Striking the Serpent's Heart
Darkness swirled.
It was nothing like the black voids I had seen on a computer screen—this was a sticky, cloying blackness that swallowed the entire chamber of the colossal monster in an instant.
Ominous, nauseating waves of corrupted mana poured from the giant serpent’s body, blotting out my vision and prickling my skin until it burned.
Yet even in the heart of that hell, Duchess Winchester did not so much as blink. She held her stance, cold and unshaken.
Mana always carried a haze, a telltale blur, and she observed it with ruthless calm, waiting for the perfect opening.
Apophis struck first.
—Kyaaaaaaaaaah!!!!
A roar that shook the dungeon itself, and the massive head came hurtling forward. It was like a dump truck charging at full speed; the gaping black maw alone radiated crushing pressure.
The ground beneath her feet erupted with the force of a meteor strike. Earth collapsed, shards of stone flew in every direction, and acrid sand dust billowed upward. But she had never taken her eyes off the enemy. With the barest of movements she slipped aside, dodging the blow with almost casual ease.
Duchess Winchester watched the colossal serpent slide past her with ice-cold eyes and began to chant.
“My resolve is as the heavens themselves. Know the weight this blade carries.”
Heavenly Heavy Sword
A brilliant blue flash cut through the darkness. Mana compressed to its absolute limit erupted from her blade and tore straight through the giant serpent’s scales, splitting flesh beneath.
“Kyaaaaargh!!!”
A scream of pure agony ripped from the monster’s throat. Blood fountained from the ragged wound. Yet even through the pain, the hatred in its eyes never dimmed. The creature twisted its enormous body and lunged at the duchess once more.
“!!”
Her reflexes saved her from the worst of it, but the relentless tide of raw physical blows still exacted a price.
“My left hand…!”
Below her left wrist, there was nothing. The hand that should have been there was simply gone. It had happened right in front of her eyes, and there had been no time to dodge cleanly. She had sacrificed the hand least vital to combat and thrown herself clear.
“No need to worry. With a healing skill, something like this can be restored anytime.”
Even with her wrist torn away, her voice held not a trace of fear.
“I’m more concerned about that thing. The way it feels when I cut it… it’s different from ordinary monsters.”
…She’s incredible.
Even in the middle of all that, she had already realized this was not the real Apophis. To grasp an enemy’s nature after a single exchange—truly astonishing.
She’s right. It’s similar, but not quite the same.
Apophis, the Serpent of Resurrection—an upper-tier monster famed for monstrous vitality and regeneration. This creature wore that form, yet inside it was nothing more than a withered, wretched old man.
Of course, Labyrinthos lived up to his title as King of Labyrinths. He shared power with the dungeon he had created, and his strength rivaled a true Apophis. Still, one critical difference remained.
The core.
His body had been reshaped by the Demon God’s power into that of a monster, and his strength was drawn from the dungeon through a skill he already possessed.
The skill’s name was Dungeon Core.
Exactly as it sounded: he turned his own heart into the dungeon’s center and siphoned its power. As long as he shared strength with the dungeon, his stamina was effectively infinite.
We had to find and destroy either the true core hidden somewhere in the dungeon or the small, hard nucleus inside that massive body.
Finding a dungeon core—or a tiny nucleus buried somewhere in that colossal form—was nearly impossible.
For an ordinary hero, at least.
But that doesn’t apply to me.
The location always varied a little, yet there was a general area. And right now I didn’t even need to search the hard way. I had the best mana detector imaginable riding shotgun.
First pathfinding, now object retrieval? Just what do you take this body for?!
Do I even need to answer? The best partner, obviously.
Don’t just spout whatever nonsense comes to mind!
Beatrix read my thoughts and grumbled, but the situation left her no room to refuse.
Haa… once they called me the Red Dragon King. How did I end up like this?
With her reluctant permission granted, I turned my gaze to the duchess, still locked in fierce combat. She was fighting the fully regenerated Apophis on equal footing.
But she had already been fighting far too long. Exhaustion was catching up fast, while the enemy kept recovering. Unless she could overwhelm it completely, the outcome was already decided.
Apophis opened its enormous jaws and spewed a cloud of poisonous mist. The duchess swiftly put distance between them. I seized the opening and closed in, laying out my plan.
“I have a way to stop that absurd regeneration.”
“Is that true?”
Even after the decent showing I had given, the memory of D-rank Taylor Winchester still lingered in her mind. Surprise flickered across her face.
“Yes. With the power I’ve prepared, I can suppress its recovery.”
It wasn’t a skill, strictly speaking, but it was my ability. No lie there.
“However…”
“However?”
“Even for a moment—just long enough—I need you to pin its movements.”
Finding the core while it moved was easy enough with Beatrix. Destroying it was another matter entirely. To shatter the nucleus I needed that massive body still, even for a heartbeat.
I have to treat this as my only chance.
If I failed once, there was no telling what the creature would do to protect its weakness.
“A simple enough request.”
She spoke as if it were nothing at all.
“How do you intend to proceed?”
“When I close in on it, freeze its body—even for an instant.”
“Understood.”
The poisonous mist thinned. Apophis resumed its physical assault. We shifted positions, and the duchess blurred into high-speed motion once more. Battle resumed.
Beatrix—where’s the core?
Dead center. Midway along the torso. Focus there. Your senses have sharpened enough that you should feel it.
I concentrated on the exact middle of the giant serpent’s body. Something alien began to register.
Thanks. I’ve got it.
Your mental strength is at its limit. Treat the next use of your skill as the last one you’ll get.
The limit of mental strength—meaning the berserk state that came with the skill.
So this really is the final chance.
If I failed now, there would be no way out. I steeled myself and activated the skill.
“I shall become the dragon that swallows the world.”
Dragon Blood
Crimson mana surged through me. Vitality flooded my exhausted body once more.
“Here I go.”
I sprinted toward the thrashing tail. Scales larger than my palm covered it. The moment I stepped onto them the creature sensed me and began thrashing violently in rejection.
—Kyaaaaaah!!!
The massive body heaved. The floor shook as if in an earthquake; the air itself whipped into a frenzy. I lost my balance and tried to drive Gungnir into the tail for purchase, but the scales were so hard the spear tip skidded. I nearly plummeted to the ground.
I caught a scale just in time and hauled myself back up, climbing carefully toward the weak point. Only then did I notice my hand was trembling.
Damn it—of all times!
I had thought my resolve was firm, but the creature’s corrupted mana had already overwhelmed me. The instant I realized I was being crushed by it, a red fury began to boil up from the depths of my heart.
And that fury spoke with Beatrix’s voice.
Will you yield to a mere monster?
I haven’t yielded.
No. You are overwhelmed by its mana, seized by fear. What a pitiful, fragile mind.
I am not weak.
In the end you are nothing but a frail human. Entrust your body to me. I will bring you victory.
Don’t make me laugh. I’ll forge my own victory—get the hell out of my head!!
I roared the words to drive her voice away. At that exact moment a sharp sound like shattering glass rang out, and my vision flipped.
When my senses returned, the first thing I saw was the duchess’s back—covered in wounds.
“Taylor Winchester. You’ve finally come to your senses.”
“What in the world—?”
Before I blacked out she had been fine except for the missing hand. Now she was a mass of injuries. My mind couldn’t catch up.
“I don’t fully understand it myself. You suddenly went berserk and charged straight at the thing.”
Piecing it together, I had burned through every last scrap of mental strength and plunged into the berserk state.
Apophis lay sprawled on the floor, heavily damaged, yet its wounds were already knitting shut. It would be back on its feet any second.
You absolute idiot!
Beatrix’s furious voice slammed into me the moment I sat there trying to process everything.
Hahaha… I’m going to lose my mind. You really are Beatrix, right?
What nonsense are you spouting?! Snap out of it this instant!!
The voice I had heard in the illusion and the voice now were the same—yet different. That difference, somehow, settled the chaos in my chest in an instant.
How long was I out?
About three minutes! If your mother hadn’t stopped you, you would have died right there! How many times have I told you to be careful when using a dragon’s power?!
I’m sorry. Even with ten mouths I wouldn’t have enough excuses.
Her anger kept ringing through my skull. But there was someone else I needed to apologize to as well.
“I am truly sorry. My failure to manage my mental strength has caused Your Grace nothing but trouble.”
The duchess, still painted in blood, simply shook her head.
“Correcting a child’s mistakes is always a parent’s duty.”
“—!”
The unexpected warmth of her words made me lift my head and meet her eyes. In those eyes I had always thought of as cold, I found a faint trace of worry. Something in my chest tightened before I could stop it.
Ridiculous. I’m not even her real son.
I forced the emotion down, steeled myself once more, and faced the duchess squarely.
“—”