At the center of the continent was where the humans and the goblins stood divided. North of that, beyond the northern mountain ridges that separated the domain with the most goblins and humans was a land covered in snow. With a wyvern serving him, the hero beheld the height of the sky. Below him was a world covered in white.
Here even the very breath of the wyvern froze. A senior even among the subordinates of Grimoa the Dragon King, the Wind Dragon, flew at an even higher altitude than the insect that encroached into its domain, and it looked down at it from above, then he suddenly accelerated.
“What an Impudent──”
The hero could not possibly be oblivious to something so big approaching him from above. And yet he leisurely stood on the wyvern and drew the sword by his waist.
On his mouth was carved a cruel smile.
The kind of smile that one made when tormenting a weaker creature. The hero laughed. The giant wind dragon approached from way up high from the direction of the body of Rodo, and yet the hero faced its great mass head on.
Thanks to the Collar of Slavery that he personally improved, he could move the wyvern as he pleased. He flew his wyvern straight up to pass by the wind dragon. The wind dragon was nearly 10 times the size of the wyvern, and yet as they passed each other, it was truly only an instant.
“──This fly.”
That slash was so sharp that the wind dragon actually thought he’d seen a silver light pass by.
One attack, and the wind dragon’s head was lopped off.
“Letting it crash would be bad.”
The hero swooped down with the wyvern, catching up to the falling wind dragon to cut its body into 8 pieces. As the pieces fell, he touched them, one at a time, with his magic tool pouch, and they were easily sucked inside.
“…Oops.”
Storing the remains of the wind dragon happened at about the same time as the wyvern crashed into the ground. Right before the wyvern crashed, the hero’s magic pouch gently floated up and landed on the ground. Despite storing something even bigger than himself, its shape did not change, and he was able to store it back by his waist.
His own wyvern was on the verge of death, yet he felt no strong emotions and just went about his way.
“I might as well take down these lesser lifeforms that don’t know their place.”
Licking his lower lip, the hero walked with his bloodstained sword dangling.
A few hours later, the hero reached the top of a mountain, encroaching an area that towered over even that mountains region in the unexplored lands. In that region that reached past the sea of clouds, neither legged men nor winged creatures could enter.
Named after the creators, the Illusionn (Famil) and the God of Dreams (Jeje), in that one summit, was a cave that seemed to embrace him. The moment he entered it, a howl brimming with rage resounded.
He, who has been spoken of since the age of the myths, the sky king, Golden Eyes Dragon Grimoa was angry.
Despite that the hero maintained his composure, and continued to walk while laughing.
In his hand was a long sword that has buried a total of 400 and 98 dragons.
There was a sinister smile on his lips, as he looked at the beast that simply ought to be hunted. Those were the eyes of a hunter seeking to hunt his prey, determined not to let it flee.
“To think you would dare come here without fleeing. Impudent human!”
The hero continued deeper into the cave and stood before Grimoa with his dazzling golden dragon scales.
“Good job not running. I’d love to commend you for your bravery, but really… It is nothing more than foolishness.”
But the hero just scornfully laughed at the dragon’s anger and shrugged his shoulders.
“You will know the wrath of my subjects!”
“Don’t make me laugh. Like I give a damn how many subjects of some old gods die. If anything it should be their honor that they were able to be of use to me. And do you really think a mere follower of an old god can win against me?”
As the hero swung his bloodstained sword, blood scattered.
“Atone for your arrogance with death!”
With an angry bellow that pierced the heavens, a wrath ball appeared before Grimoa. When something like that occurred inside a cave, the chance of the cave collapsing and being buried alive couldn’t be denied. Of course, Grimoa wouldn’t die because of something on that level, but the desire to personally kill the murderer that slayed so many of his subjects won out.
“An ancient calamity that recognizes no human power. Learn with your flesh the meaning of our justice!”
Flame erupted from the wrath ball of fire, devouring the air as it ran within the cave. Three streaks per wrath ball. Six streaks of flames all in all raged within the narrow spaces of the cave.
Yet Grimoa’s attack did not end there. In the blink of an eye, he put together a composition formula and gave the wrath balls their own will, allowing them to attack the hero on their own. At the same time, he used his claws to try and tear the hero apart.
Just the great weight of the dragon was a threat on its own.
It could crush a person and it could also limit the movements too, but what was more was that the raging fire unleashed by Grimoa was wreaking havoc everywhere inside the cave.
Despite that the hero laughed.
This much was within his expectations. After all, he was hunting the beast that called himself the Dragon King.
“O world, exist for me… (Enchant)!”
Cladding the long sword was golden ether.
“Protect our master (Shield)!”
Protecting his body was a wall of purple flames.
The step taken, faster than any speed a human cold reach.
Already, the attack unleashed had encroached into divinity.
And with a single blow, the raging rampaging flames were silenced. Several more streaks of flames came shooting, but the hero cut them with his blade, and the very magic itself dissipated.
After cutting the composition formula that composed the flame spell, the hero advanced.
“Impudent!”
Grimoa swung his right claws, and rock and soil went flying. The rocks that came into contact with the Dragon King’s claws transformed into sharp spears that shot out toward the hero, while the soil turned into pebble bullets that shot out as well.
No matter how much the hero wished to cut the composition formula, things not woven with magic could not be cut. Grimoa hypothesized that in an instant and made his attack, and as it turns out, he was exactly right.
The hero dodged the barrage of stone spears and pebble bullets, but the distance between them was shrinking.
“Not even your ashes will be left!”
As rock and soil was hurled at him one after another, Grimoa wove the next great spell.
──Born of the Scorching Star (Volcano) Suddenly, a giant magic formation appeared before Grimoa, from whose center spewed out spiraling flames from the depths of the earth. In an instant, it sucked in all of the oxygen in the area, and the circle of the magic formation swelled in size, eagerly expecting the moment it was unleashed.
The eruption of a volcano turned into a spell, in the face of this attack, indeed not even ashes would be left. In fact, a normal human would suffer severe burns just approaching the spell, and upon touch, all moisture in would instantly be vaporized.
“──Prominence.”
But when the hero spoke those words, an even greater magic was released from his right hand.
In response to Grimoa’s spell strong enough to destroy a city, the hero released a spell that could destroy an entire country. Flames clashed with flames, and with no place to go, annihilation erupted. As their two spells were transforming and vanishing into a powerful light, it was the hero who made his move first.
He put his hands inside his magic pouch to reach for something, then he threw it high up into the air. When Grimoa saw it, it was just for a moment, but he stopped moving nonetheless.
The hero did not miss that opening.
He weaved through the gap of the two spells eating away at each other to reach the chest of the dragon king. That place was within the reach of Grimoa’s claws, but it also placed Grimoa within the reach of the hero’s long sword.
Furious, Grimoa tried to claw at the hero, but before he could, the hero’s attack had already reached his neck.
A silver stroke had been drawn.
Then a line gradually appeared on the golden dragon scales, and dragon blood, silver in color, began to spill.
“Curse you… Human.”
Regret and hate given voice one last time, Grimoa the Dragon King’s head fell limply to the ground.
And with an earth shaking sound, the body of the Dragon King too fell. The hero looked down at all of that, then he turned around. There, could be found a young half-burnt dragon on the verge of death. The young dragonling approached him with weak mews, but the hero looked at it coldly.
“…I’ve already acquired the body of the Dragon King, so it’s not necessary, but…”
The long sword that slayed the dragon king drew another stroke, and the dragonling’s head was lopped off.
“Your kind has no place in the world I’m about to make.”
That day the dragons ruling over the distant north were wiped out.
