Begging and Begging Again (9)

Baramson exhaled, feeling a brutal rigidity instead of the chill he had expected.

Damn it, what just happened? I was gripping the helm, and then something slammed into me—cold and hard, yet soaking my body so thoroughly that…

“Oh God.”

The radiance driving back the wind and rain, the warmth enveloping him, snapped Baramson back to his senses. The agony as if every bone in his body had shattered gradually eased, clearing his head.

“The ground I tread shall become Your ground.”

He hastily opened his eyes and saw the pillar of light that had struck ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down upon the Inquisitor who traveled with the Demon Knight.

The brilliant light flooding from that pillar spilled in every direction, forcibly pinning the ship to the water’s surface and burning away every unholy thing in the sea.

“Be with me.”

Even the Inquisitor’s tears of blood, if nothing else.

“…Is that really a person?”

“…The dragon.”

Ah, this is no time for that.

With his mind now clear, he managed to recall the last thing he had seen.

Return to the ship.

The breath too cold for a living man, the hand that had violently seized his collar, the single whispered phrase—and then their positions reversed.

The one who had hurled him onto the ship and been swallowed by the sea in his place…

Those ash-gray eyes that had never wavered to the very end.

They so resembled the father who had given his life to save him that all he could feel was grief.

“The Demon Knight—where’s the Demon Knight?!”

He shook off the first mate’s arm—the man who for some reason would not speak—and forced his upper body upright. Then, in the next instant, he lost the power of speech.

“…Hey. Hey.”

It was not that the first mate did not care for him, nor that he had no intention of helping. There was simply something far more overwhelming than rendering aid.

“If you’re going to do this, you should’ve stepped in before the ship started breaking apart!”

Was it even possible for a living man to witness a human facing a dragon alone? Would anyone believe that a warrior truly existed who could fight a corrupted dragon as an equal amid tidal waves, storms, and thunder?

“Damn it, the sun’s about to set! Keep your promise, you bastard Demon Knight!”

Even in that desperate situation, Baramson found himself absurdly buoyant.

How could he not?

“…Piuon, if I make it back to land alive, I’m going to have to listen to the story of this day dozens of times over.”

No one in the world—not even the gods in heaven—had ever laid eyes on a sight like this.

I should have driven my sword into its brow earlier.

I raced across the dragon’s body, boots stomping its scales, replaying the opportunity I had missed by a hair’s breadth. The seawater and rain made everything treacherously slick; every step demanded careful attention.

Kyaaaaak!

The black dragon lunged its head toward me, striking down along its own body. I hastily pushed off and dodged the charge.

Twisted like a proportional symbol (∝), the dragon slammed its head into the sea. It was the same move it had tried a minute ago—when it had nearly gotten its brow skewered and learned its lesson.

“Tch!”

Missing that one chance was going to hurt this badly?

Instead of planting my foot on the head that had just shot past, I settled back onto the spot I had been standing. Now that the head had plunged beneath the surface, crossing over there would only mean a trip into the ocean. There was no other choice.

The moment I went into the water, my defeat would be sealed. Somehow I had to keep using its body as solid ground and stay in the sky.

So I ran the full length of the dragon’s body, all the way to the severed tail. And when I finally reached the end, I poured mana into my legs and leapt as high as I could.

Streams of blood spattered against me.

Paaang!

Before I could finish falling, the great sea split open and the black dragon’s gaping maw surged upward.

But I was the one who chose where I would land.

I barely slipped past its mouth and slid along the corner of its jaw, blade hooked into the flesh.

My longsword, wreathed in black energy, tore through hide and skin, performing expansion work on the mouth. For a human it would have been like ripping the corner of the mouth all the way back to the ear.

Krrrrrk!

Friction, scales, and the toughness of the flesh made it impossible to carve halfway through the body.

I stopped after tearing the mouth open exactly the length of its snout. I felt like a movie protagonist.

You know the type—slipping while free-climbing a cliff, slamming an ice axe or pickaxe into the rock face and hanging there by a thread.

Kyaaaaak!!

The difference between those heroes and me was this:

Their cliffs were not alive, so they could simply climb back up carefully. My dragon was thrashing in an active effort to throw me off.

My body began to fall, yanked free along with the sword.

“Sir Knight!”

But I was not alone. From the ship that had not yet sunk—wait, what was that light?—a wooden plank came spinning through the air.

Splash!

As a bonus, the plank landed near my fall point. I had a foothold.

Kwaaang!

On impact the plank was driven deep by the enormous force, shoving seawater aside; then it simply split with a sharp crack.

But before it completely lost its value as a platform, I launched myself into the open sky. My next foothold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the dragon’s body, now exposed because its head had surfaced.

It stood nearly vertical, making it hard to stand on, but luckily I still had my sword. I poured mana into the longsword.

Kiiik. A strange metallic screech came from the blade.

Kwajik!

Even so, the mana-infused longsword punched straight through the scales and lodged firmly. Now I had something to hang onto and endure.

Kyaaaaak!

Once again the dragon twisted its head with liquid grace, trying to swallow me. Jumping was difficult in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this position, yet I was not particularly worried.

Something else was thrashing beneath the waves besides the black dragon’s body.

Kiaaaaa!

A clear roar rang out, and the Sea Dragon that had briefly hidden itself reappeared.

Its jaws clamped onto the black dragon’s nape; the head that had been aiming for me twisted away. The nearly vertical body tilted into a slope right after.

I climbed the uneven scales like free-climbing a rock face. It was slick as hell, but remembering that I would have to do this all over again if I failed gave me strength I did not know I had.

Krrrk.

I crawled, then walked, then broke into a full run. The sword came free of its own accord and came with me.

Mana-wrapped legs bounded up the black dragon’s body. There were stretches too steep to leap, so I switched over to the Sea Dragon to gain altitude.

A glance downward at the ocean made me feel as if I were standing on a bungee platform. The water looked impossibly far away.

Fortunately I had no fear of heights. Something like this did not scare me in the least.

My legs vaulted over the Sea Dragon’s head and met the black dragon head-on just as it was released from the other dragon’s grip.

A slight timing issue left me floating in midair instead of landing on it, but what was already done was done. Might as well put out some damage first.

Kiiik!

With a dreadful metallic screech I unleashed the mana I had loaded into the blade.

A crescent-shaped Chamgyeok carved a diagonal line across the black dragon’s nape. The wound looked like the shallow cuts one makes when preparing a fish.

Kyaaaaak!

The black dragon thrashed in pain and seemed about to lay its body down upon the sea.

Whether it was dead or not, my own situation took priority.

After all, what was going to happen to a body floating in midair? It would simply slam into the seawater.

That could not be allowed.

I urgently tensed every muscle, desperate to land on the black dragon’s body somehow. If I used it as a shield, the impact of the fall would at least be cushioned.

Luckily the black dragon’s bulk was vast. For some reason—wind resistance, maybe—it fell more slowly than I did.

Thanks to that I managed to land on its belly and rode it downward.

Kwaaang!

Just as expected, the black dragon’s flesh absorbed nearly all of the shock of hitting the water.

Twitch.

Unfortunately it was still alive; it immediately began flipping over to slip beneath the surface.

I sprang upward in a hurry and stomped on a Dragon Tooth Soldier that had luckily poked its head above the water—though it had probably been aiming for me. The soldier that had served as a stepping stone sank, and my body slapped firmly against the Sea Dragon’s hide.

Perhaps because I was clinging to the scales without driving a sword in, the Sea Dragon did not attack me. That said, it also offered no kindness such as depositing me on the ship or on its own head.

As if preparing to dive, the Sea Dragon plunged its head into the sea and began to glide. The section I was gripping rose slowly upward like a roller coaster just leaving the station.

“Haa… haah.”

Only then did I realize how ragged my breathing had become.

I was a little—no, more than a little—exhausted.

Hardly surprising. My HP, which had plummeted because of holy power, had recovered to about half, while my mana was nearly empty from fighting the dragons.

Even without a fear of heights, skirmishing high above the ocean with the constant risk of falling in was enough to put any human on edge.

And it was not as if my original physical condition had been good either.

The seasickness from hours of sailing had never fully left me; I had simply endured and suppressed it with pure willpower. Now that I finally had a moment to catch my breath, it was only natural for everything to come crashing down at once.

Gripping tight.

Still, I did not want to do this again.

The thought of having to repeat the whole ordeal made strength well up on its own. It was just like the sewers under Tatara.

I do not have the confidence to retry this. More importantly, I do not want to.

Clearing a boss fight with a fatigue meter at one hundred after crawling through the sewers, or enduring seasickness for several more hours of sailing—both were pure hell!

I forced my senses to stay sharp and calculated possible transfer points. I needed a plan before the body I was standing on completely submerged.

“…?”

Yet deep beneath the waves I saw a pitch-black shadow. Nothing new, really. Once the dragons had dived, something churning under the water was only natural.

But its position was wrong. It should not have appeared there.

It should not be aiming for the ship instead of me.

“You damn dragon!”

Hey! Just because I’m fluttering around dodging you doesn’t mean you get to hit the undefended base! Are you camping empty houses?! This game’s balancing is absolute garbage!!

I frantically searched for something that could serve as a foothold.

Of course there was nothing. The fragments of the mast were far too few to fill this open sea, and the violent swells had long since swallowed them.

The dragons? They never showed me any consideration. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Every time I had managed to run across them had been pure stacked luck.

Without a dragon surfacing, I was a helpless existence. Right now I was one step away from falling into the ocean myself.

So what then? How could I stop the thing rising to smash the ship’s bottom? How could I land even one solid hit on that damn dragon…

Without warning a window rose and partially blocked my vision. Inside it was a brand-new skill I had never seen on the skill screen, never imagined, and never even wished for.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Out of nowhere? Here? A free new skill?

For crying out loud. If you’re going to do this, either lower the difficulty or make it reasonable.

Only after the crisis hits do you toss me a ‘Hey, use this’?

“What the…”

Or have you just given up on hiding things?

“This isn’t even a beta test!”

But complaints were complaints, and my current predicament was my current predicament.

They still had not fixed the logout bug; balance patches were hardly a priority. If I already knew something would not work, I simply had to make proper use of what I was given.

I hurriedly reread the description and turned it over in my mind.

Sacrifice HP to recover mana. Right. Mana recovery.

“…So dump every last drop of mana, is that it?”

The only ranged skill I could use was Chamgyeok, and from previous tests its range scaled with the mana consumed.

I had never confirmed whether it could fly this far… but with no other options I had to roll the dice. The Sea Dragon’s body now had only the tail left; there was no more room to retreat.

Believing the system would not have handed me this skill for no reason, I raised my sword. Extending a large, long Chamgyeok was better with a two-hander than a longsword, so of course I switched weapons.

And the moment the support beneath my feet reached its limit, I leapt forward as far as I could and swung the two-hander horizontally.

An aura more powerful than any I had ever produced cleaved the ocean and finally reached the black dragon that had been trying to overturn the ship.

I cut it.

That clear certainty clung to my fingertips as my vision filled with the black sea.