Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Side Story 3: Hope, Holy Sword, and Subjugation
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rumble rumble rumble...
The beast spread its wings wide.
Just that alone made the earth tremble. The black dragon truly possessed scales and hide of a dark hue. As its massive body rose from its crouched position, half the sun was blotted out.
Though they called it a subjugation, they hadn't devised any specific attack plan. Everyone was simply doing their utmost best.
Dale and Isabella always had a set way of fighting. Mage and swordsman. The two were perfect together. If magic worked better against the foe than the sword, Dale supported Isabella; if the sword proved more effective, Isabella aided Dale.
The black dragon was more vulnerable to the sword than magic. It was a dragon, after all. Piercing through a dragon's innate magic resistance and interference to deal damage with spells was far less efficient and powerful than scraping away its scales with a blade.
Kwachik! Dale stomped the ground and shot upward like an arrow. Knights flanked him on both sides. A gentle wind blew from behind. With the mage's support, the knights and Dale charged toward the dragon's neck, swords aimed to impale it.
Kwaaaaa! Karzeros flapped its wings. Larger than its own body, the wings generated a mighty gale with each beat. A storm born of pure force engulfed them. Isabella hurriedly cast spells to suppress the windstorm.
But the black dragon's surging mana interfered. The typhoon, which should have calmed by now, raged even fiercer. Watching the black dragon soar, Oshell yelled in alarm.
"Everyone, to the cliff!!!"
The black dragon's neck swelled slightly. It was about to breathe. Dale knew exactly what that meant.
Breath.
Not forgetting the true purpose of the subjugation, they rushed toward the cliff, using countless boulders as their backrest to prepare to face the dragon. The dragon twisted its head faintly. Yet the rye fields still lay within the breath's range.
Oshell gripped his sword tightly and soared high into the sky. Isabella created a foothold beneath his feet with magic. Stepping on the spell, Oshell rose to the black dragon's level.
Only then did the black dragon fully turn its head. Oshell thrust his sword, but kakagak! It couldn't pierce the scales to rend the flesh beneath.
Thwoong-!
The black dragon exhaled lightly. It was breath. The most basic attack associated with dragons. Its power defied imagination.
A pillar of energy erupted forth.
Isabella wildly waved her hands in the air. Oshell, in the breath's path, was slammed to the ground below. Isabella's doing.
Dale too was shoved aside by Isabella's magic. Thus, they escaped the breath's domain.
The breath that hit nothing streaked straight ahead unimpeded, striking the innocent cliff.
Kwaaaaang-! A shockwave followed. The gust from the crumbling cliff battered their backs. Part of the cliff collapsed, the ground fissured. A single attack had reshaped the terrain.
Even witnessing such cataclysmic might, knowing one hit would pulverize bones and end them, the knights facing the black dragon and Dale showed no change in expression.
No fear, no terror arose. They knew that even without the breath, any other strike would yield the same result. Rather than freeze in fright, they chose to advance.
This was the opening. Before the black dragon could act, Dale rocketed upward. Using the gale as a springboard, he closed in on the dragon as much as possible. Among all dragons he'd faced, this was the largest. He had no idea where to first plunge his sword to fell it.
So Dale stuck to his usual. First, the eyes. Blinding it would make it thrash wildly, but no vital spot was as reliable and effective. He dashed along the dragon's neck. Golden eyes gleamed. Without hesitation, he thrust his sword.
Puk.
Not enough. He jammed in every unfamiliar weapon at hand. The dragon's eye was shielded by mana. Dale drew up his own mana. Infusing the blade with as much sword aura as possible, he thrust. Thrust again and again. Sword, axe, dagger, knife—he swung them wildly.
Kwaduk! At last, he succeeded in slicing part of the dragon's eye.
Wracked by sudden agony, the black dragon's head thrashed violently.
Does it hurt? It hurts me too.
Dale chuckled and whispered. He was a battered mess.
The mana the black dragon summoned to protect itself battered Dale mercilessly. Despite priding himself on his sturdy frame, he was helpless before it.
But he'd landed a solid blow. Taking one eye for this price was a bargain.
So thinking, as he tried to somehow embed his sword in the neck and hold on—
Kwaduduk! Kwaduk!
Scales ground against metal. Below, Oshell relentlessly targeted the neck. The black dragon twisted to shake off Dale and Oshell. Kwoong! The dragon's heavy body crashed to the ground.
A fallen dragon. This was their chance. Things were going better than expected. Perhaps... they could subjugate it today. Such hopeful thoughts dominated Oshell and the knights' minds.
Thwoong-! Breath fired again. This time, not just breath. Lightning flashed. Breath was merely the dragon's most basic attack. Indeed. The black dragon hadn't used 'magic' yet.
They'd needed to pressure it to prevent magic, but it was too late. The unleashed spell tore through space, riddling the knights' bodies with holes.
Yet they lived. Their bodies still moved. With superhuman willpower, the knights compelled their flesh onward.
Magic and breath poured toward the rye fields and beyond to the territory. Despite backing against the cliff, the dragon's fall had shifted positions.
The knights did not forget their core duty.
They crossed the breath, blocked the magic. Stomping the earth to counter the dragon's roar, they shredded its wings.
They would bend, but not break.
The Steel Knights' motto.
Normally, it was "break before bending."
But they were different.
They bent, but did not break.
Countless Steel Knights died, bending, but they did not break—for they achieved what they set out to do.
In the end, they protected the rye fields.
They protected the homes beyond.
And they gave their all to hunt the dragon.
Oshell was the same. To prevent the dragon's magical tricks, he tore at its wings up close and shoved his sword into its maw. Breath engulfed him.
Not as potent as before. Weaker due to the combined magic. Oshell ignored the spells punching holes in his limbs and blocked the breath.
His riddled body swung the sword by force. A path opened.
Dale confirmed the path the knights had carved. The way to the black dragon's neck lay wide open.
Countless had sacrificed to open this single path.
He had to repay their sacrifice.
It was his duty.
His responsibility.
Dale's fate.
Dale twisted his shoulders. Planting his left foot, he channeled power and thrust his sword with all his might. Far stronger than when he'd pierced the eye earlier.
The recoil would surely leave no part of him unscathed, but Dale didn't care.
Just as the sword neared the black dragon's neck—
Pashak!
The long-overdue sword, its durability spent, shattered against the scales' hardness.
Dale's eyes bulged. This meant no dragon kill. No piercing those tough scales to hole the neck. But Dale didn't despair. If no teeth, use gums. He'd tear the flesh barehanded instead. Whether possible, only trying would tell.
Yet inwardly, he wailed.
Why, of all times, now?
This moment?
If only I had even one more sword...
Or at least a spear shaft...!
As Dale lamented his regret, the knights who'd tasted hope quietly raised their swords amid harsh reality and attacked the dragon.
Then, Dale's wish and desire summoned something.
A brilliant light descended before his eyes. Dale instinctively reached out and grasped what emerged. It took the form of a sword.
The holy sword.
A holy sword demands proof.
Countless gaze upon it in longing and prayer. May its wielder achieve great feats.
Thus, only a hero could wield it.
Only one who could bear their immense hopes and advance forward could prove worthy.
One seeking feats and bearing responsibility stood here.
Dale knew nothing of such holy sword qualifications or proofs. Even if he did, it mattered little now. What mattered was what he could do with it. The holy sword healed his broken body.
Dale lacked heroic noble sacrifice.
He simply wanted to kill the black dragon.
Sought to achieve the feat, to shoulder the responsibility.
And give hope to all.
He was more than qualified to wield it.
The holy sword never broke, no matter how swung. Dale plummeted with the dragon over the cliff.
A red cape fluttered.
The sword was embedded in the dragon's neck.
That day, hopeful news worthy of cheers across the continent arose.
The tyrant, Karzeros.
The feat of subjugating the dragon was achieved.
And word spread of a hero's birth.
Dragon slayer and hero.
His name was Dale.