Battle of the Sanctuary (4)
The azure-scaled dragon, Oksikirus, found himself at a loss.
More accurately, it wasn’t that he couldn’t understand; it was that he couldn’t accept it.
Dragons, even the lesser ones like him, could see the flow of magic in the air. And so, he saw it more clearly than anyone else.
The human warrior’s presence was so intense that it resonated with the magic around him, twisting the very laws of reality.
“Dragon hunter.”
The words flitted through his mind.
When he first heard tales of mortals hunting dragons, he had scoffed openly.
How could any mortal, unless they were utterly foolish, hunt a dragon?
And yet, more than half of these so-called dragon hunters were not even long-lived elves or dwarves, but short-lived humans.
To Oksikirus, any dragon that could be slain by such a fleeting creature wasn’t worth considering a kin.
That was his belief—until just a few hours ago.
A thunderous crash echoed.
The warrior’s arm blurred, and the steel sword at his waist vanished.
In an instant, the sword left the warrior’s hand, transforming into a streak of light that shot toward Oksikirus like a spear of lightning.
Ordinarily, such a weapon wouldn’t even scratch his scales.
But the flash, accompanied by a deafening roar, was powerful enough to shatter his scales and tear through his hide and the organs beneath.
[――!]
With a short incantation, Oksikirus focused all his magic into his wings.
Magic swirled beneath them, drawing in and expelling the surrounding air in a vortex.
A desperate, acrobatic maneuver to evade the oncoming light.
Boom!
The beam of light grazed his right wing, crashing into the sanctuary’s inner wall and blowing a section of the thick wall away.
[Argh!]
Using magic made his head throb. Oksikirus squinted in pain.
It had been minutes since the warrior’s flame-wreathed fist struck him, yet his injuries showed no sign of healing.
He was a dragon. Wounds that would be fatal to others were mere scratches to him.
The bones and skin of his flame-scorched head had regenerated in an instant. But his brain, strangely, was slow to heal.
It felt as if the residual heat in his head was blocking his blood from regenerating his brain.
Having lost the magic supporting his wings, he had crashed to the ground, continuing a messy fight within the sanctuary of the knights.
[――――!]
He squeezed out his strength, casting spells with difficulty. Spells that once came as easily as breathing now required all his focus.
Blue crystals gathered in the air, firing like cannonballs, while an invisible force swept the area, hindering the warrior’s movements.
The warrior, charging with a holy sword, hesitated for a moment, deflecting the crystal projectiles with his blade.
Crack! Boom!
In the fleeting moment created by the exploding crystals, Oksikirus gathered magic into his heart.
Thump.
His massive heart pulsed. The latent power within it awakened in a wave of magic.
Unlike true dragons, whose every drop of blood held mystical power, a lesser dragon’s heart was the sole source of its mystery.
And the power it held was a unique ability tied to the dragon’s very identity.
Under normal circumstances, Oksikirus would never use the power of his dragon heart against a mere human.
But faced with a life-or-death battle, his old beliefs quickly changed.
He was a dragon.
A being above all mortals.
To be hunted by a mere human, a creature that should be prey, was an affront to his pride as a predator.
[You insignificant mortal!]
A deep hum resonated as the power of his heart awakened, causing the surrounding magic to vibrate.
The dragon’s presence, which could suffocate a mortal’s heart with its mere existence, suddenly dissipated.
Just as the warrior, having shaken off the crystal projectiles, charged with his sword in both hands.
Flash—
Oksikirus’s massive form vanished from sight.
“I’ve won,” he thought.
There could be no other outcome.
His ability to partially phase his form and slip through the folds of space was a power he had possessed since birth.
The mortal’s skill, calling down lightning and thunder with a single sword, was impressive, but—
“It’s just the desperate struggle of a short-lived species. It can’t compare to the power of a dragon’s heart.”
He crossed space to position himself behind the warrior.
The warrior’s sword was cleaving through the space where he had just been.
Oksikirus swung his forepaw lightly.
Lightly, from his perspective, but with enough force to demolish a human fortress.
As he imagined the warrior’s body reduced to a bloody pulp, his snout twitched in anticipation.
Swoosh—
In a flash, the warrior’s sword moved twice as fast, tracing an uncanny path to intercept his forepaw.
[…What?]
Boom!
A thunderous sound erupted as the sword broke the sound barrier, tearing through the scales on his forepaw.
Oksikirus couldn’t hide his shock as he once again leaped through space.
His vertically slit pupils caught the warrior’s grin.
The man muttered softly.
“Already in phase two, huh?”
The dragon’s presence suddenly waned. Its massive form vanished before his eyes.
The surreal sight sent a shiver down his spine, warning of the threat approaching from behind.
Twisting his descending sword path ever so slightly, he doubled its speed to strike the incoming forepaw.
Breaking the sound barrier with sheer strength was something he had achieved long ago, facing the silver-masked apostle Telia.
“But the real challenge starts now.”
In the elongated sense of time, Dalen calmly assessed the situation.
Typically, the battle phases of the azure-scaled dragon Oksikirus were twofold.
The first phase involved bombarding with magic and breath attacks from the air, overwhelming with sheer firepower.
The second phase began when its life force fell below a certain threshold, using the power of its dragon heart to teleport continuously and leave no openings.
Flash.
As he swung his sword, the massive form vanished again.
His senses, extended in all directions, began to search for the dragon’s presence.
His high intelligence allowed him to analyze advantageous positions from the opponent’s perspective.
Swish—
In a fleeting moment, he detected a presence, a sound as faint as a whisper, despite the dragon’s massive body.
Turning toward the subtle noise, like the rustling of thin grass, he saw the enormous tail, covered in blue scales, rushing toward him with the force to demolish a house.
Swoosh—
There was no time to summon his inner strength. The fleeting moment barely allowed him to swing his sword.
Pouring all his might into the swing, the sword once again broke the sound barrier, unleashing a deafening roar.
Crash!
Scales shattered. Skin split. The tough muscle beneath tore, sending a powerful resistance back through his hand.
The brute force traveled up his hand, shoulder, and arm.
He pushed back against the wave of mass, attempting to sever the thick tail.
Flash.
Once again, the dragon’s presence vanished.
“Tch.”
Dalen clicked his tongue.
Even from behind a monitor, he had found Oksikirus’s teleportation ability infuriating.
The attacks came with little warning, exploiting blind spots and leaving him no room to fully utilize his abilities.
And yet, the hard-won counterattacks barely landed.
Before his attacks could fully connect, the dragon would leap through space again.
With a lesser dragon’s regenerative abilities, it could recover from such wounds in mere seconds, akin to a low-tier demon.
“Damn lizard.”
Crunch!
[Argh!]
He muttered as he smashed the incoming maw with his pommel, breaking a tooth the size of a human torso.
[Roar!]
The dragon’s massive form vanished once more.
At least he had managed to seal its spells by pummeling its head with his flame armor.
If the dragon had been able to freely use its specialty crystal spells in this situation, the battle would have clearly turned against him.
Of course, this state couldn’t last forever.
So far, the heat from his flame armor had infiltrated the dragon’s skull, hindering its regeneration, but soon enough, the dragon’s blood would fully exert its healing power.
Once the dragon’s brain healed, it would effortlessly cast spells that posed a real threat to him.
Yet Dalen remained unfazed.
His superhuman senses, extended in all directions, had already detected the presence approaching from afar.
[You insect! Die!]
The dragon, gritting its teeth, squeezed out its strength to complete a spell. Several crystal projectiles gathered above its head.
The spell would explode upon impact, shredding flesh with sharp crystal shards.
The dragon’s intent was clear.
While Dalen dealt with the projectiles, it planned to attack from behind.
Faced with the attack, there was no way to avoid the explosion of the magic bullets. If he tried to block or dodge them, the dragon’s claws would tear him to shreds.
A strategy that forced a choice between two evils.
Seeing the dragon’s yellow eyes, brimming with confidence in its victory, Dalen grinned calmly.
He spoke, “Just in time. Ever tried grilled lizard?”
“I did in my youth. Did you know the tail is particularly tasty?”
A voice, laced with a hint of laughter, echoed. The dragon, Oksikirus, whipped its head around.
There, standing atop the half-ruined wall of the sanctuary behind the dragon, was a figure.
A mortal, yet with an aura that rivaled or even surpassed that of a dragon.
His empty left sleeve fluttered in the wind, and his unfocused gaze surveyed the clearing where Dalen and the dragon stood.
A white sword, burning with a flame even whiter than the blade itself, dripped like sticky oil.
[The Knight Commander…!]
An instinctive fear gripped the dragon’s heart. It knew.
The man before it was the reason demons from the labyrinth dared not cross the rift easily, and even its master, the Azure Dragon, hesitated to confront him.
He was the slayer who had killed three of its blue-scaled kin under the same master over the past two centuries.
“I wouldn’t dream of stealing the honor of a dragonslayer from someone like Dalen. Besides, you’re the one who brought this flying lizard down. I’m just here to make sure it doesn’t escape.”
Edgar, the Knight Commander, smiled. Dalen chuckled.
So, he wasn’t going to steal the experience points, huh?
“I like it.”
With that response, Edgar raised his sword. In the center of his unfocused blue eyes, white flames danced.
The holy tattoos etched densely on his muscular right arm began to glow.
Divine power flowed from his entire body, distorting the magical currents around him.
Sssss—
The liquid-like white flames climbed up the blade extended over his shoulder, reaching toward the sky.
Tiny droplets of flame trickled from the sword’s tip, spreading across the clear spring sky.
The sight, like a slow-motion fountain in a park, was mesmerizing.
And then—
Crack!
The sky fractured.
In that moment, the blue-scaled dragon, Oksikirus, sensed something was amiss.
It could no longer traverse space, nor hide its presence within the spatial rifts.
The power etched into its pounding heart remained, but something blocked it from extending into reality.
[What have you done?!]
The dragon roared. Dalen laughed quietly.
‘As expected of the Knight Commander.’
Edgar Reinhardt.
One of the rare NPCs in this land who could be trusted completely, without fear of being tempted by demons or having his will broken.
This superhuman, who had led the Holy Knights for over two hundred years, had long since established his domain.
A power not in the form of a skill, and thus unattainable by players, based on his own mental image.
One of those powers was now unfolding before them.
‘「Demon-Hunting Confinement Field」’
A technique crafted to prevent wounded demons from escaping through the gates of hell.
It constructed a massive barrier with divine power and mental strength, fundamentally blocking spatial transitions within.
Step.
Dalen strode forward.
A feast laid out before him.
It would be absurd not to devour what had been so carefully prepared and served.
[――!]
Seeing the approaching warrior, the dragon mustered all its strength. With a desperate incantation, it conjured nearly ten crystal spheres, launching them at the enemy.
Dalen neither dodged nor blocked. He simply continued his steady advance.
Swish! Ping—
In that moment.
A dagger, seemingly of its own accord, flew from his waist, tracing a dazzling path and deflecting the magic bullets.
The crystal bullets, deflated like punctured balloons upon contact, vanished.
It was a spectacle created by the B-rank skill, Leredonara’s Flying Blade, and the Moonshadow Spellbreaker, a nemesis to magic.
Crack!
In the blink of an eye, the dagger obliterated the bullets and pierced through the dragon’s wing membrane.
[Roar!]
Momentarily disrupted, the dragon had no choice but to resort to its last measure.
[Melt away, you wretched creature!]
Inside its gaping maw.
A blue energy surged from its throat.
Facing the dragon’s breath, Dalen did not evade this time.
Boom—!
His body launched toward the dragon at near-sonic speed.
Whoosh!
Embracing the breath head-on, Dalen enveloped himself in a fiery armor.
Perhaps it was a warrior’s pride born from his powerful physique that made him face the breath.
Or maybe it was the curiosity about his own limits, a trait common among superhumans.
The habit of an old man who once analyzed and tested every skill and stat from behind a monitor might have lingered, even after crossing worlds.
It didn’t matter.
Whatever the reason, it was unimportant.
What mattered was his resolve to cut through the breath and sever the dragon’s head.
And his determination to ensure that the end facing him would meet the same fate.
Rumble—
A whirlwind began at his shoulder, enveloping the blade, cleaving the dragon’s breath from the front.
The clash of forces unleashed a tremendous physical shockwave, sweeping the surroundings.
[Ugh…!]
The dragon’s head wavered momentarily. The resistance Dalen faced was formidable.
The breath’s impact tore at his skin and muscles, hindering his advance.
Sizzle…
Yet, even as steam rose from his body, he gathered magic at his feet, kicking through the air, driving the whirlwind on his blade more fiercely.
Boom—!
Seconds that felt like hours.
At the end, the holy sword cleaved through the breath, splitting the dragon’s maw from below.
[No, no…!]
As the dragon’s head split in two, it let out a pained roar.
Rumble…
From the storm clouds that had gathered, obscuring the spring sun, a massive bolt of lightning struck.
Flash—!
Following the path carved by the holy sword.
A line of light descended from the sky to the earth.
At the end of the trajectory, like a divine blade drawn from the clouds.
The dragon’s head was severed.