We Live in Dragon’s Peak – Chapter 295

We live at the foothills of Dragon Peak.

The existence of my partner.

Storm Dragon Arts, confused Spirit Arts, and alternating battles anticipating long fights. Everything was a strategy that led us here.

First, using Storm Dragon Arts, we mixed the dispersed Orta and our Dragon Energy, disturbing the presence of Dragon Energy and preventing the surrounding situation from being grasped. Then, we prevented the field from being dominated. Next, Asher and Priscilla-chan’s Dragon Peak Labyrinth was the key. It turned the vast area into a labyrinth, making Orta unsure of his location. At the same time, by fighting in turns, we needed to mislead Orta into thinking we weren’t confusing him, but rather making him believe that those resting were being eliminated from the area.

Then, slowly and without being noticed, we confused and guided Orta.

Into the territory of the Shōjō.

The Dragon Offering Sword, which Wol and others had stolen and the Twin Princesses had protected, was also useful.

It wasn’t like a horse being dangled a carrot, but the Twin Princesses, without fleeing, continuously drew attention by displaying the stolen Dragon Offering Sword, thus luring us.

For Orta, who contained three Dragon Jewels, it was important to efficiently maximize his power. That’s why the Dragon Offering Sword, which could unleash the Dragon’s power as is, was something we absolutely had to reclaim.

Orta had fallen neatly into the trap.

Orta, staring at the hell behind him with astonished eyes and a hateful gaze, turned around.

“This… is what you were planning!”

“That’s right,” we all said, raising our weapons.

Just a little more. If we push a little harder, we can drop Orta into the Shōjō’s territory.

Orta, who had approached godhood, had no method visible for us to defeat him.
Perhaps I become the Demon Lord and defeat him at the Soul Spirit Seat?
I absolutely do not want to become a Demon Lord. I have no desire to rule over demons.
Perhaps seal him, as Laza-sama did?
This seemed like the most realistic option.
However, Laza-sama, one of the Eight Great Dragon Kings and the most skilled in Dragon Arts among the Dragon Race, had failed and allowed Orta to revive. Was there anyone who could replace her? And was it right to take away the life of the person in charge of the seal afterward?
We pondered, discussed, and arrived at a destination.

That was the Shōjō.

The Shōjō had remained in one place since early spring.
It was said to be a terrifying, top-tier magical beast that even the combined forces of all Dragon Race and Dragon Folk of Dragon Peak couldn’t defeat. It enveloped its territory in purgatorial flames, burning and devouring intruders with eternal fire.

No matter how immortal Orta was, constantly engulfed in flames and attacked by the Shōjō, he would be powerless.

It would provoke the Shōjō. We couldn’t solve this ourselves. Nevertheless, we bet on this plan.
To minimize sacrifices and restore peace to Dragon Peak. For that purpose, we would even utilize a ferocious magical beast!

The Dragon Kings and Dragon Folk, who knew my will and cooperated with the plan, surrounded Orta, and we made our final move.

From afar, the Dragon Race unleashed breaths of Dragon Arts all at once. We exerted our dying strength and unleashed our Dragon Lances!

“Ugaaaaaaaahhh!!”

Orta roared.
He unleashed the full power of the three Dragon Jewels within him, and his entire body was engulfed in golden and dark light. The ground between Orta and us rose, blocking the arts. It repelled the Dragon Lances with terrifying strength and bounced back the breaths of the Dragon Race.

“Fools!”

Orta, who had begun to rampage with the overflowing, surging power of the Dragon Jewels, shouted!

“You would use the Shōjō’s nest? I’ll use you instead!!”

Orta, of all things, directed his Dragon Arts towards the Shōjō’s nest.

The Shōjō’s nest was stable. It had remained in one place without moving. This was because it had not been stimulated from the outside.
However, it was not a magical beast that would passively endure an attack, even from outside the purgatorial flames marking its territory. If hostility was directed at it, it would surely retaliate.

If the Shōjō’s nest were attacked now, it might perceive the people of Dragon Peak as enemies and the Shōjō might go on a rampage!

The Dragon Kings held their breath.

“We won’t let you, everyone!”

Laira, riding Revalia, shouted from the sky. Then, the roars of the Earth Dragons, like the rumbling of the earth, echoed.

“What did you say!?”
If Orta can do it, there’s no reason the Dragon Race can’t.
This time, a strong wall appeared between Orta and the Shōjō’s nest behind him. It then repelled Orta’s Dragon Arts. The earth wall served its purpose and shattered.

“Those with wings attack. Earth Dragons defend. We’ve anticipated things you would think of, too!”
If we were to use the Shōjō, we assumed Orta would try to use it as well. Even a child would understand that.
That’s why we had asked the Earth Dragons to prepare for situations like this.

“Damn you all!!”
Frustrated by us and having his desperate Dragon Arts thwarted, Orta charged forward in rage and hatred.

“Now, for the final push!”
Sleny shouted, and we all kicked off the ground towards Orta.

I initiated a Spatial Jump, leaping into range. I engulfed my White Sword and Spirit Tree Wooden Sword in Dragon Energy and swung them, performing the Dragon Sword Dance.
However, the White Sword merely grazed the surface of Orta’s black leather armor. Even a blow from the Spirit Tree Wooden Sword couldn’t stop Orta’s charge.

Damn it!
At this critical moment, my techniques are useless. I can’t land effective blows against an opponent who overwhelms me with sheer power and force!
We’ve been fighting for days, and we’re exhausted. But that’s no excuse!
It’s just one more push!
We’re so close to defeating Orta!!

And yet, I can’t even stop Orta’s charge…

Orta doesn’t even consider me, who is no match for him. He brushed off my attacks and charged desperately away from the Shōjō’s nest.

Mistral swung down his One-handed Club. Orta blocked it with the Dragon Offering Sword and caught Zan’s punch with his left arm. A silver flame erupted, and his arm from the shoulder down exploded. But immediately after, it completely regenerated, and he deflected Sleny’s Dragon Arts.
He summoned Evil Dragons from behind and unleashed them at Wol and Heorona. Furthermore, he summoned Evil Dragons one after another.
Sestrinis’s dual axes were parried with a swing of the Dragon Offering Sword. He dodged Yakushion’s fist and counterattacked with a thick tail while rotating.
Jura’s sword strikes sliced through Orta’s entire body, but he healed from his wounds as soon as they appeared.
Wol’s Dragon Arts destabilized Orta’s footing, stopping his charge. Mistral’s blow plunged into the Dragon Race-like torso, blasting out blood and flesh.
Heorona’s spear stabbed into Orta’s chest.

Even so, Orta’s movements didn’t stop.
Orta, using Heorona’s spear as a weapon, raged.
The three Dragon Jewels had apparently begun to go berserk, and a wild Dragon Energy enveloped Orta, emitting an unusual presence.
The Dragon Offering Sword glowed golden. His entire body emitted dark light, and the fractured ground shook violently.
Unformed Dragon Arts were unleashed in all directions.
The Dragon Kings evaded, and the Earth Dragons blocked anything heading towards the Shōjō’s nest. Winged Dragons and Wyverns that dodged the aerial attacks retaliated with their own breaths.

Orta knew he was cornered. He took all the Dragon Race’s attacks without retreating an inch. His arms were blown off, his limbs scattered. His torso was reduced to red meat scraps, and his face was blown away.
Yet, Orta regenerated instantly.

“Don’t falter. Push through!”
Jura gave the order, and another full-scale assault began.

I too, mustering all my strength, attacked Orta.
And yet.
While Heorona’s and Jura’s weapons sliced Orta to pieces, and Zan’s and Yakushion’s bodies sent Orta flying, my attacks only had the power of a child’s play.

Compared to the Dragon Kings, am I still useless? Is it exhaustion, or am I becoming pessimistic?

“Why are you holding back?”
Zan, who had turned the Evil Dragons to ash with his silver flame, looked at me.

Holding back? Me? The unexpected words left me bewildered.

“What is that in your right hand?”
I followed Zan’s question and looked down at my right hand. Even without looking, I knew. It was the White Sword I was gripping.

“That is something entrusted to you by the guardian of the Dragon Forest, who sacrificed himself, is it not?”
Yes. The White Sword was undoubtedly forged from the sharpest fangs of Old Man Sleigsta.

“Did the guardian of the Dragon Forest give you a dull weapon?”
“No, it’s not like that!”
I ended up retorting with a sharp tone.

“Then, I’ll ask again. What is it?”
“This… is the White Sword. A sword imbued with the attribute of Dragon Slayer.”
“Precisely. To us, it is a terrifying weapon.”
Mistral had said so. The White Sword harbors the attribute of Dragon Slayer. It is a threat to the Dragon Race and Dragon Folk, so handle it with care.

“Aren’t you misunderstanding? Camaraderie and familiarity are different things.”
What do you mean? I pondered, and then understood Zan’s words.
I…
Unconsciously, I had dulled the White Sword.

I watched Revalia, carrying Laira on his back, soar through the sky with wild ferocity.
A Wyvern, known as a tyrant, that had instilled fear in all inhabitants of Dragon Peak.
I had fought Revalia once.
I had confronted Revalia when he attacked the Chicken Dragon’s nest and had inflicted a fatal wound.
The weapon I held in my hand at that time was indeed the White Sword.

The White Sword that inflicted a fatal wound on the terrifyingly powerful tyrant Revalia is ineffective against Orta?
That can’t be right.
Orta’s black leather armor appears to be woven with Dragon Energy. Orta, with his overwhelming Dragon Energy. But is his leather armor truly more resilient than Revalia’s scales?
Does it possess enough defensive power to deflect a Dragon Slayer weapon forged from the fangs of an Ancient Species like Old Man Sleigsta?

No.
That can’t be true.
There can’t be many beings against whom Old Man Sleigsta’s fangs are ineffective.
Then why was the White Sword ineffective?
My heart was the cause.

Before setting foot in Dragon Peak. I perceived the Dragon Race as terrifying beings. I had met Old Man Sleigsta and Nimia, who were Ancient Species, and Asher. I had encountered a Wyvern that had become a Rotten Dragon.
But, the perception that the Dragon Race was still a terrifying existence remained.
Therefore, even when fighting Revalia, I could swing the White Sword without hesitation.

However, after that.
I became close with the Chicken Dragons, became friends with the Earth Dragons and the Dragon Race of the Dragon Peak Alliance. Even with Revalia, who was feared as a tyrant, I grew close and learned that dragons could be understood.

I was also treated kindly by Mistral and many others among the Dragon Folk, and I quickly became comfortable with them.

However, due to these things, I began to avoid pointing the White Sword at the Dragon Race and Dragon Folk.

The Dragon Race and Dragon Folk are not enemies. The White Sword, which is a threat to such beings, is a dangerous weapon.
This budding unconsciousness became the cause of the White Sword’s dulled edge.
I, who had unknowingly begun to negate the White Sword’s power, gradually spread that negative influence.
The hesitation with which I wielded the White Sword must have caused its sharpness to diminish, even against opponents other than dragons and dragon folk.

And because it was unconscious, I hadn’t noticed it, further dulling the White Sword.

But, that’s not it.

Whether they are Dragon Race or Dragon Folk. Anyone who attempts to harm Dragon Peak or our family is an enemy. Friendship and familiarity have no bearing on this.

Zan was saying that.
Orta before me is a being that brings disaster to Dragon Peak, and he is an enemy.
One must not show mercy or leniency to enemies.
Otherwise, we will be the ones who lose, and everyone else will be sad.

How foolish am I.
No, that’s not right. My training is still insufficient. Both in skill and heart.
If that’s the case, then without growing arrogant, I must simply try my best in each battle.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized to the White Sword in my heart.
I had dulled the best weapon. I had negated my unique, reliable partner.
I tightened my grip. I clenched the White Sword in my right hand.
Then, with newfound determination, I gazed at the rampaging Orta.

I felt a strong pulsation from the White Sword I gripped.
This is the White Sword.
A weapon that resides in my right hand, possessing power that even the Holy Sword of a Hero cannot match.

The White Sword deepened its pure white hue and began to emit a faint, pale white light.
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