Kays Translations

Chapter 44: Within the Inferno [Part 1]

Asval twisted his neck and released a breath of flame.

In the vast chamber that now resembled the heart of a volcano, fire beyond human understanding spread in a fan and swallowed the distance between them in an instant.

“Ngh—”

For Ren, the world seemed to slow.

The flames approached, yet his mind became strangely calm.

“How long do you intend to wander in a dream, Red Dragon?”

He raised the Wooden Magic Sword. Vines erupted from the wall and tore him away from the ground just before the breath reached him.

Sparks danced across Asval’s immense body, and a superheated gale chased Ren through the air.

Magic itself was extraordinary, but the scale of Asval’s power was cruel enough to deserve the word legendary.

“You imitate an insect, weak one.”

“Which of us is more foolish?” Ren shouted back. “The boy struggling to survive, or the dragon who became a magic stone and now uses a girl’s body to seek another fight?”

The heat distorted everything before his eyes. It threatened to burn him away at any moment.

Ren nevertheless thrust out his fist.

“I’ll use whatever means I have against you. Call me a coward if you like!”

A barrier spread from the Shield Magic Sword and covered the space before him. After reaching Level 2, it was both wider and stronger than before.

The flames struck.

For one relieved instant, the shield held. Cracks immediately raced across its surface.

Ren forced his way through the shimmering heat and threw a small vial toward Asval.

The glass melted before it reached the dragon. Its contents evaporated, but even the resulting vapor brushed against Asval’s body.

“Guh…!”

The Red Dragon recoiled. The heat surrounding him weakened slightly.

Ren drew another vial and swallowed its contents to sustain his battered body.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, undead?”

“You insect! Do you mock me?”

“I’m stating a fact. Potions are poison to the undead.”

Medicine that restored the living produced the opposite effect upon undead flesh. Unfortunately, Ren’s supply was desperately limited. He had used most of his potions trying to stabilize Fiona during their flight, leaving only a handful.

The tactic could buy time, but it could not defeat Asval by itself.

Ren had expected the dragon to be weaker than in life. Undead creatures generally lost power after death, and this resurrection depended entirely upon Fiona’s ability. Asval had only just awakened, his movements remained sluggish, and Fiona did not possess enough mana to restore a legendary dragon completely.

Even so, Kai and Meidas would have been far easier opponents.

The exposed magic stone in Asval’s chest pulsed. Each time it did, Fiona tightened her arms around herself in pain.

Asval was draining her.

(There is no time.)

The dragon spread his damaged wings. Though the membranes were full of holes, the crimson light around them was breathtaking.

One beat of those wings produced enough pressure to hurl Ren backward.

“Burn to ash!”

Asval drew back his head to release another breath.

“I have no intention of dying yet!”

Ren used the force throwing him away rather than fighting it. He aimed the Iron Magic Sword at Asval’s damaged eye and threw with all his strength.

The blade flashed through the fire.

Ordinarily, such an attack would have done little more than irritate the legendary dragon. This blade, however, had been coated with potion immediately before Ren threw it.

It struck the ruined eye.

Asval released a soundless roar, and the gathering flame burst apart.

For the first time, the overwhelming dragon writhed like a wounded animal.

(Three bottles left.)

The summoned Iron Magic Sword vanished after piercing the eye. Ren used vines from the Wooden Magic Sword to reach a patch of wall beyond the lava.

The potion had inflicted meaningful damage, but he could not rely on repeating the trick. He also needed some of the medicine to keep his own body moving.

Ren considered summoning the Thief’s Magic Sword and attempting to steal Fiona from the magic stone. The ability, however, worked only according to probability and might steal some unrelated object—or nothing at all. Spending precious mana on such a gamble could doom them both.

“Kuk… ha ha ha!”

Asval laughed with genuine pleasure.

“I do not dislike this. The sight of the weak grinding themselves down reminds me of those warriors…”

Ren felt no comfort in the dragon’s amusement.

An observer might have mistaken Ren’s resistance for evidence that Asval was less than legendary. That would have been wrong.

Asval had been awake only a short time. His instincts and control improved with every passing moment. Fiona’s mana was insufficient to restore his original body, but he was forcibly drawing more power from her to compensate.

Then Asval’s foreleg buckled.

Several crimson scales slid from his enormous body. The flesh beneath had decayed further and begun to liquefy.

(His body cannot withstand his own power.)

The Asval defeated by the Seven Heroes had been an existence Ren could never have opposed. He could fight now only because the resurrection was catastrophically incomplete.

That explained the dragon’s missing memories, confused purpose, and repeated loss of control. His undead body was destroying itself faster each time he forced more power through it.

Ren took a deep breath. He could not simply wait for Asval to collapse—Fiona would die first, and the heat would kill Ren long before then.

“How… why does my body refuse me…?”

Instead of flame, Asval coughed up jet-black blood.

Still, he did not stop.

The Red Dragon had forgotten much of the pride he possessed in life, yet the instinct to fight remained so strong that he would continue until his body disintegrated.

“Asval, I will stop you.”

“You fraudulent peasant bearing the name Ashton… Will you expose every last shred of your pitiful form?”

“Say whatever you like. I’ll take Fiona back no matter how undignified I look. I’ll fight you for her.”

Ren’s gaze hardened.

“And I can no longer watch you disgrace the pride you once possessed.”

He wanted to know why the name Ashton stirred Asval’s memories, but there was no time to pursue it. The immediate question was how to reach Fiona.

The Iron Magic Sword could not cut through Asval while the dragon’s heat remained so intense, and Ren possessed no reliable long-range attack. A few potions could injure the undead dragon but not destroy him.

“I remember nothing, and even my body betrays me,” Asval said. “Yet I do not dislike a reckless creature such as you… weak one.”

Sound vanished from the chamber.

Dense mana warped the air around them. Lava dripping from above stopped in midair, then began rising toward the dragon.

Ren focused on the single unbroken horn upon Asval’s head.

(It is glowing again.)

The horn shone more brilliantly than before, its light intensifying in proportion to the power gathering around the dragon.

(Does the horn amplify his flames and heat?)

Ren remembered reading that a dragon’s horns were vital organs of magical control. If he could break the remaining horn, even temporarily weakening the heat around Asval might allow him to reach the magic stone in the dragon’s chest.

Reaching it would be nearly impossible.

Asval seemed to read the thought in his expression and laughed.

“Fall into sleep with your final breath.”

Sound returned all at once.

The gathered mana exploded crimson. Wind drew in the surrounding lava and flame, creating a wall of fire that flooded the entire cavern.

There was nowhere to escape, and the Shield Magic Sword could not withstand such power. Even in his weakened undead state, Asval’s fire made an ordinary monster’s flames seem no brighter than a match.

Ren prepared himself for death.

Then the space around him froze.

Lapis-blue ice enveloped his body. Cold air spread outward and hardened the nearby lava, shielding him from the crimson wall.

“This is…”

The ice gradually melted, but the cold suppressed even the steam that should have scalded him.

Ren looked toward Fiona inside the magic stone.

“Please… run…”

Her eyes opened for only a moment.

The plea struck Ren more fiercely than the flames. Fiona curled around herself again, clearly in terrible pain, but she had used what little control remained to protect him.

Ren tightened his grip on the Iron Magic Sword.

“I cannot leave you here and run.”

Asval’s face twisted.

“Guh… what… is this…?”

His gigantic body shook, shedding broken scales and rotting flesh.

Fiona was resisting him from within.

Ren used every means available to close the distance. Vines carried him along the walls and back toward the ground while he avoided the expanding lava.

(Don’t be afraid.)

Asval was far weaker than he had been in life. His incomplete resurrection had neither restored his original strength nor produced a body capable of sustaining it. Fiona’s resistance weakened him further.

Without those limitations, Ren would not have survived a single exchange.

“This cannot be allowed!”

Asval raised a massive foreleg. The remaining horn flashed, and he brought the limb down across Ren’s path.

The ground shook. Lava rose into a crashing wave.

Ren used vines to vault aside.

“I am Asval.”

A merciless breath followed him.

It was so hot and powerful that it gouged a trench through the lava itself. Ren caught a vine for an instant, changed direction in midair, and narrowly avoided the center of the blast.

The edge grazed his arm.

“Ngh!”

Agony tore through him. It had been only a momentary graze at the weakened edge of the breath, yet the pain was nearly unbearable.

“Flame itself blesses me.”

Asval gouged at the ground and sent droplets of lava flying. Each one carried enough heat to melt flesh on contact.

Ren dodged and continued forward.

“Do you not fear me, weak one?”

“No! I’m not afraid!”

“Brave words. But courage without power is merely a path to ruin. Let your resolve falter for an instant, and fear will seize your body.”

Crimson flashes erupted from Asval’s spread wings and struck the cavern at random. One passed beside Ren and generated a heat wave that burned his skin.

Fire and lava blocked the way ahead while another flow closed from behind. His remaining foothold shrank rapidly.

“Are you afraid now?” Asval asked.

“I’ll say it again. I’m not afraid of you.”

Ren inhaled despite the heat clawing at his lungs. Fiona’s voice still echoed in his mind, strengthening him.

“Then what will you do? What can you do but await death?”

“This!”

Ren raised the Iron Magic Sword and brought it down with all his strength.

The pressure of the strike dispersed part of the heat wave. When the blade hit the ground, the impact split the encroaching lava to either side.

Ren hurled himself through the narrow opening.

It was unbearably hot. Every instinct begged him to run away. He ignored them, drank another precious potion, and tossed the empty bottle aside. It melted the instant it touched the lava.

“All flames obey me.”

The surrounding lava swelled. Vortices of fire rose from its surface like living arms and reached for Ren from every direction.

He used Nature Magic in a sequence of split-second evasions. The few vines and roots that could survive even briefly became swings and footholds, carrying him through the air and closer to Asval.

“You endure my pressure and still advance.”

Asval had regained much of his composure. His control and battle instinct were visibly returning.

“Just as a human cannot defeat a god, the weak cannot defeat me.”

The dragon was now close.

Asval beat his wings once and lifted his head.

“Crawl upon the ground and burn. I shall leave not even your shadow.”

Hellfire poured downward in a widening fan.

Ren twisted several vines together beneath his feet and formed a path climbing through the air.

He did not retreat from the breath or move around it.

He accelerated straight toward Asval.

The dragon had remained in the same place throughout the battle. Ren forced even more from his exhausted legs as that observation became certainty.

“You are painfully crude,” Asval said. “All you know is how to advance.”

“Crude? Sorry, but I’m still thinking!”

If Ren evaded to the side, the fire would consume him. If every alternative ended with his body disappearing without even leaving ash, then his only chance was to move forward.

“Accept your end, weak one.”

The vines beneath Ren burned away. With no support remaining, his momentum carried him to the height of Asval’s head—and directly toward the oncoming breath.

Ren smiled fearlessly.

“I knew it. You can barely move.”

Asval’s brow twitched.

The dragon had remained seated because every movement placed further strain upon his imperfect body.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter