The Old Man and the Sea (5)
Don Salman stepped into the dungeon and slowly scanned his surroundings. It was hard to tell whether the place had been abandoned for a long time or if it had always looked this way, but either way it was in terrible disrepair. Moss and unidentifiable mushrooms sprouted everywhere, while the walls and ceiling were riddled with cracks that threatened to bring the whole structure down at any moment.
“Whew. If this weren’t a dungeon, it would’ve collapsed long ago.”
He clicked his tongue at the precarious-looking structure. Paradoxically, the fact that it was a dungeon meant he didn’t have to worry about it actually falling on him.
“Still, there’s no denying how terrifying it is. I shouldn’t go too deep today.”
He had no idea how complex or how vast the dungeon might be. The only sensible choice was to proceed slowly, lighting his way with care. “Now that I think about it, the old man in the novel was the same. He never rushed.”
It was strange how a book could give someone courage. But then, people were influenced by everything around them, weren’t they? He had felt that truth in his bones while reading the works of the author Prometheus. In fact, that was exactly why he was wandering the land as a knight-errant in his later years. Or perhaps “wandering knight” was the more fitting term.
“It’s awfully quiet, though. Almost as if there are no monsters at all.”
He knew saying something like that often made things appear, but he couldn’t help it. There really wasn’t so much as an ant in sight. He pressed forward, yet still no monsters revealed themselves. After several hours of this, he finally stopped.
“Strange. Very strange.”
He stroked his chin while studying the map he had been drawing. It had taken time, but he had managed to sketch a considerable portion. Based on what he had explored so far, one conclusion was obvious.
“It’s huge. I wonder if one person can map it all.”
He knew that patience was required to catch a truly great fish. Even so, this dungeon was vast beyond reason. And despite wandering for hours, he had yet to see a single monster. He was beginning to suspect the rumors he had heard in the village were nothing but empty tales.
“I should head back for now.”
Deciding to continue the exploration tomorrow, he turned around. From then on, Don Salman traveled back and forth between the base camp and the dungeon, continuing his survey. After several days had passed, he let out a small sigh.
“This is just like the old man in the novel.”
The dungeon was simply too large. It felt like walking an endless road, and he was gradually growing exhausted. Still, he recalled the novel and steeled his heart.
“I can’t give up now that I’ve come this far.”
Today, too, he was exploring the dungeon. He moved quickly through familiar paths and cautiously through new ones.
“Shall I try this direction today?”
It was still unknown territory, but his intuition told him the end was near. At the same time, he had a feeling that something tremendous awaited in the final chamber.
“May the Goddess watch over me.”
He whispered the prayer and pressed onward. Before long, a massive wooden door appeared. It practically screamed “boss room” to anyone who saw it. He gazed up at it, weighing his options—return to base camp, or investigate what lay beyond.
“Each choice has its merits and drawbacks.”
The first option was safer, though it would cost more time. It would allow him to rest and prepare for any unexpected situations. The second would save time but force him to take a risk.
“Hmm… I’ll just take a quick look.”
In the end, he chose to conserve time and step inside. He told himself he would only glance around before leaving. With that, he pushed against the heavy door with all his strength. At first it resisted, but then it began to open smoothly.
“Hoo. Finally, something that actually requires a bit of knightly effort.”
Having had so few chances to use his strength lately, he felt genuine pleasure simply from pushing open a door. Since he couldn’t open it fully, he slipped through the half-open gap.
The chamber inside was spacious, yet not a single torch was set in the walls.
“Every path I’ve taken until now had torches.”
Why was this room the exception? As Don Salman puzzled over it, something caught his eye in the darkness.
“That’s… a beast?”
No—it was a monster. A monster that lay there, sleeping soundly and emitting low growls. It was a wolf-type creature with a black body and spikes growing along its spine. He couldn’t be entirely sure it was wolf-like; the room was dark, and he didn’t know every animal on the continent. Still, it was close enough to a wolf, so he decided to think of it as a mutated wolf-type monster.
“And it’s asleep.”
As he crept closer, he confirmed it was indeed sleeping. He drew his sword from its sheath as silently as possible.
“Normally this would be unacceptable.”
Ambushing a sleeping opponent was not the act of a proper knight. But after days of exhausting exploration and mapping, he was worn down. Had he not been so moved by the old man in The Old Man and the Sea, he would have given up long ago. When an opportunity to end things easily presented itself in a situation like this, ignoring it would be foolish.
“The Goddess will forgive me.”
He closed his eyes in prayer, then raised his sword high and approached. Careful not to wake the monster, he drew close enough that he could almost touch it with his nose. He gripped the hilt tightly and stared straight at the creature’s neck.
“Please forgive me…!”
He brought the blade down with all his might. At that exact moment the monster’s eyes snapped open and met his, but it was already too late to pull back. Instead, he poured Aura into the strike and drove it down even harder.
“Kiiieek!”
“Kgh!”
Blood sprayed from between the sword and the monster’s neck. The creature thrashed wildly, trying to stand.
“Not so fast!”
He pressed down harder, trying to pin it in place, but—
“Ugh!”
The monster planted its legs and shot upright with such force that he was forced to retreat. The moment Don Salman backed away, the creature seemed to lose its nerve; it fled the chamber and began to run.
“Where do you think you’re going!”
He chased after it, but stopped when he saw the trail of blood on the floor. Instead of sprinting after the bloodstains, he took a deep breath and recalled the novel.
On the eighty-fifth day, the old man finally encountered the fish he believed to be the great one. At first the fish seemed to mock him, refusing to take the bait. Yet after patient waiting, it finally bit. The old man pulled on the line with all his strength, but the fish would not rise at all. Left with no choice, he gave the line some slack, and the fish began towing both him and the boat. Fortunately it did not dive, but neither did it surface. Following a habit he had developed somewhere along the way, the old man spoke aloud.
“To be pulled along by a fish. Like a post with a guy rope tied to it.”
The old man could have tied the line to the boat. But doing so would have greatly increased the chance of losing the fish.
“It would snap the line and flee. I must give it slack from time to time and wait for it to tire.”
The old man was grateful the fish did not descend any deeper. Of course he worried it might, but that was not a concern for the present moment. The old man began to wait patiently, holding the line.
Having recalled the scene, Don Salman nodded.
“Yes. Waiting. That is what I have been doing all this time.”
He reminded himself once more of the beauty of patience. He had already wounded the monster’s neck and drawn blood; its death was now only a matter of time. To avoid ruining everything, he chose to remain calm.
“Good. I’ll track it quietly.”
Don Salman lowered his stance and began to follow the monster at a careful pace.
The game of hide-and-seek—or rather, the pursuit—lasted for several days. The dungeon was so vast that every time the monster moved, he had to spend a long time navigating its twisting paths. To make matters worse, it occasionally doubled back through previously explored corridors, making the chase even more difficult.
“Hoo… I’m getting tired. How long has it been since I last slept?”
It had already been three days without sleep. Thanks to his knight training he could endure it, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. Once again he found himself admiring the old man from the novel.
“Well, when has that not been the case?”
Of course, the latter half of the novel had been filled with rather grim scenes. He walked while hoping his own story would not end the same way.
At last he reached the place where the monster had collapsed. Peeking around a corner, he saw it lying there, breathing raggedly.
“So this is where you were.”
He quietly drew his sword. The monster noticed him and struggled to its feet. Though exhausted and wounded, it still radiated killing intent and oppressive pressure.
“You ran at first, but now you want to fight.”
That was fine with him. He, too, was worn out from lack of sleep. Don Salman stepped out from the corner and faced the monster. He leveled his sword with both hands and stared into its eyes.
“Let’s find out who stands above whom.”
Neither could back down now. They watched each other, searching for an opening, until the monster lunged first.
“Krrraaang!”
It charged with a roar. Its massive paw looked ready to swing at any moment, claws poised to tear through his armor.
“Haaap!”
Don Salman, of course, did not stand still. He raised his sword horizontally to block the claws. After a brief contest of strength, he twisted his blade and knocked the paw aside. The now-exposed neck was left defenseless for a single instant.
“Hup!”
He thrust with Aura concentrated on the exact spot he had cut three days earlier. The monster tried to pull back at the last moment, but once again it failed to avoid the blow.
“Kyen! Krrraang!”
The sword sank deep and then withdrew. The thick hide was brutally torn open by the Aura. The monster lowered its head in pain and panted heavily. Seeing the opening, Don Salman struck again.
“Die!”
This time he charged to slash its flank. The moment he kicked off the ground and loaded Aura into his blade, the monster made one final desperate attempt.
“Krrraang!”
It twisted its body to evade the attack and simultaneously lunged forward, jaws wide and fangs bared.
“Damn it!”
It was too late to defend. Dodging was equally impossible. Was he going to die here? Just as a flurry of memories threatened to flash before his eyes, a scene from the novel rose in his mind—the moment the old man delivered his final strike against the great fish.
“Haaaaap! I cannot die here!”
He covered his entire body with Aura. He took the monster’s bite head-on and released the energy outward. The creature biting him was so startled by the sudden burst that it opened its jaws. Don Salman seized that instant to break free.
“Your stance is broken.”
The monster’s posture had collapsed from the shock. Believing this was his final chance, he squeezed out every ounce of strength he possessed. Once more he wrapped both sword and body in Aura and swung with all his might. The horizontal slash tore into the monster’s flank before it could react.
“Kyen!”
That final cry was the monster’s last. The life faded from its eyes as it lay panting, and death claimed it. Don Salman, breathing hard himself by now, watched the scene in silence. When the monster finally stopped moving, he raised his sword high.
“I have won!”
There was no one to witness it, yet he could have sworn he heard applause echoing from all directions. Once more he shouted at the top of his voice.
“I have won!”