The Savage Lands of Greenfall
The clash of the crimson wave and the gray wave was over in an instant.
Though the gray orcs were driven into numerical disadvantage, the knight-orc at their head began carving a path with overwhelming martial might.
Just as the red orcs seemed about to crumble beneath that tremendous presence, a red-skinned shaman-orc watching the battle from afar opened a thick tome.
Ominous mana surged and spilled from its pages—there was no mistaking it for anything but a grimoire.
"Tsoga!"
The moment the chant left the shaman-orc’s lips, the ominous mana blanketing the battlefield stirred.
It swept across the blood-soaked earth like a breaking wave, and pure-white skeleton troops began to take form.
Hundreds of skeletons, summoned by a single spell.
I could feel the gray orcs’ confusion at the sudden new enemy.
The knight-orc swung his lightning-wreathed blade and cut them down, yet even he could not handle numbers like these alone.
Bolstered by the skeletons, the red orcs seized the momentum and began driving the gray orcs back.
Crimson blood rose like a murky mist over the field, and behind that veil screams and war-cries erupted without end.
Just when it seemed the gray orcs would be forced into full retreat, fresh orcs poured out from within the city of Greenfall.
Among them was a face I knew.
"Waaaaaah!"
Agul burst forth mixed among the orcs, massive battleaxe in hand, roaring at the top of his lungs.
He was not alone. A handful of human adventurers ran with them, throwing themselves into the war.
In their eyes burned only the pure, desperate will to live.
Watching them, I had no choice but to spur Nightmare and charge out of the city.
If I stayed put, they would all be wiped out. Lending even my meager strength to turn this war toward victory was the only path that kept me alive.
Kiiing—!
Atop Nightmare’s racing form I spun my Mana Circles. Rest had restored my body, and the mana that had run dry was full once more.
Starlight mana cloaked the sword in my right hand; with my left I scattered bolts of blue lightning.
Kwa-rung—!
The lightning that streaked toward the red orcs chained outward in every direction.
Close combat was too dangerous now. I kept to the outer edges, raining down lightning and cutting down the occasional orc that charged me alone.
The stench of blood blanketing the field was thick enough to numb the senses, and the dust kicked up by countless feet mixed with spilled orc blood until vision itself turned hazy.
"Haaaaah!"
Kill or be killed. Holding only that simple thought in my mind, I swung my blade with mechanical precision.
Even when crimson blood painted my face I felt nothing; my emotions were already growing dull.
As time dragged on my body grew heavy. The stars I drew against my enemies lost their light, and the keen edge within them dulled.
Purruk—!
Nightmare, too, was tiring. Smooth hide now bore wounds large and small; the once-glossy mane was matted and filthy with clotted blood.
I gasped for breath and swept my gaze across the battlefield. At the first clash the end of the war had been nowhere in sight; now, at last, it seemed within reach.
The endless tide of pure-white skeletons had vanished, and that alone had let the gray orcs push the red ones back hard.
Just as I let out a breath of relief, a great peal of laughter rolled from far away.
The laughter belonged to the red-skinned shaman-orc.
Somehow he had climbed atop Greenfall’s main gate and now stood with both arms raised high.
His robe flapped as though caught in a violent storm; the staff in his right hand scattered ominous light.
And last of all, the grimoire in his left hand floated free, its pages turning of their own accord.
"Ts-oga!!! Drako-ne!!!"
While I stared blankly at the shaman-orc, he slammed his staff down upon the enormous skull that adorned the city gate.
Kuuung—!
A vast resonance rolled out, and the ominous mana blanketing the battlefield began to move.
As though every scrap of mana in this world were being drawn to a single point, all the mana of the region streamed toward the shaman-orc’s staff.
Gogogogo—
The instant the gathered ominous mana made the very air tremble, fire kindled in the two eye-sockets of the great skull on the gate.
Those burning eyes were steeped in pure malice.
The moment the dragon’s skull ignited, pure-white bones came flying from every direction.
Unlike a true dragon’s complete skeleton, what began to assemble beneath it were the large and small bones of monsters easily found in these parts—and the bones of orcs slain in the war.
Jjeojeojeok—!
Dozens of kinds of bone tangled together and at once became the dragon’s massive neck, stretching downward.
The pure-white bone dragon took shape in the blink of an eye. From the hanging neck to the spine, from the spine to the tail.
The moment arms and legs finished forming, gaunt wing-bones unfurled from its back.
At the same time Greenfall began to collapse. Its heavy legs crushed buildings; its long tail swept the rubble aside like a wave.
A roar thick with the unique fear of a monster.
Though its resurrection was unstable, the creature still wrapped the world in the vast terror of a dragon.
I could think of nothing.
Friend and foe alike sank to their knees as if their legs had given out.
Nightmare and I were no different.
The horse that had always stood firm now hung its head, breathing hard in pure terror.
Yet one figure remained upright even beneath that overwhelming dragon-fear.
The full-plate-clad orc knight.
Lightning still coiled around the sword in his hand as he looked upon his city.
Hot heat shimmered above his gray skin. Flushed with battle-fury, he slowly rolled the swollen muscles of his upper body and leveled his blade at the bone dragon.
Then he roared.
"Whoa!"
A rough cry that seemed to shake the brain itself.
The instant that roar stabbed my ears, I broke free of the dragon-fear.
I was not the only one who benefited. Everyone within a certain radius of him began to rise.
In that moment the bone dragon and the orc knight charged each other.
Even with its gaunt wings spread the bone dragon could not fly—proof that its resurrection was incomplete.
Bone fragments even rattled free with every step it took.
The shaman-orc roared roughly from atop the bone dragon’s skull.
He used no other techniques; every scrap of his power was clearly spent simply controlling that colossal bone dragon.
I rose, mounted Nightmare, and rode. Though the enemy’s size was despairingly vast, its unstable state made me judge it worth the attempt.
Hundreds of orcs seemed to share the same thought; they charged the bone dragon as one.
Among them was Agul, massive axe still in hand.
The first to clash with the bone dragon was the orc knight.
He swung his storm-wreathed blade and leapt for the creature’s head.
Legs swollen to bursting launched him high, yet the bone dragon’s head was higher still; the sword never reached it.
Kagagak—!
The orc knight’s strike shattered the bone dragon’s ribs instead.
The moment the blade touched, a storm erupted and pure-white bone fragments scattered in every direction.
The bone dragon ignored its collapsing ribs and swept a foreleg.
Already dead, it seemed to feel no pain at all.
Kugugugu—!
The foreleg that plowed the earth and smashed into the orcs crushed dozens at once.
Yet the orcs did not stop. Following their leader who swung his sword at the front, they hurled their own bodies forward.
Greatswords, axes, and iron hammers hammered the bone dragon’s frame. Had it been resurrected from a complete dragon skeleton it might have been different, but a body pieced together from common local bones began to crack under the assault.
Puk! Paak!
Still, the orcs’ attacks were pitifully weak. Aside from the orc knight, few could truly break the bone dragon’s body.
When the bone dragon’s leg moved again, dozens more orcs were swept away.
I put distance between us on Nightmare.
Chain Lightning or Magic Missile could never shatter those enormous bones.
My swordsmanship was no different.
What was needed now was a single, overwhelmingly powerful blow.
The instant I recognized that truth, my Mana Circles began to spin at furious speed.
Icy starlight into the left hand, blazing flame into the right.
The moment the two opposing forces took clear shape, I drew both hands together.
Kugwagagak—!
When the palms met head-on, the opposing forces shoved against each other and birthed a violent storm.
Sensing the flow of mana, the shaman-orc fixed his gaze on me.
The instant those eyes locked, the bone dragon’s massive tail cracked like a whip.
Kwaaang—!
An attack that looked ready to grind everything in its path to dust—yet Nightmare raced forward and leapt clear over it.
Nightmare never slowed. With every ounce of strength it drove its hooves into the earth and carried me to the perfect position.
When the mana I could gather reached its limit, I thrust both hands toward the shaman-orc.
Kwaaaaang!
The two streams of mana that burst from my palms mixed and poured forth as a raging storm.
"Ugh...!"
My exhausted body could never withstand the backlash.
The moment the storm’s recoil exploded, Nightmare and I were slammed into the ground.
Yet my eyes never left the bone dragon.
The flying storm crushed everything in its path and kept going.
The bone dragon’s right wing-bone was sucked into the gale and crumpled; its right foreleg followed.
Massive bones were ground to powder; pure-white fragments scattered into the sky.
Only then did the storm that had greedily swallowed bone finally disperse.
I frowned and bit my lip.
I had poured out every scrap of mana and torn away one of the bone dragon’s arms and a wing—yet the attack had never reached the shaman-orc I had first aimed for.
The shaman-orc’s hardened gaze settled on me.
His lips moved; incomprehensible words spilled out, and the bone dragon’s ruined body began to regenerate.
Despair was just flooding through me when the orc knight leapt without a sound and swung his blade.
The strike was like the stillness that comes before a storm; the lightning-wreathed sword brushed the shaman-orc’s body, and a colossal peal of thunder erupted.
Kwa-rrrrung!
The body of the shaman—suspected mastermind of it all—split apart and tumbled to the ground.
The mana that had coiled around him began to scatter; death was certain.
Yet no cheers of victory rose.
"Ha..."
I let out a dazed sigh.
The shaman-orc’s body, which had fallen dead to the earth, was rising into the air once more.
Only the severed left half—the half that still clutched the grimoire.
I frowned and looked at the orc knight. He was on one knee, breathing hard.
The light had vanished from the lightning-wreathed sword; that single blow had clearly spent every last scrap of his power.
I could not count on another strike from him.
Then my eyes fell on the objects scattered across the ground.
Past a pouch of jerky, my gaze landed on a pile of storybooks.
When I fell, everything inside my bag had spilled out in a heap.
I stretched a hand toward the object half-buried among the books.
Jeolgeureok—
The moment the chill of iron chains wrapped my fingers, a grimoire that radiated ominous mana rose from the pile.
It flew straight toward me; its pages flipped at blinding speed.
Parrruk—
The passage that stopped before my eyes showed a familiar phrase.
Had it asked me once if I needed power?
I recalled the old memory and smiled faintly.
This was precisely the moment I needed power.
I feared the price I would owe the grimoire’s master—yet nothing could be more terrible than death.
"Scathia."
The instant I spoke the name, a bizarre form appeared above the grimoire.
Neither human nor beast—something utterly strange.
"If I do...?"
"And the price?"
Light kindled in the beast’s eyes; its mouth opened.
The northernmost end—the land of the dead known as the Grimshade Kingdom.
The moment I gave a slight nod, ominous mana began to pour into my body through the grimoire.
The murky violet mana was bitterly cold and repulsive.
Yet for now it was enough. I began to shape a single spell from the ominous mana flooding into me.
Mana overflowed. What I needed was a large-scale magic of overwhelming destructive power and vast range.
A tiny star rose above my inner world. It drank in the wicked mana and took on a turbid glow.
A spell that borrowed the power of a demon king—no magic could suit this moment better.
"O one darker than twilight, redder than the flow of blood..."
I muttered the words under my breath and forced myself to my feet. Violet mana spread through my entire body, flooding my exhausted limbs with fresh vitality.
"Here and now I swear upon the darkness..."
As the form of the chant took shape, a magic system that had never existed in this world revealed itself, and a violent storm began to rage.
The shaman-orc still clutching the grimoire moved his lips and drove the bone dragon forward.
Yet the chant spilling from my own mouth was already racing toward its climax.
"That you and I together shall bring forth great ruin..."
⟨ Dragon-Slaying Cataclysm ⟩
Completing the final stage of the chant, I stretched out my hand—and the magic forged to annihilate a dragon manifested right here, right now.
The mana that burst from my palm blanketed the entire region.
Kwaaaaang—!