Chapter 241
Chapter 241
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 241
Chapter Title: Alibriehe (2)
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“When you get back, tell Ms. Iril.”
“...What?”
Ronan furrowed his brow. What nonsense was this all of a sudden?
The line felt oddly familiar. It was something he'd heard a lot back in his penal legion days. Mostly from the guys next to him when they were thrown into brutal battles where people dropped like flies. Soon enough, realizing what he meant, Ronan spat out a curse.
“If you have any weird ideas, I'll really kill you.”
“There's no choice if we want to break out of this. If you and Asel survive, it'll work out somehow. Let's buy as much time as we can.”
“Fuck, buy time?”
It was so absurd that a hollow laugh escaped him. This idiot was planning to sacrifice himself to save the rest. No matter how dire the situation, it wasn't something to hear from a young punk who hadn't even lived half his life. Schlieffen nodded.
“Yeah. We might hold out for a bit, but taking them all down is impossible. And you know Asel's condition.”
“Th-that's...!”
Asel, hanging off Ronan's shoulder, gasped. In truth, he had almost depleted his mana. To make matters worse, all the mana potions he'd brought had shattered when they collided with Naransonia.
Of course, Ronan knew that. He just hadn't said it outright. Spitting on the floor, he growled roughly.
“Don't get cocky. Figure out how to save your own skin. Say that shit one more time, and I'll crush your nuts.”
Schlieffen didn't reply. Meanwhile, the encirclement was tightening. Perhaps because so many comrades had died, their caution was evident.
A roar presumed to be from a dragon echoed from outside the tower. Damn it, there were more than two? It was around the time the gap had narrowed to about twenty steps.
The twin dragons spoke. Another layer of terror overlaid the faces of the hesitant guards. They seemed the type to mercilessly drive their subordinates. The guards charged with roars.
“Kr, kraaaagh!!”
“Yeah. Come on, then.”
Roars mixed like molten iron echoed. As Ronan gripped his sword hilt, Lamancha's blade flushed crimson. Slash! The moment he swung horizontally, the sword beam sliced through the oncoming crowd.
“Krek!”
“Kugh!”
Splatter! Severed torsos soared into the air. With each repeat of the motion, blood and guts sprayed everywhere.
“A-an order! Don't retreat—subdue the intruders!”
But the guards, once charging, ignored their comrades' deaths. When the front line fell, those behind trampled the corpses and pressed on. Despite the ongoing checks, the gap began to close bit by bit.
“Damn it.”
Ronan clicked his tongue. They were huge, but the numbers were overwhelming. And neither the dragons nor the lycopuses had joined yet—that's when he realized they were screwed.
This is bad. His body was starting to feel heavy. Suddenly, Schlieffen's voice came from beside him.
“Get out of the way.”
“What?”
Come to think of it, this guy had been quiet. Sensing mana surging, Ronan turned.
Schlieffen gripped his sword hilt with both hands, steadying his breath. The blade, not yet transformed into wind, was wrapped in a bluish glow.
“You...”
Ronan's eyes widened. Whooo... A sound like a typhoon on a stormy day pulsed from within the blade. Immense, immeasurable mana was condensed in the metal, waiting to be unleashed.
“Sch-Schlieffen...”
“Hup!”
Asel's eyes bulged. In an instant, Schlieffen's arms vanished from sight. Boom! As the pent-up storm was released, the enemies charging from the front evaporated. The straight-line gale smashed through the opposite wall and out.
“Kwaaaagh!”
“Wh-what is...!”
“H-heugh! M-my legs!”
Screams of shock erupted everywhere. Nothing remained where the wind had passed. A wide path opened in the center of the packed space. Those unlucky enough to be caught in the middle wailed, limbs severed.
One of the twin dragons was among the victims. Clutching his severed left arm, he groaned. Asel covered his mouth with both hands.
“C-cutting a dragon's body!”
It was power worthy of being called a secret technique. But he couldn't just rejoice. Schlieffen's face was ashen, like someone who'd wandered the desert for ten days.
“...It's definitely tiring.”
Schlieffen staggered like he was drunk. It clearly consumed stamina proportional to its power.
“You idiot, what are you trying to do pushing yourself like that...”
Ronan was about to yell something when Schlieffen suddenly turned, grabbed his collar, and yanked. The grip was surprisingly strong for that saintly face. Sticking his face close, he spoke.
“Polish the pocket watch once. It might have blood on it.”
“You...!”
There was no time to retort. Whoosh! Schlieffen threw Ronan toward the collapsed wall. The guards and zealots, cowed by the technique, couldn't catch the flying pair. Asel, clinging to Ronan, went along for the ride.
“Hwaaagh!”
“Oh no!”
“Th-they got away!”
The guards cried out in dismay. By the time they turned, the two were already in the air outside the tower.
“That bastard really...”
Ronan gritted his teeth. The floor they'd been on rapidly receded. Night wind roared past his ears. Glancing up, he saw five or six dragons circling in formation.
That fool had gone and done it. Battle resuming, noisy sounds came from the floor they'd left. Crash! Slash! Schlieffen's signature wind slashes tore through the air.
‘Calm down.’
Ronan took a deep breath. His boiling head cooled a bit. The dice were cast; he needed a clear-headed response.
Schlieffen probably wouldn't last long. As the Empire's Rising Star, he'd buy time, but handling that many was impossible. Would he die? Suddenly, one twin dragon's words flashed in his mind.
‘Capture alive.’
Capture alive if possible. That's what they'd said. It might not be true, but he had to act on it now. Otherwise, Schlieffen's efforts would be for nothing.
“Hoo.”
Having decided, Ronan exhaled. The blurred surroundings sharpened. First in view was Asel, screaming around his neck.
“Hwaaagh! Kraaagh!!”
Next, a massive lake poured over his head. Reflecting the tower and night sky perfectly, it was village-sized. Ronan said.
“Asel. Can you use magic?”
“Kwaaagh! S-sorry. Almost no mana left...!”
“Almost means a little, right?”
Thinking of something, Ronan swung his sword at the tower. Boom! The wind slash hit the wall, exploding. He pointed at falling debris above.
“Asel, no need for anything else. Just match our speed with those debris.”
“Wh-what?”
“Gotta hide our position, right? Hurry.”
Ronan urged. Someone was surely watching; one water pillar would give them away.
“Ah...!”
Understanding, Asel's eyes widened. Not sure if it'd fool them, but they had to try. Scraping his last mana, he shouted desperately.
“I-Invisible Hand!”
The familiar incantation rang out. Invisible hands gripped them. Fall speed slowed briefly. Splash! Ronan hugged Asel as they hit the lake.
Splash splash splash! Debris hit almost simultaneously, sending hundreds of water pillars up. Guards pursuing from other floors halted in confusion.
“What? What happened?!”
“They fell? Damn, can't tell now...!”
The guards watching the lake clicked their tongues. They wanted to blast it with lightning, but it was one of the dragons' treasure storage spots.
“Ugh...!”
Ronan, sinking like a stone, opened his eyes. Cold water enveloped him. Rippling light danced around the distant surface.
‘We survived.’
Fortunately, slowed speed prevented fatal impact. Deeper and wider than imagined, the lake felt like the ocean. Asel, in his arms, bubbled.
“Blub blub!”
Thrashing, but seemed healthy. Sighing in relief, Ronan swam.
Land in the least populated spot. As he ascended quickly, Asel suddenly thrashed violently, like a seizure.
“Mmmph! Guh!”
What's this? Sensing oddity, Ronan looked down. He froze. Something huge moved in the pitch-black depths.
‘What...!’
Ronan's eyes widened. Identifying it didn't take long. A black dragon approached rapidly. Surface same color as night sky, invisible from above.
‘Fuck!’
Sensing danger, Ronan sped up. Wings indicated not Orse. Not that it mattered now.
‘Why the hell is that under the lake...!’
Ronan paddled desperately. But dragon swimming outpaced humans. Gap nearly closed when...
Telepathy echoed in Ronan's head. He hesitated, turning.
‘What?’
A parched voice, like a drought-stricken reservoir. Felt familiar, but couldn't place it. It came again.
Bewildered words. Wanted to argue, but underwater. As he hesitated near the surface, gulp! The accelerating black dragon swallowed them in a flash.
****
“Ugh...”
Ronan opened his eyes. Vision foggy like mist. Musty smell assaulted his nose.
Water flowed nearby. He slowly sat up. Remembered encountering the black dragon under the lake, but not after.
“...Where is this?”
Vision clearing, surroundings appeared. Vast cave-like, walls and floor smoothly polished.
Bonfire crackled beside where he'd lain. Arched ceiling loomed impossibly high. Recalling Asel, Ronan urgently scanned.
“Damn, Asel.”
Fortunately, Asel was nearby, by the fire. Checking, he was breathing.
Worrying punk. Sighing, Ronan sat.
Clothes somewhat dry, so out quite a while. Looking around, he muttered blankly.
“...Where the hell are we?”
“The sewer.”
“What.”
Reply from behind. Ronan whipped around. An old man stood arms crossed, looking down.
“Precisely, the sewer of the dragon city Adren. You won't find anything like it anywhere on the continent.”
“You...!”
Familiar face widened Ronan's eyes. The tavern owner who'd drunk with Orse. Sleeves rolled up revealed a metal prosthetic arm. Ronan asked.
“Did you save us?”
“You could say that. You've been on my mind since the tavern. Heard the Dragon King's threat, checked just in case—and sure enough, you fell into the lake.”
“Wait, the lake? Then you...”
“Yeah. A dragon.”
The old man nodded calmly, as if questioning the obvious. He admitted being the black dragon that swallowed them.
Stunned, Ronan chuckled hollowly. Hadn't noticed at all this time. Better at hiding presence than Orse.
“Surprised, huh.”
“No kidding. Didn't I say black dragons are good at disguise?”
Couldn't figure the old coot. Approaching, he squatted, scrutinizing Ronan's face.
“You really look alike. Too alike.”
“Alike who?”
“Hard to name one. You resemble both the one I respect most and hate most. Not from the cult, at least...”
The old man trailed off. Hearing “cult,” Ronan raised a brow. A dragon image flashed in his mind.
Black dragon, prosthetic replacing left hand. Pieces connected. Ronan's mouth slowly opened.
“...Alibriehe?”
“So you know my name.”
The old man sighed deeply. Now visible, faint mana leaked from his shoulder. Fiddling with the prosthetic, he spoke.
“So, who are you? Here to ruin my first and last vacation?”