Reincarnation Quest (2)

A Red Dragon sheathed from head to tail in blood-red scales. A Blue Dragon with three horns jutting from its deep-azure frame. Both S-rank — and to the me of right now, they were nothing short of natural disasters.

Fortunately, the pair seemed to have little interest in this direction. For whatever reason, they were far too busy tearing into each other.

Even so, I couldn't afford to relax entirely.

KROOOAR—!

Every time the two dragons collided, a shockwave came rolling across the whole area — that alone was enough to knock me off my feet, and if a stray attack happened to catch me, I'd be packed off to the afterlife on the spot. Getting out of here as fast as my legs could carry me was clearly the wisest course.

And yet, halfway through turning to leave, I stopped short. It'd be a waste to just walk away.

This was a crisis, yes — but an opportunity all the same. When else was I going to watch two final-boss-class monsters go at it hammer and tongs? If I copied something in this window, it would keep paying dividends for a long, long time.

So I decided to stay close, risk be damned. I kept watch for a while, and sure enough, the chance I'd been waiting for arrived. The Blue Dragon whipped past in a blur, and long claw marks gouged themselves deep into the Red's wing. The beast loosed a pained roar.

"KROOOAR—!"

That had to sting. Go on, just one spell.

As if my thought had actually reached it, a crimson magic circle bloomed in midair, and dozens of fireballs came pouring down onto the Blue Dragon. It took the entire barrage with its bare body — and far from bursting into flame, it didn't carry so much as a singe mark.

Perfect.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cheered inwardly. The activation condition for [Copy] had just been met. The trait that had triggered the moment the Blue tanked a spell with its own hide: [Elemental Resistance]. A trait that drastically reduced damage from fire, ice, lightning, and the rest of the elemental family — and its rank, befitting a dragon, was S.

Unlike most skills and traits, [Copy] carried no rank of its own; in exchange, it came with a restriction called slots. With only a single slot open at the moment, I'd had no choice but to throw away [Superhuman Strength], the trait I'd taken off the Ogre. Even so, S-rank beat C-rank, no contest.

I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠love to copy a skill too, while I'm at it. The [Copy — Skill] slot was still sitting empty, after all. But I shook my head. Pointless — even if I stole one, I couldn't use it. The techniques dragons wielded were, almost without exception, high-order magic. Without a mana reactor of matching rank — without the [Core] trait — they either lost most of their force or refused to cast at all. Keep watching, and I might catch a non-magic skill, but that was a maybe at best. Which is to say, it wasn't worth continuing to gamble my life on.

So I walked away without a shred of regret. I was running flat out, speed still climbing, when I happened to glance back—

"KROOOAR—!"

The Red Dragon stood with its jaws stretched impossibly wide, gulping down the surrounding air and mana in great swallows. It was charging its Breath — one of the most devastating weapons in a dragon's arsenal. Apparently it had decided this stalemate was getting it nowhere, and meant to force the issue.

The Blue Dragon looked ready to answer in kind. Fzzt-crackle… Current gathered between the horns on its brow, swelling into an enormous sphere. The method differed, but that, too, was a Breath.

One slip and I get caught in the middle. When two Breaths of opposing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠elements met, they would clash and detonate — and the blast would be nothing short of colossal.

The instant that thought landed, I fixed my eyes forward and ran. Get as far away as possible. With S-rank [Elemental Resistance], I wouldn't die even if the blast swallowed me whole — but there was a world of difference between being caught at an explosion's core and being caught at its fringe.

So I sprinted, and sprinted, and kept on sprinting — until a detonation roared out behind me loud enough to rip my eardrums clean off.

KWAAAAAAAH—!

My vision flooded white in an instant. I had seen it coming, but it seemed dodging the explosion entirely had been beyond me.

Still, this I can take. Swallowed by the Breath as I was, the worst of it was a full-body sting of scalding heat. And with that, one thing was settled for good: at the very least, I would not be dying by fire, ice, or lightning. Plenty of hazards still remained, mind you — an arrow through the skull, melting in lethal poison, a keen blade opening my throat — but trimming the list down this much already counted for something.

I was still mulling that over when the white flash finally began to gutter out.

Hsssssss……

The next moment, where a lush green forest should have stood, a bleak wasteland stretched out before my eyes. Every last tree had burned down to lumps of charcoal. And the dragons responsible for all of it were already gone — winged off somewhere beyond sight.

What kind of circus is this, right out of the gate.

Absurd as it was, judged purely on results, things hadn't gone badly at all. I had walked away with a tremendously powerful trait, after all.

At some point, the tutorial had come to an end as well. Notifications began printing out one after another.

Clothes first. The outfit I'd been wearing had been reduced to little more than rags by the Breath's aftermath. I changed into the uniform, then turned my attention to the quest that followed.

Before long, a small arrow flickered to life at the edge of my vision, and I set off along it. I walked for a good while, and gradually the scorched, blackened scenery began to take on patches of green once more — I had made it beyond the Breath's radius, it seemed.

That was when I made out the faint silhouette of a person ahead. He must have spotted me at the same moment, because he came straight over and offered a greeting.

"Well met, friend."

"Hello there."

A man who looked to be about my age — dressed, no less, in the very same Dragon Slayer Academy uniform as mine. I returned the greeting lightly and studied him a little more closely. Huh. Never seen this one before.

Even for me, with every last character in Dragon Slayer Academy lined up in my memory, this was an unfamiliar face. A new character. Could this, too, be an effect of the EX-rank quest?

His class looks to be warrior. Judged on first impression alone, he was a textbook protagonist out of a martial-arts novel. It wasn't just the look of him, either — a sword hung at his hip, and his speech carried that old-fashioned martial formality. At the same time, he brought to mind the model student every class seems to have exactly one of: irritatingly handsome, to boot, with a manner at once gentle and self-assured.

The man was observing me in turn, and at the sight of our matching uniforms, a spark of interest lit both his eyes.

"Are you perhaps a new student?"

"I am. You as well?"

"Well I never — to think fate would deal such a remarkable coincidence."

Beaming, the man pointed at his uniform tie. Pinned to it, same as mine, sat a white pin — the mark of the same year. Perhaps that was why his introduction carried on all the more warmly.

"This one is called Go Hyeon-woo. We may share a class year, but I suspect I am somewhat younger than you, elder brother. Pray, speak at your ease."

"I'm Kim Ho."

"Brother Kim, then. A meeting like this must be fate — will you not walk with me?"

"Works for me."

If we ran into more monsters on the road, we'd waste time for nothing — but as luck would have it, this fellow carried a sword, which meant any obstacle could be cut through with ease.

As we traveled together, I kept a closer eye on Go Hyeon-woo. His stride was as precise as if laid out with a ruler, and not one of his movements, however small, carried a grain of waste — the mark of long years spent grinding himself down in training. He'll make A-Rank without breaking a sweat. With my help behind him, S-Rank would be within reach. Perhaps even beyond. Still, I decided to hold my verdict. We hadn't even enrolled yet — it was far too early to start deciding who to back and who to raise.

That said, there was something else curious about Go Hyeon-woo's getup. At his hip hung an iron sword of the cheapest, most common make; across his back he carried a long object rolled up tight in cloth. I threw the question out as it came to me.

"That thing on your back — is it a sword?"

"Sharp eyes. It is this one's sacred relic."

"Then why is it wound up so tight?"

Had he merely rolled it in cloth, I'd have let it pass — but on top of that he'd heaped on iron chains until the thing was all but under seal. As if to proclaim, loudly, that he had no intention of ever drawing it.

Go Hyeon-woo let out a wry laugh and stroked the iron sword at his hip.

"To my shame, I have not yet earned the right. Until that day comes, this iron sword shall be my companion."

"Is that so."

"But fret not on my account. Thus far, I have yet to find my match. Though what awaits at a place called Dragon Slayer Academy, I cannot say."

Boasting like that, he clearly had no small confidence in his own skill.

Go Hyeon-woo gestured back the way I had come. "By the by, Brother Kim — did you come from that direction?"

"Why?"

"I glimpsed a pair of ancient dragons wheeling about in those skies."

"They were there until just now. Gone now."

"Ah, it seems I was a step too late."

Deep disappointment clouded Go Hyeon-woo's face. Then, as if a thought had struck him, he tilted his head.

"Did you see something, Brother Kim?"

"I saw as much as I needed to."

"Oho."

I recounted the two dragons' battle as factually as I could — with roughly two percent of seasoning stirred in. Go Hyeon-woo listened with his eyes shining like a child drinking in tales of heroes' exploits. Then another question seemed to occur to him.

"Then you saw the beasts from fairly close range, did you not?"

"Pretty close, yeah. Why?"

"Only that you look far too whole."

Two dragons trading blows at close quarters, Breaths and all — he should have caught at least a sliver of the aftermath. So how was there not a single hair out of place on him?

I answered with a grin. "I have a few tricks of my own. Same as that longsword of yours."

"As expected. They say this world brims with masters as countless as grains of sand — and here I am, meeting one in you already, Brother Kim. Should the chance arise, I would beg a lesson or two from you."

"Later. Let's get on that train first."

"A sound plan. Let us make haste."

And with vigorous strides, Go Hyeon-woo took the lead.