“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.
The Lord of the Rust Mountains (Complete) Page 32
