm.

Goen, now standing, gripped a red card tightly in his hand, eyes alight with thrill.

If I were the Referee… could I manipulate the match? Could I pull off an upset?

William clenched his jaw, his hands pressing into the earth as he anchored his Second-Hand Giant Sword. He would not kneel. Not to an enemy. Not ever.

And the Doctor, seeing this, looked genuinely surprised.

Then, for the first time, he spoke—louder than before.

“Byron… you’ve truly gathered two excellent tools for my Key.”

“A madman chasing absolute extremes. A fool chasing impossible dreams. Both… possess the potential to forge Perfection.”

“After all, Perfection never comes to those who hesitate.”

“And that’s why you’ll never catch up.”

Byron did not agree.

Slowly, he removed his mask—revealing a face entirely reshaped by machinery, a nightmare of steel and circuits.

“Is that so?” Byron’s voice was cold. “Then tell me—why is it that I, your so-called ‘mortal,’ now have you trapped in this storm?”

“And once I take your Key… even a mere human can forge Perfection.”

To his surprise, the Doctor didn’t rage. Instead, he sighed—disappointed.

“Byron… even after fifteen years, you still can’t face reality.”

“You’d have already forged Perfection if you could. You wouldn’t need my Key.”

“And if you can’t… then even with the Key, you’ll fail.”

“On that point… even your two juniors see clearer than you.”

“Because they know exactly what Perfection means to them.”

Silence.

Byron’s smile faded. His expression darkened.

He raised his hand.

The floating island trembled.

Then, with a thunderous crack, a colossal fortress—crafted from the highest-tier technology—split open from within the island’s core.

Byron stepped forward, standing atop the fortress’s peak.

The sheer power of a Level-4 Upper Stellar Envoy warped the clouds around him.

He locked eyes with the Doctor, far away.

“Dragong… Perfection or not… a stray dog like you doesn’t get to define it.”

“Once I take your Key, I’ll decide for myself.”

Boom!

A thunderclap split the sky.

Without words, both men began ascending—rising higher into the storm clouds.

They knew well: even a single ripple from their battle would annihilate everything around them.

That was why the title Catastrophe existed.

A Catastrophe—a level reserved for those whose power could erase entire regions.

And though the Doctor was only Level-3 Perfect, his strength was equal to a Level-4.

So both were Catastrophe-level.

Two such beings colliding would create only ruin.

So they vanished into the storm.

And the rest—left behind on the floating island—finally exhaled.

After a brief pause, they obeyed Byron’s earlier order, moving toward the four towering Stellar Beast Induction Devices.

But one more broke the rules.

“Goen! What are you doing? Don’t you remember what Byron said?!”

Isaiah roared, furious. Goen had lain down again—on the same rock.

Without Byron to silence him, Isaiah could no longer hold back.

Goen, however, didn’t even look up. His voice was lazy, yet firm.

“Please, Isaiah… you want me to lure a pack of Stellar Beasts to attack a bunch of Level-2s?”

“Isn’t that just like having me beat up the opponent before the match even starts?”

“Remember—my power as Referee comes from fairness. From the audience’s belief.”

“If they think I’m biased, then my role dies.”

“So no matter how important the match, my first duty isn’t to win. It’s to make sure the audience believes it’s fair.”

“Only then can I wield their trust.”

He stretched, yawned, then scratched his back.

“Isaiah… I’ve already pretended not to see you beat up the enemy’s athlete.”

“But if you drag me into this dirty game… then you’ll have to deal with me first.”

“Because the audience sees everything. You can fool yourself—but not them.”

With that, Goen turned over, closed his eyes, and began snoring.

That damn idiot!

Sleeping in the middle of this critical moment?!

But then, William—already halfway to the devices—stopped.

“What’s your problem now?” Isaiah barked.

William turned, calm.

“Isaiah… Goen’s right.”

“I may fool myself. But I can’t fool the audience.”

“Just as a knight’s justice is to face a fully armed enemy—not to slaughter defenseless civilians.”

“I already failed once by not stopping Byron.”

“So I won’t fail again.”

“I know victory justifies any means… but a true knight doesn’t use that as an excuse to lie to himself.”

“I can watch you deploy those devices… but I won’t pick up the blade.”

“Sorry.”

Isaiah froze.

He couldn’t believe it. In a world of cold calculation and ruthless ambition—how could such a fool still exist?

Knight’s honor?

You’re a joke. How have you survived this long?

But before he could speak—Goen, who had been pretending to sleep, suddenly opened one eye.

“Well, well. I didn’t expect a real one among these fools.”

“Seems the dragon rider was right—you do have the potential to forge Perfection.”

“But you woke up a little too late. You’ve already taken a wrong turn.”

William smiled. “Yes, Goen. I made mistakes. I took the wrong path.”

“But when I became a father… when I held my daughter in my arms… I finally saw my error.”

“I had to become a better man—for her. A role model.”

“Because a father should be someone his child can be proud of.”

Goen turned over, sitting up.

He looked at William, rain dripping from his face.

“…So that’s it.”

“Funny. I’ve heard people say the greatest treasure of humans isn’t intelligence… but emotion.”

“A machine could never understand that.”

“To change for someone… to reject your past… it’s like a machine erasing its own code and rewriting itself. Suicide.”

“But…” Goen stood, ignoring Isaiah’s furious glare, and stepped toward William.

“…You must think carefully. I reject corruption—because I value fairness. But that doesn’t mean I’m against capital.”

“I know someone plans to harm the outside players. I’ll warn them. But I won’t risk my life to help.”

“Because to run a good game… you need audience… and capital.”

“Compromise… and being compromised… are both part of being a Referee.”

“But you? You’ve put yourself on the fire. You could die at any moment.”

“Even the weakest civilian… with the right chance… can kill a knight.”

William didn’t flinch.

“If the knight’s path is in my heart… then my body doesn’t need to return home.”

Goen stared, then sighed.

“…I see. No wonder the dragon rider called you a fool. You really are.”

Even Isaiah and the others didn’t understand.

But Goen did.

William meant: better to die standing, pure and proud—than to live, carrying guilt, forever ashamed.

One lived, but died inside.

The other died… but lived on in spirit.

Goen understood. But he didn’t agree.

What’s the point of a heart… if the body’s already gone?

Yet… he respected him.

“Fine,” Goen said. “Do as you wish.”

“If you fall… don’t worry. If I can, I’ll bring your heart back.”

“But I can’t help but think… your daughter might be better off not knowing.”

William smiled, raising his right hand—showing a pink children’s watch.

In Goen’s face—like he’d swallowed a lemon—he said proudly:

“No. If she learns what her father did… she’ll tell everyone, with pride, that she has a father like me.”

“Just like I tell everyone with pride that I have a daughter like her.”

“…”

“…Damn it. Why do I feel like I’ve said too much? You two are nothing alike—except for the fact that you’re both… unreachable. I can’t have that. I can’t even imagine it.”

“I’m going back to sleep. Don’t wake me.”

“Isaiah—when the Level-2 Perfect, Dream Starlight Envoy, shows up… send for me.”

“I need to rest. I can’t afford to fall asleep mid-battle with her.”

And with that, Goen lay back down—genuine sleep this time.

The Dream Starlight Envoy… was no joke.

Isaiah wanted to ignore him. To let Byron punish him later.

But he couldn’t.

Among all the Level-2 Envoys here… only Goen could hold her off.

So he swallowed his pride.

“Damn it… the Catastrophe was right. Two fools. One madman. One hopeless dreamer.”

“Perfection? Screw that. I just want to survive.”

With that, he led the others to deploy the Stellar Beast Induction Devices.

High above, safe from the beasts they’d summon, they had no fear.

Even if the resulting Stellar Beast surge didn’t destroy Yujin Base…

It would still drain their defenses.

Then, when the time came, they’d descend—unopposed.

And find the Key Byron so desperately sought.

The one that led to true Perfection.

---

Ground Level, Main Gate

“Tian Dao… do you think Doctor and we… will make it through this?”

Chen Xing lowered his Yao Dao, voice heavy with worry.

Beside him, Tian Dao stood silent, back turned.

But the other Stellar Prodigy—Chen Kong, Jing Ruli, and the rest—had already gathered around him.

They didn’t know what had happened.

But the meteor shower… the mechanical dragon… it was all too clear.

This was no ordinary day.

Instinctively, they turned to Tian Dao—not just for guidance, but for hope.

Because to them, Tian Dao wasn’t just a leader.

He was their destiny.

As long as he was there, no path was too dark. No obstacle too great.

He would lead them through the endless tunnel… to the dawn.

Tian Dao turned slowly.

He looked into their eyes—filled with hope, fear, trust.

And then… he smiled.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll all be safe. So will Doctor.”

“Because I’ve already seen… your tomorrow.”

The words were simple.

But in that moment—ten hearts relaxed.

Even if they knew it was likely just comfort…

It felt real.

Because when Tian Dao said it…

It was impossible not to believe.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end