Chapter 402
Chapter 402
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 402
Chapter Title: The Worst Situation
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This was the worst situation. Really.
The surging heat, the wyvern squadron descending as it shoved the air aside, the dragon hunter charging while scraping his greatsword along the ground. And right behind me loomed a massive cliff with nowhere to retreat.
I'd been backed into a corner.
In this scenario where the world itself seemed to be forcing death upon me, Belnoa closed their eyes. They steadied their breathing. When Belnoa opened their eyes again, their body was already shrouded in shadow.
Shadow armor. Body reinforcement. Dragon's claws.
Pooling every last drop of mana and the power of all ten fingers as an offering, Belnoa reinforced their body. Dragon claws replaced the broken fingers. As Belnoa slammed their foot into the ground with a thud, the goddess issued a warning.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [You know this, but...] This would be the last trade.
Your body in its current state can't endure any more deals. The goddess murmured as much, and Belnoa gave a curt reply. "I know."
Demonic qi poisoning. Injuries. Wounds festering with poison. Oozing pus. Fatigue. Thirst. Hunger. Drained stamina. Exhaustion. Mental erosion from demonic qi. A hazy, blurred consciousness.
Had they ever fought in a situation this fucked up before? Had they ever been this hopelessly cornered? As far as Belnoa could recall, no. Which made this moment utterly unprecedented for them.
Something they'd never experienced.
A realm they'd never touched.
To challenge that realm, Belnoa pushed their already spent body even harder. Praying it would just hold out through this one battle.
'The odds of winning? Naturally, zero.'
They knew it was impossible.
And yet, they couldn't give up. They had to go back. That's what they'd promised. To keep that promise, Belnoa glared with fierce determination.
Time, which had slowed, regained its normal speed.
Belnoa thrust a hand toward the onrushing wyvern maws. First things first, these bastards.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The dragon hunter, Asterio, knew nothing about magic.
He couldn't even handle mana, let alone read spells. But in its place, he possessed superhuman senses. The ability to feel the flow of power.
"...Hah."
That's why Asterio let out a hollow chuckle.
A human on the brink of death. One who looked ready to collapse any second. And now, around them surged a torrent. A massive flow of power. A force comparable to a superhuman's—fierce and unrelenting.
Like a candle flickering out, emitting one final brilliant light? Or had they been holding back their strength until the end? He couldn't know the reason, but...
'Can't let my guard down.'
Asterio knew better.
On countless battlefields, those cornered always produced variables. To avoid getting swept up in them, you could never afford to relax.
Rooooaaar!
The wyverns' flames swept the ground. Amid the soaring inferno, the wyverns charged in a suicidal rush. The moment they vanished into the blaze...
Slash.
Five streaks of wind sliced through the flames.
The thin, razor-sharp winds dragged the fire along, shredding the wyvern caught in their wake. The beast that had hidden in the flames emerged as mangled chunks.
The flames slowly parted.
Revealed within was Belnoa, arms dangling loosely, stance low, eyes gleaming ferociously. Those eyes burned with savage intensity—like a beast's.
The Shadow Knight, Belnoa.
True to the moniker, their body was cloaked in shadow. The shadow armor protected Belnoa even amid the roaring flames, regenerating endlessly.
'Just like the rumors.'
With that impression, the dragon hunter charged.
Asterio slammed his foot down with a thud and swung his sword. The blade didn't just push the air—it rent it apart. Facing the oncoming slash, Belnoa chose evasion.
But their escape route was already blocked by wyverns. The dragon hunter Asterio never relied solely on his own strength. He was a commander first, a warrior second.
A superhuman who'd survived centuries on the battlefield. Blind faith in one's power alone couldn't account for that. Use every tool at your disposal. That was Asterio's way—and his strength.
Crunch!
A wyvern bit into Belnoa.
It clamped onto their ankle, torso, legs. Of course, neither teeth nor claws could pierce the shadow armor or hold Belnoa for long.
They were just buying time.
A wyvern's head exploded from a kick, another slumped impaled on a spike-like claw. Yet they'd bought a second or so.
And Asterio's blade devoured that second.
The onslaught battered Belnoa. Amid the bursting wyverns caught in the strike, Belnoa crossed their arms to block. Naturally, they couldn't fully withstand it.
Crack, crunch-crunch.
The shadow armor peeled away as bones in Belnoa's arms snapped in rapid succession. Flung back by the force, Belnoa slammed into the wall behind them. The impacted stone cratered deeply.
"...Kuhk!"
Blood spewed from Belnoa's mouth, their body convulsing violently. Asterio stepped forward through the raining wyvern flesh.
Thud.
The ground trembled. Leaving afterimages, Asterio's sword scraped the earth before arcing skyward. Dirt erupted as the brutal slash tore toward Belnoa.
Second strike: Shred.
Facing the strike that pulverized everything in its path, Belnoa swung both hands. Claws mended with shadow lashed out. Ten wind blades seemed to cleave the assault—but...
Third strike: Pulverize.
The follow-up rent Belnoa's whirlwind apart. The instant Belnoa threw themselves aside, the cliff they'd been leaning against exploded.
'...What the.'
Couldn't get a read on this swordsmanship.
Not a blade for parrying, but for smashing. Yet not quite that either—that was the problem. Belnoa grimaced at the throbbing pain in their side.
Whoosh.
Slipping away like liquid, Belnoa tried to catch their breath—only for someone to burst through the dust right in their face. Belnoa widened their eyes.
"...!"
The dragon hunter, right up close.
He'd shed all armor except gauntlets and greaves. Charging with just a single greatsword, his speed outpaced even the shadow-cloaked Belnoa.
And wielding a blade that heavy without seeming sluggish.
The greatsword swung at point-blank. Belnoa ducked, but the trajectory snapped mid-arc, biting into their shoulder.
Crack!
Bone-shattering sound.
Skin tearing under the cleave's agony. Belnoa gritted their teeth and endured. They reached for the embedded blade—but Asterio released it, seizing Belnoa's head with both hands.
Crunch!
He smashed his knee into their skull.
Belnoa's head snapped back; Asterio followed with a gut kick, twisting and yanking the sword free. The wound tore wider, sparks flying in Belnoa's vision.
"...Hah."
Shoving Belnoa away, Asterio glanced at the blood dripping from his palms and knee, chuckling dryly. Even now, reshaping their armor to wound him—impressive tenacity.
"Remarkable."
As Belnoa clutched their shoulder, gasping raggedly, Asterio slowly raised his sword. Gazing at the youth on the verge of superhumanity, he gave a wry smile.
"Which is why I have to end you here."
Gripping the horizontal blade two-handed, Asterio narrowed his eyes. He wasn't holding back for show—he just didn't want to get caught in it.
"Fire."
A single word.
Immediately, massive flames plummeted from the sky—far beyond the wyverns' breath, vast and ferocious. The dragon's exhalation swallowed Belnoa.
Rooooaaar!
The ground melted under the blaze.
The earth bubbled into sludge; Belnoa's body charred within. They swung an arm, but the winds couldn't fully repel the flames. Their flesh had reached its limit.
"......"
Asterio tilted his head.
Shadow thorns pierced the flames, grazing his cheek. Foresight had saved him, but a counterattack now? Astonishing.
In retaliation, Asterio glared.
...Asterio reads flows of power.
With eyes wide, he traced the dragon's breath sweeping the ground. His greatsword dove into its currents, redirecting and amplifying them into greater fury.
That was Asterio's swordsmanship.
The dragon's breath followed his blade's path. No longer mere sword aura, but blazing red heat swirling around it.
Slash.
The aura sank into Belnoa's shoulder.
The cloaking shadows incinerated under condensed heat, carving a line from right shoulder to left ribs. Sizzle—the flesh burned. Then the heat-laden storm crashed in.
BOOM!
With a deafening roar, Belnoa smashed into the cliff.
Focus faded from Belnoa's eyes; their body pitched forward. As if waiting, low-flying wyverns pounced.
Crunch.
The pack tore into Belnoa like hyenas. Flesh and blood sprayed everywhere.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
Even giving your all doesn't guarantee reward. More often than not, it doesn't.
Belnoa sensed defeat.
They couldn't rise; sensation dulled.
Only intermittent crunches of something tearing their flesh and snapping bones. Flying chunks. Pouring blood. Fading consciousness.
...I have to go back.
But it seemed impossible.
"So it comes to this, after all."
A voice echoed in their mind.
Face-down on the ground, Belnoa rolled their eyes forward. There, crouched, sat the goddess.
Time, slowed to a halt.
In this space for divine bargains, the goddess smiled painfully. Her hand touched Belnoa's face.
"Child."
She said to Belnoa.
"What you desire hasn't changed a bit since that day, has it?"
Protecting that child.
And walking by their side.
Belnoa tried to speak, but no voice came. The goddess nodded as if she already knew.
"Yes, then..."
She pressed her forehead to Belnoa's.
"I'll ask about your resolve."
Eyes closed, foreheads touching.
When her eyes slowly opened, the lashes framed not starry night skies, but crimson irises.
Red dragon eyes stared into Belnoa.
"If you advance, you may never return. You'll lose much. But the losses will always be yours alone."
She smiled sadly.
"I'll take much from you. To grant the power you seek, I must. It won't end with just offering your flesh."
Far more. A path of no return.
Even so, the goddess asked.
"You might lose your reason. Become a beast. Or mere vermin. Even then, will you pray to me?"
Crimson eyes reflected in Belnoa's vision.
Red light filled the retinas.
"If you wish, this once, I can bear the full cost. But our contract ends. If that's your desire, so be it."
The goddess asked.
"Do you want to live, or advance?"
No matter the choice, she'd hold no grudge.
With compassion, the goddess posed the question.
At the crossroads, Belnoa closed then opened their eyes. One path easy and tempting. One rough and grueling. Eyes on both, Belnoa recalled a voice from days ago.
"Someday, you'll face a choice too."
"But remember."
"The prayer must come from you, not a god. Sometimes chase the ideal, not reality."
No long deliberation.
Belnoa chose the ideal over reality. The boy who'd compromised his life wouldn't now. Compromise would keep him from standing by her side, pursuing only ideals.
"......"
Belnoa opened their mouth.
No sound emerged.
Yet the words reached the goddess.
"Well..."
She smiled bitterly.
"So it comes to this."
Belnoa had chosen.
Affirming it, fragments of the holy grail bloomed; Belnoa's soul shone pure white. Cleansed of soot, it gleamed—proof of qualification fulfilled.
"Child."
Ascending to superhumanity meant readiness for the next step. The goddess whispered in Belnoa's ear.
"Then, make your wish."
If desiring the unreachable.
If craving a miracle.
If prepared to pay any price.
"God hears wishes. Performs miracles to grant desires. So, speak. Your wish."
Say this, the goddess whispered.
Her words were humanity's ancient cry to the heavens, the oldest prayer tongue. Humans always sought power to surpass trials, but gods replied:
"No power in the world comes without cost."
To such gods, humanity answered.
"I beseech you."
So grant me the power to fulfill my wish.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
Asterio exhaled deeply.
Wyvern corpses littered the area.
To resist this much in that condition—truly astounding. At full strength, he'd have braced to lose an arm.
'Tenacity, battle sense, technique...'
A genius with it all.
If missed here, next time it'd be a superhuman. Wiping blood from his cheek, Asterio stepped forward.
"Might've been a good fight."
If not for the great one's orders, he might've let them go. With regret, he approached the wyverns devouring Belnoa.
Crunch, munch.
Could leave it, but as a warrior, he wanted to grant a warrior's end. Dragging his sword, Asterio drew near.
Then halted.
Instinct screamed.
Superhuman senses rang alarms: don't approach that human. But no power flowed. Caught between instinct and reason for a split second—less than a second—change came.
Groan, grrr rumble.
The air quivered.
Space creaked; vibrations rippled through the earth.
Thud, thud.
The swarming wyverns stiffened, then slammed their heads to the ground. Bowing, wings folded, claws retracted, bodies trembling.
Skyborne wyverns plummeted.
Even the dragon gazing haughtily from above crashed pathetically.
Thud—a massive quake. The dragon shuddered, head bowed. Their gazes weren't on their master, the dragon hunter. They fixed on the bloodied human sprawled on the ground.
'...Why?'
These were dragons and wyverns he'd broken and tortured into fear. Yet they bowed not to him, but another. Submitting. To a dying human.
How. Why.
The questions were brief.
A dry wind blew, desert-like. In its currents, Asterio's eyes widened. He knew this flow.
Belial, the storm-summoning ancient dragon.
As the dragon hunter's eyes bulged at the familiar aura, Belnoa slowly rose from the blood pool. It flowed back into their body like reversal. Unnatural recovery.
Finally, amid the echoes, Belnoa opened their eyes.
Vertically slit crimson pupils fixed on the dragons; they couldn't meet the gaze, heads bowed low. Before primal terror, dragons couldn't resist. No matter how degraded, they recognized their true master.
The master of all dragons.
The first contractor of the god who forged them stood here. Before that colossal presence, dragons bowed.
【Show your pride.】 ⟨ Dragon Sovereign's Command ⟩
The goddess hovering by Belnoa smiled.
Though her voice wouldn't reach reality, the dragons all turned. Their eyes turned on dragon hunter Asterio. But not as gazes on their master.
"Hah."
Asterio spat.
"This is gonna suck, for real."
Facing the wyvern squadron—and dragon—charging at him, the dragon hunter let out a hollow laugh.