Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 218: The Dragon (2)

The dragon spoke, and with that single, resonant word, the very fabric of space warped and convulsed.

The shadows clinging to the dragon were obliterated in an instant, bursting apart and reverting to mere ordinary darkness. All at once, Spellweaver’s carefully crafted magic became as ephemeral as mist in the sun.

“Argh!” Fiego shouted. It, too, suffered under the wave of force. The flames that composed its body peeled away, unable to withstand the onslaught. Its once-mighty, bullish form unraveled, the primordial fire dispersing into the air.

Seraphina’s eyes widened in horror as the shockwave swept toward her. Instinctively, she gathered the power of her divine avatar, wrapping herself in the Sun God’s protection.

However, as the wave struck, her shield of holy light shattered like glass, splintering into fragments that scattered and vanished. Seraphina reeled from the blow, her legs nearly buckling beneath her.

“What is this?!” she gasped, her voice shaking with disbelief.

Spellweaver threw up his hands, conjuring a barrier in a desperate bid to protect himself, but the force simply shredded his defenses, sending him tumbling helplessly across the cavern floor.

However, standing closest to the dragon, Bloodedge bore the brunt of the backlash. His focus had been so utterly devoted to channeling his power through his sword that his body was left virtually unguarded. The force struck him like a battering ram, hurling him backwards with breathtaking speed.

Defensively, he tried to brace himself, but the sheer magnitude of the force made all attempts futile. He was on a collision course with the far wall, a blow that might very well have ended him.

In that moment, Ketal moved. Moving with a speed that blurred the air, he lunged forward and seized Bloodedge mid-flight, steadying him before he could crash.

“Are you alright?” Ketal asked him, voice calm but laced with concern.

Bloodedge winced, shaking from the impact but alive. “Th-thank you.”

Seraphina gritted her teeth, trying to make sense of the devastation. They had been at a disadvantage, yes, but not so thoroughly overwhelmed. They had managed to defend themselves until suddenly, everything unraveled.

Dragging himself upright, Spellweaver whispered in horror, “Dragon Tongue...”

He remembered now that in a dragon’s speech lay power. With a single word, the entire tide of battle had turned against them.

Spellweaver felt a crushing weight of despair. In that instant, he realized the vast chasm between their strength and the dragon’s. The Wandering Merchant had given them this quest, which should have meant victory was within reach. Yet, the reality before him defied all understanding.

“Grraaah.” The dragon watched them with contempt, a rumbling laugh vibrating in its chest. It inhaled deeply, preparing to unleash its breath again.

The party, battered and broken, tried to scramble for cover, but their defenses had already been annihilated by the dragon’s words. If the breath struck again, there would be no hope of surviving it.

Whoosh!

Scarlet flames roared forth, consuming everything in their path. They faced death itself. At that critical moment, Ketal stepped forward.

***

The dragon’s breath surged forth, an all-consuming tide of fire that melted primordial flame and unmade even the laws of magic. Yet, Ketal strode forward to meet it, unarmed and unafraid.

“Ketal!” Seraphina cried, her eyes wide with alarm.

The dragon sneered at the sight. Its expression mocked the very idea that this lone human believed he could defy its fire, as though this human could ever stand against the power that had humbled all the others.

However, Ketal did not flinch. He answered with action. He clenched his fist, drew back his arm, and unleashed a punch into the surging inferno.

The mighty dragon’s breath, which had overwhelmed three highest-level Transcendents, collided head-on with the force of a single human blow. The flames burst apart, dissipating in an explosive shockwave that shook the lair and blew the fire into harmless embers.

“Grraah?” For the first time, the dragon’s composure cracked. It stared at Ketal, bewildered.

Ketal pressed his advantage, hurling himself at the dragon with lightning speed. He closed the distance in an instant, reared back, and struck the dragon’s chest with another devastating punch. The impact echoed through the lair as the dragon’s immense body crashed into the wall, sending dust and splinters of stone flying.

“Grraaah!” A pained cry tore from the dragon’s throat as it thrashed on the ground, agony etched into every line of its titanic frame.

Ketal nodded to himself, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Sturdy, aren’t you?”

The rest of the party stood in stunned silence, eyes wide.

“Ketal...?”

“Wait, are you...?”

“You lunatic...! Now you finally decide to move...” Fiego managed to reconstitute itself, its voice weak and trembling.

Ketal was someone who moved only when his curiosity was piqued. The world itself was nothing more than a playground in his eyes. The lives of his companions meant little to him—at least, that’s what Fiego had always assumed. It had not expected Ketal to step in.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ketal said. “The situation was... complicated. I couldn’t move before, not when I wasn’t sure what the observer intended. But now, I have no choice.”

“You make no sense...,” Fiego replied.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve done well. Return to the spirit realm. I’ll see to your reward later.”

“Please, never call me again...”

“That’s not an option.”

“Damn you...” With a final grumble, Fiego vanished back into the spirit world.

Still reeling, the dragon managed to haul itself upright. It stared at Ketal, confusion and disbelief burning in its eyes. It had never encountered a human who could do this. The confusion rapidly curdled into rage.

Magic circles blazed into existence in the air, dozens appearing around the dragon as it summoned torrents of pure mana. The energy surged toward Ketal, a storm meant to obliterate anything in its path.

Ketal moved forward, utterly unbothered. He broke through the maelstrom, shattering the magic with his bare hands and crushing the attacks beneath his feet. The dragon’s power could not even slow him down.

Again, he stood before the dragon. Desperate, the dragon conjured layer upon layer of defensive spells, barriers stacking until they blotted out the light. However, Ketal only sighed. With a single blow, he shattered every defense. Barriers flickered and died, magic collapsing as if it had never existed.

Standing over the dragon, Ketal hesitated for the first time. A pang of guilt prickled at his chest.

“To think I’d end up doing this to a dragon...,” Ketal muttered.

He had always admired dragons. To break one with his own hands felt like smashing an irreplaceable work of art, a masterpiece worth more than the world itself. He’d felt something similar when he’d fought other mythical beings, but this was different. This was the epitome of fantasy.

“There’s no helping it.” Ketal steeled himself, then struck the dragon’s belly.

The flesh caved under the force, the dragon’s massive body slamming into the wall once more.

“Graaah!” The dragon screamed in pain.

Ketal didn’t let up. He lunged forward again, even as the dragon whipped its head about wildly in a last-ditch defense.

“Begone!” The dragon spat its words, imbuing them with the primal magic of its race.

Ketal felt the force trying to hurl him away. His body lurched, pushed back by the power of dragon speech. However, he dug in his heels.

“No,” he replied, voice level and unyielding.

The world trembled. The force that tried to expel him cracked and collapsed. Again, Ketal’s fist hammered into the dragon.

“BEGONE!” The dragon roared, pouring even more power into its words, trying to banish Ketal from its lair. The very air warped, space itself beginning to twist and bend, threatening to tear him from reality.

“I said no,” Ketal said.

Ketal’s body surged with power, shattering the distortion. He seized the dragon by the head and slammed it to the ground with overwhelming force. The others could only watch in mute astonishment.

“What is this...?”

“I thought he was just a spirit contractor...”

From the party’s perspective, Ketal had always been known as a formidable spirit user, a master of mystical contracts. No one had suspected that his physical prowess would be this extraordinary.

“A Hero...,” Seraphina muttered..

Spellweaver managed a weak, incredulous laugh. “So that’s how it is. We were just extras, weren’t we?”

They realized now why the Wandering Merchant had demanded such a high price from them. They had not been brought together to slay the dragon, but to stand in the presence of the real protagonist.

Boom!

The dragon crashed into the wall again, its enormous body shuddering with the impact. Ketal flexed his fingers.

“Tough. I’m not even holding back that much, but it’s still taking it,” Ketal muttered. He eyed the axe at his side, fingers brushing the handle.

I want to end this cleanly, he thought. I need the Dragon Heart intact to claim the Myst. If I’m careless, I could ruin everything.

He pondered how to strike without leaving a mark, while the dragon stared at him in disbelief. The dragon could not comprehend what was going on. It was a sovereign of the world, and right now, it was being overwhelmed by a mere human.

It was a dragon—the master of the world.

“I am the ruler of the world!” The dragon’s roar shook the lair as it bellowed its fury. With that, the very air shifted. The boundaries of space twisted, bending to the dragon’s will. The chamber itself warped, a new space blooming into existence around them. “Come into my domain!”

Space expanded, pulling both Ketal and the dragon into a newly formed, massive sphere at the lair’s center. Within moments, the two vanished from view, swallowed by the gray light.

The rest of the party watched in shock.

“What just happened?”

“Where did they go?”

The phenomenon was so far beyond their experience that they could hardly begin to comprehend it.

In the confusion, the boy who had been left behind spoke up, perfectly calm. “It’s a domain.”

“A domain?” Spellweaver echoed.

The boy nodded, eyes narrowing. “The dragon is creating a domain where it has the advantage. Dragons are huge. In this lair, the space is too cramped for it to use its full power.”

“Ah, I see.” Spellweaver nodded thoughtfully.

The boy’s eyes glinted, as if savoring the spectacle. “But still... He’s strong. Really strong.”

“Yes...,” Seraphina murmured, awe creeping into her voice.

“Even for a newly grown dragon, one who can barely use Dragon Tongue, let alone true draconic magic, it’s supposed to extinguish any human in existence... I didn’t think Ketal would be on top.”

“So even this is considered weak among dragons...?” Seraphina breathed, wonder in her tone. As she marveled, she suddenly noticed something odd. “Wait, Ian. Why are you here?”

Ian, whom they had told to wait outside, now stood among them in the lair.

“This is dangerous. You should go back,” Seraphina said calmly, concern in her voice.

However, Ian ignored her, glancing around the lair with a faint look of distaste.

“So gaudy,” the boy murmured. “Jewels should be for accenting beauty, not overwhelming it. Whoever decorated this place had no sense of restraint. But I suppose that’s to be expected from a child, easily distracted by shiny things.”

“Ian...?” Seraphina called, puzzled by the sudden change in his demeanor. Something was wrong. The way Ian spoke, the air around him, was nothing like a normal child. However, Seraphina didn’t seem to notice. She just kept trying to shepherd him away.

“This is dangerous. You should leave,” she said, her voice gentle.

“Wait,” Bloodedge said sharply, grabbing Seraphina’s arm and pulling her back.

“Huh? What are you...?” Seraphina stumbled after him, confusion clouding her face, as though she couldn’t even recognize the abnormality in front of her.

Ian seemed utterly uninterested in their reaction. He paid no attention to the others, as though he were a person watching ants crawl by the side of the road, utterly beneath his notice.

He muttered to himself, “Even hidden like this, he noticed who I am... Is he really from Inside?”

“Who are you...?” Bloodedge asked Ian, voice strained with caution.

“Oh, right. I still look like this, don’t I?” Ian replied, as if only now recalling his appearance.

With that, his form shimmered and twisted. The illusion faded, and a new figure emerged, a woman of striking, voluptuous beauty.

She had a mane of brilliant red hair, and her eyes were a matching, hypnotic crimson. She wore a flowing scarlet dress, her stature impressive. She was taller than even Bloodedge by a full head.

The moment her disguise dropped, a crushing presence descended on the group. Seraphina gasped, her breath caught in her throat.

“Sorry, everyone. I meant to act sooner, but I was busy playing mind games with him,” the woman said, gesturing toward where Ketal and the dragon had vanished. She turned to the party, her eyes glinting with mischief and satisfaction. “This journey has been delightful, especially you, Seraphina. Thank you for protecting me. And you, Bloodedge... you were kind enough to humor me even when you saw through my act.”

She smiled, radiant and dangerous. “It was an incredibly satisfying bit of fun. So... really, thank you for your efforts.”

***

At those words, a wave of exhaustion swept through the party.

For a moment, it was as though all the tension, all the anxiety and effort of their quest, simply melted away. A deep, lingering sense of fulfillment and relief took hold, a sensation so complete that they felt as if their life’s work was finished and they could retire right there, without regret.

However, they fought that oncoming feeling. Spellweaver, Bloodedge, and Seraphina all clenched their fists, refusing to surrender. They pushed through the artificial satisfaction, banishing the spell with sheer force of will.

The woman tilted her head, impressed. “Oh? I only meant to let you rest, but you fought it off. You’re the kind who can keep walking even after reaching the end of the road, aren’t you?”

“Wh-who... who are you?” Bloodedge’s sword was in his hand now, and he backed away, eyes narrowed in dread. Spellweaver prepared another spell, while Seraphina’s hands glowed with divine power. Their faces were masks of shock and wariness.

The pressure from the woman’s presence was overwhelming. Even as the highest-level Transcendents, they struggled to breathe in her presence. A normal Transcendent would have been crushed outright.

The woman stood in a realm they could not even perceive.

Spellweaver’s voice trembled as he whispered, “There’s... another Hero among us.”