Tamed Catastrophe (1)
“Ugh… Deputy Inquisitor…”
At the entrance to the realm of Cheongrin, near a docked sailing ship, an impromptu campsite had been set up. On the outskirts of the camp, where the flickering light of the campfire barely reached, Inquisitor Fidna was sobbing over the severed head of the Deputy Inquisitor.
Her own condition was far from good. Her left arm was shredded below the elbow, and half her face was frozen with frostbite. It was only thanks to healing prayers and regeneration potions that she had managed to treat numerous cuts and bruises.
After losing consciousness in the initial clash, she had been buried under the debris of a collapsed valley during the ensuing battle, suffering significant injuries.
”…Sigh.”
Watching the grieving inquisitor from a distance, Maug let out a deep, bitter sigh. He poked at the campfire absentmindedly before speaking.
“Is the Elder Mage alright?”
“He won’t die. When he’ll regain consciousness, though, is anyone’s guess.”
“I see. And his apprentice…?”
“Just fell asleep while tending to the old man.”
“That’s a relief.”
Maug murmured, turning his gaze back to the camp’s perimeter. Including Dalen and the two mages, eight had set out from the fortress of Estra. Only five survived.
The Deputy Inquisitor had been killed by the dragon’s first strike, and two more had perished in the battles that followed.
“A paladin must always be prepared for death, whether it’s their own or that of a cherished comrade,” the senior paladin said, looking at the bodies covered with white cloth, his expression somber. “Yet, the void left by a fallen comrade becomes strangely more painful with age.”
Dalen chewed on a sausage in silence. Sometimes, silence was the best way to empathize. He glanced up at the sky. The night of the rift had come quickly. Though it felt like only hours since the battle ended, the Milky Way was already scattering its shimmering lights across the sky.
“Get some rest. I’ll keep watch over Inquisitor Fidna,” Maug offered. Dalen shook his head.
“Sleep eludes me. Rest when you can.”
“Are you sure you’re alright after fighting the dragon?”
“My blood’s still boiling.”
Dalen chuckled softly, skewering a few more sausages by the fire. He had no intention of sleeping until he finished them. Maug tried to stay awake with him but soon succumbed to exhaustion. Even for a senior paladin, the past ten days had been a grueling journey.
After laying the unconscious Fidna gently by the fire, Dalen sliced some hard bread and chewed it with thinly sliced ham. Suddenly, he spoke.
“Hey.”
[…Yes, master?]
“Do you really not remember your past?”
The immortal demon, Arbor, paused before replying.
[My first clear memory begins in the cauldron of Enaxagus. Lately, I’ve started to realize there might be a life before that, but it’s just a jumble of scenes, like holes in cheese.]
“What do you remember?”
[A fertile land bathed in light. Someone planting a sapling. Branches and vines spreading. And… a journey.]
“A journey?”
[I traveled to many places. But they’re all hazy memories.]
There was a hint of sadness in Arbor’s voice. Dalen nodded. Though he used Arbor as a sort of pocket dimension or portable burner, he was always aware of the demon’s hidden past. Even the knight commander knew of Arbor’s existence, and there seemed to be direct ties to the Sandstorm Dynasty and Cheongrin.
Perhaps Arbor’s ability to devour curses was also linked to his past. But for now, it was a mystery to be set aside, with more pressing matters at hand.
‘I need to reconsider this body of mine first.’
Dalen opened his status window.
――――――――
Name: Dalen
Level: 19
[Strength: 34] [Dexterity: 28] [Stamina: 31]
[Senses: 24] [Intelligence: 26] [Magic: 26]
Skills: Dehama’s Armored Combat (D), Night Vision (E), Leap (E), Flame Arrow (D), Lapantella’s Crushing Sword (C), Hegaleus’s Flame Rain (C), Piercing Lightning (D), Curse Ward’s Seal (D), Leredonara’s Secret Sword (B), Sacred Flame’s Ember (C), Crimson Dragon’s Blood (A)
――――――――
After the battle with Cheongrin, his status window had changed significantly. Level 20 was just around the corner. He allocated his level-up points to stamina and magic.
Most notably, the skill ‘Crimson Dragon’s Blood’ had appeared at the end of his skill list. It was the result of maxing out the regenerative factor of dragon blood and reaching a stamina stat of 30 long before.
Dalen’s domain had intertwined two potentialities into one, manifesting the traits of a transcendent being as a skill. Like when he first established his domain, his awakening had boosted all his stats by two.
‘My strength and stamina decreased when I made Felber my vassal, and I lost two skills.’
But reviving a grand mage and gaining a permanent ally was a sacrifice worth making.
‘An A-rank skill… it’s certainly powerful.’
Focusing on the dragon’s blood coursing through his veins, Dalen pondered. Before acquiring the dragon’s blood, his body had been deteriorating. The immense power of his domain was too much for a mortal body to handle, causing it to wear down with each use.
Despite his superhuman physical abilities, the limitations of a mortal body were a significant constraint.
‘Since obtaining the dragon’s blood, that pressure has almost vanished.’
Calming his breath, Dalen delved deeper into his inner self.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pulsed steadily, not too loudly. With each beat, a heavy warmth spread through his body.
Since acquiring the dragon blood, Dalen’s body had transformed completely. It wasn’t just about increased stats. The regenerative factor no longer demanded immense stamina, and the mystical vessel in his veins could easily contain the power of his domain, which a mortal body couldn’t handle.
Unless he gained even greater power in the distant future, there were no immediate issues. Even if his skills doubled, it might not be a problem.
However, great power often comes with a great price. The dragon’s blood presented another issue.
‘It’s not easy to control.’
Fwoosh.
A dark crimson flame flickered in his palm. The sausage he was about to eat turned to ash in an instant.
”…”
Dalen opened his water pouch and washed the ash from his hands. This unintended ignition had happened over ten times in just half a day. His eyes occasionally changed shape, and his breath heated up, which was manageable. But the spontaneous eruptions of flame, trying to form dragon wings or claws, had already turned his clothes and nearby items to ash a few times.
Being in a remote valley of the rift was fortunate. If this had happened in the bustling bronze streets of Falcion, it would have been a disaster.
‘I would’ve had a serious talk with the Silent Captain.’
Thinking of the upright yet rigid warrior, Gawain, Dalen chuckled. In any case, after half a day of introspection, Dalen instinctively knew this issue wasn’t just about a change in appearance.
‘It’s the first time a skill has had its own will.’
A willful power. That was the crux of the problem. Until now, Dalen’s skills were like tools. They varied in difficulty to wield, but they were tools without will, left to the master’s hand.
However, the Crimson Dragon’s Blood contained the will of a transcendent being. Presumably, the will of the crimson dragon, whose existence Dalen only knew from lore.
‘The Spear of the Dragon God, the Nameless Dragon.’
It never appeared until the final stages of the apocalypse, so he never saw it firsthand. But considering the epithets given to dragons, if it was a true dragon directly related to the Dragon God, it was likely as strong as or stronger than Cheongrin. And that was assuming Cheongrin was at full strength, without any injuries or curses.
“Tsk.”
Dalen clicked his tongue. He popped the last sausage into his mouth and stood up. There was someone who might solve this problem. But speaking to that entity involved considerable risk. It wasn’t a problem he could solve by worrying about it now.
Dalen retrieved more bread and sausages from a pile of supplies. The preserved food slowly absorbed the warmth of the fire.
The sky was full of stars, and the night was just the right length.
The next day.
At dawn, the Estra River was filled with sailing ships carrying reinforcements from the knight order. Even Dalen was slightly surprised by the sight.
As the large encampment was being set up, Dalen received a detailed account of recent events from a familiar face who had arrived with the reinforcements.
“The entire order was thrown into chaos when we heard the defensive line was under attack.”
It was Lucia, a future hero known as the Demon Slayer, a full-fledged knight and inquisitor of the Holy Order. Her golden hair was the same, but something about her had changed in the two weeks since Dalen had last seen her. She seemed to have grown significantly, her presence more commanding, likely due to the insights she had gained on their journey from the labyrinth city.
“The aftermath of the vice-commander’s rebellion wasn’t something that could be easily quelled. The news of Estra Fortress, our first line of defense, falling was like pouring water on boiling oil.”
“I can imagine. So how did you manage to bring in hundreds of reinforcements?”
“Thanks to Commander Edgar.”
Amidst the chaos that had engulfed the order, Commander Edgar had shown remarkable ingenuity. He had cleverly linked the vice-commander’s rebellion with the invasion by the Azure Scales, presenting it as a sinister plot to destabilize the order.
“It wasn’t entirely untrue. There was indeed a secret pact between the Azure Scales and Everlock.”
”…”
The sequence of events was a bit off, though. The Azure Scales hadn’t anticipated Everlock’s defeat by an unexpected northern warrior, nor that the sacred sword and the key to the rift barrier would end up in their hands.
Nevertheless, amidst the internal strife and external threats, Edgar had successfully redirected the order’s focus onto an external enemy. Known as the “Old Fox” of the order, Edgar had maintained his position as the leader of the Holy Order for over a century for good reason.
Upon learning of Estra Fortress’s fall, the order had immediately dispatched a large force into the rift. Edgar, leading the troops himself, had dedicated seventy percent of them to restoring the fortress. Meanwhile, he ordered the remaining thirty percent to cross the Estra River in search of Dalen and his companions.
“It must have been the seer’s ability at work.”
It was only natural. No matter how strategic Edgar was, he wouldn’t have sent nearly a thousand troops into the dragon’s territory without knowing the Azure Scales were defeated.
For Dalen and his companions, who had just survived a fierce battle, it was a stroke of luck. At the temporary camp set up by the order at the entrance to the dragon’s domain, the survivors could receive more than just basic field treatment—they could rest and recover properly.
“It’s time to go.”
Creak.
Dalen stood up. Lucia, who had been chattering about everything that had happened, looked up at him with surprise.
“Where are you going?”
“The Dragon’s Lair.”
Dalen checked his gear. The sacred sword at his left hip, the axe and spell-slayer on the other side. He had received a new set of armor from the reinforcements, and his spatial pouch was stocked with Lucia’s special dragon tail jerky.
“Already? You’re not fully recovered yet.”
“I’m well enough. It’s urgent.”
Lucia looked like she wanted to say more. Dalen chuckled softly. He could guess what she was thinking—she probably wanted to accompany him.
“I’ll be back soon. Stay here and look after the old man.”
”…Understood.”
Her voice was slightly subdued. Dalen chuckled again and left the tent.
Though it hadn’t happened naturally as in the game, the Azure Scales had met their fate and perished. From now on, the future would likely unfold in a way similar to what Dalen knew.
And the future he knew was filled with pivotal moments of impending doom. To prevent the continent from racing toward destruction, he had to act quickly.
“Take care of the young one for me.”
As he mounted his horse, Felber’s dying words echoed in his mind. The elder mage, miraculously revived but still unconscious, had left a prophecy by peering beyond the timeline.
“I know it’s a difficult task, but it’s my last request.”
”…Tsk.”
Dalen clicked his tongue. How much of his life had Felber’s great magic glimpsed? It was hard not to be unnerved by a prophecy that seemed to have spied on his past experiences.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dalen spurred his horse forward. He had no intention of being swayed by a seer’s words. Yet, he couldn’t simply ignore the dying wish of someone who had sacrificed their life for him.
To decide his course of action, he first needed to confront the subject of the prophecy at the Dragon’s Lair. A looming catastrophe that would soon turn the southwestern continent into a hellscape—the legendary dragon known as the “Breath that Froze the Kingdom.”