With another roar, the dragon launched itself with reckless abandon at Adama. It seemed intent on doing to him what it did to the dwarf, clawing and scratching to try to catch him directly and dash him into the rocks. But Adama skillfully parried every descending claw stroke, refusing to take even a single hit directly. It was like trying to redirect falling buildings, his bones creaking under the pressure. But he held on, his unusual physical power allowing him to bend, but not break in the face of the onslaught. He was going toe-to-toe with the lightning-fast beast while giving ground strategically, forcing it to tire itself out chasing him.
He occasionally managed to fight back, slipping under a diagonal swipe to dig his sword into its belly or letting lose a perfectly timed Rippling Sword into its exposed neck. But its scaled were hard and its body was large. He barely managed to do more than scratch the great beast with shallow cuts. It only acknowledged his attacks with a cry of irritation, ignoring minor scrapes to continue its assault.
It kicked up rocks and dust that threatened to get in Adama’s eyes and make breathing impossible. One horizontal claw swipe rent a nearby tree, sending it tumbling down at him, forcing Adama to jump backwards to avoid it. Taking advantage of this slight instability, the dragon brought its other claw down right on top of him, stepping over the fallen tree. Adama barely got his sword up in time, bearing the full pressure of the claw for just a moment before sliding to the side. The claw crashed down on the ground and the swordsman switched tactics, striking at the monster’s forearm in a swift counterattack.
The dragon had overextended, giving Adama the best chance he’d had in the fight so far. The blade bit into the well-muscled appendage, forcing the first legitimate bellow of pain from his draconic adversary. It used its rear legs to leap back, orange eyes blazing with pain and fury as they contemplated their resilient adversary. Its arm was too thick to have been severed, but it bled a small river, which should limit the monster’s speed. Even the smaller cuts were starting to add up, draconic blood staining the white grass of the 10th floor a deep crimson and causing it to smoke.
Truth be told, Adama was in worse shape.
Blocking all those hits had still put a lot of pressure on his body, and he felt hairline fractures in his arms and shoulders. They would still move, but even the slightest delay from his injuries might see him dead. But worse was the heat. The dragon’s body heat was exceptionally high, enough that small fires had already started in the wake of their battle, in addition to the fires from the dwarf’s immolation. Adama himself was partly cooked from his close encounter with the creature, his burns sapping his energy. He wouldn’t outlast his opponent in an endurance fight, and he could tell by the hatred and focus in his opponent’s eyes that there would be no running away this time.
None of his difficulties registered in his expression, however, as he stared the monster down. A lopsided grin cracked his blistered face as he taunted:
“Killed more dragons than I can count. Keep it up and you’ll just be another body on the pile.”
Further enraged, the dragon moved forward and spun around. Its tail lashed out as it did, smashing parts of the fallen tree, and barreling undeterred at the swordsman. Adama smoothly ducked underneath the deadly strike, but splinters of wood bounced off his armor and cut at his face. They made him a hair less prepared for the dragon’s follow up attack. A billowing river of liquid flame scorched towards Adama as the dragon belched out a new wave of hell. He jumped backward and scrambled towards his left, desperate to create distance and get out of the way. The monster tracked him, though, following his path with its steady stream of flame.
An instant before the fire caught up to him, Adama struck back with a desperate Rippling Sword, aimed directly at the beast’s flaming maw. It shut its jaws immediately, cutting off the fire and making the magic shatter feebly on the scales of its jaws. Adama’s eyes glinted at that reaction, the dregs of a plan beginning to form behind his canny eyes.
The monster wouldn’t let him rest. It lumbered in the wake of its flaming breath, approaching the enemy that had been even further scorched. The dragon was more cautious now, throwing out strikes with both arms but favoring its right and moving more slowly than it had before. Adama fended it off, but he could see what it was doing. It didn’t want to give him any more major openings and it had become more deliberate and conservative to do that. There was little chance that the monster would manage to hit him decisively, but that fact worked both ways. It was slowly damaging him with its body heat, and it wouldn’t let him flee.
The ache in Adama’s arms grew worse and worse as his lungs filled with nothing but superheated air. He grew more and more lightheaded as he boiled from the rising temperature of his surroundings. The monster’s claws had lost little of their fearsome strength as they shook the very earth beneath him. He narrowly redirected their path into that hardened soil but with every passing breath they grew closer to crushing him.
The Sage never lost his focus.
He even held back from counterattacking, patiently waiting for the sliver of an opportunity. Just in time, he got it. The dragon was just a little too slow in retracting a slightly sloppy blow from its left claw. Its right-handed follow up was a beat off, giving him just a sliver of room to strike at just the right angle. A perfectly placed Rippling Sword bit right into the wound on the dragon’s right arm, severing it entirely. It retreated again, calling out in suffering, and this time Adama followed it. He was determined to capitalize on the weakness and finish the fight immediately.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
But it was a trap. As if to demonstrate weakness, the dragon crouched lower and spun around again. This time, its tail swipe cut low, forcing Adama to jump to avoid it. As the sharp tip of the monster’s tail passed beneath him, it seemed he was in the clear. Until it flicked upward, maneuvered by a last second twitch of the beast’s hindquarters.
Adama barely got the flat of his blade in between his body and the bludgeon as it struck him in midair. He went flying, spinning in midair as he was launched by the strike. He went more up than down, more floating in the sky than hurtling towards the wall. But he was a sitting duck. Time slowed as he realized the danger he was in, blood thundering through his head as he gasped down his first gulp of cool air in forever. It could well be his last. The topspin the strike had put on him caused his gaze to be disoriented, and the pain of a set of cracked ribs threatened his focus. Threatened, but did not break.
The Sage closed his eyes, gathered his power, and struck.
A wave of rippling green energy, paper thin, followed the path of his swing. It whistled as it sliced through the air and made direct contact with the fleshy insides of the dragon’s open mouth. It had just been about to let loose another molten river of death, aimed at an easy midair target, but now it bellowed in pain as it coughed up rivulets of blood.
Adama managed to right himself at the last moment, landing unsteadily on his feet as he fought for real air again, the cool oxygen rushing through his veins like rivers in the desert. Both parties caught their breaths again, each one wary of a further trick or trap. They recovered their bearings and stared at each other, the dragon’s eyes clouded in rage and pain while the Sage’s viridian orbs were the only part of his body that remained icy and unwavering. He silenced the trembling in burned and broken arms by sheer force of will, stuffing down the sea of pain from all over his body that threatened to wash away his calm. The dragon coughed up blood and glared at him with fiery malice. In those eyes, he saw the embers of one final trick to be wary of.
In perfect sync, Dragon and Sage shot towards one another for their final battle.
Even crippled, the monster was a terror in close combat. It remained as fleet and as balanced as ever while standing on two feet and lashing out with its remaining claw. He naturally tried to drift towards its unprotected side, hoping to carve it open so it bled to death faster than he cooked. The dragon, of course, moved to avoid that. They moved in languid circles as they traded blows within the fiery battlefield, where grass fires had already begun to burn out of control. It was a dance in a burning world, a dance that came to an end in an abrupt twist.
Quick as a viper, the dragon struck. Opening its mouth, revealing pink and bloody insides ringed by shining white sabers, it twisted its neck and bit at Adama from its wounded side. It came in horizontally, right from the direction the swordsman was moving toward. His momentum carried him towards the gaping maw faster than he could react, or even strike, and the jaws closed around him in triumph. Twitching, the snake lifted its head to the sky in victory.
Only to have its eyes widen in surprise as it realized that things weren’t right.
Its jaws couldn’t close all the way because there was a man in between them. Adama’s legs strained to prop open the powerful jaws of the snake creature as it fought to crush him once and for all. Adama had jumped up and put out his legs in a split midair, using his largely undamaged lower limbs to prevent the fatal from ending his life. They didn’t remain undamaged as they trembled, pushed to their breaking point to prevent his grisly death. But the tendons of the beast’s mouth, powerful as they were, were already damaged from his earlier attack. They leaked blood as they strained to close their teeth upon the interloper.
In those fateful milliseconds, Adama gathered his power once again. The heat he experienced was pushed to unbearable levels as the dragon prepared a flaming lance to cook him alive. The pressure of the mighty mandibles threatened to crush him to paste. The runes on his sword glowed a brilliant green on their ivory backdrop as he gathered everything he had.
The Sage struck, and Hearthblade rang like a bell.
“RIPPLING SWORD”
Hoarse lungs coughed out the chant, Adama’s windpipes and vocal cords straining to produce the final chant. A fountain of gore came from the throat of the great beast, and its jaws split open, no longer held together by powerful muscle and tendon. At the last second, Adama used the last of his strength to fling himself away from the dying creature.
As luck would have it, he flung himself right into the trunk of one of the trees. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he crashed right to the ground, sword clattering uselessly away from him. He was totally spent, but he attempted to rise to his feet. His legs dangled uselessly, burned and broken as they were. He tried to crawl towards his sword, conscious of the fact that there could still be threats lurking. He hadn’t even confirmed the dragon’s death. He crawled a few paces and managed to grasp the hilt of his fallen sword. The shiver of relief that ran through him afterward caused him to relax just a little, and his body finally gave out. His muscles were unable to move another inch.
He passed out soon afterward.
…
The Sword Princess stood over the body of the Sword Sage, gaping at all the carnage around her. The body of a mighty dragon lay just a stone’s throw away, the culprit being this mere Level 1 adventurer right in front of her. She and the Amazons had gotten here right as the battle was over, led by a distraught prum girl they had found carried in the arms of an elven rogue. She was being carried by Tiona now and was crying the name of the unconscious warrior.
“Mr. Tim! Mr. Tim! Let me down!”
This last remark was for Tiona, who did as she was requested. The girl ran to the boy and began to give him recovery items. Aiz offered one of her own potions, which was snatched out of her hand before she could even say a word. From behind her, she heard Tione finally speak:
“Wow! This thing would have given even a strong Level 2 some serious trouble. And he took it down all by himself at Level 1! Impressive stuff.”
Nearby, Tiona nodded in agreement, before noticing something strange in Aiz’s expression:
“Impressive indeed. Tha… What’s wrong Aiz? You look a little worried. Do you know this man?”
“…Yes, I think I do. He’s something of a training partner.”
Now it was Tione’s time to chime in:
“Oooh, a training partner? For Aiz? For a Level 1, this guy is really special. Wait, you know hieroglyphs, right Aiz? Tell us what his stats are! I’m curious. Please? We don’t even need to look at skills or anything, just the stats at least.”
Technically, it was bad form to examine another adventurer’s stats, but a part of Aiz was curious as well. Before Tiona could rebuke her impetuous sister, Aiz looked closely at the boy’s back, which was exposed thanks to the fact that his armor and clothes had been so burnt that they were nearly destroyed. And what she saw amazed her.
“…All S rank.”