Even facedown with a mind that barely clung to consciousness, he managed to defend himself while the healing magic tended to his tender, broken body. Collisions constantly filled his ringing ears as stone clashed against stone; new walls sprouted each time they were shattered, using the material from the broken shields.
“–No! No! No! Impossible! Something like this…it’s impossible!” The chief roared out.
The levitating appendages were held back by the unending walls, allowing for the healing magic to stretch across the boy’s body as it began to mend his bones. Fractures were reversed; ivory filled in the gaps as his twisted joints cracked and shifted around to their proper form.
Slowly, his body reconfigured itself, allowing him to weakly pick himself up with trembling arms. He didn’t manage to stitch all of his wounds together–not by a long shot, but he gave himself just enough to avoid the grasp of death and to continue fighting.
“–” He looked up with those same, utterly resolved eyes of his.
“Gh!” The chief’s words were caught in his throat.
Though the dragon blood within him had quelled, there was no mistaking the ferocity of a beast still burned within him.
It was the act that was at the pinnacle and origin of humanity; using the flame that burned within to spur that engine inside; a heart thumped with the will to live. In that moment, the act of standing up once more was more than enough for a further development:
[Level Up!]
[Level Nine Achieved.]
“I can’t fall for a simple reason: my defeat means something. It’s not just about my own death or pride, but on my shoulders–there’s a lot,” he spoke quietly through a hoarse voice as blood trickled down his forehead, “…If I fall, the people–the good people that came here with me, they might fall, too. I have to do my part. And if I fall, my mom will cry, and my father will have to console her…I don’t want to imagine those two goofballs being all gloomy. So…”.
“Silence!” The chief boomed.
“Fine by me. I was just speaking my mind,” He looked forward, inhaling and exhaling smoothly.
“Do you truly believe my defeat would mean nothing? Who are you, child, leader of nothing, encumbered by nothing? I am the chief elder of the Outriders!” The chief roared, “I stand at the pinnacle of my clan! I am royalty!”
Just breathing hurts, he thought, my lungs are bruised. I’m exhausted, but…I’ve still got mana. I’ll end this now. Just go with the flow; follow that same feeling like before–it was so seamless; like guiding a kite perfectly within a nice breeze.
In his hand, he still held onto the handle of his sword firmly, using his right hand to begin weaving an unknown spell. Just the sight of the boy beginning to conjure magecraft spurred the rattled chief to act, who began to slam the bottom of his staff down.
As the massive staff, which resembled a tree in size and appearance, slammed down, a loud thud echoed off of the walls as an invocation poured from Chief Omana’s lips: “Jungle of Predators: Man-Eating Traps!”
With the spell beginning to shift into reality, commanding vines to sprout from the walls and blossom into massive plants that resembled venus flytraps, but with a much larger size and ferocious vine-whips accompanying them, he continued weaving his own spell.
“Inspiration,” it was key for a mage, and for one of his talent, he was limited only by his knowledge, experience, and creativity.
Throughout the fight, learning from his own strengths and weaknesses, he found the “inspiration” for a new spell altogether; one that required meticulous, precise usage of three elements: stone, fire, and wind.
“What…?” The chief watched.
It began to form.
Stone rattled, pebbles vibrated before coalescing, meshing into one, large chunk that shaped itself naturally. The rigid, undefined rock took on the form of a dragon with heavy wings. It was large enough for him to jump up atop its back, but the chief failed to see how the spell could be used to any merit.
Simply put, the stone dragon was too dense and lacked any driving force within it. With such weight and using a stagnant element, flight would be impossible. However, this is where the other elements came in.
A breeze kicked in, swirling and building up around the rock dragon, focusing on its form and enveloping it carefully.
“…Phew…” He exhaled slowly, focusing.
He stayed on one knee, keeping one hand against the back of the rock-formed dragon while his sword was gripped in the other.
As the man-eating plants protruded from the walls, surrounding him, the wind built up, guiding the winds to begin flapping as the dragon lifted.
“…A desperate, last ditch effort? I’ll applaud your skill, human, but you’ve already lost!” The silver-furred chief yelled.
Then, the flame was born.
Kept alit within the interior of the magically-chiseled dragon, the flame burned as the wind hissed, allowing the mystical familiar to begin soaring through the chamber now as the boy stood atop its back with an exhausted smile of success.
“Dragonheart: Mountain Soarer!”
The newly-crafted spell was born; he rode atop its back through the chamber as the gargantuan plants closed in.
“What?!” The chief yelled out in surprise, slamming his staff down to invoke more of the plants.
Flames spewed from the maw of the stone dragon, burning up the big-mouthed plantlife in their path; he assisted with swings of his sword, increasing his cutting power and range with slices of wind.
The sheer number of carnivorous plants made no difference in the presence of the sea of flames; smoke billowed as the stone dragon’s wings flapped with great strength, carrying him closer to the chief.
As the human drew closer, the elder stumbled back, glancing back in fright as he found the wall directly behind him.
Out of fear, the chief of the Outriders yelled out another invocation, “Nature’s Protect–”
The words were stifled in the chief’s lungs, blocking out his words as the massive demi-human gasped for air, finding nothing in those pivotal moments.
What’s this…? The chief questioned, grasping at his throat, It’s as if the air vanished from my lungs…!
As the elder placed his gaze forward, he saw the bruised-and-bloodied human boy aiming his hand towards him from a distance, still closing the distance. It was clear now what had happened, yet it was a frightening discovery for the elder.
He…used wind magic to take the air from my lungs?! The chief realized.
It was a gamble; such surgical precision was required in chaotic circumstances that he had to rely more on chance than skill, but it worked. The effect was only for a few seconds before the chief began to breathe again, but it was enough–that small amount of time allotted gave the boy the opportunity to close in.
“You’re so scared, yet you haven’t felt a damn thing yet! I’ve been getting knocked around left and right, and I’m still charging at you head on–me, just a “boy”, like you said!” He yelled out from the top of his lungs, “Don’t try and hide now! I’m coming for you, Omana!”
“Grk…!” The chief fell silent.
He lowered himself, flexing his legs as he focused a swirl of wind at his heels. It was the aspect of magic he was least experienced with, but he utilized everything he had for this final effort: “Reinforcement.” It was the implementation of mana as an amplifier for one’s physical capabilities.
Using this, he centered it on his legs, allowing himself to spring off of the dragon’s back into a swift leap as he soared towards the head of the chief.
“…Ngh…!” The chief watched in horror, “–Do you understand what you’re doing!? Without me leading, the Outriders will run rampant! I’m the one keeping them restrained! Don’t you see?! They’ll be wild beasts without my leadership! You’re only hurting yourself by attacking me!”
He gripped his gifted sword in both hands tightly, now focusing his reinforcement solely on his arms; in that desperate few seconds, he couldn’t restrain himself or steady the flow smoothly enough–this caused his biceps, triceps, and shoulders to cramp immensely, but he focused everything he had nonetheless.
“I’ll–!”
Before the colossal chief could say anything, he was stifled as the human boy, nothing more than an insect in comparison to his size, invoked such an imposing presence he might as well be towering over the elder.
As his boots landed on the forehead of the silver-furred bear demi-human, he yelled out with everything he had before plunging his blade down.
STAB.
Straight into the beast man’s skull, the steel dived deep, ending the life of the long-lived, savage mage.
With that final strike, the forest of man-eating plants that swarmed the vast chamber dropped and withered away, and as he relaxed his shoulders at least, exhaling–the stone dragon crumbled into dust.
“…Ah…”
It might not make much sense, he thought, I’m still having trouble understanding it myself: why does something like this fill me with such life? It’s because detours like this…it’s what being an adventurer is all about. I’ve got a strong body now; I can walk beneath the orange rays of the sun, basking in it without my skin peeling off. I can swing a sword without my arms breaking. There’s so much I can do now, thanks to this grand rebirth. Do you think I’m not going to use it?
[Level Up!]
[Level Ten Achieved.]
[“Draconic Constitution” Acquired.]
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