「North-East Area – Darkwood forest」

As the stare down between dragon and human drags on longer, the poor soldier who was wounded by Deborah earlier quickly gets saved by his other comrades, they drag him out before the battle between the Paladin and the Dragon begins. Other soldiers use their chance to escape, but a few still remain to watch the following fight between man and dragon unfolds.

-Go, horsie!

The man with the cross armor pulls his white horse’s rein as he yells his order. The horse obeys. It does a diagonal run toward Deborah and close the space between them, enough to be in its master’s blade reach, bu still not enough to get hit by the dragon girl’s punch.

Of course, Deborah’s not a fool to just stand there and get herself slashed like an idiot. The dragon girl charges. She rushes toward the man in armor, pushing some force to the ground for an uppercut, aiming directly at the man’s torso.

-Too slow, wench!

The man dodges without getting off his horse by bending backward to almost impossible degree a human body can afford, which leaves Deborah’s body open for a riposte from the man’s curved blade.

-Hyaa!

The man in armor lets the arm holding the rein free for a brief moment and uses it in unison with his sword arm, pulling all his strength for a swing at Deborah’s neck. By reflex, Deborah uses her arm trying to block the attack, but the sword gets through the meat and bone of the dragon and find itself attached to the girl’s silky white neck, which soon gets soaked in her crimson blood. However, even with such an attack, the man in armor fails to separate Deborah’s head with the rest of her body.

‘The block earlier must had reduced my strength’ – Thinks the man. Failing to achieve a quick victory, the man in armor channels all his strength to his curved blade and pushes Deborah away from him before the immortal dragon gets her chance to retaliate.

-It hurts…!

Deborah groans as she falls to the ground, dirtying the white snow with her blood as she tries to stand again. Her right arm no longer has its hand attached, which of course allowing streams and streams of blood to soak the snow in red. Her neck isn’t any better, it’s halfway from separating her head and the rest of her body. A normal human would already be dead if they are in her current condition, but Deborah however isn’t a human, she’s not even “normal” when using any common standard that this world knows.

-Does it hurt, wench?

Asks the man on the white horse.

-You should taste some more pain. This is barely a fitting punishment for killing my lads.

The man’s cross-shaped helmet covers most of his face, reducing a bit of his vision, but even he can see the killing intent endlessly flowing through Deborah’s dragon slit eyes. His arms silently shakes from his fear instinct, but they stop once he manages to regain his composure. This is the first time he feels something like this, which keeps him wondering what sort of creature he’s current facing is.

-Origen! Origen! Origen! Origen!

The other soldiers cheer. Their general is winning. If they can’t fight a dragon head-on, the least they can do is cheering for someone who can.

Back to Deborah. She’s still bleeding from her wounds, but they soon stop as Deborah recovers from her own bloodlust. From the rest of her right arm, a flame bursts out and burns her arm. Slowly, it mends the wounded parts and regenerates the hand that was destroyed. Her neck also heals itself by this sort of method. However, “method” is the wrong word to use when applied to Deborah. This is merely a natural ability of a living Dragon, 「Endless Regeneration」. As long as there is life in her heart, a Dragon will endlessly regenerate itself from any kind of mortal wounds it received by absorbing the soul energy surrounding the world. Dragons are an unstoppable primal force of destruction in the rare chance they decide to take on the battlefield. The only way to stop a rampaging Dragon is to kill them for good. A feat that is nigh-impossible to perform in this modern world.

-What sort of creature…are you?

The man asks, while arrogantly points his curved blade toward the girl.

-Dragon.

Deborah bluntly answers. A simple truth that brings these common men fear and despair.

When you meet a Dragon, either you run, or die. The soldiers chose to stand their ground, so it was natural for them to drop like flies once Deborah made up her mind to join the fray. If the man they called Origen hasn’t stepped in, this human regiment probably have already been destroyed by now, which speaks volumes about the mysterious man’s own capability.

-A Dragon? To think those mythical beasts actually exist...But no matter, if you bleed, I can kill you. If you won’t die, I’ll just kill you until you do.

The man doesn’t seem to be knowledgeable about Dragons and their immortality. Nonetheless, Deborah admits that the man himself is strong and have the guts a General should have. She needs to recollect her thought and form a proper battle plan that doesn’t involve throwing more punches until he’s dead.

Deborah is a dragon who, until recently, was in a dormant state before releasing a small portion of her enormous dragon power. Deborah is at her weakest right now, but a weak Dragon is a Dragon nonetheless. The sickly dragon Alwaid, even when near his death bed, managed to destroy roughly a thousand battle hardened Orcish warrior monks by himself, after all. Deborah’s current strength is probably unrivaled by none, but in term of martial skills, an experienced man like the one they call Origen trumps her over. Deborah may have the power to crush mountains with her hands, but she’s no martial artist who mastered the art of close combat. Not to mention his own special skill, 「Soul Enhancement」.

Even when she’s donning the form of a feeble human, her flesh and skin is still much denser and tougher than normal humans. Ordinary weapons won’t be able to easily cut through her body, and Deborah also thinks the man’s curved blade doesn’t have any special abilities aside from its unique design. That leaves Soul Enhancement, a technique Deborah once saw her friend Caelan performed on his fists. By concentrating soul energy onto an object, the user can raise its attribute several times over, granting it more power and endurance. But it’s a difficult technique to use, as it requires intense concentration to keep the weapon constantly buffed. The man before her is, by no mean, a pushover. Deborah needs to go all out if she wants to win.

The man riding the white horse is waiting for her next move, and he fully intends to counter whatever she throws at him. If she recklessly charges again only to throw more punches, probably her head will roll on the ground for real this time.

‘I don’t want to do this, but there’s no other way.’

Deborah knows what needs to be done, that doesn’t mean she is not allowed to grieve. Behind the thick skin and blood of a dragon, she still has a beating heart to feel emotion. But there are times where emotions need to be sacrificed to accomplish one’s goal. This is one of those time.

Deborah takes a deep breath.

-…!

It costs him a second, but the man in armor finally figures it out.

-Men, scatter!

He shouts his order and rides his horse away when he realizes what’s Deborah doing.

She intends to live up to her namesake as the last Flame Dragon, and does that by breathing a trail of fire aiming at the man in armor.

-Damn you, lizard!

The man cusses. He skillfully commands his white horse to jump sideway, effectively evades the stream of dragon fire that is burning everything on its path. Some soldiers manage to evade the attack, but some aren’t so lucky and find themselves reduced to mere embers, continuously burning until only ashes are left. A part of the forest gets burned from Deborah’s fire, another part starts to burn when that fire starts spreading out. However, what pains Deborah the most is watching the little garden she made herself burns from her own attack. A cost she willingly chose to pay, just to corner the enemy before her.

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‘Forgive my foolishness, my flowers.’

Deborah takes another breath, this time, she spits out a fireball to the air, which explodes in midair and rains down a barrage of smaller fireballs, effectively destroy what little remains of her own garden. The trees that she used to sleep by. The flowers that she spent so much efforts to grow. All the memories she has in this place, all burned to ashes, along with the soldiers who get caught on by the rain of fireballs.

-You pyromaniac lizard!

Even when facing a literal rain of fire, the man in armor shows no fear. Skillfully dodging the falling fires, the man rides his horse toward Deborah with his blade in hand. He’s no longer able to afford standing by and watch his men die. The man rides past Deborah, slashing her right arm in the process. Red blood bursts out from Deborah’s wound, but she endures the pain and awaits another attack. Several fireballs drop down near the man in armor, but he either dodges them with his horse, or cuts them apart with his enhanced blade.

-Your kind should have never come back to this world!

Says Origen. He pulls the rein of his horse and turns himself around, making a drift on the snow with his horse. Even so, he never once lose balance. The man is a natural born horse rider. Even if Deborah uses her speed to catch up with his horse, it’s still too high of a disadvantage for her to fight a skilled rider like him.

Which is why she needs to dismount him first, by the mean of eliminating his horse.

-Charge!

The man once again charges. His blade is ready. As quick as a gust of wind, he once again cuts through a part of Deborah’s neck, this time he successfully makes the wound deeper, only inches from making her head rolling. If Deborah uses her bare hands to block his blade, she won’t be breathing through her neck right now.

But if she uses her hands, she won’t be able to punch the white horse away along with its rider like what she intended to do from the start.

-What!?

The force from a dragon’s punch lifts the horse and a grown man in armor three meters apart from the ground. In order not to be crushed under the weight of his horse, the rider chooses to forsake the animal, and jumps out halfway in midair. The man lands safely, even with his armor weighting him down. The horse however gets its body slammed to a burning tree nearby. It groans from the pain. There’s no visible grievous injury from the outside, but the man knows the white horse is already at its end. Even when Deborah herself holds back, the punch already destroys most of the horse’s internal organs, not to mention the damage from the fall afterward. It only has seconds atmost to live its life in agony.

-Easy, fella. Easy. You’ll meet your true master in the afterlife soon. Be patient, will ya?

The rider gives the horse a quick pat on the head as he comforts the animal, before running his blade down to its heart, quickly ends its suffering. Deborah feels anxious. Losing her garden is a big emotional loss for the girl, but to the man in armor, losing his dear horse feels probably much worse. She’s no longer in the mood to fight. The burning forest only makes her sadder, so Deborah casts a quick spell to gather her burning flame back to her side and disperse them completely. All that left in the forest are burned trees, ashes, and the few soldiers who luckily survive up until now.

-You’re not General Origen, are you?

Says Deborah as the man in armor is done mourning.

-Your speech manner, your way of fighting. They don’t fit the image of a dreaded Paladin that I heard from the demon soldiers. Not to mention what you just said to that horse...If you’re not the enemy general, I won’t pursue if you and your comrades flee from here.

Deborah makes her proposal. By now, her wounds are already healed. All his efforts in wounding earlier are for naught.

-Just, never return here again. I’m sick of fighting and destroying…

The man stands up. His blade still soaked in the blood of his horse. He swings his blade sideway, cleaning the blade merely by force.

-You are right about one thing, Dragon chick. I am not General Origen. A punk like me can never be someone as great as him.

The man takes off his helmet and drops it to the ground, following alongside are his armor, his gauntlets…everything that helps people identify him as the one they called Origen. Without that disguise, all that left is a young man with black raven hair wearing green nomadic clothing beneath. He is tall, nearly as tall as Deborah herself. He has green emerald eyes. There is a weird piece of cloth with nomadic embroidery covering a part of his head. His age is roughly the same as Akuma, and aside from his emerald eyes, the two look somewhat alike. Considering his attire and horsemanship, Deborah deduces that this young man is from the Southern continent, part of a nomadic branch of humans called the 「Beastmasters」.

-But don’t you dare think for a second that I’ll pussy out of this fight just because you’re a big ass fire-breathing Dragon!

He brandishs his curved blade, with a bright smile on his face. There is no hint of sadness on the face of a young man who just lost his horse and his comrades, only a hopeful smile of confidence.

-How can you smile like that, even after what just happened? How can you still desire to fight, even when it’s foolish to try again?

Disturbed, Deborah asks. She already have her hands full with the stubborness of her own familiar, but to think her enemy possesses that same stubborness...

-Well, I’ll be lying to say I’m not sad over dear horsie. But being sad...is a luxury I can’t afford right now. My pals out there? They are still fighting just to get here. Knowing that alone is enough to give me the strength to fight. I can’t let my pals down, can’t I? They fought hard to give me the chance to be here. I ain’t going to turn my back and forgo their sacrifices like a sissy! I will continue fighting, even if my enemy is a living Dragon herself!

Deborah is pissed, very pissed. She grins her teeth with enough force to crush normal teeth if her teeth are normal. The girl seems to have a knack for meeting stubborn fools. But at this point, Deborah is already used to it. Words are useless. The courageous won’t back down from anything, even when hell is breaking lose, even when a war is happening near their door, even when the opponent is an immortal dragon. Deborah gives up, there’s no point trying to reach a peaceful way to end this. They’re too foolish to listen, and too courageous to obey.

There’s only one thing left to do, something she must do, if that is her fate to meet this type of people.

-Before we start, tell me your name, brave one.

Deborah resumes her fighting stance. Her dragon eyes rapidly resumes radiating the dread aura of a dragon.

-The name is Gust, the one and only Gust of the Empyrean Mercs!

The young man Gust swings his blade and gets to his fighting stance as well, with both his feets goes backward, along with his blade. His unmounted fighting style will be a lot different than being mounted. However, that will not stop Deborah from doing what she must. Like him, she has her own mission. And nothing will stand on her way to accomplish that.

-Now, Dragon girl, let us dance with the angels!