Chapter 362
Chapter 362
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 362
Chapter Title: Dragon Slayer -3
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#2: Inside the Train
Creeeak, crack.
Shhrrrk──!
The train's floor was sliced into hundreds of pieces, and from below, the boy's figure shot up. After the first clash with the train, he'd flattened himself low to the ground, then carved through the undercarriage and slipped inside.
He wiped the blood trickling from his mouth. The impact from a hunk of metal barreling along at 110 km/h had pierced even his mana barrier, chilling him down to his bones. The damage was no joke.
Catching his breath, the boy pondered. Why hadn't his body moved just moments ago?
His Epithet [Cleave Phenomena] was an ability of utter impermanence, capable of slicing through all things. If he could just latch onto it, he could counter any kind of attack. Curses and bindings were no exception.
Yet whatever technique had restrained his body... he hadn't detected it at all.
He'd been plenty wary of the Magic Tower's signature hypnosis or brainwashing. If it'd been something like that, he would've sensed the signs and preemptively cleaved it away.
It didn't seem like his muscles had been loosened or stiffened to paralyze him, either. If so, a flick of his finger to activate [Cleave Phenomena] would've freed him.
The problem wasn't just the binding. It was the attack itself.
Suddenly, the world enveloping the boy had flipped entirely—and it was still happening. He'd felt the physical impact, too real to be an illusion. So what madness was this wizard pulling off?
Dimensional magic? No... it felt a bit different.
Bang──!
At that instant, detecting a projectile fired from the far end of the train, the boy knight swung his sword. With a tick, the bullet split in two and veered off to either side.
He channeled mana into his eyes to heighten his vision. In the last car, an old man was mounted on some sleek, elongated mechanical device, accompanied by a scientist in round glasses.
"Did he just block an anti-materiel rifle with a sword? Just how far does mana plan to mock the laws of physics? Keep firing until the second wave's ready, Abraham."
"If we're talking mocking physics, isn't your giant robot leading the charge?"
Clack.
He couldn't make sense of their conversation, but he caught that an attack was incoming. These projectiles took a moment to reload, too.
It'd take about a minute to dash the length of this long train and reach them, and at least ten more shots would come his way. The boy knight decided to show a little flair.
He lowered his sword and assumed position.
[Cleave Phenomena] sliced through everything. If that axiom held true, he could sever an enemy's lifespan to kill them outright or cleave the flow of time itself to halt it.
And he could actually do it. It just took far more time and effort than slitting a throat with a direct swing. Because those things were tough.
You couldn't cleave someone else's lifespan or stop time with a single stroke; it demanded decades of sustained slashes just to barely sever them, given their insane durability.
So how was the durability of what he cleaved determined? Even the Sword Saint wielding the Epithet couldn't pinpoint the exact formula. He could only guess trends from thick experience.
Things acting on oneself rather than others generally had low durability.
Which was why he was now cleaving friction and air resistance.
Thud.
A light kick off the floor sent him skidding forward. His body accelerated wildly, unhindered by any resistance.
"⋯⋯⋯⋯!!"
Bang──!
The second shot merely grazed his forearm.
And before the next bullet could even chamber, the boy knight had closed to the next car. The bespectacled scientist shouted in haste.
"He's through—switch!"
And the world flipped.
#3: Stratosphere
Whiiiiiish──!
Wind. The boy felt it whipping around his entire body. Opening his eyes, the sun blazed closer than ever. He was plummeting through empty sky, nothing beneath him.
Peering down, there was no ground where it should be—just yawning, pitch-black void.
He calmly swung his sword to slow his fall, but once more, his body wouldn't move. Undetectable. What the hell was binding him?
The mad wizard's voice echoed from the heavens.
"That's a fine ability, but even omnipotence has limits. I figured if I made you swing that sword all day up there, it'd wear you out eventually. A battle of output—and I'd win."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
"Apache helicopters inbound. Deflect all their cannon fire with no footing in midair."
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
With the roar of rotors, bizarre flying machines approached from the distant sky. The boy knight closed his eyes calmly and thought.
The mad wizard was toying with an entire world at whim. Where in this reality was a sky without ground?
Then the binding throttling his movements from earlier... it was the world's own inexorable pressure. Like an invisible giant hand clenching him tight.
Just as the Evil Dragon had stealthily nudged his fate without anyone noticing.
If the world crushed him, he'd have to shatter the world to advance. The boy knight readied his Apotheosis ability. And just as he raised his sword──
All the illusions vanished like a mirage.
⋯⋯⋯⋯.
Opening his eyes, the boy knight stood in place. No wounds from the train impact. No graze from the anti-materiel shots. Mana was depleted, but no external injuries.
And he was encircled by the three in a triangle. At point-blank, , [Wave Heart Mirage], and Aisha's punch gleamed threateningly.
The match was decided. Enough to end the tale, at least.
Perfectly surrounded, the boy knight faced their lethal strikes with utter calm.
"A dream?"
"Something like that."
"I prided myself on having one of the strongest mental barriers around. How'd you pull it off?"
"You didn't dream it—this space did. Like overlaying footage on a green screen, I draped a dream over reality."
In other words, a forced session.
With a power source like Dragon Heart, even ultimate moves like this were fair game. When the cast ended, any damage taken inside reset too—handy, if not always ideal.
Perfect for a peaceful takedown like this. Beat them senseless in the dream, wring out a surrender, then dispel. No one gets hurt, fight over.
Best part? No need to lie in a lab magic circle... mobile camping sessions were a game-changer.
The boy knight let out a hollow chuckle.
"Dimensional magic, through and through. Even without the Evil Dragon, you could take its place. Ruling everything from the shadows."
"If I ballooned to Evil Dragon size, yeah. I'd warp the whole world... but I won't go that far. No plans to grow stronger, either."
"Reason?"
"The world's way more fun when it's just fiction."
Why suffer real tragedies and grief? Stories have that covered.
"Fair enough. I'll trust you, then."
The boy knight smiled at his answer. Then said,
"No apology for the misunderstanding. But a formal one later. We're both busy now, right? Once it's done, I'll visit the Violet Magic Tower."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
"For Lulu's sake, at least. Or gratitude for that funding you approved."
⋯⋯He just said that himself?
Blunter than expected. This Sword Saint guy.
Aisha scowled at the sight and threw a few sharp left hooks. Her fist nailed his side with crisp form, but he didn't flinch.
"Hey, old timer. Don't think you can pick a fight then switch to humble mode. You think my dad's got an ocean of forgiveness? Big mistake. Get ready for soul-crushing shame."
"⋯⋯Coming from you, Aisha, what does that make me?"
"Preemptively nixing any face-saving mercy. Skip revenge over nothing and you'll toss and turn at night. I did good?"
"Having a daughter I wanna bite is making this dad too happy, really."
But rebellious streaks kick in. When some cheeky side egged him on, surrender felt tempting. After a moment's thought, he decided.
"Sure. Full course at the Tower later. For now... hear this young man out."
He pulled out the safely stowed Hero Ping and brought him before the boy knight.
Hero Ping blinked in confusion at the sudden "he's got something to say," like a newbie yanked into CEO chit-chat.
A bit abrupt, maybe. But to him, it was obvious the guy had words brewing. He patted his back.
Hero Ping hesitated, then...
"⋯⋯I've heard the tales. Slaying countless warlocks, saving just as many. I respect you."
"Hm."
"But merit's merit, faults are faults. Good deeds aren't get-out-of-jail-free. So... shouldn't you apologize to those you nearly killed?"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
Whoa.
The boy knight exhaled—sigh or admiration, unclear. His gaze softened as he nodded readily.
"You're a true hero. Yes, I'll apologize to them."
A regular youth's straight talk humbled the Sword Saint. He bowed deeply to those he'd tried to kill.
Ping fidgeted, half-worried about incoming steel, but visibly relieved to speak his piece.
Then came the intel share. His travel path, warlock necks snapped, items gleaned chasing the Evil Dragon's trail.
Bottom line.
"Old man. You're saying you still don't know where it is?"
"Embarrassing, after a lifetime's hunt. But what can you do."
Unknown.
Yet ignorance can be intel sometimes. This guy, with Apotheosis-level prowess, roamed the continent slaying warlocks like flies.
And still no trace. So it wasn't hiding in plain sight.
Empathy time.
He was the Game Master. Running a TRPG, hiding an NPC that'd snag things if players found it. Where to stash?
Somewhere players couldn't reach, obviously. No matter how they scoured—like Yuna's voice realm.
And this continent had just the spot.
[Eastern Front].
Where demons poured endlessly from dimensional gates, forcing constant Imperial deployments. Where Elaine held the line. Evil Dragon's handiwork, circumstantial evidence said.
Dream demons, demons—partial info-lifeforms, popping up out of nowhere. Beyond a gate endlessly respawning them...
No normal person could reach it. Or would try.
A weird hunch hit. His guess felt right, like a pull, an impulse. Intuition screaming. As if someone whispered the answer.
"⋯⋯Jumping to conclusions? Suspicious, sure, but no smoking gun."
Aisha grumbled skeptically.
"Nah, Eastern Front's it."
Tucking Dragon Heart away, he was certain.
Beyond that gate, in the demon realm, lay the dragon's husk.
Ping asked.
"⋯⋯How'd you know I had something to say? Or rather, why make me say it?"
"First, it'd land better from you than me. Weak folks' courage shines brightest sometimes. And⋯⋯."
"And?"
"Second, stacking your resume. Hero Ping lands the blow, reforms the boy knight. Sounds good?"
Hero Ping blanked out briefly, then hopped mad.
"I don't need it──!! Rank, fame, feats!!"
Heh heh heh.
He knew. Once grown, ditch popehood for quiet merc life, fitting his station. He knew, but...
He'd shoved the role on him amid urgency, so he'd indulge most requests.
Niole mentioned offhand last time. She said,
'Pope won't let Hero Ping go easy.'
So build him up for later exit? No harm.
Here huddled two wretched remnants: and [Corpse Flower]. Their plans shattered, themselves wounded or preparations lost.
"All because... just one guy⋯⋯ Ah, what was it? Name's... slipping my mind. Ha, hahaha!"
"Shut it. Delicate work here⋯⋯."
[Number Virgin] was long dead, Duke Redburn too. Warlock forces crumbled. What remained would scatter soon.
The scales had tipped.
They'd banked on toppling the Empire; now swallowing one kingdom was iffy. How'd it come to this?
This was their last shot.
[Nightmare Summon]. [Corpse Flower]'s grand spell, dragging out the target's deepest fear. She'd planned a boy knight clone, but⋯⋯.
"Damn cleaning golem!"
That damn moment still haunted her dreams.
No shortcut to scrape 300 years' mana quick. With the warlock network collapsed, even less so. Success odds: abysmal.
But dying like this? No. Bet everything—souls, mana, all—in. Prayed desperately to the gods──.
Before them lay the dragon corpse.
Soul, heart, authority gone—corpse fit. Yet black scales gleamed undimmed, massive muscles and flesh still pulsed with blood.
stepped forward, ampules brimming in both hands.
"Ready. Pull my nightmare. Might not be intact⋯⋯ Maybe I forgot my worst one."
"Shut up."
Plan: Cast [Nightmare Summon] on . If it worked, high chance of evil god. He worshipped it deep down.
Then bind whatever emerged... to the dragon corpse. Evil Dragon revival, basically.
Success? Who knew. Proper summon? Doubtful. 's half-wiped mind might lack the full image. Only option, though⋯⋯.
"Please, please⋯⋯ [Nightmare Summon]."
"Gah, guaaah, aaaaaaagh──!!"
Black vortex engulfed , ravenously ripping memories. The ominous fog twisted, dispersed, reformed.
Then, in a flash, it sucked into the black dragon's body.
, gaunt to bare bones, gasped at the still dragon corpse.
"Huff, huff⋯⋯ Did... it work?"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯Dunno."
No clue. What came? Properly bound? Botched prep, mana starved!
Just hoped something stuck. And the spell's safeguard—obeying the caster—kicked in.
An hour, two, three passed in dull agony...
As despairing [Corpse Flower] clawed her hair, pondering dooms...
Flick.
That massive eyelid curled upward.