Paladin Of The End Vol 3.2 Chapter 4

Paladin Of The End Vol 3.2 Chapter 4

He looked exactly like most people’s conception of a wicked dragon, stretched out on a mountainous expanse of the dwarves’ treasure.

He had obviously strong jaws, twisted horns, and a thick and supple neck. His body was covered with tough scales, and from it grew a pair of large, membranous wings. The sharp, swordlike protrusions running down his spine became progressively smaller as they continued all the way to the tip of his long, elegant tail. They were as beautiful as they were fierce. I could see a brilliant mind in his golden eye shining in the darkness, and in the same body resided a nature that was horrifically vicious and savage.


“Well? Are you not going to name yourself? Struck speechless, I suppose.”

He was so imposing that none of us dared move. My throat felt raw. My heart pounded at a terrific rate. Instinct, reason, and all my senses told me to run, told me that an overwhelming predator was right in front of me!

I acknowledged that terror inside my heart. Fear and anxiety are inner monsters that grow the more you deny them, the more you avert your eyes from them. If I couldn’t acknowledge the frightened, cowardly part of myself, if I averted my eyes from it and pretended to be strong, the fear would grow even more vicious in the darkness. What was necessary for confidence was not swagger; what was necessary for bravery was not pretending to be strong. Everything begins with acceptance, I remembered Mary telling me. She was never disloyal to herself. She embodied all of this.

“Oh?”

I had to admit it. I was scared of this thing. I was hopelessly scared, and I wanted to run away. Taking conscious control of my breathing, which had become quick and shallow, I slowly inhaled and exhaled. I straightened myself up, raised my chin, tightened my abdominal muscles. Then I looked up at the dragon and asked him, “Shouldn’t you give your own name before asking the name of another?”

I was incredibly frightened. But I had decided to accept that and not run regardless.

“Hmm.”

The dragon looked down upon me, and with a noise that was neither a growl nor speech, it breathed miasma-tainted breath out of the corners of its mouth. The hot miasma belching out could have been mistaken for black smoke.

“It seems you are not the common ruck seeking to plunder my treasure.”

Then, stopping to consider, the dragon murmured.

“Of course, you did claim the head of this Scarabaeus leading the mountain demons and put them to flight. There was never the possibility of you being average warriors.”

Seemingly satisfied, the dragon continued.

“In that case, I shall oblige. I am the Gods’ Sickle, Calamity’s Sickle. Born with the light of the final stars, living more moons than the moon itself, I am the king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava—”

The dragon lazily got up. The miasma blasting out heat was so thick now I was almost coughing.

“Valacirca.”

The dragon as old as the gods named himself, spreading his wings with commanding presence.

“Now answer, small one.”

He had given his name in the fixed style I often heard in ancient poetry. I had to respond in kind.

“My grandfather was the Wandering Sage, my father the War Ogre of Leo, and my mother Mater’s Daughter.” I placed my hand on my heart, raised my voice, and named myself. The foul-dragon’s mouth twitched slightly. “People call me the Torch of the Borderlands and the Faraway Paladin. Disciple of Gracefeel, goddess of flux, I am William G. Maryblood.” I gave my name with pride. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dragon of the age of the gods.”

I made my greeting not too polite and not too informal, and gave it with my head held high. The dragon was silent for a moment.

“Heh... heheh...”

He suddenly started laughing in a low voice, and then spoke at an equally low volume.

“What a coincidence. Familiar names.”

“Familiar?”

“If they had reached me before the demons, it is possible we could have fought together, shoulder to shoulder.”

The dragon seemed to be looking somewhere into the distance. Perhaps he was seeing the Great Collapse of two centuries ago. Gus had said it, too: persuading the dragon to join our own forces was a possible strategy.

“Heheh. I detect a faint smell of the god of undeath. And you are a disciple of the torch. Yes, that explains why the ages don’t add up.”

With just that little information, Valacirca seemed to have guessed my circumstances.

“Now, then. We have talked long enough about names and histories.”

“Yes.” I glanced at my allies. While I was talking, they seemed to have managed to come to terms with the threat posed by the dragon. I was sure they’d contribute. I composed my breathing and prepared for battle.

“Faraway Paladin. Would you be interested in bringing me under your umbrella?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

◆

My mind went blank for a moment.

“Why are you so surprised?”

The tone of the dragon’s voice was at odds with his words and seemed to contain a taunting grin.

“You have overthrown the mountain demons. I have lost the force I was dependent upon. It would be dangerous and restricting even for me to remain isolated. You must see the necessity for me to seek other forces in which to to place my trust.”

There was a jingling sound. In his claws, Valacirca had scooped up some of the countless pieces of treasure scattered all over the room. He looked at it lovingly and with great enjoyment.

“I have my own motives, of course. I will demand a considerable price. But fear not. I have no intention of deliberately butting heads with a champion of your caliber.”

The dragon laughed as he demanded treasure.

It was by no means a bad offer in the short term. The power of a dragon was vast. He would be a great asset to have on our side. However—

“In fifty years’ time, you’ll kill me, destroy everything, and shift your loyalty to someone else,” I told him dryly. The beetle-demon had been killed, squashed like a bug. “I’ve seen how you do things.”

The foul-dragon was silent. His body trembled. Just as I braced myself for an attack, he roared with laughter.

“Very good, very good! Exactly!”

His laughter slowly died down. He tilted his head, and a sinister grin spread over his face.

“But don’t you agree? It’s still a good deal...”

I fell silent in spite of myself. He had a valid point.

If I maintained the strength to pose a risk to Valacirca as I protected him as part of our forces, it would give the dragon a reason to team up with me. He might serve me relatively loyally, relatively lazily, at least to the extent that he wouldn’t be hostile. In that case, was there actually a need to engage in a fight right now with desperately low chances of victory? After all, the god of undeath had said that my chances of winning would increase with time. Wouldn’t it be better to leave this in the hands of my future self?

“Let me ask you. How much of a reason do you really have to fight me?”

It was like the devil was whispering into my ear. It was easy to tell that Valacirca had probably made this suggestion fully understanding the effect his words would have on me.

“Have I personally harmed anyone close to you? No. Are you a man of such greed you would go after my treasure? I doubt it. And I can see clearly that the fame of slaying a dragon means nothing to you. When I started to awaken, you came here with determination in your heart and a spear in your hand because you thought me a threat to innocent people. Didn’t you?”

Valacirca whispered.

“You see? The threat is gone. I will bow my head to you...”

None of my allies could say a thing. This development was so much to process, they couldn’t even gather their thoughts to speak. My mind too was overloaded. What was this? What the hell was this? In some part of my mind, I’d been thinking of Valacirca as a creature on a rampage with nothing more to him than his strength. Did that describe me more than him?

“Now choose, Faraway Paladin, hero of the modern age.”

A shiver ran down my spine. His golden eye pierced me.

“Will it be peace... or else, battle and death?”

As hot miasma hissed out of both corners of his mouth, the question posed by Calamity’s Sickle echoed throughout the Great Cavern and filled it with dread.

◆

I’d planned to fight the dragon. But the dragon was trying to bow its head to me.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Does my history with the dwarves bother you? Certainly, I held the demons as my masters, fought the dwarves, and gained treasure from it, but that is the way of hired work, is it not? If my new masters say that they cannot restore the mountain while poison fills the air, then I will gladly move elsewhere.”

He was scheming, of course. He spoke rationally of the risks and costs, and occasionally a malicious smile crossed his face and he said things including:

“You are a hero, are you not? Show you have what it takes to handle me.”

This utterly unanticipated development had my mind on the verge of chaos. Logically speaking, what the dragon was saying made sense. It sounded correct from the viewpoint of efficiency and risk management. If I avoided battle with the dragon and took him under my umbrella, we would be safe for the time being, and I could also increase the strength of our forces. But I had a bad feeling about this. I had the feeling I was being tricked, but I didn’t know exactly how. What was it? What was I overlooking?

“I am not known for my patience. Choose swiftly.”

The dragon chose that moment to pressure me. My mind spiraled faster towards chaos. Should I reject the dragon’s words? But that would be the start of a desperate battle to the death. Then should I accept them? But that would be just what he wanted me to do. The same thoughts spiraled around and around inside my head. I was trapped in an endless circle.

I’d felt this somewhere before. It was my previous world. I had the feeling that I’d done something similar while huddled up in that dark room.

I let out a small groan. Memories flashed through my mind: a dark room, the light of a monitor. Myself, unable to take that step forward. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Restlessness burned my chest. Time was being frittered away. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I groaned. I shed tears. I was still squandering time. What could I do to find salvation? What was I supposed to choose? What was I meant to do? I didn’t even know that anymore.

Someone, someone, anyone, please...

The memory of having come to an end without making a choice accelerated my panic. Something black and sticky started to crawl out of a pit deep inside my heart.

What do I do? What? What? What—

My breath became shallow. My arms and legs were cold and stiff. And yet my back was clammy with sweat. I had reached peak confusion.

That was the moment. I felt as if someone had placed one of their small hands softly on the top of my head.

My neck jerked back to look upwards. Of course, I couldn’t see anything there. There was just the dark roof of the cavern. But whether it was coincidence or inevitability, looking up made me take deeper breaths. As I breathed deeply, oxygen entered my body and raced through my blood. Refreshing air blew into my blunted mind, and as my senses began to function once again, her words came back to me.

— The oath you made that day belongs to the two of us.

Of course. I was already given salvation. By her. And I had sworn an oath to her, an oath that was more important to me than anything else.

— Fear thou not, for I am with thee.

My heart thumped loudly.

— Be not dismayed, for I am thy god.

My hazy thoughts started to become clear.

— I will strengthen thee; I will help thee; I will keep thee with my flame.

Heat once again surged into my body, which tension and confusion had made sluggish and cold. It was like a warm flame had flared to life within my chest. If the thing called courage could take a form, perhaps this was it.

“Oh...”

Sparks of insight fired inside my head. It was fascinating how fast my mind was ticking now. Logic pieced itself together.

Using his powerful presence and pressure to cause me to lose my cool and make bad decisions was all part of the strategy of Valacirca’s offer. As long as I didn’t succumb to that, the rest would be easy.

First, I turned around.

“Menel, Al, Reystov, Ghelreis.”

Menel had already nocked a mithril arrow onto his bow. He’d recovered most of them in the hall. Al also had his halberd in hand, and his stance showed he could spring into action at any time. Reystov’s hand was resting on the handle of his sword, poised to unsheathe it at lightning speed. And the sight of Ghelreis’s sturdy body and massive shield was very reassuring.

“The result of this discussion will decide everything. Be prepared.”

They all nodded, with the faces of warriors who had steeled themselves for battle. I turned back to face the dragon.

“Oh?”

Valacirca spoke in a low growl. Maybe I looked quite different to him as well now.

“So you’re decided. Then state your choice, Faraway Paladin. Peace or death?”

“I won’t be choosing anything,” I said, rebuffing the question the dragon had taken such pleasure in asking. ”You’ll be the one making a choice, Valacirca.”

◆

The foul-dragon twitched.

“Oh? And what will I be choosing?”

Before answering his question, I took a step towards him and looked up at him. The dragon which I had thought of as like a school building now looked at least a bit smaller. The size I had seen before was probably false, an illusion created in my mind by intimidation and pressure.

“Whether you will change, or not.”

I put the question to him directly. This was the first time the foul-dragon’s eyes went wide.

Once I thought about it with cold logic, it was simple, really. Bringing the powerful foul-dragon under my command appeared logical at a glance, but when I thought about how someone only superficially obedient would act, it really was nothing but a fool’s choice.

Say that I did bring Valacirca into my forces. What would he do after that? Obediently do what I say? Indulge himself in sleep peacefully? As if. I would kill him before long, because I saw him as a threat. So if not that, then what?

Obviously, he would be at work behind the scenes.

To raise the value of his own existence, to make sure that he wouldn’t be discarded, the foul-dragon would bring wars to me, make enemies for me, and continue to create conflict. And what’s more, they would be brutal, large-scale battles that required the power of a dragon. I wouldn’t be able to abandon Valacirca then. And as I continued to seek the dragon’s power and fight alongside him, the dragon would gradually become an emblem of vital importance. That would make it even more impossible for me to dispense with him. To ensure his safety until the day he flew away from me, he would eat away at me and the entire area around me while calling himself my subordinate.

I couldn’t imagine that someone like me would be able to control the machinations of a dragon living since time immemorial. I would have to stick with the dragon, for the sake of morale as well, even while knowing he was working against me. It would be like a nasty drug.

“Let’s be clear. The ‘peace’ you refer to is ‘a restricted peace between you and me’. It’s by no means ‘my peace,’ and it isn’t ‘peace for the innocent people,’ either. Am I wrong?”

When he heard that question, the dragon laughed as if he found this so very entertaining.

“Kaha... khahaha... khahaha! Precisely. You are correct.”

The elder dragons that had lived since the age of the gods were some of the closest creatures to the Words of Creation. And the power of Words was weakened by lies and untruths. Although the dragon might try to trick me, if I asked him a straight question, he would never tell a lie.

“In that case, I’m certain about my condition. You must change.”

“Heheh. Change how?”

“If you will swear to change your fanatical, scheming nature of always seeking war—”

I stared straight into his golden eye.

“If you will say you truly seek my protection—”

If he could say he would live in peace—

If he could say he would no longer seek bloodshed except when necessary, and express a desire to reign in his frenzy and live with the good gods—

“Then I swear on the god of the flame that I will protect you. As long as there is life in me, I will guard you from any and all adversaries.”

It made no difference whether he was a dragon or a person. Wherever there was someone in true sorrow, I would offer them a helping hand. Wherever there was evil that would harm the innocent, I would fight them. That was what I had vowed that day to my silent, black-haired god.

“That’s the way I live my life.” I had decided that it would be. “Now choose! Will it be a change of heart, or else death?! I await your answer, dragon!” I shouted my question to him.

A cloud of heat and miasma rose up.

“Excellent!”

The first word from his mouth was praise.

“You have answered the Dragon’s Riddle well, Faraway Paladin.”

His wings spread to their full extent. He raised his chin.

“You are not a wretched savage wielding power without purpose. Neither are you a crafty coward out to save his own skin. You possess courage and wisdom and are prepared to follow the path you believe to be right! Marvellous! You truly are the successor to those heroes who preceded you!”

The relaxed, lazy posture the dragon had shown until now was gone. He was no longer giving the slightest impression that he was treating me as a curiosity.

“I acknowledge you as a true champion.”

Before me stood a great dragon as old as the gods.

“With that in mind, changing my nature is out of the question!”

The dragon roared.

“I am Valacirca! The Gods’ Sickle, Calamity’s Sickle! The king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava! Poison exists to kill and maim, lava exists to seethe and boil! War! Disaster! Decorations awarded! Treasure! Death! Virgin sacrifices! Heroes! What is a dragon without these?!”

The god of undeath, Stagnate, had referred to the foul-dragon Valacirca as worldly and materialistic. I did think that description was fitting. He had worldly attachments, and what’s more, the things to which he was attached—money, conflict, safety, sleep—all seemed to be what could be called basic needs. However, there was a true nature behind that.

“I am Valacirca! The strongest and oldest dragon, feared even by the gods!”

It was to stay true to himself as a dragon, to keep on living his life as a dragon with burning intensity. These were the out-of-place thoughts going through my head as the dragon roared at me loudly enough to make my skin tremble.

“Hero, and the warriors who follow you: It will please me to bury you here, and append another page to my chronicle of terror. And it will please me to be slain here, and be spoken of in tales of valor across the four corners of the world.”

His fangs snapped and clicked. The enormous mass of tough muscle before me began to move. Negotiations had broken down. The dragon had refused to reform. The only way forwards now was battle.

“Now, if you are prepared to be incinerated to your souls by dragonflame and vanish completely from the eternal cycle, you have my permission! Test yourselves against me!”

Amid all this, for some reason, I was a little bit excited.

Dragon slaying. Charging at a fearsome dragon, relying only on the steel in your very own hand. Dragon slaying! It wasn’t in my nature to romanticize battle as much as Blood; at least, I thought it wasn’t. But this situation had some kind of irresistible draw to it. Valacirca was an opponent who was unquestionably deserving of my respect, and he was going to be the strongest enemy I’d faced so far. He was worth challenging. He was worth fighting!

“I am the Faraway Paladin, William G. Maryblood! Have at you!”

Naming myself like a knight in an old chivalric romance, I charged at the foul-dragon as old as the gods.

◆

In the dim light of the Great Cavern, Valacirca swung his claws at me.

“Kah!!”

“Acceleratio!”

With a Word, I accelerated straight towards the foul-dragon. I ducked his sword-like claws and his fingers which were each as thick as a human’s torso, and pressed forwards towards him. A low sound accompanied his tree trunk-like arm swinging above my head. That one attack could have taken my head off.

The stereotype of large creatures being sluggish is a falsehood. Large creatures are strong and fast just by virtue of their size. The length of each of their steps is on a different level, and each swipe of their arms covers an entirely different range. The same goes for their ability to withstand attacks. Being stabbed with a thumbtack would probably be a fatal wound to an ant, but do the same to an elephant and the tack would be unlikely to even break the skin.

In that sense, Valacirca was simply strong. When it came down to it, he was hopelessly physically strong. And I was well aware of it.

“Lamina!”

Leaping in close, I extended a blade of mana beyond Pale Moon’s physical blade and thrust it towards what appeared to be an old wound on his side. However, the dragon twisted, and my blade met resistance, blocked by the dragon’s scales.

Dragonscale...

— If you’re going to fight him, I’d focus on his old wounds. A dragon’s scales are tough. I’ll tell you now, I doubt even Blood could have cut to the skin through dragonscale.

Gus’s words came back to me. Cutting through dragonscale would have been difficult even for Blood. But I wasn’t just going to follow in Blood’s footsteps forever!

I took a quick breath and roared. I made the muscles throughout my body work in concert, transferring force from my feet to my knees, then my thighs, twisting my body at the hips to transfer force to my shoulders, my arms, my wrists. Summoning every last bit of force as expertly as I could, I pushed my obstructed blade in harder.

“Gnng?!”

Valacirca groaned. I felt the unmistakable sensation of the blade piercing the dragon’s massive, tough scales. I kept going.

“Acceleratio!”

A roar of surprise accompanied an arm lashing fiercely out at me. I avoided the strike as I accelerated with Pale Moon still embedded in the dragon’s skin. Clutching my spear tightly with my whole arm, I ran alongside Valacirca, using my blade of mana to slice a horizontal wound into the dragon’s side. From there, I headed straight for a small gap between the rows of giant furnaces, hoping to escape, but Valacirca was not one to miss that.

“Hng... Hahaha... So you strike through the defense of dragonscale! Perfect, bracing stimulation!”

Behind me, I heard him roar out and then draw in a large breath. He was surely about to unleash scorching miasmic dragonbreath. I was protected by several layers of magic and miracles, but if his breath hit me directly, it wouldn’t be surprising if I was burned beyond recognition or even melted. My heart leaped in panic. However, the lethal breath was never to touch my back.

“You’re not only up against Will!”

“Shh!”

Even without looking, I could tell it was Menel and Reystov. While I was charging in from the front, they had already spread out and made their way around to his left and right sides. The two of them were skilled enough to inflict serious wounds on the dragon.

Menel’s Silver-string produced several elegant notes. The radiance of mithril arrows cut through the darkness of the Great Cavern. Reystov’s nameless sword glinted as he drew it and slashed in a single lightning-speed motion. Engraved with Gus’s Signs, the sword’s slash extended like a twisting snake, closing in on the dragon.

Menel’s target was Valacirca’s golden eye, while Reystov had aimed at the toes on the foot Valacirca was putting his weight on. The arrow carried enough force to shoot through an eyeball, and the slash had the sharpness to chop off toes. Even an ancient foul-dragon like Valacirca couldn’t ignore them.

“Tch!”

He was forced to twist his neck and pull back his leg to dodge. With his posture disrupted, he couldn’t hold the aim he had before. I reached the gap between the furnaces and spun around. As the dragon swung its neck, breathing in random directions, I blocked the heatwave with my large shield.

The heatwave from his breath, thick like black smoke, held more than enough heat to roast a human whole. But with the defensive magic and the many blessings that were placed on my entire body, as well as my magic shield engraved with Signs to protect against heat and poison, I endured.

This was just the heatwave. If his breath engulfed me directly, instant death would be putting it lightly. When Valacirca said that my soul itself would be incinerated and I would vanish from the eternal cycle, he might have been telling the truth.

“Impressive teamwork... haven’t you?!”

With an effortless swing of his arm, Valacirca clawed huge chunks out of the stone floor, transferring momentum to countless stone pellets that were sent scattering towards Reystov. But Ghelreis’s Sword-smasher shield and armor knocked them out of the air. Valacirca didn’t care. He swung again. But this time, out of nowhere, an old wooden tower platform that had been built inside the Great Cavern came toppling down.

“...?!”

It was Al. With his Immense halberd, he had smashed the platform’s seemingly fragile supports, sending it toppling onto the dragon. Valacirca knocked it away, but broken pieces of wood fell everywhere and obstructed his vision.

It has to be now, I thought. I couldn’t see a long battle being anything but a disadvantage for us.

It was difficult to imagine a mythological dragon running out of stamina. It was probably best to treat Valacirca as having inexhaustible energy. The same went for his ability to withstand our attacks. He could probably comfortably withstand as many as we could deal him. That was why right this moment, he was enjoying the fight and testing us out instead of going on a serious rampage against us.

We, on the other hand, would be finished for good if even one of Valacirca’s attacks landed a direct hit. He would still have plenty of opportunities to attack no matter how many hits he took, whereas we would be done for if we took so much as one serious blow. I’d known this before I took him on, but just knowing it didn’t make these conditions any less ridiculously one-sided.

If we attempted to win in a straightforward confrontation, it would call for a strategy of offense and defense similar to passing through the eye of a needle. We would have to make it succeed over and over. Then Valacirca would finally get serious, and we would have to repeat that feat at an even higher difficulty, at which point perhaps we could catch a glimpse of victory over the horizon.

It wasn’t a matter of it being difficult. It would be impossible. Our stamina wouldn’t last. Our concentration wouldn’t hold up. Even if we used up our entire lives’ supply of luck in a single fight, it still wouldn’t be enough. So I had to bet on this right now.

I rested my spear and shield against a furnace and spread my arms wide.

“Ligatur, nodus, obligatio...”

A colossal amount of mana converged and darted at high speed. My Words, incanted quickly and with extreme precision, flew at Valacirca like shooting stars.

“...conciliat, sequitur!!”

While the dragon’s vision was obscured by the collapse of the platform, I bound him in chains of mana that formed a multilayered magical seal.

“Vastare!”

The dragon immediately fired off the Word of Destruction. At the moment his vortex of devastation was just about to wrench apart the chains, I finished my response. The Word meaning “guardianship” drawn by my right hand obstructed the vortex. The Word meaning “erasure” drawn by my left hand wiped it out.

“...?!”

Triple casting. It was Gus’s specialty, and a technique that I had been practicing constantly. This particular combination was the most hidden of hidden techniques, burned into my eyes on the day I saw that battle between Gus and the god of undeath’s Echo.

“Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede...”

With my arms spread wide, I visualized myself scooping in the enormous amount of circulating mana and gathered it at a single point. And all the while, I weaved fluent Words and scribed fluid Signs.

“You would cast that in a real battle?!”

“...pauperum tabernas...”

I ignored the dragon’s roars. In an almost trance-like state of extreme concentration, I made fine adjustments to the mana and carried out the ritual movements in an abbreviated form.

“...regumque turres!”

“■■■■!”

For the first time, Valacirca cut the idle chatter. In a rasping kind of voice unique to dragons, he started reciting some kind of Word at a furious pace. But it was too late now. This was a ritual spell intended to be cast by a team of several people working in tandem. It was one of the ultimate magics, which was virtually impossible to perform on your own.

“Damnatio memoriae!”

It was a colorless, invisible pulse of destruction. As it traveled, it tore to shreds the connections between all of Creation’s Words, breaking them apart and isolating them. The body, the soul, the phenomenon—it rendered them all meaningless and returned them to mana.

The acme of destruction through Words, the devastating pulse of the Word of Entity Obliteration slammed into Valacirca.

◆

A crater was gouged out of the floor, as though a humongous creature had taken a full bite out of it. Strong winds blew about the Great Cavern, as if to fill in the blank formed by the pulse that had wiped everything from existence. The dragon was nowhere to be seen. It had... looked as though the pulse had engulfed and annihilated him...

“Did we... do it?” Al said while looking all around the cavern.

“Seems kinda like it,” Menel said cautiously.

Ghelreis agreed. “Victory sometimes comes with unexpected ease.”

Reystov cast his gaze carefully around the cavern and eventually nodded too, the hem of his cloak flapping in the raging winds.

The dragon had been annihilated. Thanks to an opening created by Al, his very existence had been wiped out with the ultimate destructive magic before he ever took us seriously.

And yet, somehow, I couldn’t convince myself we’d won. Was it because it had been so sudden, so anticlimactic? Not every encounter ended with a high-stakes, intense battle to the death. Sometimes you could be stabbed without a fight by someone who should have been below your level, and conversely, sometimes you could be facing someone better than you and have a fluke drop a cheap win into your lap. I knew all that, and yet for some reason it still didn’t feel real. Had we really won? This victory had fallen into our laps so easily that it still didn’t seem to have sunk in for any of us.

We stood there feeling strangely empty as the wind blew between us, howling.

The wind was... howling?

The moment I realized, an extreme chill ran down my spine. I immediately guarded with my spear and large shield as I shouted.

“No! He’s still—”

But it was too late. Four bodies sprayed blood. At the same time, a violent impact slammed my shield. I was sent flying backwards. I rolled and bounced across the rubble-covered ground.

The wind had claws. It was a nonsensical description, but there was no other way to describe it. The wind blowing about had changed for an instant into sharp claws.

Suddenly, an old story I’d heard from Gus when I was a child crossed my mind. It was the story of a sorcerer who transfigured himself into an animal, took on the animal’s thought processes perfectly, and ended up as nothing more than a wild beast.

“Trans...formed?” I mumbled, stunned.

“Ghaha... Precisely.”

The wicked wind that had sucked four people’s blood swirled inward, and the shape of a dragon once again formed in the crater.

Metamorphose...

Just as the name suggested, it was transfiguration magic. However, this was an extremely risky Word beyond a human’s ability to control. Anything more than changing into a different person with a similar body shape was very dangerous. Just spending a short amount of time transfigured into an animal, even one with similar body mass, could result in your mind being held back by the animal, preventing you from returning. And transforming into something inanimate with completely different mass? That required you to prepare yourself for the possibility you would never be human again. Using it that way was equivalent to taking a revolver loaded with a few randomly positioned bullets, putting it to your temple, and pulling the trigger. The circumstances would have to be very extreme to even consider it.

But now that I thought about it, how had Valacirca even entered this underground kingdom with a body of his size in the first place?

“So you realized. Yes!”

The foul-dragon laughed. It was howling laughter, as if he couldn’t contain his amusement.

“We are close in nature to the Words.”

The elder dragons were denizens of myth, the closest beings to the Words of Creation.

“Yes, the Word of Entity Obliteration probably would eradicate even me.”

His golden eye pierced me. Scorching breath flowed slowly from his powerful jaws.

“If you could hit me with it, of course.”

He had completely predicted the Word of Entity Obliteration’s trajectory. Not only had he predicted it, he was well aware that strong winds kicked up afterwards and had used the Word of Metamorphosis to transform into wind to make it look like he’d been annihilated. He had disguised himself among the raging winds that followed the blast and struck everyone down with his claws.

He was well versed in how to counter even the strongest destructive magic. No, not just destructive magic; I was sure that whatever other Word I had chosen, the result would have been the same. This dragon had fought on all battlefields and battled against all Words, including all those Words and Signs that were lost to the past. He was familiar with them all, and he had conquered each.

So this was a dragon. This was a foul-dragon as old as the gods.

A cold, clammy sensation spread through the core of my being.

I knew this feeling well.

Its name was despair.

◆

The foul-dragon calmly drew himself up. He had a slight cut on his side, nothing more.

“Now...”

We were at an overwhelming disadvantage. I tightened my grip on Pale Moon’s shaft. I thought despair would swallow me if I didn’t.

“Faraway Paladin, you fought admirably and with bravery.”

Surprisingly, Valacirca hadn’t tried to kill me right away. But I had too much on my mind to consider a response. I glanced around. The others didn’t seem to be dead yet. Wait, how was that possible? It was a complete surprise attack with the striking power of a dragon and he’d failed to kill any of us? That was impossible. He had chosen not to kill them. Which had to mean...

“In light of you fighting so hard, I will make you an offer. What do you think of becoming my servants?”

It was just as I thought.

“I see you understand. I have provided you an excuse.”

Valacirca smiled. He looked as though he was enjoying this, and in fact, he probably was.

“If you turn me down, I will burn your allies to cinders. Bones, souls, and all. There. Now that your allies’ lives are in need of protection, you have a noble justification to submit to me.”

I couldn’t cover everyone at the same time. They had collapsed in different places, Menel and Al on the left and Reystov and Ghelreis on the right. In the first place, I had no more plays to use against this dragon, no more ways to bring a quick end to this battle.

“I have seen many with eyes like yours. You will not be swayed or intimidated just because I threaten to incinerate you. Even now, you are stubbornly searching for a way to cut through this situation.”

He was right. Even at this moment, I was silently holding off on answering while my mind worked desperately to come up with some kind of an out.

“But you have nothing. Am I right? Even with time to analyze the situation.”

I had to admit that it was just as the foul-dragon said. I had no more convenient breakthrough ideas.

“Oh... no, not exactly nothing. You do have one move, one way not to yield to me.”

His words caused me to frown. A move? I still had a move, in this situation?

“You can kill yourself.”

The idea had never even occurred to me.

“You are adored by the goddess of flux, are you not? All you need to do is cut off your own head.”

There was no hint of laughter in Valacirca’s voice.

“There will be a next world, won’t there? And one after that. And one after that. As many as you please. If you think winning is impossible, toss out the game board and hang yourself. If you want to reject tragedy, simply say, ‘Not yet. There will be a next world. This isn’t where I’m meant to fight,’ and drive a dagger into your own chest.”

His words were a hideous caricature of the truth. Everyone knows that things can’t actually be simplified that way. But that probably wasn’t the dragon’s point.

I shook my head. “I won’t take that choice.”

“Good. If you saw that little value in your own life, you wouldn’t even be worth subjugating.”

To Valacirca, who had an attachment to this world and had lived in it since the age of the gods, whether or not I had the will to make the most of my own life was a crucial point he couldn’t budge on.

“Then choose. Join me, or resist and be eradicated.”

My allies had been severely wounded to the point that they couldn’t do anything to help. I myself wasn’t uninjured, and my game-winning moves had already failed. I didn’t even know how many thousands of successful attacks would be needed to win by ordinary methods. I was completely checkmated. The situation now was even more desperate than it had been in my battle against the god of undeath. However—

“If I join you, I can easily imagine how you’ll use me.”

“I imagine so.”

He would spread war, stir up chaos, and continue to create the kinds of situations that a dragon preferred. My dialogue with him so far had told me loud and clear that he couldn’t live any other way.

“Then I can’t go along with you.”

“Your allies will die.”

“That isn’t how I see it.”

Valacirca tilted his head.

“How do you see it?”

“We came resolved. No matter how many of us we lose, as long as just one of us can stick our blade into your throat, we’ll have achieved our goal.”

We were warriors. Throwing away the opportunity to win the battle in order to protect an ally wasn’t what any of us wanted.

“But you no longer have any prospect of victory.”

“I do.” I steeled myself and looked up at Valacirca. “If I drive this blade into you thousands or maybe millions of times, I will win. Am I wrong?”

My response seemed to take Valacirca off guard. His eyes went wide. Then he chuckled, amused.

“A prospect that lies at the far end of thousands of miracles.”

“Thousands, millions, billions, I don’t care. If there’s a chance of victory, a possibility of fulfilling my oath, then that’s what I’m going to bet on.”

That was the path I had chosen.

— So when you get hit, put up with it and move in. You’re dead if you step back anyway, so you go for broke. You keep your attacks coming, and bury your sword or spear or fist, whatever you’ve got, in there over and over.

That was one of the fundamentals of battle I had learned from Blood. When you’re hurt, move in. Step forward and give back what you were given.

“You’re about to find out how stubborn I can be.”

I probably couldn’t win. I was probably going to die. But I forced a fierce grin onto my face. The foul-dragon followed suit, baring his fangs.

“Foul-dragon Valacirca...”

“Faraway Paladin...”

Gripping my familiar spear, I assumed a battle stance.

“I will slay you!”

“You will die trying!”

I ran ahead towards my final battle.

◆

The period that followed felt like being caught up in a flood and swimming as hard as I could to save myself from drowning.

During the battle’s opening stages, I used all the Words and tactics I could to move us away from the place where Menel and the others had collapsed. It was possible they would still die in the heatwave, but I wanted to do as much as I could for them. If Valacirca had stubbornly resisted, it would probably have been impossible to move battlegrounds, but the dragon didn’t do that. Perhaps he’d decided it wasn’t worth concerning himself with defeated foes, or perhaps he was arranging things to make it easier for me as his enemy to give him my all.

I sprinted. Attacks flew at me from his sharp claws, thick tail, trampling feet, and at times body slams and deadly breath. I accelerated and dodged, hitting him with both Words and my spear with carefully judged timing. The dragon, speaking in a raspy voice, hammered me with many brutal Words, including several I had never even heard of. I summoned all of my knowledge and all the Words I could muster to counter them. Sometimes, he howled at me with an intensity that shook the mountain.

I stacked blessing upon blessing to protect myself from ruptured eardrums and the grip of fear. Several times, I was late to react and got injured by flying stones and the heatwave from his breath. Each time, I healed myself with a blessing and got back to my feet. I avoided immediate death by inches several times. My large shield had long been buckled and broken. I gave a long and frenzied scream as I continued fighting, covered in my own blood.

Claws came from the right. I dodged. Spear punch. Through the scale. Now a stomp. I pressed forward and sideways. Ducked and covered. Word, response, negation. Claws swung. Tail swung. I dodged. Spear—

“GRAH!!”

The red insides of his mouth closed in, fangs bared. Valacirca had used a bite for the first time. My body had gotten used to the cycle of claws, tail, stomp, and couldn’t react immediately. But I reacted still, although a little late, forcibly shielding my body with Pale Moon. I was knocked flying, the dragon’s fangs just grazing me. I stood up again, went to hold my spear at the ready, and realized that it felt strangely light. My breath caught at the back of my throat. Pale Moon was broken. My favorite weapon, which I’d been using for so long—its shaft was bent, its blade shattered; no one could fix it now.

In an attempt to fire up the fighting spirit that had broken along with my spear, I yelled another mad war cry and pulled out Overeater. Valacirca had several wounds across his body. If I could drive it into him and recover my energy, I’d still have—

“I’m afraid—”

The moment I stepped forward, my foot was blown off. I yelled out in pain. Several destructive Signs had been engraved into the ground on the spot where I had placed my foot. When had he set those up? Sometime during this battle? Sometime before?

“I know that demonblade.”

Of course. Valacirca had been part of the High King’s forces.

“It is a fearsome blade, isn’t it? It has an interesting history. It was tempered by a King-ranked demon to face off against and kill the High King, who was always crazy for swords. But once you know the trick, there are ways to defeat it. For example...”

Even as I withstood the intense pain to pray and heal my foot, many flame arrows floated around the foul-dragon. He spread his wings with a heavy flap and distanced himself far from me. Apparently, he didn’t even intend to entertain close-range battles anymore. From his posture, I could tell he was planning to finish me off with breath and long-range Words.

“Though I was toying with you, I never expected a mere human to cause me so much trouble. Faraway Paladin, William G. Maryblood, I shall praise you for inflicting so many wounds upon me.”

My mind was hazy. I couldn’t focus.

“If this had been a test of each other’s skills, I may have handed you the garland of victory and commended you on a battle well fought. Your power is no less than the heroes of the age of the gods. You are truly powerful, a champion of the modern age.”

The strength had left my arms. My voice shook, and I couldn’t utter Words properly. The dragon was as alive as ever.

“But this is a battle to the death.”

The dragon headed towards me to take my life. I had to defeat the dragon. I’d promised my god. I had to fight.

I summoned the last reserves of my strength, using my sword to help me stand. I started gathering mana. I desperately focused my concentration, healing my wounds as if it would make a difference.

“I will not make you suffer. Die.”

The dragon inhaled, then unleashed hellish breath that would surely incinerate me to nothing.

It was hopeless. There was nothing I could do about this.

Even as those thoughts went through my head, I somehow held up my sword and tried to utter a Word. I had been given life. I had to live it until the end. That was my thinking.

The scorching miasmic breath engulfed me. But the end never came.

◆

“Oh...”

I realized that a warm flame was floating in front of me. Around the flame, a transparent barrier of some kind was being generated.

“God...?”

It was as if it was protecting me from the dragon’s breath.

“A Herald? Heh. Not enough power to manifest an Echo? Goddess of the flame, you waste your time.”

Dragonbreath struck the barrier. It struck it over and over. The flame wavered. Fissures ran along the barrier. But still she protected me.

“Are you that keen to keep your hero? But support from the Herald of a single god will change nothing.”

Against the violence of a dragon, even that was nothing more than a play for time. But still she didn’t give up. She kept on blocking the dragonbreath, over and over.

— I will strengthen thee; I will help thee; I will keep thee with my flame.

I understood. She was trying to keep her promise.

“God...”

The flame said nothing. As always, she remained silent and simply continued to protect me. But like all things, that too had to come to an end.

“■■■■!”

The dragon spoke a raspy Word. An unknown pulse burst towards us, and the barrier shattered without a trace. Already, the foul-dragon had enough breath stored in his mouth to kill me.

“Paladin! You were a foe well deserved of my breath! I will burn your figure into my memory, and your soul and bones from the face of existence!”

This roar of Valacirca’s resounded around the Great Cavern. It was probably his way of offering me a final tribute.

“I’m afraid I have an issue with that.”

A new voice with an easygoing attitude suddenly came from the side.

“What?!”

The dragon immediately breathed in that direction, but the owner of the voice took an incredible arc through the air and evaded it.

“This hero is my catch, my foe, and I do not appreciate him being taken.”

With wings blacker than the night and ominously shining red eyes, the thing gliding back down towards me was—

“Stagnate, god of undeath?!”

The foul-dragon groaned.

◆

Valacirca couldn’t hide his surprise. Beside me, the god of undeath faced the foul-dragon and spoke volubly.

“So let me see, foul-dragon Valacirca. You said that support from the Herald of a single god will change nothing. Hahah. Precisely! I myself predicted as much. These heroes are insufficient; they and the god of the flame, still insufficient! I said that killing the wicked Calamity’s Sickle was beyond them! However—”

The Herald-raven clicked its beak. It sounded like he was taking great pleasure in this.

“Come to think of it, I never considered what might happen if two gods were present. I wonder? Perhaps these heroes would stand a chance of victory? Personally, I have a feeling that they might, but what say you, Valacirca?”

“You’re as talkative as ever, god of undeath.”

“Why is it that we don’t get along, Valacirca? You and I are cut from the same cloth. I’d say we share similar pleasures.”

“Mine are nothing as distasteful as yours. My life and soul exist to incinerate and shine with glory. What good is it to make things last forever? Materialist.”

“That is what I call distasteful. Beauty should be preserved forever. It’s a natural emotion. Vandal.”

Valacirca looked displeased. I couldn’t blame him; Stagnate had spoiled his battle.

“And aren’t you a charmer, Paladin? To have not just one goddess but two come running to your aid! That was virtually unheard of even in the age of the gods.”

Valacirca sent me a sarcastic glare. But more importantly, I got the feeling that some kind of shocking truth had just been revealed to me. Two? Goddesses?

“Does it matter whether I present myself as a god or a goddess? To gods, gender is mere outward decoration. Right?”

The raven seemed to shrug. Then, stopping on my shoulder, it tried to rub its head against my cheek. God’s flame rushed in to obstruct him. A silent face-off was underway near my shoulder.

“Hahaha. No need to get so angry, Gracefeel. I am offering to lend you a hand. Surely I can be allowed one or two perks. Hm? Judging by your reaction, you want to know ‘why now.’ You know, I had planned to stay out of this. But after seeing such a rousing battle, I feel I will regret not offering any support.”

“You would stick your beak into my battle for that? You hero-crazy hedonist.”

Valacirca spat the words at him.

“Precisely! This hero, this meddlesome paladin, is worth going crazy for!”

Stagnate answered loud and bold.

“Now! The battle is far from over! Do you have the will to continue fighting, William G. Maryblood?! Paladin of the flame, my wise and foolish foe! You once said you would keep to your oath, keep faith in your heart, and keep on fighting until the very instant you fell over dead. Do not tell me those words were false!”

I snorted. I was a total wreck. My arms and legs had been torn off and healed with benediction more times than I could count. My stamina and concentration were both exhausted, and my spear was broken, too. The only reason I was standing was because I had my sword to lean on. Honestly, I was at my limit. I wanted to let my consciousness go, drop everything, and sleep. But even so...

Even so, if Stagnate was going to say that to me, if Gracefeel was going to stay by my side—

“I guess I have no choice.” On wobbly legs, I stood ready for battle and fixed my gaze on the dragon. “Valacirca.”

“What?”

I smiled at him. “Didn’t I tell you I’d be stubborn?”

“Hahahah. Yes, you did. Horribly stubborn. Your stubbornness has even driven the gods to action. How heroic.”

The dragon grinned.

“Very well. A human is only a dragon’s equal with the full protection and blessing of a god. And dragons exist to reduce those god-praised heroes to ashes!”

Valacirca spread his wings. He was as healthy as ever. I had dealt him several wounds and ripped off several of his scales, but nothing more than that.

“Compassionate goddesses who rule over souls! Graceful maidens without battle blessings! Tell me! What protection will you provide this hero, and how will you kill me?!”

Defiantly, Valacirca stood tall, as if daring them to try him.

The fact was that neither the god of the flame nor the god of undeath was a god of war. The god of the flame clearly didn’t have that kind of nature, and having actually fought once against the god of undeath, I knew that he—or she—had essentially no knowledge of the martial arts. Valacirca was right. Both of them were fundamentally merciful gods. Even if the god of undeath gave me her protection as well, I had my doubts whether my blade would ever—

“Hm? I won’t provide him anything.”

The god of undeath said flatly.

“This man is my adversary. He has declared that he will remain as such. I certainly have no reason to give him a blessing.”

“Oh?”

“However, Valacirca, I suspect you are forgetting... where we are.”

When he heard those words, the dragon’s eyes widened. Of course. How could I forget?! This place was—

“This is the Iron Country! The mountain where brave warriors of fire linger in regret of falling to an army of demons and a foul-dragon!”

An enormous burst of power exploded from the god of undeath’s Herald-raven. The power spread outward like an invisible wave, reaching all parts of the mountain.

“Now return! Your allies and descendants have come back to you, and with them stands an unmistakable hero! They have returned to defeat the demons, take on the dragon, and reclaim the mountains that are your home!”

I could hear the sound of boots, countless boots.

“Slumbering lost, he is no warrior who would stand by now! I call upon you to take up the sword of revenge and bury your regrets! Feed the fire of courage once again!”

I could hear the sound of armor, of axes drumming against shields, of booming voices that shook the ground.

“Warriors of the dwarves!!”

An army of pale blue specters poured out of a great many entrances into the Great Cavern. The dead dwarven warriors roared, to take back their homeland and take on the dragon once again.

◆

The god of undeath’s Herald-raven flew through the Great Cavern like a guide. War horns blew loudly, signaling the march to the field of battle. I could feel the regular pounding of their war drums in my stomach like a heartbeat. The flames of pale blue souls danced. I could hear hundreds or thousands of people marching in step. The dragon watched this quietly with scrunched-up eyes, perhaps intrigued, or perhaps nostalgic.

As I watched all this, I heard footsteps behind me. There were four sets. “You guys... aren’t undead, are you?” I turned around as I said it. I knew from their aura that they weren’t, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Chill. We’re alive.”

“Yes. See?”

“Close shave, though.”

Menel and Al were there, and so were Reystov and Ghelreis.

“Your solo heroics pulled the dragon’s attention off us.”

“Then, with the blessing of our divine creator—although, the young master was unfamiliar with it, so it took time for us to be healed, of course.”

Now I understood why Al’s blade had become enshrouded in divine fire when he fought that demon. He had gained the protection of Blaze. That meant that just like me—well, perhaps not quite like me, but given time, at least, he could heal his own wounds and stand back up. Me not giving up had meant something. The god of undeath had taken action for me. My allies had once again stood up for me. Knowing that, I could keep on fighting.

“William... Sir William. This is, this is...”

Ghelreis stared at the army before him with a stunned expression. It looked like he couldn’t decide whether to believe what he was seeing.

“They’re going to fight with us for now. They’ll be valuable reinforcements.”

“Ohhh...” Tears rolled down his cheeks.

He had once dreamed of this field of battle and never been able to obtain it, and now he had finally arrived. Just then, I heard more footsteps. These were heavy. Clad in brilliant mithril armor, but with a slim, gentle appearance, the ghost of a single dwarf walked towards us. In his hand, he held a gleaming, golden sword. Ghelreis gasped and dropped to one knee as if on reflex. That gesture told me everything.

“Grandfather?” Al said in shock.

The last lord of the Iron Country, Lord Aurvangr, was there. He wordlessly stroked Al’s hair as if to say ‘well done.’ Al’s face crumpled, and tears brimmed in his eyes.

Then, Lord Aurvangr turned his gaze to me. Still saying nothing, he held the blade of his golden sword in his gloved hand and presented me the hilt.

“Huh?”

Um. To me? Shouldn’t you be giving that to Al? Those thoughts and doubts did pass through my mind, but his strong gaze won out. I gripped the hilt and received the sword.

It was Calldawn, the famous sword that had claimed one of Valacirca’s eyes. It was an enchanted sword that had been handed down through generations of dwarves and had probably existed since the time of the gods.

“Hero of the flame. Please... look after my grandson... and... this mountain...”

His voice came out hoarse and raw. Then, the armor being worn by Lord Aurvangr’s ghost, and his flesh too, slowly started to break down.

“Grandfather? Oh no... Grandfather?!”

Of course. I’d been told. Valacirca’s flame could incinerate even souls. Lord Aurvangr’s soul had most likely been roasted by the dragon. Its shape had probably become unstable a long time ago. It was probably reaching its limits just holding together for this long.

Tragically, heartlessly, the specter slowly melted and broke down, until...

“Not yet.”

A soft voice and a power as gentle as the breeze stopped the collapse.

“Not yet.”

It was my god. The Herald-flame of Gracefeel, goddess of the flame, had spoken.

◆

“Hearken, ye that cannot retain your souls.”

My god’s words were not only directed at Lord Aurvangr. I looked and saw that several hundred of the dwarves in that army were in a similar condition. As they roasted, melted, and their spectral bodies started to break down, the warriors still kept their will to fight; yet even that seemed more than they could hope for.

“All ye that are burned by the breath of the dragon and can no more return to samsara.”

She seemed to speak calmly, but there was a certain sorrowful quality to her voice. And then—

“O ye that are born in this world and lived well! O ye that endured!”

My god, who had always spoken with few words and a level tone, shouted loud for the first time. Her words were filled with unmistakable praise for the lives they had led. They were words of gentle appreciation, praise, celebration, and direct justification.

Though they were ghosts, some of the dwarves trembled or broke down crying. To have one’s way of life validated by a god—could there be any greater honor, as a person or a warrior?

“I shall bestow upon you a final blessing! If even in death, after your souls have perished, you yet desire to bring forth good and righteousness—”

The flame danced in the air. It was beautiful and yet frail, like a firefly dancing through the night sky.

“I shall guide you! Gather unto the heroes that live in this time!”

The divine flame danced. It was the souls’ guiding lantern, preserving them before they came apart and beckoning soul after soul to our side. One after another, they came flying towards me and the others. I braced, but there was no impact or pain. However, their feelings came through to me. I felt their regrets, their lamentations, their unfinished business; and I understood their fervent desire for the victory they had been unable to achieve.

Come with us, they said. Please, let us go together. Fight alongside us.

As their words echoed inside my heart, mysteriously, power seemed to well up within me. The exhaustion weighing down my entire body like a lead weight began to vanish. My hazy mind became refreshingly clear. I felt as if I could immediately sprint into action.

Everything looked so clear to me now. These warriors’ souls, left to roam around the mountains that had been brought to ruin by the dragon, had almost been lost. But now, they were giving me power. I could tell without being told that their souls had been passed on to us.

Menel, Reystov, and Ghelreis also accepted those souls with somber expressions. And once he had confirmed that all of the burned souls had gathered with us, the soul of Lord Aurvangr, which was close to breaking apart, extended a hand towards Al. Al took it.

“Grandfather...”

“I will not say I’m sorry. My grandson, please, bring life back to this country and its people.”

“I know. Please leave it to me!”

The two of them looked at one another. Then, the soul of Lord Aurvangr scattered into golden particles and disappeared into Al’s chest. The god of undeath’s Herald muttered:

“What a pity. It seems I must share the fun.”

Then the foul-dragon gave a pensive growl and spoke sedately.

“It looks like you’re ready, Faraway Paladin.”

Even as the situation unfolded like this, Valacirca still didn’t start attacking us in haste. He waited calmly for us to completely finish.

“I... guess you didn’t do that out of kindness.”

“Khahaha. Of course not.”

The injured dragon spread his wings and drew himself tall.

“It is much like aging alcohol. Before I crush the heroes, I wait for them finish all their preparations, get everything in order, fill themselves to the brim with hope, and march towards me. The moment when their faces warp in despair...”

He bared his fangs.

“...is my greatest pleasure.”

There was no hint of a lie in Valacirca’s words. He probably had seen off more heroes than he could count that way, and incinerated them down to their souls.

“Now challenge me if you dare, Faraway Paladin. Either I will bury you here, and another page will be added to my chronicle of terror, or you will slay me here, and I will be spoken of in tales of valor across the four corners of the world.”

The dragon’s whole body brimmed over with miasma.

“Now is the moment of truth.”

I couldn’t answer him straight away. I looked at my god.

“Here I go.”

“Yes. I command thee again.”

The Herald-flame of the goddess flared up with an unmissable flash of brilliant light. And she, Gracefeel, goddess of flux, gave me my order in a solemn voice.

“Go, my knight. Slay the dragon, and pay that which you have vowed.”

I looked about at my allies and the ranks of dwarven ghosts.

“I swear on this sword, on the flame, on all the souls of warriors that dwell within me!”

I lifted the golden sword high, raised my voice, and shouted at the top of my lungs.

“The evil dragon shall be slain!!”

In response, a battle cry of hundreds shook the mountain.

“Roar, fire of courage!”

“Our enemy, this is the end of your evil!”

“The time for retribution has come! The hour of justice is at hand!”

“Bellator! Bellator!”

“Fortis Fortuna adiuvat!”

As if in reply to the countless shouts shaking the earth, the foul-dragon howled. The final battle began.

◆

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAA!!”

The dragon’s roar shook the Great Cavern. It was a terrifying, draconic howl, which without serious preparation would be enough on its own to wear down your soul and leave your mind vacant. He lashed out with his claws at the same time. Screaming out loud, I swung my sword in a horizontal arc, knocking his attack off course, and I stepped in close.

“Sagitta Flammeum!”

“Flame, protect me!”

The dragon’s Word and my Sacred Shield blessing collided and wore away at each other. With a bright flash, both were dispelled.

My entire body was full of energy as I moved. Fervent heat filled my chest. Crystal-clear consciousness extended to every part of my body. I felt as though I had perfect control over everything down to the finest movements of my fingertips. I could anticipate and follow the enormous masses that were the dragon’s arms and legs even without looking as they assailed me from above.

I dodged his claws, pierced his scales, got behind him, cut him open. The blade of the enchanted sword Calldawn vibrated, producing a wondrously clear tone. No matter how many of the dragon’s scales I cut off, the sword remained unscratched and unblemished. It didn’t seem that even the slightest speck of blood had marred the blade. I was keeping Overeater sheathed for now, but Calldawn might have been just as sharp, perhaps even sharper.

Valacirca gave an angered roar, but he still made no attempt to avoid a close-quarters battle. He swiped at me aggressively with his claws, trying to crush me with them. Now that an army of this size had appeared with me as their standard-bearer, he must have decided that it was better to suffer a few flesh wounds to eradicate me quickly than take it easy from afar.

He committed to each decision and never hesitated. His arms, which reminded me of the trunks of enormous trees, gouged through the air with a mighty sound, swinging first left then right. My tension high, I dodged those swipes and saw my timing to draw in close again, but before I could—

“■■■—!”

The unfamiliar Word spoken by the dragon coincided with my field of vision lurching to a horrible angle. Sludge had spurted out of the supposedly solid ground, and my right foot had sunk into the soil.

Panic struck. From my previous world’s knowledge, I recognized this as liquefaction, but I couldn’t come up with a Word to counter it on the spot. This Word hadn’t been passed down into the modern age. It was a Lost Word, forgotten since the age of the gods.

I had no way of responding. I had no idea what would even work. I couldn’t speak a Word on reflex, and I had no time to think!

“Now crush!!”

In that moment of hesitation, a palm the size of a large table, with fingers like human torsos and sword-like claws, came tearing down towards me. The strike had the dragon’s whole body weight behind it. If I took it directly, there was no way I’d be able to endure it. Even if I resisted it a little, I would be completely crushed. My leg was caught and I was in no position to instantly jump out of his range. I couldn’t escape.

His palm slammed down. Dirt was thrown into the air.

“Will?!”

“Sir Will?!”

My allies shouted. And for the first time, Valacirca gave out a clear cry of pain. He stared at his missing finger in utter disbelief. I had struck back with the blade of Calldawn, severing a single one of his fingers, and fit myself into the gap just before his palm hit the ground.

The dragon’s fingers were as wide around as a human’s torso, but that was just thin enough to sever with a single swipe of my sword, as long as I timed it right. And I’d been exchanging blows with him for long enough now to have a perfect grasp of the timing.

Although Valacirca was a battle-hardened dragon—no, because he was a battle-hardened dragon, the tempo, rhythm, and patterns of his attacks weren’t that complicated. He could crush most opponents just with his unfairly huge body and his countless Words. He had no need to add in other tricks like complicating the tempo and rhythm of his attacks or coming prepared with multiple different attack patterns.

A tiger doesn’t train in the martial arts to take down its prey. This dragon was exactly the same. Natural predators don’t bother with unnatural things like training or tricks. They have no need to. In terms of both raw physical ability and years of practice, I couldn’t compare. But if there was one thing I could exploit, this was it.

I pulled my foot out of the mud and moved straight into an attack, taking advantage of how much losing a finger had shaken him. But Valacirca was not to be underestimated. He immediately let loose a powerful binding-type Word, attempting to ensnare my legs. I was forced to hammer a Word of Negation into it and take a leap backwards.

The way he used support Words was extremely skillful. Even though he’d probably never trained in anything like martial arts, his use of Words must have made many a skilled hero suffer a very bitter defeat. He wasn’t just using straightforward attacks.

“RRRRRRRRRAAA!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAA!!”

His howl and my battle cry intertwined. Sword and claw, Word and blessing crossed each other again.

“Fiiiire!”

Countless arrows shot from the side towards the dragon’s enormous body. Apparently, while I’d been facing the dragon from the front, Al had led a platoon around the side.

“Chaaaarge!”

Another platoon of dwarves charged at the dragon from a different direction.

“Hahaha! Yes!!”

The foul-dragon gave a roaring laugh, and his rampage grew ever more furious.

◆

With a single swing of the dragon’s claws, a warrior in full armor was diced into pieces and flung through the air. With a single sweep of his tail, the top halves of several warriors literally disappeared. Dragons were beings close to the Words. Not even ghosts could escape their clutches.

But the dead dwarven warriors would not be cowed. They didn’t flinch, they didn’t fear. Roaring in unison, they kept moving directly forwards towards the dragon. They buried swords and axes into his legs. They pelted him with longbow arrows and crossbow bolts. His scales blocked most of them, but it was here that the wounds I’d inflicted on the dragon finally started to pay off. Bit by bit, damage started to accumulate over his body.

“There!”

Menel’s own arrows blended into the endless volley, the elementals of air applying slight corrections to his already deadly accurate aim. One after another, the arrows sunk into the wounds I’d inflicted at the exact spots the dragon was bleeding from.

The arrowheads were not shining with the radiance of mithril. They were black as sin. Then I realized. He had slathered the mithril arrowheads with the hydra venom he’d obtained in the marsh. Hydra venom was such a strong poison that a single drop of it could cause a large and vicious beast to roll onto their back convulsing. No matter how large or tough Valacirca was or how strong his miasmic nature, a poison that intense being delivered repeatedly into his wounds was going to have its consequences. If it had been Menel’s arrows alone, the dragon might have had some way of dealing with them, but right now there was also the incessant rain of arrows from the dwarves. Using the other arrows as camouflage, Menel was free to chip away at the dragon from afar.

Bit by bit, Valacirca’s movements began to dull. And as they did, Reystov, Ghelreis, and the dwarven spirit warriors daringly took their blades to him. More of the dragon’s scales were torn off. Reystov’s approach was different from mine. He didn’t try to cut directly into the scales; instead, he slid his blade into the small gap behind them and sliced them off. That is, he inserted his blade between the dragon’s scales as it was moving around. It was a feat of monumental speed and masterful technique.

“Pests!”

Valacirca’s supple tail swept sideways to slam into them.

“Now, everyone!”

All around Ghelreis, the dwarves put up layer after layer of shields, using the ground and their bodies to support them at a diagonal angle.

“We are invincible!”

“Roar, fire of courage!”

As the dwarves bellowed, the wall of myriad shields was built. Magic shields engraved with Signs activated one after another.

“?!”

The dragon’s tail swept in, but veered diagonally upwards. The ordinary dwarves and their countless shields had made no attempt to avoid the blow. Instead, they had knocked it off course.

“Give us back—”

By that time, Al had drawn close to the dragon’s legs.

“Our home!”

With his abundance of physical strength, Al held the halberd clad in divine fire high above his head and brought it down with a full swing into the dragon’s leg. At the moment of impact, there was a tremendous sound. It was a volcanic, explosive strike, as if the god of fire’s fist had been delivered directly to the dragon’s leg.

At last, Valacirca’s enormous bulk toppled off-balance and crashed to the ground with a thunderous boom. This was our chance. We could finally take aim at the vulnerable parts of his body that had been inaccessible before because of the dragon’s sheer size. The tide of battle had begun to turn in our favor!

I ran towards the dragon’s huge body. As I did, a chill ran down my spine. The foul-dragon Valacirca was grinning.

◆

Black smoke spilled from Valacirca’s mouth. In fact, I could see his belly and throat glowing red. It was obvious that an enormous amount of miasmic breath, storing the overwhelming heat of lava, had built up inside his belly. He looked ready to burst.

The realization hit me. For a very long time now, Valacirca hadn’t used his breath. This situation was exactly what he’d been aiming for. He had allowed his breath to overflow inside his belly all this time and drawn the main warriors in towards him, waiting for exactly this moment, when he could engulf himself and everything around him!

“I didn’t want harm to come to my treasure, but...”

If I had to guess, he was confident that he was the only thing that could withstand this heat. Valacirca had called himself the king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava. His own heat and poisonous breath would never be fatal for him, even if he pushed his own limits, storing up more than his body was meant to handle and expelling it all at once. This was Valacirca’s final trick. If that breath left his mouth, we were finished.

“Gallant warriors...”

“Maxima...”

I left the whole concept of making decisions behind me.

“This is your destruction!”

“Acceleratio!!”

I blindly incanted a Word and kicked off the ground. Action-reaction abnormalized. I could feel the bones fracture in my takeoff foot. As I pushed the bones throughout my body to breaking point, I flew towards the dragon’s throat like a bullet.

Everything became gray. Time moved like molasses. Valacirca’s eyes locked on me as I flew towards him. I saw him go for the breath anyway.

I raised up Calldawn and screamed a battle cry. The warriors’ memories I held within my chest told me the Word needed to draw out the power of this enchanted sword. It was a sword that the god of fire, Blaze, had given to his own minions as they headed into the darkness of the underground. Generations of dwarven lords throughout history had imbued it with mana in annual ceremonies. And its true nature was just as its name implied.

“Solis... ortus!!”

Blinding light and fire erupted from the golden sword, eradicating the darkness covering the Great Cavern in an instant. The incandescent blade of light, the miniature sun that the silent god of fire had given to his minions, plunged into the throat of the wicked black-dragon. The dragon’s scales, the tough muscle in its neck—none of it mattered to the blinding blade.

At the same instant, all the scorching poison of the dragon’s stored breath erupted from his sliced windpipe and exploded everywhere. The force of the explosion blew my body into the air. For a brief moment, I thought I saw the corners of the foul-dragon’s mouth curve up, as if he were saying, “Bravo.”

If the miasma and scorching heat that was Valacirca’s breath had issued from his mouth, it would have headed for all of us. But it erupted out like an explosion, and all of it headed towards me instead, as the one who had slashed the dragon’s throat. Of course it would. It was obvious what would happen if you stuck a knife in a hose full of water just before it was about to start spraying. But despite how obvious it was, my body had moved before I’d thought at all. I’d taken such a direct hit that I was sure not even my soul would remain. But...

Maybe taking down a dragon isn’t a bad way to go. That was my honest, natural thought. If this is how I go, it’s pretty good. Cut the throat of a godly dragon, and perish. What an amazing end.

The storm of burning fire and poison corrosive enough to melt bone engulfed me. But a moment passed, and all I felt was confusion. The pain of my flesh burning, the agony of my bones melting, was yet to come. The badge of honor on my arm shone weakly, protecting me. Its shine was quickly swallowed up by the storm of heat and poison.

But in that moment, I felt that Mary was scolded me, saying, “You mustn’t give up.”

The intense heat and poison hit me at last, finally surpassing the protection of my stigmata. My skin melted. My flesh melted, exposing my bones. My eyeballs, my organs started to melt. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I pulled out Overeater.

“■■■■■■!!”

Voicelessly screaming with a scorched throat and unable to see, I stabbed the blade into Valacirca’s body. I could feel the thorns of mana growing. My body, being melted away by poison and heat, started being repaired. It was agony enough to drive me insane. The cells throughout my body were incinerated, regenerated, incinerated again. Still I kept my desperate grip on Overeater, with hands that were melting and regenerating over and over.

I melted.

I healed.

I melted.

I healed.

There was pain, only pain.

Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain—

If you just let go of the sword, all this—

I forcibly suppressed the thought.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

I had to live.

Pain.

Pain.

I melted.

My body melted.

I healed.

Pain. Pain, pain, pain...

But through it all, I had to live.

Because that... was my promise... to my god.

To the end. To the end. To the very, bitter end!

Never give up on living!

With my entire body consumed by excruciating pain, clinging onto a single promise, I lost consciousness.

◆

I woke up lying in a puddle of blood.

“Will! Hey, Will!”

“Sir Will!”

Menel and Al had shaken me awake. Reystov and Ghelreis were also looking over me, concerned.

“Nn... ggh... Wait, what?”

Strangely enough, my body wasn’t hurting. In fact, I felt great.

“Hey, can you talk? You know what’s going on?”

“I’m... okay, Menel.”

“Don’t stand yet.”

“No, really... I feel pretty good.” I got up. I didn’t even stagger. My entire body was covered in blood and felt disgusting, but that was all. The blood splattered on me was still warm. I couldn’t have been out for very long.

I looked around. Valacirca’s now-unspeaking corpse lay there quietly. He was huge. Seeing him lying there silent had given me a new appreciation of his size. I had cut down a dragon... and survived... apparently. It didn’t feel real.

Lying on the battle-ravaged ground were Calldawn and Overeater, both of them completely intact. These were definitely weapons from the age of the gods. It seemed that even dragonbreath couldn’t destroy them.

The pale dwarven warrior spirits were slowly beginning to fade away. Perhaps slaying the dragon, which had always been their desire, had left them with no more unfinished business in this world. Without their help, we would have had no chance of winning.

“Thank you.” I lowered my head. In reply, they raised their shields and axes and gave us unreserved smiles.

“You saved us, brothers.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Farewell, friends and forebears. The young master and I will take it from here.”

Menel, Reystov, and Ghelreis spoke in turn. Al was the last. “I swear I will bring back the Iron Country as it once was,” he said quietly, placing his hand over his heart.

They replied to this with satisfied smiles, and then slowly, like smoke, they rose toward the heavens. Gracefeel’s Herald-flame quietly accompanied them. For a while, we stood in silence and watched them go.

After I had seen off the dwarven warriors, I took a moment to check what state I was in. Even my mithril mail was in tatters, and my clothes had been completely incinerated. It was no surprise. I had taken a blast of fully-charged dragonbreath face-on. The cloak I was currently wearing had apparently been considerately put on me by Al as I lay on the ground naked. I still had burns and poison sores all over my body. I looked at my arms and saw that my badge of honor was still there. I breathed a little sigh of relief.

“Hm?”

Except for those burns on my arms, all the other burns and sores across my body were slowly fading.

“What?”

Something was strange. Ever since I got up, I’d been feeling fantastic. I felt as if I was overflowing, somewhere deep inside me, with an outrageous amount of power and fight.

“Umm...” I looked around near me. My eyes settled on a large rock as big as a person’s head. I picked it up easily with one hand. The weight wasn’t unusual, but it was unusual that I was able to grip it one-handed with just my fingers. That should have been nearly impossible.

“The hell?”

“What?!”

Everyone’s eyes widened. But somehow, I still felt that I could go further. I squeezed my hand. Cracks formed in the rock. The cracks became fissures, spread in the blink of an eye, and the rock broke apart, falling from my hand in pieces. I was speechless. What was that?

“You sucked the life from a dragon of the gods. What did you expect?”

I heard the flapping of wings. A raven with crimson eyes landed on a large piece of rubble in front of me. It was Stagnate’s Herald-raven.

◆

“Your soul and body were heated red by dragonbreath, forged through an exchange of life with the dragon, and quenched with the dragon’s dying blood.”

I frowned.

“Your face tells me you’re confused. To put it bluntly, divine dragon factor has mixed deeply into your soul and body. It makes sense that you can break a rock with your bare hands. You’ve become something somewhat close to a dragon but with the form of a person, and right now that’s expressing itself unsuppressed.”

Umm.

“As I’m sure you’ll be able to tell if you try it out, in that state ordinary blades won’t pierce your skin, and the Words of ordinary sorcerers will feel like nothing more than a gentle breeze. If you wield any ordinary weapon, the weapon will break, and as dragons are close to the Words, dragon factor will multiply the power and accuracy of your own Words as well. Your lifespan... well, who can say? Your natural lifespan doesn’t seem to have increased as far as I can tell, but you’re much more resistant to infirmity and infection. As a result, you might live some amount longer.”

What was this insanity?

“That said... Right now, you’re burning with power and a desire to fight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, it’s... quite strong.”

“It was factor from that prideful and violent dragon. It’s to be expected. That state will cause the beast within you to grow. Do your best to suppress the dragon factor and not let its power go to your head. Otherwise, it will be your downfall.”

Siegfried suddenly came to mind. He was the main character of a German heroic epic, a hero who gained an immortal body by bathing in dragon blood but brought himself to ruin through love and hate. What destroys warriors is sometimes not the battles they fight, but the comeuppance for their actions.

“I’ll remind you, I don’t want to see you dying a miserable death.”

“Stagnate...”

The god of undeath’s Herald-raven clicked its beak and laughed. Its body was slowly starting to disappear, unraveling into a mist the color of darkness.

“I’ve used up all of my strength but, well, I did help slay that meddlesome foul-dragon and put you in my debt. Not a bad trade. You do feel grateful to me?”

“Yes.”

I wasn’t going to deny that. If not for Stagnate’s interference, I would have died. Though I hated to admit it, I owed her my life.

“Wonderful! When dealing with a hero like you, burdens of obligation and debts of gratitude pay far greater dividends than suppression and subjugation! I will regret losing those dwarven warriors Gracefeel guided, but I expect it will serve me better not to ask for them and increase the debt you owe me.”

“This is what’s scary about you.”

I was susceptible to that kind of manipulation. And I couldn’t just dismiss her if I owed her gratitude, even though she was an adversary to the god of the flame. Now that I thought about it, she’d managed to put Blood and Mary in her debt for certain things in connection with the High King, too. The essence of this god was definitely in her crafty manipulation skills and not her prowess in battle. Plus, because we’d once engaged in serious mortal combat, the god of undeath had a good understanding of the lines I would never budge on. I had no intention of going back on my words calling her an enemy, but it really was difficult to know how to approach this god.

“Well, it’s time for me to go. Gracefeel, thank you for your assistance.”

Gracefeel’s Herald-flame came floating gently down. Stagnate’s eyes as she watched her descend had a slightly complicated look within them. There were probably a lot of complications between these two gods as well.

“Stagnate, god of undeath.”

My god answered in a quiet tone.

“Even now, it is not too late. Will you not cast away your ideals? Will you not put away the power of undeath and guide souls with me again? If you will do this, I—”

“Stop there. And no. I will pursue my own ideals. My choice is made.”

“I see.”

The Herald-flame wavered. She seemed lonely and sad.

“Fare thee well, then, elder sister.”

“Yes. Farewell, younger sister of mine.”

Strangely, those words didn’t surprise me. They just felt right. I’d long felt that these two gods had something in common.

“Now then, William G. Maryblood. Your heroic brilliance has grown even brighter, and you have obtained vast power. But as brightness grows stronger, so darkness spreads. Take care. Do not go mad for war, do not hate, and keep the womanizing to a—oh, of course, you don’t have a woman.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I understand your desire to devote yourself to my little sister there, but at least find yourself a partner. You’re depriving me of the pleasure of tempting your offspring!”

“That is an awful reason!”

Were all my children and grandchildren going to have to put up with this?! What kind of curse was that?!

“If you like...”

The Herald-raven cocked its head at me. Its red eyes glistened bewitchingly.

“I can manifest a female Echo here one day. Would you care to have a child with me?”

“...”

My god’s Herald-flame positioned herself between me and Stagnate and flared up fiercely, threatening her.

“Tch. I’m not asking for anything from you, you know. Is one child too much to ask? Rhea Silvia used to do it all the time, falling in love with heroes and bearing demigod children.”

The goddess of the fae, Rhea Silvia, was said to live for love. I was sure I’d heard those kinds of stories about her, too. As far as I remembered, that was mainly in the age of the gods, though...

“Well, no matter. I’m out of time. I’ll give up for now. Oh, yes, one more thing—”

As Stagnate’s transformation into mist finally approached its end, she thought for a moment.

“William G. Maryblood... I once suggested you try being loved by me. I must confess a lie.”

“What?” I said in confusion.

An apparition of an intellectual and kind of glamorous goddess with a mischievous smile overlapped the Herald-raven.

“I am in love with you, William G. Maryblood.”

And with that, the great god of undeath, my respected adversary, dispersed freely into mist and disappeared.

◆

For a while, everyone—even God—was silent. What just happened? That was what they call a confession of love, right? From a god? To a person? And not just any person, someone who had openly declared his hostility to her? And to top it all off, I’d been left feeling like the victim of a confess-and-run. What was I meant to do?

As I stood there confused, Menel slapped me on the shoulder. “Wow, you can’t hold down a goddess. Best of luck, Will.”

“Shut up!”

How was I supposed to respond to whispers of love from a god?! I wouldn’t even have known how to handle a person!

“Better prepare yourself now. Women like that look laid back, but they’re actually pretty clingy.”

“Please don’t, seriously...”

The fact that Menel spoke from experience made it all the more real and frightening. Couldn’t I just pretend I hadn’t heard her?

As we had this stupid exchange...

“My knight. Heroes.”

My god tightened up this strangely relaxed atmosphere with a solemn voice. Everyone sitting and standing corrected their posture.

“You slayed the foul-dragon well. You were magnificent.”

Finally, it started to sink in. I had beaten Valacirca. I had defeated that incredibly terrifying foul-dragon and survived. I could go home alive. The thought caused a rush of relief. It felt as if Gracefeel was looking at us with affectionate eyes.

“I shall reward your efforts. Speak unto me your desires.”

“If I may,” said Al, responding to her gentle voice. “Goddess of the flame. Would it be possible to clear the foul-dragon’s miasma from the area around these mountains, including Lothdor?”

“Now that the foul-dragon is gone, I can grant that request to an extent.”

“Then that’s what I wish for. Please purify our homeland.”

“Eh, then I guess I’ll ask for that as well,” Menel said with a shrug. “Gotta think about Dine and the others.”

Ghelreis said the same thing. “I would also like to ask that of you. For the sake of my late friends.”

Reystov nodded. “That works for me. I got what I wanted. This sword fought a dragon.”

I was a little surprised by how selfless everyone was. But then again, if they weren’t, there was no way they’d have come with me to fight a battle with such slim odds of victory.

“I’ll ask the same. Please purify and bless this land.”

“Your request is heard.”

Gracefeel’s Herald-flame incanted a Word I had never heard before. A fire blazed up exuding a curious holy aura. I could only describe it as “sacred fire.” As it spread, the fire caught alight the drifting miasma and burned it to nothing.

The fire burned up only the unholy poison, leaving no marks on anyone else. The holy fire spread across the land. The Rust Mountains began turning back into the Iron Mountains.

“Mourned shall be those who were lost; and blessed shall be those who are yet to be born.”

My god spoke Word after Word with compassion, as though she herself was praying. She spoke kindly and quietly, holding the endeavors of us small and short-lived people in a soft embrace.

“Let there be peace upon this land. May it flourish, and may there be joy.”

As her Words continued, God’s Herald-flame blurred and started to fade away. Just like the god of undeath, she had probably exhausted so much of her power that she was unable to maintain her Herald’s form.

“O heroic dragon-slayers. This land, and you that reclaimed it—”

Beyond the Herald-flame, I saw a god who had been emotionless smile softly inside her hood.

“Have the blessing of the flame forever.”

With those softly spoken words, a warm glow of light, and a striking release of the last of the sacred fire that was burning out the miasma, her Herald-flame disappeared. Unlike the god of undeath, she had hardly said anything personal to me. I thought that was very much like her. She might not have been as easy to get close to as Stagnate, but I was actually fond of the way my god was so earnest.

For a while, none of us said anything. Inside the Great Cavern, where everything had disappeared, we all basked in the glow of victory and the feeling of being alive. I suddenly got the idea to walk over to Valacirca’s corpse and close his large eyelid. With his eye closed, the foul-dragon looked just like he was sleeping. Until the moment he met his end, Valacirca remained a powerful, wicked, and proud dragon. I offered a quiet prayer for him.

I didn’t know where the soul of this formidable being would go. After all, Valacirca had said that life was a thing to be burned through, something that should shine brightly. He might have rejected a return to the eternal cycle and perished of his own will. But even so, I prayed. And I wished the soul of this dragon godspeed.

“Okay.” I finished my prayer and turned around. “We still have quite a lot of things to take care of, but let’s get it done and head back.”

“Right! You rest, Sir Will. We’ll handle—”

“No, no, no. I can’t do that.”

“Oh yes you can, you’re having a break. You’ve been going way too nuts.”

“Agreed. I never thought you’d go for the kill at a moment like that. It was a damn good strike, though.”

“Indeed it was. I don’t believe I will ever forget that flash like the sun. We shall have to have a victory celebration when we get back!”

“Oh, nice! Let’s invite the Lothdor bunch, too, and get them to play for us.”

“That sounds wonderful! And we’ll have food and drink—”

“Tonio and Bee probably have it all worked out already. We’ll be having a blast for sure.”

“Ooh, I think I’m looking forward to it already!”

We were all chat and smiles. Started by no one in particular, the glorious sounds of high fives filled the cavern.