Victory and the Seventh Bow
[Kyaaak---!!!]
The Bone Dragon's head shattered into pieces, its agonized scream echoing like a haunting reverberation. But Adel paid no mind to the horrific wail and focused solely on the core embedded within.
[Adel.]
'I know. But they won't notice, will they?'
[Don't worry. It's not your Ga-ho at work—it's my power itself. There's no way they could detect it. Besides, the level of those who can even use Ga-ho falls far short. The gap in our realms of existence transcends mere strength.]
'Good.'
The moment he spotted the violet core, Kalderet spoke to him, and Adel seized it.
Shwaaaak……!!!
In that instant, black energy surged from the back of his hand, vanishing like smoke. The energy that swallowed the core took the form of a wolf with razor-sharp fangs.
Pasuk--!!
Once Kalderet's energy passed through the core, the blood-red violet glow faded, and the Bone Dragon's core turned ashen gray, like a massive stone. It crumbled to dust upon hitting the ground.
Kuoooong………!!!
Deprived of its core, the Bone Dragon collapsed on the spot like a felled tree trunk. The moment it hit the ground, the bones composing its body scattered limply in all directions.
Creeeak…….
Creeeak…….
As the Bone Dragon fell, the Yong-a Soldiers began breaking apart one by one, creaking like wooden puppets.
"……We won."
Only after the last Yong-a Soldier vanished did Adel finally catch his breath and murmur lowly. Yet in the ensuing silence, his voice rang clear.
Waaaaah---!!!
Waaaaah--!!!
As he straightened up, cheers erupted from the Nakrang hunters.
"Our victory!!"
"We took down the Bone Dragon!!!"
It was a battle where giving up wouldn't have been unreasonable.
"Long live Adel Temir!!!"
"The desert's greatest dragon hunter!!!"
"Long live---!!!"
But having turned that battle into a triumph, the hunters unanimously shouted the name of the protagonist, Adel. The prowess he displayed was no child's play, and for the Nakrang, specialists in hunting colossal beasts, slaying the Bone Dragon was nothing short of a monumental feat.
"It was called a Bone Dragon, but it was scarcely drake-level at best. Your praise is too much."
"Haha, no need to be modest, Adel. This hunt was unmistakably your doing. Without you, we never could have claimed it."
"Thanks to you all."
Adel gripped Hul's massive sword with both hands and handed it back to him.
"But this sword……."
Its dark blade gleamed iridescently despite its blackness. When Adel lifted the enormous sword—nearly as tall as himself—with both hands and offered it to Hul, the others couldn't help but gasp in astonishment.
"Indeed…… As Kasla said, you didn't merely pass through the desert's blessing. To not only receive a god's Ga-ho but form a contract with one……."
Hul stared at Adel's unbelievable strength, convinced.
"Ah, that sword was bestowed by Father. It's made of monster iron—extremely sturdy. Not quite treasury-worthy for Ulan, but a fine weapon nonetheless. Regrettably, I couldn't wield it properly."
Charing—
He gestured to the two swords at his waist as he spoke.
"As you see, I use dual blades…… And that one's too heavy for me."
Adel knew well the swords he indicated.
Bijo and Biga. Names ill-suited to Hul's cheerful nature, but if his memories served, Hul had named them himself.
"These swords were also granted by Father—my first blades as a child. Not treasury pieces, made from common desert materials, but I prefer them."
His words seemed to liken himself to something unremarkable.
'Brother Hul might have known his own fate all along.'
The brothers of the Ulan tribe would compete for the one seat as master of the desert. In central kingdoms with traditions of primogeniture, rival siblings plotting for the throne would be traitors, but the desert was different.
From start to finish, pure competition and struggle. Though it offered equal chances, peering within revealed that even voluntary withdrawal couldn't free one from the throne's grasp peacefully.
No matter who claimed the throne, the other brothers would be culled. Death was inevitable in that process.
In a way, the desert's war for kingship might be even fiercer than the central lands'.
'Of course, not by monsters…….'
Hul was an exceptional hunter who desired no fight with his brothers. That was likely why he followed and supported Merka, the firstborn despite being a bastard.
'In a sense, he's in a position like Yoran. But he chose a path for a better future.'
When Merka ascended the throne, even without his own support, such vicious customs would vanish, he believed.
'Even as a direct heir of Father's blood.'
"Shamefully, my strength couldn't properly wield that sword. Without Ga-ho, perhaps only Brother Merka could bear its weight. I'd likely be overwhelmed by it."
As Hul said, the sword's weight was several times that of ordinary blades. He had realized the moment Adel hefted it effortlessly.
"Father must have hoped I'd contract with Garon. To give me such a sturdy weapon……."
Hul gave a wry smile.
Boooong---!!
Though he claimed he couldn't use it, Hul couldn't hide his regret over the sword.
"But like its crude blade, I failed to meet Father's expectations. I merely carried it like a talisman."
He looked at Adel, who still held the sword.
"Without that sword in your hands, Brother, we couldn't have felled the Bone Dragon."
"Nonsense. You'd have taken it down bare-handed if need be."
"Haha, hardly."
Hul smiled wryly at Adel's reply.
"If you're willing, keep that sword, Adel."
"……Pardon?"
"I can't use it anyway. I considered giving it to Brother Merka, but his blades far surpass mine."
Hul compared it to his own sword as he spoke.
"The weight is one thing, but the length…… You're still growing, yet it's too unwieldy."
He eyed Adel.
"If you wish, we could melt it down and reforge it to fit you. Monster iron is precious ore. Or save it until you've grown more."
"Are you sure about giving this to me?"
"Father would approve. He'd rather see a weapon find a new master than be discarded. Well…… He'll know what it means to hand a weapon to you, so I might catch hell when we return."
Hien bestowed weapons on all his blood sons and adopted ones at age fifteen—along with the intent for them to compete.
Relinquishing such a sword to another meant, in essence, stepping back from the competition.
'If it's just a scolding, we'd be fortunate…….'
Hul knew it too. What Hien despised most was self-abandonment.
"If you say you're yielding because the opponent is a god's contractor, Father won't object."
He shrugged.
"You broke Father's record in the rite, claimed Kargon at the youngest age in the tribe, and now you've even contracted with Garon—something no brother has achieved."
Hul spoke as if proud.
"And this isn't the end. Once this is over, Father will grant you your sword. You can be proud. While the others got theirs at fifteen, you've done it at fourteen."
He regarded Adel.
"You always shatter everyone's expectations. I lack confidence against you. Even Brother Merka, whom I expect great things from, wouldn't find you an easy foe—is that too presumptuous?"
He held another hope.
"It's absurd, thinking a mere fourteen-year-old could be the strongest contender among us brothers."
Hul patted Adel's shoulder lightly.
"If you claim that seat, don't cast out your brothers. Though for now, I still believe Brother Merka is the one."
Passing on the sword from Hien was proof he acknowledged as much.
'This is enough.'
Adel hadn't expected to fully sway Nakrang or Hul from the start. Hul followed Merka, after all.
No need to rush. If he claimed the desert throne without clashing with Merka, they would follow naturally.
"The seventh bow."
"……Pardon?"
"If Father grants you a weapon for this deed rather than waiting till next year, ask for that. It suits you best."
Hul whispered secretly, intimately to Adel.
"Among Father's ten weapons, the seventh is the bow everyone desires but none can claim."
Thump.
In that moment, Adel's heart pounded fiercely. He already knew the bow Hul meant.
"Why is that?"
"Because the bow chooses its master."
Adel nodded unwittingly at his words.
The Variation Bow, Slraf.
'Haven't heard that name in ages…….'
Adel wore a nostalgic expression. He remembered it well.
"The bow chooses its master…… Fascinating."
"But tread carefully. You've always defied expectations, so I say this, but there's reason even Father and the brothers can't wield it."
A bow that chooses its master meant anyone else who grasped it might lose their life.
A dangerous yet potent double-edged sword.
'Certainly a useful one.'
Yet Adel felt strangely unmoved by Hul's words, as if it were no great weapon.
'Sorry, Brother, but I'm aiming elsewhere.'
Adel smiled innocently at Hul.
"Haha, so you're firmly on Brother Merka's side. Mentioning that bow sounds like you want me dead. No way it'd choose me."
"Haha, that's why I'm telling you. I wouldn't suggest it to some nobody. This is separate from Brother Merka—just my personal expectation."
Hul said.
"I've seen your eyes. You're not one to linger in the desert."
"Flattery. But as you say, the Bone Dragon might fall short for Father's notice."
Testing despite knowing no malice, Adel smirked.
"……Hm?"
"It's not over yet."
Hul tilted his head slightly at his words.
The necromancer who controlled the undead. Necromancy was powerful but demanded a heavy price. With the Bone Dragon's core destroyed, the backlash would have hit the sorcerer full force.
'That shock should keep them from moving easily.'
Adel slowly raised his head.
[Found him.]
In that instant, Kalderet spoke.