Draig Goch (2)
The Magic Tower stood in the capital of the Empire.
The tower of astronomers and astrologers—the Grey Tower.
From the outside it looked like a tower, yet to the mages who resided there, the Grey Tower was nothing more than an observatory for watching the sky. And so, as always, the mages of the Grey Tower were gazing upward today as well.
Their daily work was to read the flow of the constellations that embroidered the night sky, to confirm whether a new star had been born or whether any star was setting.
Their duties, however, were famously static and rarely subject to great change. The constellations of the night sky seldom shifted in any dramatic way. Only a world-shaking historical event was enough to make the stars of the heavens tremble…
How often does a historical upheaval actually come around?
The master of the Grey Tower, Nayuta, sprawled across her sofa, slurping coffee and humming to herself. In her opinion, the post of Grey Tower Master was the perfect job for loafing. The budget was fat, and the actual work amounted to nothing more than staring leisurely at the sky.
The Platinum Tower Master next door is working herself to the bone.
Remembering her colleague who pulled all-nighters and cut sleep to the bone, Nayuta chuckled. Who told her to join the Platinum Tower? Working less and earning more—that was the true winner in life.
Just as she was settling into another unremarkable day of sucking the honey from her easy post, the Grey Tower shuddered with a deep thud.
Linked to the celestial bodies, the Grey Tower reacted keenly to the movement of the constellations. A tremor of this magnitude meant a great change had occurred in the heavens. Nayuta’s eyes flew open; she snapped her head up and looked at the sky.
The sky was in turmoil.
The constellations were thrashing wildly, shoved aside to left and right. It was the same shape the sky had taken when Arthur’s constellation had once shaken. The birth of a colossal constellation alone was enough to rock the heavens.
Has King Arthur’s star moved again?
No—something was different this time.
The stars were fleeing in terror. Nayuta’s gaze slid across the firmament. She might loaf most days, but she was a first-class astrologer officially recognized by the Empire. Those eyes pierced straight to the heart of the flow.
And blood streamed from Nayuta’s eyes.
There hung a vast star that could not be observed, could not be understood, that one must never dare to look upon. The moment she faced the crimson-black Calamity Star—the Witch’s constellation—blood poured from her eyes and nose. Her pupils trembled.
A constellation that had kept silent for a thousand years.
The constellation of the Witch of the Abyss was there.
The crimson-black star revealed itself for only the briefest instant before vanishing back into the dark. Yet even that was enough to convulse the sky and throw the heavens into chaos. Amid the constellations’ panic, Nayuta lowered her gaze.
The place the Witch’s star had briefly illuminated.
She already knew what lay there.
Stonehenge.
The tomb of the dragons.
The Red Dragon roared at the sky and began smashing everything in sight. The Imperial knight order fell back; the white-grade adventurers also faltered and retreated.
Something was wrong.
The situation no longer matched the stories they had heard.
They could accept that the White Dragon and Red Dragon had resurrected without a scratch. There still seemed to be a way to kill them; they had thought the pair manageable. But this Red Dragon was different. Its bulk had swollen two- or threefold, and the force it radiated had changed completely.
This was impossible.
They knew it instinctively.
This was not an enemy that Sword Seeker-level manpower could handle. Sword aura would not pierce those scales that scattered crimson light, and they doubted they could even sever that thick neck. Above all, the pressure the Red Dragon exuded was real.
If they staked their lives they might leave a wound or two, but the cost would never balance. In the end they were adventurers—people who weighed life against profit. Free adventurers, not knights bound by duty.
“This isn’t going to work.”
“Not an enemy we can face. Impossible.”
“We’d need at least ten Sword Seekers. Four of us aren’t enough.”
“Or bring a Sword Master.”
At minimum they needed ten Sword Seekers.
And even that was only the bare minimum; gathering ten still offered no guarantee they could hunt it. They could not even grasp where or how to begin the hunt.
The three white-grade adventurers muttered as much and stepped back. One of them had already been knocked out of the fight with a single blow. Fighting further in this situation was the sort of thing only idiots would do.
“So you’re running?”
And here stood one idiot.
Roselyn Ascalo, who had been silent until now, tossed the words out. She had not retreated a single step; she remained exactly where she stood. At her remark the white-grade adventurer Richard Polschen frowned and opened his mouth.
“Retreat is the correct choice. Until Imperial reinforcements—”
“That big red lizard’s going to hit Cambria faster than Imperial reinforcements, don’t you think? Uncle Richard, you’re not saying that because you don’t know, right?”
Roselyn let out a sigh.
If they fled here, the Red Dragon would head for the nearest city—Cambria. Dragons, by nature, moved to kill humans and destroy civilization.
And Cambria could not stop the Red Dragon.
The people standing here were the strongest force Cambria possessed; even if every remaining adventurer in the city were gathered, they still could not hunt a dragon. Without Sword Seeker-level output, one could not even scratch a dragon’s scales.
“So you’re saying you’ll fight, Roselyn?”
“Got any other options? Sure, I could just run and not give a damn whether the city people die or not…”
Roselyn shrugged.
“I’ve got a lot of property tied up in Cambria, Uncle. Just set up a new mercenary-company base, even bought a house. You know how hard I worked for that stuff? If it all goes up in smoke, kind of sucks.”
Leaving her subordinates to die would also suck, she muttered under her breath, spinning the Masterpiece in her hand.
“Of course that’s just my situation. You and the two behind you can run if you want.”
But, she added with a crooked grin,
“Then later, when I call you cowardly little shits, you’ve got no right to complain.”
Roselyn clashed her twin blades together.
Kiiiiiiing! A noise that stabbed the eardrums echoed. The Red Dragon’s head, which had been turning to pursue the retreating knights, snapped toward Roselyn.
“That’s right. Over here, you damn lizard.”
Roselyn Ascalo twisted her lips upward.
“Red ones should play with red ones, don’t you think?”
She tapped the corner of her eye.
Those red, swirling pupils were the mark of a witch. Born of a witch and a human, Roselyn glared at the Red Dragon that shared the same eyes.
————————!
The Red Dragon roared.
As if answering her provocation, recognizing her as an enemy, it charged straight at Roselyn, smashing everything in its path. Watching the approaching monster, Roselyn clicked her tongue.
Yeah, this is definitely rough.
She could never take that thing alone.
She glanced behind her. The three white-grade adventurers. If they joined, even a slim chance would appear—but they remained silent and unmoving, as though wrestling with something.
Well, running wasn’t easy either.
They had grown fond of Cambria too, and their bases were there. They were merely hesitating because they were reluctant to stake their lives on a fight with no visible odds. Which meant, put another way…
If the situation tilted even a little, they would join.
What Roselyn had to show them now was possibility. Even a sliver would do; she needed to create a situation in which they could feel a chance of victory. Naturally, that was no easy task.
Tch. At times like this you need at least one idiot who’ll charge in with you.
Originally there had been one. The kind of guy who stuck his foot in first and rushed without thinking front or back. A brat who suited her tastes perfectly. But that one had been knocked out of the fight with a single blow. Whether he was alive or dead was still unclear.
“Haa…”
Roselyn sighed and settled into her stance.
She would try it alone if she had to. Just as she adjusted her grip on the Masterpiece Echo and prepared to step toward the Red Dragon—
Kwaaang!
Far away, a pile of rubble exploded into the air.
A sudden thunderous crash. Roselyn’s eyes turned toward the sound. Bursting out through the shattered remains of a fallen stone pillar was a boy gripping a sword. Roselyn’s eyes widened, then she burst out laughing.
“That crazy bastard.”
Took a direct hit and he’s already moving?
Still laughing, Roselyn tilted her head. Across the dragon, her gaze met Najin’s. No words were needed. The moment Roselyn pointed right and sprinted, Najin charged left.
A beast of the Mythic Age.
A living Mystery.
Two swordsmen raced toward the colossal monster. Compared to the dragon’s bulk the two humans were insignificant, yet the sword aura blooming from the blades they held was anything but.
Fragments of transcendence seized by human hands.
Radiant clusters of light that held the possibility of piercing a dragon’s scales flared brilliantly.
Sprinting toward the Red Dragon, Najin regulated his breathing. The dragon’s tail had slammed him; his breath was ragged. His body creaked. But it was not enough to stop him from moving.
Merlin.
As he ran, Najin spoke inwardly.
That just now—that was the Witch’s star, right?
-That’s right.
The Witch intervened?
This was the inland continent. A stable space where constellations could barely interfere. Yet the Witch had found some means to intervene.
-That bitch intervened, yes. Originally the Red Dragon would never have attacked the White Dragon. They were split from one being; they treasured each other deeply.
The Witch had controlled the Red Dragon.
She had made it devour the White Dragon and become complete. In the process, Merlin said, she had touched the dragon’s very essence.
-Whatever means she used, she won’t be able to use it again. Bedivere moved the Round Table.
Merlin was looking at the sky.
In her eyes she would be watching the constellations re-align and re-order. That sight must have been magnificent, yet Najin had no leisure to look at the heavens now.
Camlann, the Round Table, those beings floating high above… he could not spare them attention when—
A dragon was roaring right in front of him.
His battlefield was here. His opponent was the Red Dragon that stood on the earth and roared. What Najin had to focus on was that crimson dragon alone. Kicking off the ground with creaking legs, he forced his eyes wide open.
Heavy. Fast. Hard to cut.
The Red Dragon whose bulk had swollen several times over.
Taking that earlier blow head-on, Najin had realized: ordinary means could not cut this Red Dragon. He had to invent a way to tear those scales open and drive a blade in.
From a half to a complete being, the Red Dragon was now a Mystery beast that fully possessed every trait Merlin had described of dragons.
Only a Sword Master could sever that neck in a single stroke. As he was now, Najin could at best leave a scratch on those scales. If he hammered the same spot dozens or hundreds of times, could he cut through? He could not be certain.
An opponent whose odds remained murky even if one staked one’s life. Feeling the pounding of his heart, Najin steadied his breath.
The basics of dragon hunting.
What Merlin had taught him.
No matter how much stronger the opponent had become, what Najin had to do had not changed. First he had to rob it of that absurd mobility. His eyes locked onto the Red Dragon’s wings.
Once it took to the sky, it would be uncatchable.
He had to tear those wings while it was still excited and crawling on the ground. Roselyn, who had exchanged looks with him, seemed to have reached the same conclusion. The two of them slid like water along the flanks of the charging dragon.
Najin’s grip tightened on the hilt.
What coiled around his blade was a constellation of white and gold. He knew this was the reverse scale of dragons. Merlin had told him so.
Platinum-gold sword aura that resembled Arthur’s.
Light that held the possibility of piercing the Mystery of dragons.
Turning Merlin’s words over in his mind, Najin called up a scene from a fairy tale. Arthur charging without hesitation toward the colossal monsters of the Mythic Age—giants and dragons. At the end of that battle Arthur had hung a star in the sky.
A star, a great feat, the first step toward becoming a hero.
Whether his own sword would work against this dragon, he did not know. Yet Najin decided. He would bring this dragon down no matter what. He would achieve a feat beyond what Arthur had accomplished and carve a star of his own.
Without fail.
Having decided, there was only action.
Najin kicked off the ground and leapt into the air. His sword aura flared and blazed. Answering him, Roselyn leapt from the opposite side and clashed her twin blades together.
“Hey, Najin.”
Roselyn called his name.
Not “brat,” but Najin. As if offering respect to the one who had charged into the battlefield without hesitation, she willingly used his name.
“I don’t do this for just anyone.”
The echo she spread.
The wave created by the Masterpiece shimmered right in front of Najin’s nose—as if she had prepared a place for him as well.
“Hit it with everything you’ve got. Your strongest.”
Najin smiled.
Then he swung his sword with every ounce of strength into the wavering wave before him. The strongest blow he could deliver. The instant his sword aura mixed into the wave—
Kiiiiiiiiiiiiing!
An Echo loaded with the sword aura of two people layered upon itself and rang out in multiple overlapping waves.