The Variant Drake's End
He halted the measured stride he'd been using to balance the immense weight of the Executioner strapped across his back and broke into a full sprint. Thud. Thud. The colossal footsteps boomed like an ogre's charge. From beyond them came another earth-shaking roar in answer. Monster and monster drew closer, slowly facing off.
“Hah…?”
The faint glow of firelight began to appear. Ian didn't hesitate. He hurled the spare longsword he'd brought, then exploded forward at full speed, following right in the blade's wake.
BOOM!
“Graaah!”
The Drake, which had been heating up to unleash its breath, snapped its jaws shut in panic. But it couldn't negate the impact of the flying longsword smashing against its closed mouth. The moment the beast flinched, Ian slid beneath its massive bulk.
“Light?”
After a light roll that brought him back to his feet, what Ian saw was radiance spilling from behind the Drake. His assumption that the creature would dwell in absolute darkness crumbled instantly.
“Hup!”
Rather than chase the mystery, he focused on the duty before him. He swung the Executioner at the bewildered Drake's tail.
Lightly.
It was a necessary compromise. If he dealt a serious wound in one blow, the beast might flee. He couldn't allow that.
CLANG!
“Hah…?”
He had expected recoil, but the tail showed no biological reaction whatsoever. For a brief moment, he was speechless. The Drake twisted its body with brute force, determined to crush the insect invading its nest. The passage around them began to crack.
Ian shook the numbness from his hands and threw himself toward the light.
“Whew…”
The cavern was so vast it could have been the Drake's personal domain. At its center, a colossal crystal blazed, bathing the entire chamber in brilliant light.
Steadying his breath, Ian claimed the best position before the monster could emerge. The beast that had smashed through the collapsing tunnel without concern finally revealed its true form.
It resembled a Drake at first glance, yet it was nothing like the flight-specialized variants he knew. Thick limbs, a powerful tail, and a heavy body. Claws built for digging through stone and a thick cranial carapace. Even a secondary cornea that slid over its eyes the instant they met light.
“Flashbang's useless, then.”
Contrary to Ian's expectation that it would be vulnerable to light, this variant had eyes fully adapted to brightness.
“Grrrr…”
Wary after the blow that had rattled its skull, the beast refused to carelessly lunge at prey so small it wasn't even worth swallowing. Ian studied every movement and reached a cold conclusion.
If I don't kill it here, it'll become a catastrophe.
This was the first time he'd sensed intelligence rather than mere instinct from a monster. Whether it was due to the mutation or the influence of the mysterious crystal, even he couldn't say.
“Graaaah!”
Perhaps enraged that its breath had been thwarted once, the Drake charged with raw physical power. At thirty meters long, its sheer size was weapon enough.
Instead of dodging, Ian sprinted straight at it. He positioned himself so the crystal lay in the path of the tail's swing, bracing for an unpredictable counter. He managed to evade the tail by running at an angle, but he couldn't avoid the left foreleg that came whipping after it.
He swung the Executioner to meet the foreleg. The recoil sent him flying toward the crystal. It was an imperfect foothold, but it would serve. Gathering every ounce of strength in his body, he kicked off the crystal.
KWAAAANG!
The cavern trembled beneath the knight's leap. Massive power surged along the Executioner's edge. The Drake instinctively guarded with its hardest part.
BANG!Crack.
“Huh…”
The footing had been unstable, yet Ian never imagined a full-power strike would only leave a faint fissure across the creature's cranial armor.
“Grrrr…”
“Attack!”
Behind the Drake's savage roar, as it bared its fangs at Ian who hung momentarily in the air from the recoil, came a familiar dwarf's voice.
BOOM! BOOM!
The artillery barrage began. It couldn't pierce scale or hide, but the concussive force was devastating.
“The leg!”
“Uoooooh!”
Using the gap the dwarf gunners had created, Ian regained his stance and shouted to the charging Bardin. One word was enough. Having smashed through the collapsed tunnel, Bardin understood instantly.
He spun with his massive warhammer. The hammerhead, carrying the full force of his body, slammed into the right foreleg's Achilles tendon.
CRUNCH!
The warrior's rage-fueled strike punched through scale and flesh, collapsing the limb.
“Ha-ratcha!”
Slon, who had been waiting for his chance, threw a rope with expert precision. It coiled around the staggering Drake's left horn.
“Pull!”
“Uaaaaagh!”
The minimal crew needed to operate their equipment, along with Slon, hauled on the rope with everything they had. The impact of Ian's strike, the artillery bombardment, and Bardin's crushing blow had completely destroyed the Drake's balance. The beast that had once viewed them as nothing but food was forced to reveal its weakness.
The instant Ian's feet touched the ground, he dropped into a low stance.
“Hoo…”
In that moment, crisis had become opportunity. He pushed his concentration to the absolute limit. There would be no second chance. All that remained was the pure intent to cut his enemy down, worthy of the master of the weapon called Executioner.
Cut.
The moment the thought formed, his body had already launched forward. As his vision accelerated violently, the world around him slowed instead. Amid the stacked layers of motion, a single point seized his entire focus.
Cut.
The dark line drawn by the Executioner crossed that point. In that instant, the world sped up again.
KWAAAAAAA—!
A sonic boom erupted in the space behind the distance Ian had carved through. Countless particles of dust filled the cavern, but Slock and the dwarves pulling the rope could not tear their eyes from the sight of the Drake's neck and the space itself splitting apart.
THUD.
The body that had been stubbornly holding itself upright collapsed the moment its head was severed. The dust Ian had raised and the dust from the Drake's fall merged, completely blinding the subjugation force.
Tension so thick it stung their eyes kept them frozen as they waited several long minutes for the corpse to appear. When the dust finally settled, their enemy was clearly visible.
“We won…”
“We won!”
“Uoooooh!”
“Careful! Hey! Watch it over there!”
“Every single scale is precious!”
“Send the organs and meat to the incinerator!”
Numerous light injuries, zero fatalities. Having achieved a truly miraculous result, Ian lay sprawled like a corpse inside a temporary tent.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a bit languid from dopamine overload. Don’t worry.”
Growth found in the midst of crisis. His body, having dumped every last ounce of power alongside the dopamine rush of victory and evolution, had entered a complete shutdown.
“I don’t know what that means, but I’m glad you’re fine.”
“Hahahahaha! Ian! O great warrior!”
Despite the two warriors’ desire to rest after their ordeal, the hearty laughter of the king who had come running at news of the great victory filled the tent.
“Your Majesty… please…”
“Ah, don’t worry. I’m a dwarf who knows proper etiquette.”
While Bardin covered his face in embarrassment, Lindur pulled up a chair beside the reclining Ian and sat down.
“Thanks to you, we won without a single casualty.”
“If you’re grateful, could you at least let me rest? I’m only human, you know…”
“That may be true, but I still wanted to give a gift to the one who took the Drake’s head. The blacksmiths have caught fire with enthusiasm.”
The honor of presenting a gift to a great warrior, combined with the underground kingdom’s reopening, had roused the dormant craftsmen.
“Is this unrelated to our trade agreement?”
“Of course. This is a personal gift for Ian, not for Wintergard or the Glakan Kingdom.”
“In that case, I’d like a shield made from the Drake’s carapace.”
“You don’t seem like a shield user?”
As Lindur said, Ian did not use shields. But the greatest holy knight he knew had.
“It’s a gift and a bribe for my companion. I also have a favor to ask of her.”
“Hmm. If she’s someone you’d call a companion, that’s fine. I’ll pass the request to the blacksmiths. Rest well!”
Having finished his business, Lindur left as swiftly as promised. Silence returned to the tent.
“What was that about?”
Yet even that silence could not restrain Bardin, whose warrior’s curiosity had been ignited.
“You’re hardly in a position to criticize your own king.”
“Ahem. Can’t be helped. That’s just how we dwarves are.”
“I would have said ‘I don’t know!’ outright.”
Spatial cleavage. It was a realm even Ian had not anticipated. Though he had grown, it was not a level he had reached through understanding but a coincidence born from perfect timing.
“Hmm. I’ll need to train harder.”
“Pardon the intrusion!”
While Bardin pondered new possibilities as a warrior thanks to Ian, Slock entered the tent.
“Make sure to tell your fellow dwarves they need to learn some manners around exhausted people.”
“Ugh. Understood.”
“Hm? Something wrong?”
Paying the puzzled Slock no mind, Ian sat down on the chair Lindur had used.
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“About what?”
“I’m going to follow you.”
“Is that allowed?”
When Ian looked at Bardin in surprise, the warrior merely shrugged. Since cultural exchange had already been decided, there was no problem. Besides, unless it threatened the entire race, the king could not restrict a dwarf’s personal freedom.
“I may only have one arm, but I can proudly declare that when it comes to civil engineering, I’m the best among all dwarves!”
“I’ll vouch for that. There may be others who can compete, but you’re the undisputed best.”
“Thanks. And now both of you, get out.”
Gratitude was one thing, but exhaustion was another. After receiving back-to-back visitors, Ian finally issued an eviction order. Only after the two dwarves left with awkward expressions could he finally sleep.
In the hushed audience chamber of the imperial palace, only Duke Kane Adrahan stood with his head bowed. It was the place where the empire’s nobles gathered to meet their sovereign.
“Begin.”
The current Emperor of the Carnesia Empire, Claven’s father, and the one who reigned supreme. At Duclain von Carnesia’s command upon entering the chamber, Kane raised his head with proper decorum.
“Do you know why I have summoned you?”
“I believe it concerns the dwarf kingdom.”
Though it appeared there was no surveillance, the emperor’s eyes were everywhere in the unseen places. Kane was certain the reason for this audience was the emergence of the dwarf kingdom rather than any connection between Wintergard and House Adrahan.
“That is one reason. It is also because of Grand Duke Ian Wintergard.”
“He has committed no offense. Moreover, doesn’t Your Majesty already know what feats he accomplished over the past ten years?”
Achievements unknown to the public. Ian’s party had never been a simple band of adventurers. Though they called themselves that, those who had watched them, Kane included, knew exactly what they had achieved.
“Dragon.”
Kane’s expression hardened at the word.
“From his conduct over those ten years, I know that unless someone draws a blade against him first, he will never turn his sword against the empire. But a dragon is different.”
The strongest creature on the continent. A monster among monsters capable of erasing an entire nation by itself. The emperor was pointing out that such a being now belonged to a single individual.
“Hah. You’re lying, Your Majesty.”
Similar in age, elevated to duke at similar times, and one of them now emperor. They were allies bound not by absolute loyalty but by a modest trust. After facing each other for so long, Kane had finally spotted a crack that had never shown before.
He realized the emperor had another reason for seeking Ian.
“I will not ask for that reason. I will personally tell the Grand Duke to come to the imperial palace.”
Curiosity was inevitable, yet he chose not to press. It was surely related to the successor who had not yet been chosen.