MMORPG: Birth of the World's Luckiest Player-Chapter 184: The Lyre of the Dragon-Steed

The Spring of Purity was one of the five legendary springs of the Dreamland Continent. Born from the Pure Spring itself, it represented the most concentrated form of negative energy in existence: pure, biting cold, and saturated with ancient mystical power. For centuries, master alchemists coveted it for brewing top-tier potions, while legendary smiths used it to temper weapons meant to rival divine artifacts.

According to legend, if one could acquire a Solar Elixir refined from a Mythic Beast and immerse it in the Spring of Purity for seven days and seven nights, the violent opposition between solar and lunar energies would eventually stabilize. Only after such a process could a human drink the water safely, avoiding the fate of having their organs frozen solid from the inside.

A thousand years ago, even a single jar of this water was priceless. Drinking it would increase health regeneration by one hundred points, raise both Constitution and Agility by twenty points, and grant a staggering fifty percent resistance to water-based attacks. Depending on the core used during the harmonization process, additional hidden attributes could also be unlocked.

Time, however, had not been kind to the spring.

Over the last millennium, the lunar energy within the Pure Spring had been steadily siphoned away. The source had weakened, its once overwhelming potency reduced to a fraction of what it had been. While the water could now be consumed directly without any elaborate ritual, its effects were nowhere near their former glory. The once-feared treasure was now officially classified as Weakened Spring of Purity.

—

Weakened Spring of Purity

Effects: Increases Health Regeneration by 50, Constitution by 10, Agility by 10, and Water Resistance by 20%.

Note: This is unrefined springwater. Each individual can only benefit from one jar. Consuming additional jars grants no extra benefits and carries a 50% chance of severe poisoning.

—

Since no special preparation was required, Marcus did not hesitate. He lifted the jar of Weakened Spring of Purity and drank it in one go. A sharp, icy sensation slid down his throat, spreading through his chest and limbs like a controlled shock. The cold did not hurt. Instead, it left him feeling astonishingly refreshed, as if his entire body had been cleansed and reset.

Ding!

"Congratulations, Stonehaven. You have consumed Weakened Spring of Purity. Your Health Regeneration has increased by 50, Constitution and Agility by 10, and Water Resistance by 20%."

A broad grin spread across Marcus’s face as he processed the notification. With fifty points of regeneration from the springwater and another fifty from his Knight’s Prayer skill, he was now restoring one hundred HP every second without lifting a finger.

At his current level, most Level 30 monsters dealt around one hundred damage per attack. With regeneration like this, he could stand in the middle of a fight and barely notice his health bar dip. Grinding no longer required potions, and in player-versus-player combat, the advantage was even more absurd. He was, for all practical purposes, a walking fortress. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

He refilled the now-empty jar and crouched beside the spring, peering into its depths. The water was impossibly clear, yet its deep icy-blue glow and the thick mist of frozen vapor hovering above the surface made it impossible to see the bottom.

"The energy is being drained," Marcus muttered, recalling the item description. "Someone, or something, is absorbing it."

His eyes swept across the pool, searching for any sign of movement, but the mist revealed nothing.

Could it be the Soul-Mist Water Demon Cat, the Divine Beast the Water Moon Cult had once tried to raise? That seemed unlikely. A beast would not drain the spring so methodically. A person, then? Perhaps a remnant of the Water Moon Cult itself. Some ancient warlock who had survived for a thousand years, hiding beneath the spring and feeding off its power.

The thought sent a chill crawling up his spine. Anything capable of lingering here for centuries while siphoning energy from a legendary spring was not something he wanted to disturb.

"Better to take my loot and leave," Marcus decided quietly. "No reason to wake something that should stay asleep."

Still, envy crept in despite his caution. If he could learn a technique to absorb pure negative energy like that, the growth potential was terrifying. Shaking the thought away, he turned and hurried toward the four legendary items waiting nearby.

The first was the Dragon-Horse Lyre.

It was a Purple Divine Artifact, crafted personally by the Goddess of Dreams. The instrument had been made using the bones of the Twin-Winged Gold Horse King, silk harvested from Fire Dragon Silkworms of Cloud-Mist Mountain, and sinew taken from a Great Dragon. As a quest item, its true effects remained sealed. It could neither be appraised nor used.

Ding!

"Congratulations, Stonehaven. You have obtained the quest item: Dragon-Horse Lyre. Deliver this artifact to the Diamond-tier Pegasus Knight, Mare, in Pegasus Citadel as soon as possible. Warning: Protect the Lyre at all costs. Upon death, the Dragon-Horse Lyre will be dropped."

The quest updated the instant his fingers brushed the instrument. Marcus sighed lightly. It was a shame he could not use it yet. His imagination ran wild anyway. He pictured himself playing the lyre across the Atlan Plains, taming every high-tier stallion that heard its melody, or returning to Star Lake and capturing an entire herd of Pegasi in one go. Rich, stylish, and unstoppable. The dream was tempting.

Reluctantly, he stored the lyre in his inventory and reached for the second item.

The Dragon’s Crest.

This one was his, without conditions or obligations.

—

Dragon’s Crest (Purple Divine Artifact)

An emblem carved from the core of a Chaos Saint Dragon by the Goddess of Dreams. Every thousand years, the accumulated energy within the Crest allows its bearer to ascend their Class Tier to its absolute peak. For example, a Light Knight may become a Saint Knight, while a Dark Knight may become a Death Knight.

Other Effects: Unknown

Status: Currently unusable

—

"This is it," Marcus whispered.

One of the four legendary crests of the Dreamland Continent, exactly as Mare had described. This was the key to his ultimate advancement. The image of himself standing as a Temple Knight, the pinnacle of the Temple Guard path, sent a surge of excitement through his chest.

He carefully stowed the crest away and moved on to the third artifact.

It was a long spear, its shaft bathed in a vivid violet-red glow. Flames rippled along its surface like living things, and the weapon radiated a sharpness that felt capable of piercing the heavens themselves. Unlike a greataxe or warhammer, it lacked any sense of brute brutality. Instead, it felt refined, elegant, and dangerously fast.

This was the Wyvern Flame Spear, the legendary weapon once wielded by Lyanna.

At first glance, Marcus thought it looked better suited to someone who favored speed over power, perhaps even a female player. He typically preferred heavy two-handed weapons that felt solid enough to shatter armor and cleave through defenses with raw force. With his already high Agility, he had always believed a heavier weapon would better complement his Strength. More than once, he had wondered if the dark, crushing weapons of the Demon Clan might suit him best.

"Let’s see what you’re really like," he murmured, reaching out.

The moment his hand closed around the spear, his expectations shattered. The weapon was deceptively heavy, its weight perfectly balanced yet unmistakably real. It had presence. The kind that told him this was not a decorative artifact, but a tool built for annihilation.

Marcus grinned. "Not bad. I misjudged you."

He tightened his grip, preparing to give it a proper test swing and finally check its stats.

That was when the world exploded.

BOOM!

A towering pillar of flame erupted from the spear, roaring upward as fire surged in every direction. The courtyard of the Palace of Mist was instantly flooded with blinding crimson light.

ROAR!

The thunderous cry of a Great Dragon echoed through the hall, shaking the air itself. The spear trembled violently in Marcus’s hands as heat poured off it in waves. Along the shaft, a glowing fire-dragon pattern emerged, no longer than half a meter at first.

Within the inferno, the pattern twisted and writhed, rapidly expanding as if awakened from a long slumber. In the blink of an eye, a six-foot-long flaming dragon had formed, coiling around the spear, its body still growing, its presence overwhelming.

Marcus stood at the heart of the blaze with his eyes wide, and utterly stunned.

"What the hell is this thing doing?"