The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

Soron Ambrosius.

’Sounds a bit familiar. Who was that again?’

Zog started to search his memory. Although he could remember everything that had ever happened, he couldn’t recall things instantly. He had to rummage through his memories.

It was like having an ultra-high-capacity mechanical hard drive: great for storage, but with terrible read speeds.

’Ah, I remember now!’

He was the owner of the Soron Mage Tower in Twin Tower City, mentioned back in Chapter four.

So, he was an old acquaintance, in a way. Back when Twin Tower City wasn’t even called Twin Tower City, Zog had breathed fire on the Soron Mage Tower.

It wasn’t his fault he didn’t recognize him. The Soron of back then still had hair. It had only been a hundred years or so, but he’d aged this much.

"Ah!" Elsa, standing beside him, had already shrieked. "You’re the Legendary Mage Soron!"

Seeing he had a fan, Soron immediately perked up and struck another pose.

"I am the great—"

"Legendary Mage Soron!"

"Hahaha!"

Zog figured their combined mental age probably didn’t even reach adulthood.

"But, why do you look..."

"Nothing like the Legendary Mages you’ve imagined, right?"

Elsa nodded.

"In your mind, I’m supposed to be an old white-haired man in a robe, with messy hair and a long beard, leaning on a Magic Staff as tall as a person."

Elsa nodded frantically.

"How narrow-minded! Only strong muscles can wield powerful Magic!" Soron said, hitting a front double biceps pose.

Zog was starting to regret that breath of fire he’d grazed the tower with all those years ago.

He quickly stopped Elsa, who was getting swept up in the excitement, and told her to get back to business.

"Oh, right! This is our patent application."

Soron took the documents and scanned them roughly. His expression turned a bit more serious. He flipped back to the beginning and read through them again, this time carefully.

"Can you give me a demonstration?"

Elsa cast "Jump Jump."

Soron watched without blinking. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Interesting. Is this Illusion Mimicry?"

"Yes."

"Generally, magic models based on Mimicry can’t be patented because they lack practical application. However, if the ’application’ is simply for fun, then using only Mimicry could be considered a valid implementation. A very creative idea. Who is your mentor?"

Soron stamped the form as he asked.

"Lady Furin Uman."

Hearing this name, Zog’s ears twitched involuntarily.

"That explains it. The patent is approved. Now, it’s time for the Great Soron Q&A Session!"

"What?"

"The great Legendary Mage Soron will randomly appear anywhere in Twin Tower City. When you find him, you may ask him one question, and he will do his best to provide an answer."

It was hard to believe a man over a hundred years old would refer to himself in the third person. He even changed his voice while explaining the rules.

However, based on the principle of ’might as well since we’re here,’ Zog actually did have a question.

"Is there a way to share ’Jump Jump’ with others?" Elsa asked on his behalf.

As mentioned before, the Mages of this world were like isolated islands floating in a sea of Magic Power, their magic models unable to be shared with one another.

Zog’s idea was that if people couldn’t connect with each other, perhaps it was possible to connect everyone to the same thing.

In simple terms, they needed a server.

A very, very big server.

"Ooh! Good question. If you want to share it with someone, can’t you just teach them?"

"But I need to share it with a lot of people, including those who can’t use Magic."

"Ha! What kind of joke is that? We all know castable magic models can’t be shared, unless the Magic Goddess herself were to grace us with her presence..."

As he said this, Soron suddenly stopped. His expression grew serious, and he began to pace back and forth in the room.

After a long while, he finally spoke. "It seems it’s not entirely impossible. Your magic model doesn’t need to be cast."

With a wave of his hand, a book nearly thirty centimeters thick appeared out of thin air and slammed onto the table, kicking up a cloud of dust. Judging by the dull thud, the book weighed at least twenty pounds.

’A Spatial Ring,’ Zog recognized it. He had one too, but he preferred to use a Treasure Chest Monster for storage.

To him, the ring was a treasure to be collected, while the Treasure Chest Monster was not. Coincidentally, the Treasure Chest Monster’s body contained its own Spatial Magic, so it was a perfect case of putting a monster to good use.

Soron waved his hand, and the book opened automatically, its pages flipping by at high speed. His eyes were glued to it. The scene looked a lot like the "quantum wave speed-reading" from Earth. Zog wondered if he could even see anything clearly.

He clenched his fist, and the book stopped on a page.

He began to read aloud: "Deities will bestow Magic upon their followers during prayer. Although it cannot be used, comprehending the Magic allows one to understand the purpose of its Inscriptions."

Soron closed the book and returned it to his ring.

"Now the problem is simple. You just have to find a god."

"Is that simple?" Elsa was dumbfounded. ’Are gods some common, dime-a-dozen thing?’ she wondered. ’Do all Legendary Mages think in such massive leaps? My mentor is like this, and so is Soron.’

"No, no, no. You don’t need a living god. Many gods died in the war of the Divine Race last era. Later research discovered that the remains of a god can store magic models. Followers can still consult the Magic through prayer—though it’s only Magic that can’t be cast, of course. So..."

They just needed to find the remains of a god and get people to believe in that dead god.

Zog figured out the part Soron hadn’t said.

’Simply put, the god’s body is the server, the followers are the clients, faith is the internet cable, and prayer is plugging in that cable. The rule about only being able to consult but not cast the Magic is the communication protocol, established by who-knows-who.’

It felt bizarre, but it seemed they had all the necessary components for an internet.

’A carbon-based server. I have no idea how they managed to spec into this tech tree, but its potential should be higher than silicon-based ones.’

"So, can you do it?" When Soron asked this, he wasn’t looking at Elsa, but at Zog.

"Can I do what?" Elsa felt like she had missed a whole lot of things.

"Of course. The remains are hard to find, but not nonexistent. They’re always circulating on the black market. Many people believe they can cure all diseases, help one ascend to Legendary status, and so on. To answer your question completely, I’ll take you to have a look."

Soron opened a Teleportation Array.

A flash of light, and the two humans and one dragon appeared in a place resembling a tunnel. Fluorescent Stones gave off a faint glow, illuminating shops lining both sides. Most of the sellers, however, had their faces covered.

"Follow... follow me, this way," Soron panted weakly. "Opening that portal... used up all my Magic Power."

The group came to a person who looked like a beggar.

The man was dressed in tattered rags, so dirty you couldn’t tell their original color. He was curled up asleep in a corner, a bushy beard covering half his face, making his age impossible to guess.

"This is a Treasure Hunter. He’s very good at finding remains."

"One Hundred Gold Coins. Fifty for the deposit." After saying this, the Treasure Hunter closed his eyes again, clearly not open to negotiation.

Zog could afford this price. And if the game was successful, just one of these could earn back far more than a hundred gold’s worth of value.

"Is he really reliable?" Elsa thought he had the face of a swindler. ’If they have that kind of spare cash, they might as well give it to me.’

"Haven’t you ever read a novel? These types are usually a Legendary Figure with a tragic backstory. They’ve suffered, fallen into despair, but will still shoulder their responsibilities when called upon."

Soron said this from the side, sounding quite convinced.

"So, is he?"

"No."

"Huh?"

"It’s fine. Pay the deposit," Zog told Elsa. He had already memorized the man’s scent. Dragons hold grudges, have excellent memories, and live even longer lives.

Elsa wrote a check from the Royal Bank, where the toy store’s income and a small portion of Zog’s reserve funds were kept.

"Address." The Treasure Hunter seemed to be a man of few words.

"Zog’s Toy Store."

————————

After the human and the dragon had left, Soron reappeared before the Treasure Hunter.

"What kind of madman is challenging the authority of the Divine Race this time?" the Treasure Hunter asked.

"An Ancient Red Dragon, and a young Illusionist who probably has no idea what she’s gotten herself into."

"The Red Dragon that chases down nobles and robs them?"

"The very same."

"How does he plan to challenge the Deities?"

"By making a game."

"Huh?" The Treasure Hunter’s expression finally changed. He turned to look at Soron, as if to ask if he was joking.

"He really is making a game. And I suspect making the game is his main goal; challenging the Deities is just a side effect."

"Huh?" The Treasure Hunter even scrambled to his feet. He felt as though he had been a recluse for so long that he could no longer understand the world.

Stunned for a long moment, he finally said slowly, "What a madman."

"Yes," Soron agreed. "A madman indeed."