A dragon clad in white steel.
An existence far surpassing ordinary bandits, with scales made of metal.
At the emergence of this grotesque being, never before seen in history, the guards froze.
Only a select few could move in such a situation.
Those who constantly encountered even stronger beings or those capable of overcoming fear out of duty.
Aslan belonged to both categories.
The moment the dragon raised its head, Aslan’s mind replayed a past battle.
The scene where Lumel threw a white steel spear that melted against the chimera.
Upon recalling this, Aslan instantly devised and executed a plan.
In an ordinary situation, making such a judgment would have taken several seconds, but Aslan completed it in an instant.
For he was a veteran of combat.
“Harrod, Tiamat!”
The veteran shouted immediately upon making his judgment.
“Prepare your arrows!”
“What, what?”
“Angie, Ereta, Lumel, Richard, Phey! Everyone, attack!”
Simple sentences composed of brief commands. Among the traveling party, only Harrod showed confusion upon hearing these words.
While Harrod muttered in bewilderment, Aslan turned around the beast and returned to his position behind it.
Clang, the sound of meshing metals. Immediately, Aslan drew two weapons.
One was Resham.
The weapon left by the Warrior God, truly a tool for warriors, capable of freely changing form.
The other was a feather from Steamfalos. The feather of a cloak that had long served Aslan, also doubling as a dagger.
“Purity.”
As Aslan murmured, the feather transformed into a sword blazing with pure white flames.
A blade of transcendent cutting power, forged from purity and divine energy, capable of severing even beings composed solely of spirit and divine power.
Aslan gripped this blade in his left hand for defense.
Since its transcendent cutting power applied only to things not made of white steel, the true weapon was Resham.
Changing Resham into a spear and gripping it diagonally, Aslan ran toward the dragon with both weapons in hand.
Simultaneously rushing toward the dragon, each member of Aslan’s group adopted different stances and weapons as they charged.
The dragon, clad in white steel, had to make a choice.
Between the crimson-haired woman who had cut off its wing and the man who had slaughtered one of its kin with a single blow.
It didn’t take long to decide. After all, it was merely a beast. The dragon immediately raised its foreleg high and struck down at Aslan.
KAAAAANG!
A strike so overwhelming that anyone else would have been crushed under the weight that could press down even the head of a god made of white steel.
But Aslan deflected it with Purity.
Even Supreme Divinity’s Sword couldn’t subdue him.
There were no cracks spreading across the ground. His flesh didn’t tear, nor did his bones break. The immense weight never reached Aslan, thanks to Purity.
No trembling, no counterforce. While the dragon was momentarily stunned by this phenomenon, Angie closed in and swung her sword with a shout.
“DIE!”
KWAANG!
A crude swing fueled by sheer brute force, hardly resembling a proper sword technique. But the strength behind it was anything but crude.
The dragon’s body was sent flying back from the impact of the small woman’s strike.
It flew toward a wall of the temple, a quiet corner devoid of people.
KWAGGAGANG!
The dragon tumbled along the ground, dragging pieces of the temple’s debris with it.
Far from the direction where people were gathered, the dragon sprawled on the ground. The mayor, who had moved to protect those people, quickly reassessed the situation and thrust his sword forward.
“What are you doing? Are you planning to leave the safety of this city to them?! Is Surethor not our city?!”
As Aslan’s group charged toward the dragon and others swung their weapons at the fallen beast,
Mayor Airon raised his sword high and shouted.
“Defend the city, proud soldiers of the Empire! Preserve your dignity and honor!”
And with sword and shield in hand, he charged toward the dragon.
Naturally, the guards couldn’t hesitate either. For the city, for the mayor, for their families, they took up their weapons and charged.
Something an ordinary mayor wouldn’t have done.
It was possible precisely because he was a Guardian.
A newly established position after the disgraceful incident where some Watchers served an Evil Deity and became high-ranking priests.
A position requiring broad martial skills to counter the Watchers, good lineage, noble status, and loyalty to the Empire.
A direct solution to corruption among priests within the Empire.
Among these, Airon, the retired Guardian and current mayor, lowered his visor as he charged and made a judgment.
He wasn’t sure who they were or what they were after.
But he was certain that the key lay with those two dragons and the ones creating fiery arrows.
The rest seemed like a delaying tactic.
Thus, as the mayor, he couldn’t step back. Lowering his body behind the shield, Airon charged forward.
Toward the charging tail aimed at him, he stopped just before it hit, slid down, and tilted his shield.
KA-GA-GA-GAK, KAAANG!
The sweeping tail, a strike powerful enough to bury his arm deep into his body upon impact, was deflected by skilled shieldwork.
Through the gaps between the deflecting attacks, Mayor Airon gripped his sword diagonally and lunged forward.
KWAZZICK!
The precise strike found the gap between the tail’s scales. Blood flowed as the dragon roared in pain, and Airon, hidden beneath his visor, glanced around and shouted.
“Here, foothold!”
His words were directed toward a girl. An elf capable of reaching supersonic speeds.
Seeing Green (unspecified gender) crouch and tilt the shield, Phey wasted no time and dashed forward.
DO-DODODO, KWANG! With sounds like these, the elf girl leaped off the shield, widening the wound the mayor had inflicted.
GO-O-O-O-O-O-O!
The dragon screamed in agony. Its wild swipe missed Phey entirely and swung uselessly into the air, allowing Resham to exploit the opening and slash deeply into the tail.
CHACK! Blood sprayed across the floor as the severed chunk of tail rolled away, still covered in white steel scales. Watching this, Airon shouted.
“Crossfire! Keep it disoriented! Aim for the head!”
The guards followed with their volleys. They aimed high, careful not to hit their allies, targeting the dragon’s head.
‘Amazing. Is this how strong Guardians can be?’
Aslan watched in amazement. Both leadership and personal combat prowess were undeniable.
If things continued like this, they might end the battle more smoothly. Aslan ran into the dragon’s field of vision and leapt upward.
As if expecting Aslan to dodge or block.
The dragon couldn’t resist the bait.
Its foreleg swung immediately, cutting through the air with a heavy roar. Aslan blocked it with Purity.
KAAAANG!
A clear metallic clang echoed as the foreleg was halted mid-strike. It felt as though the world itself had stood firm. While the dragon hesitated, Aslan thought inwardly.
‘Thunder call.’
KURRURURUNG!
As a faint glow wrapped around the pristine white, the massive body of the dragon was pushed back.
When the dragon collided with the wall, stones exploded outward as it let out a pained roar.
Landing gracefully, Aslan watched as the dragon swallowed its rage and attacked again.
The wildly swinging forelegs came at Aslan. In response, he changed Resham into a gauntlet and gripped Purity with both hands.
Facing the foreleg that sought to crush everything in its path, Aslan swung Purity.
KAAAANG!
Of course, it couldn’t slice through.
But the balance of order embedded within Purity was enough to halt even overwhelming force.
Then another foreleg swung at him.
Against the relentless, violent strikes coming from both sides, Aslan continuously swung Purity with both hands.
The descending foreleg. He parried it from below.
The sweeping side attack. He flipped his wrist and thrust the sword tip forward to block it.
The diagonal strike. He flipped his wrist again and countered with a diagonal upward slash.
As the exchange of blows continued, the guards watched in awe.
The sight of someone exchanging blows with such an overwhelming creature was undeniably surreal.
As a result, the dragon failed to notice the two dragon-hunters.
While Aslan deflected the continuous strikes, the group kept attacking.
“HAAAT!”
With a short yell, Lumel thrust his golden spear, electrocuting the dragon by piercing between its scales.
KARA-RARARAK, WHARRRRK!
Ereta heated her axe to ignite flames, causing the dragon to stumble.
EEEEEK, KWA-A-ANG!
Like a crimson lightning bolt, Phey soared in and planted a dropkick on the dragon’s head.
“HUH!”
The dragon’s head shook, disorienting it. The reflexive tail swing was deflected by Richard, who let out a yell and used compliance to redirect it.
Thrown off balance, the dragon fell over. The dragon, encased in white steel, with the raw strength and weight to crush even divine flesh, now felt despair.
That despair was justified.
Because mere dragons couldn’t stop those who had killed high-ranking priests and genuinely sought to destroy an Evil Deity.
And Aslan’s mistake lay there.
Failing to realize that this wasn’t a mistake but an intention.
Unaware of this, Aslan thought it was time to finish when he felt the heat from behind.
Switching Purity to reverse grip and transforming Resham, which had been in the shape of a gauntlet, into a crow-beak warhammer, Aslan blocked the incoming foreleg with Purity.
The clanging metal sound rang out as sparks of white fire scattered. Tilting Purity, Aslan revealed the foreleg’s claws.
Toward those claws, Aslan brought down the warhammer.
Using Purity as an anvil, the claw broke easily despite being made of the same white steel, scattering into fragments.
KAAANG!
And Aslan leaned back, lowering his stance.
‘Thunder call.’
KURRURURUNG!
With the thunderous sound, Aslan’s body was pushed backward. Retreating, he shouted.
“Tiamat!”
“Yeah, it’s my turn, old man!”
As Ereta caught the retreating Aslan, everyone created distance from the dragon.
Finally, the dragon realized what the humans were aiming for.
PASH, PA-SHICK!
Mechanical cracks formed on a mesmerizing bow. On its string, a blazing arrow akin to a rising sun was forming.
The 2.5-meter-tall dragon archer wielding an arrow made of plasma.
Just as the dragon hesitated and tried to retreat.
“It’s already too late!”
Tiamat roared ferociously and fired an arrow four times larger than usual.
TUNG!
The arrow struck the dragon.
KWA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA!
The ferocious sound filled the temple.
Plasma rippled through the holes in the walls, and the dragon roasted under the plasma, presenting a spectacular scene.
Most people inside the temple stared blankly at the sight.
It was a scene that could only be described as victory.
A sight that left no doubt about their triumph.
Only Resham and Mayor Airon maintained their vigilance.
Which is why, when someone suddenly burst from among the guards, they knew who the target was.
KWADDEOK!
The gruesome sound of flesh being crushed. Even though he reflexively raised his sword to block, his entire left arm was crushed along with the blade.
Resham was sent flying. Amidst the splattering blood, the guards couldn’t even turn their heads in panic when the mayor shouted.
“A tyrant! A high priest, a tyrant! Stop him, don’t let him reach the dragon…!”
KWACH!
The mayor’s words were cut short.
His armor was pierced by a back kick, sending him flying to crash into the temple wall.
Through the dust, it moved gracefully.
A blonde, golden-eyed man disguised as a guard, wearing a guard’s uniform.
As the guards in his path were torn apart and scattered, Aslan finally saw the Tyrant amidst the chaos.
He wasn’t the Tyrant Aslan knew from the game.
Not the lion-like giant three meters tall.
Something was off. It needed to be stopped.
Without time to explain or give orders, Aslan leaned forward.
And whispered in his heart.
‘Thunder call.’
The third thunder call of the day.
‘Acceleration.’
The magic born from Astrid’s farewell.
KURRURURUNG!
Through these, Aslan accelerated. The Tyrant, mid-leap toward the dragon, rolled his eyes and responded.
Seeing Aslan approaching, he glanced and twisted his body, extending his arm.
Recognizing the motion, Aslan altered the trajectory of his sword strike to aim for the neck. To avoid the neck-targeting sword strike, the Tyrant twisted his body.
In the harmony of these movements, Pureness and the arm finally met.
KWAZ-ZI-ZICK!
Flesh flew, and shards of broken bone mingled with streams of crimson gore.
Aslan’s eyes widened, and the Tyrant smiled.
Though clearly aiming for the neck, Aslan’s sword had merely sliced through the arm.
In the final moment, the Tyrant had twisted his body significantly, predicting Aslan’s sword trajectory and inserting his arm to block it.
Skill far exceeding Aslan’s expectations. Then, as the Tyrant twisted his waist, Aslan, startled, changed Resham into a shield.
The side kick landed squarely on that shield.
KWA-A-A-ANG!
Aslan was sent flying. Meanwhile, the Tyrant effortlessly regenerated the severed arm.
Before Aslan’s group could comprehend the situation and instinctively react, he extended his arm.
The arm split down the middle and transformed.
Into a shape reminiscent of a massive beast’s maw.
Without hesitation or delay, it bit into the dragon’s head.
KWADDEUK!
The dragon, thrashing and dying, collapsed limply as its head disappeared into the gaping maw with a vacant expression.
YUJIK, YUJIK, YUJIK!
What followed was the chaos engulfing countless humans.
“What, what is…!”
“Mayor! Mayor!”
“Aslan?! What is…?”
“Attack, that bastard…!”
“Save me, get me out of here!”
Confused guards, Aslan’s group trying to grasp the situation while watching him fly, the barely shouting mayor, and terrified citizens.
“No, no way…!”
Amid this, Resham gasped and shouted.
She looked at the man standing upright despite his shoulder being torn off.
The man who had somehow become naked.
The man whose body was slowly growing pure white scales.
And once again, thunder rumbled.
KURRURURUNG!
Accelerating Aslan. Approaching at a speed akin to a darting arrow, wielding a sword blazing with pristine white flames.
Resham knew Aslan’s action was a mistake, and the Tyrant knew it too.
Only Aslan himself was unaware of what was about to happen.
KAA-A-A-ANG!
A sword that not even Supreme Divinity’s Sword could block, capable of slicing through legendary blades.
Pureness.
Executing an ultimate strike honed to its limits with this sword.
That strike was merely blocked by an arm.
KAGAGAK.
Not only blocked but even pushed back.
By the Tyrant, entirely covered in scales, whose abilities and appearance differed completely from the game.
Beyond the arm blocking the sword and its path, the Tyrant smiled, and Aslan was bewildered.
Facing each other with differing expressions, the Tyrant spoke.
“I wanted to meet you, Aslan.”
In a very cheerful tone, curling his unused right fist.
“And die.”
He bid farewell by throwing that punch.
A steel-clad fist, reinforced with white steel, shot toward Aslan’s head.
