Sparring with the Immortal Slayer
The activation of a Narrative Imprint grows more potent the closer the circumstances mirror those in which it was obtained. And that applied to the new imprint I'd just acquired as well.
He plunged a dagger into the heart of the one who ruled the abyss's flames, devouring the immortal's blood amid a cascade of lethal strikes. He is the reaper of death who granted rest to the undying.
On the surface, it sounded like utter nonsense. But surprisingly, the activation conditions for the Narrative Imprint — Dragon were straightforward.
1. Fight an enemy overwhelmingly stronger than yourself.
2. Battle someone with an immortality trait.
3. Engage a dragonkin.
4. Fight an opponent at least five times your size.
Even satisfying just one of these would trigger it, and blending with Ascalon's traits made overlapping conditions amplify the power further. It was cheat-level performance, no question. Of course, acquiring it was hellish in equal measure.
To gauge how much this boosted my strength, I needed a spar. Against someone overwhelmingly stronger than me, naturally.
And the one I chose was...
"A spar, you say?"
Parnello Ramichi, one of the Calione family's top forces, arrived instantly at the press of the room's call bell.
"Yeah. I picked up some stuff on the Jeju Island trip, and you were the first who came to mind... Think you could help?"
Nicely put, sure. Bluntly? 'I've got something I need to hit with killing intent to test, and you're the only one around I can go all-out against without issue. Let's throw down.'
But to Parnello—who'd trained me since childhood and recently helped with heir lessons—the words rang differently.
'I need you, Parnello~ Help me out, Parnel-mong~'
And sure enough.
"If it's a request from Young Master, of course I'll assist. Shall I escort you to the training hall?"
He nodded eagerly, gaze full of pride.
"Yeah, thanks."
Parnello headed to the training hall with an even lighter step than usual.
...Did I pick the wrong guy? Am I gonna die for real? Should I ask him to go easy even now?
Why's he looking at me like that?
Knowing Parnello's true power firsthand filled me with pure terror. He wouldn't actually kill me, of course... but.
'Young Master, you can't wince like that.'
'It hurts me more to strike you.'
'You asked to get strong fast. This is day three my handkerchief's soaked with tears. Pardon? With your blood? ...A misunderstanding.'
Our past training memories weren't exactly cheerful.
"Then let's warm up lightly and begin."
As he walked to the opposite side and unclasped his watch, he flashed a grin.
"P-Parnello. If possible, go ea—"
"Attacks with clear killing intent? Understood, Young Master."
"No—"
Parnello vanished from sight, and my body hair stood on end. I raised my left arm into a guard. He reappeared in an instant, fist thrusting at me—but it met my arm.
"That was a serious punch, yet you blocked it well now."
"Felt like I'd die if I didn't...!"
"Nonsense. Young Master wouldn't falter at a punch like th—"
A sharp kick followed.
——Kreeeeang.
The air-splitting whoosh targeted my head, slamming into my arm again. The shock rattled my brain, legs nearly buckling. I held firm through sheer will, reaching for Parnello.
"Enduring that too? Impressive this time."
"You ain't seen nothing yet!"
I grabbed his tie and yanked with all my strength.
But.
"You'll need more muscle for that."
Parnello withstood it with neck strength alone, smiling.
"Was this your plan?!"
Bam!
Darkness exploded before my eyes. Sparks flew like fireworks, but the blood scent from my philtrum made me grin back at him.
"Bingo."
A torrent of power crashed through me. Channeling natural healing to restore my vision, I wrapped my arm around Parnello's neck and kneed his gut.
It felt like striking steel, but his body bent backward. The attack landed.
But he gripped my side, crushing pain like flesh tearing forcing me to release him.
"A ring that devours blood. Is that why you went to Jeju?"
Parnello leaped back, eyes wide with surprise.
"Among other things. Among other things."
Despite countless spars, I'd never landed a clean hit on him before. This felt like a massive breakthrough—against Parnello, no less.
"Mind if I use weapons now?"
Against Parnello, I had to go all-out with killing intent just to graze him.
"I'd be honored."
As I drew Midas's gloves and the shotgun, he spread his arms wide, inviting me.
"Then I won't hold back..."
Parnello hadn't seen the shotgun yet. He eyed my aimed barrel with casual ease, so I smiled.
"Grandpa shot Dad with this one, apparently."
"...Pardon?"
"Dad said it hurt like hell."
"Wait, hold on—"
"Wonder if it'll hurt you too?"
Boom! Boom!
Two quick triggers. Sensing danger, Parnello rolled aside, dodging the slugs. He glanced at the cratered floor where he'd stood, chuckling in disbelief.
"The training hall floor, unscratched by most attacks, pitted like that. Vicious weapon."
"And badass."
I broke the shotgun, loaded aura shells, aimed again, and fired.
But the ground erupted.
Kagagagak!
A scraping sound, and crimson sparks flew before Parnello, now inches away.
"Even I'd feel that head-on."
"You narrowed the spread and deflected slugs—with a knife?"
An average Awakener would've been shredded. Tongue-tied, I marveled at his insane physicality.
Definitely need to mind distance.
With fixed max range, I needed better motions to maximize the shotgun.
"So, Jeju's souvenirs end there?"
"Hardly."
I hadn't even used the Narrative Imprint.
"Wanna get messy like our first spar?"
Sword drawn, shotgun useless now. Close-quarters was my best shot. I'd grasped shotgun basics against the strong. Next: hand-to-hand.
"You sure?"
"It's training. Worst case, heal up like old times and head to the academy."
I rolled up my sleeves, adopting a basic infighting stance—fingers curved like claws, ready to slash or punch.
"...That's Oresik Style, isn't it?"
Parnello spotted my setup instantly.
And suddenly.
Hup!
A sticky, sharp chill raced down my spine. Breath caught. His eyes burned with near-mad intensity—tangible, dripping killing intent.
"Haven't faced Oresik in ages. Quite thrilling."
His creepy grin had me igniting aura in both hands, steeling myself, toes tensed to charge.
"Don't say that—it scares me more!"
I kicked off, swinging.
Ki-sik.
Oresik technique to reshape hardness—effective against tanky foes like Parnello.
"Mastering such skills already. Jeju wasn't a vacation, then."
But he evaded my barrage by a hair, utterly calm.
"I bagged a dragon—had to!"
Dodges? Grapple variants. I yanked his clothes, pulling into close range.
Paang—!
Cheek shot blocked by his left arm. Flank follow-up met raised knee; he counter-smiled with a liver blow.
Old me would've eaten it clean.
"But you're starting to show it...!"
No gap for power—I pressed harder, slapping his fist aside with my right.
"Gotcha!"
Elbow to jaw next.
But.
"Damn."
He leaned back; it grazed. I cursed instinctively, knowing what came next.
Hng!
Held breath, forced creaking body to move. His hand-chop sliced at my neck.
Prepped, I ducked, then one-leg tackled, shouldering to topple him.
If he falls!
But like an ancient tree, he braced on one leg.
"Futile, it seems."
"Not yet...!"
Sudden propulsion from mid-air kick!
Black Fog's aerial thrust toppled him finally.
Though...
"This isn't a sport."
His elbow cracked my skull, brain shaking, halting my follow-up.
"Your technique's improved overall... but still lacking."
Shaking me off, he grinned, loosening his neck.
"Young Master heads to the academy tomorrow. Shall we wrap up?"
His condescending tone shook clarity back into me. I extended my right arm.
"Fine. If this doesn't work..."
"This?"
Instantly, black flames bloomed, engulfing my right arm like a flower.
"Conditions just met."
Imprint — Dragon (Deathbringer to the Immortals): He plunged a dagger into the heart of the one who ruled the abyss's flames, devouring the immortal's blood amid a cascade of lethal strikes. He is the reaper of death who granted rest to the undying.
Breath
Dragon Scale
"Breath."
Black flames from my arm devoured everything around Parnello, spreading voraciously. Power far beyond expectations.
"...The effects are always insane."
I whistled at the blackened surroundings, checking for Parnello—
"Truly shocked, Young Master."
His deep voice from above. Then.
Thud.
Consciousness snapped like film reel ending. My last memory: his charred hand and the obliterated hall.
Next day, his bandaged hands told the tale.
And that was why I could laugh at Choi Yeon's words.