Chapter 12: Dragon Slayer

My and Renault's new destination from Ars was a region right at the part of the Red Dragon Mountains that split Asura from the southern end of the Central Continent. We wouldn't exactly be taking the path through the mountains into said region, but it sure would be close enough going by the spot on the map Renault had pointed out, right smack on the corner down in the Wishiru region.

Specifically, a small town called Ashfield, a place right at the foot of the mountains. It was one of the places that served as more of a terminal for the travelers taking the highway through the mountains during the warmer seasons. It also happened to be home to an old friend of Renault's, a blacksmith who, according to him, was the sort of fellow with a special interest in unusual weapons.

So, in short, the entire reason we were spending a couple of months heading down south was because Renault was hunting for some kind of unusual sword, and this friend of his had finally gotten word to him of it. Seems while I'd been trotting up and down Asura for two years, Renault had been doing much the same and using Ars as a sort of home base thanks to his connections with men like Clive.

And during that traveling, it was what you could expect from us by this time. By day, we'd ride on horseback along the major roads from sunrise to sunset. Once it was time to rest, be it at a camp or in some helpful village along the road, it was training until we were too tired and had to sleep.

And since Renault was intent on teaching me the Longsword of Light, it was hardly anything resembling easy training. When we weren't sparring, I was swinging my sword until I fell asleep. All in an effort to find the key to it, the idea that would take my sword past the Longsword of Silence. Weeks into this routine, and I'd started wrapping my hands because the skin on my palms had began tearing open despite how calloused they were at this point.

Were I back in my original world I'd question the logic of making a twelve-year-old train this way, but then again, I was also far from the typical kid my age. And in this world, anything less would mean I'd never actually learn the technique at all.

Simply put, this was the break point in deciding the real extent of my talent with the Sword God style. If I couldn't master the Longsword of Light, I'd only ever be recognized as Advanced rank no matter how much stronger I became over time.

"Is this really all about just finding some trick to it?" And one night, while we were by the fire as I was rewrapping my hands for probably the fifth time in the last few days of travel, I couldn't help but ask.

"It's really all I can explain," Renault stoked the fire, pulling his stick out and eyeing the burnt end of it. "The Longsword of Light is the sole ultimate move of the Sword God Style. Fast enough that even a Water God master couldn't counter it. Put simply… it's what the Sword God would call a pinnacle of logic."

"What does that mean?"

"It's how the man describes himself. The Sword God, Gal Farion, tells us he's the end point of 'logic', the strongest thing you can conceive of achieving through normal methods. Talent honed through a lifetime of dedication and nothing more. And to that, the Longsword of Light is itself logic. It's just an exceptionally fast swing of the sword, there's nothing truly special about it besides that. And that's why the only way to really teach it to someone is to just make them swing their sword until they find that something. That end point of logic and reasoning that makes their sword surpass sound and reach light."

Renault cast the stick into the flames and stood, drawing his own sword and taking it into both hands. Falling into that stance I'd become so familiar with since we began this training regime, he swung. And I could just barely make out the movement, still so fast it looked like his sword had instantly moved from one point to another. Only the sudden burst in the air, cutting a gouge into the dirt before us, gave any indication of the sheer force behind that swing.

But I was getting better at seeing it. It was slower than I'd like, but I was starting to see that "logic" Renault had been talking about.

"Hell, mine isn't even the fastest there is," Renault sheathed his sword as he turned to me, sitting back down with a smirk. "Ghyslaine's is faster than mine, and the Sword God's is even faster still. But, reaching light itself is the furthest logic and reason alone can take you. The furthest being human alone can go."

"So, then there's the illogical things… the inhuman things," my answer received a nod from the Sword Saint. "I've barely even seen any of them. I know some about the Beast Races, hell I speak Beast God… but then there's the Demon tribes, the elves, the dwarves, and who knows what else is out there? I've only read books about most of the other races, so who knows what they're capable of?"

"I'm sure you'll get the chance to meet plenty of those sorts as you get older. But, word of advice, if you somehow find yourself traveling with non-humans, a Demon especially, be wary around Millis. They're the harshest towards non-humans out of all our kingdoms, especially towards the demonfolk."

"Can't imagine why…" Gee, a nation that made me think very much of Christianity back in my old world couldn't possibly make me wonder why they hated demons so much.

Okay, to be fair that had more to do with a few historical wars in this world, but still. Give me that snark at least.

"So then… who would you say is the strongest of these 'illogical' people?" Posing that, Renault let out a hum, scratching his chin as he thought it over.

"I'd name two candidates for that one: The Dragon God and the Fighting God, two of strongest of the Great Powers. For the record, the Sword God is considered the sixth of the seven, though when it comes to the bottom three it's a bit unclear where exactly they all place. But the top four? That ranking is solid. Nobody's quite sure where the Dragon God and Fighting God are though, so pray you get lucky and never have to meet either of them during your travels."

"Foreboding…"

The Seven Great Powers. It wasn't a name you heard most people use. Really only from adventurers and types like Renault, someone who knew one of those Seven.

I'd read about them before, at least. Ars' libraries were useful like that.

A ranking system devised after the Second Human-Demon War some thousands of years ago, devised by someone only called the Technique God to select the seven strongest people in the world. And it was after the disastrous Laplace War some 400 years ago that the name fell out of use when multiple members of the rankings either died or went missing, so the stories went.

Heck nobody was actually sure if the Technique God existed at all anymore. So, by all extents this Dragon God, if they were still around, was the strongest person in the world.

And it was startling to think about it as well. If a man like the Sword God was the end point of 'logic', of the potential of a human and was only ranked sixth out of three places that blurred together, then how absurd were the four remaining Powers? It sounded like the kind of thing you'd hear a legend about, of a single person strong enough to shift the tide of something like a war in favor of whatever side is lucky enough to have them on their side.

And being some relatively normal human kid made it feel like I was just staring at another impossibly wide gulf. One I perhaps never had a chance of seeing even a glimpse of the other side.

I didn't even know how to scale that in my head at this point. My experience was still limited to someone as strong as Renault, and that gap was closing inch by inch.

If I ever ran into people that strong, would I even come out of it alive?

Not exactly the best thing to be thinking about when trying to go to sleep, I'll admit.

"So… what kind of weapon are we even looking for we'd have to come all the way down south?"

"Ah, right, didn't fully explain that…"

"Renault, it's been two months."

The Red Dragon Mountains were as close as could be, and as Renault and I closed in on the border town, a question I really should've asked after getting the basic explanation after we'd left Ars finally found its way out of me.

Renault scratched at his chin, his other hand loosely flicking his horse's reigns as we trotted along.

"Alright, you ever read about the 49 Cursed Swords?" I shook my head, Renault letting out a surprised hum. "Really? Figured you'd have found something about them back in Ars. You seriously never found even a ledger?"

"Can't say I have. So, what, are Cursed Swords some kind of magic item?"

"Sort of… though not in the normal way."

Brief aside, as you could expect, magic items were a thing in this world after all. While they were somewhat uncommon, tools or even clothing could be infused with enchantments to grant them various effects and uses that even non-mages could make use of. This could be anything from weapons with special effects like being able to break through armor more easily, or clothing that enhanced your physical abilities.

And as you might expect, the things were expensive as all get out. You'd be lucky as an adventurer to have even one magic item in your possession.

"Alright, so, a long time ago, there was this demon smith named Yulian Jalisco. The story goes that he created 49 swords, all forged from the bones of a dragon named Kajakut," Leaning forward in my saddle, I kept quiet as Renault went off on the topic. "Swords forged from material like that are special, even by enchanted weapon standards. Some of them are as simple as any other enchantment, to something as extreme as the legendary King Dragon Sword, said to have inherited Kajakut's power over gravity."

"Seriously?! Someone with that thing would have a crazy good power on their side! Is gravity magic even a thing?"

"How would I know? You're the Mage Knight, you tell me."

"Eh… touché," Renault laughed as my head slumped down.

"The Sword God likes to collect these swords. He's got about seven of them," Renault held one hand open and lifted two fingers on the other. "One of those swords is his personal blade, the others he hands out to newly titled Sword Kings. Currently… I'd say there's only three other blades in the possession of other members of the school. Ghyslaine has one, and two for the current Sword Emperors. Hmm… if I had to guess he's holding onto two of them for those youngsters once they're old enough…"

"So, you've been looking for one of those Cursed Swords for yourself? Or to give to the Sword God?" Surprisingly, Renault shook a hand back and forth.

"Either or. There's 49 of the things, so you can imagine there're varied in what they do or don't do. Some of them are just good swords that benefit from being made of dragon bone. If I find one that suits my style, I'll keep it for myself rather than waiting around to get one from the Sword God. If not? I'll give it to him so he can bump his collection a bit. It's really a case of whatever happens first. Or…"

Renault looked me over for a moment, giving an amused chuckle before he lashed his reigns and pulled ahead.

"Oi! Don't just give me a funny look then pull off!" I lashed my own horse to catch up, Renault snickering as I caught his pace. "You were having some ideas just then, weren't you?!"

"Not telling. Maybe if you can use the Longsword of Light tonight, then I'll tell you!"

"Oh, you know that's not gonna work!"

"Hahaha!"

Ashfield, as to be expected of a border town meant to be a merchant's stopping point, was as lively a town as you could expect it to be. Built just at the base of one of the many paths leading up into the Red Dragon Mountains, it was a rugged place built of cold stone and thatched rooftops, huddled together and forming tight streets at the core of the town before thinning out at the areas built on the slopes.

Merchant carriages galore lined the main road from the highway that split the town into two distinct parts, and groups of adventurers were also bundled in among the lot. Most of them were probably working as caravan guards, others looked to be moving through the mountains and out of or to Asura.

But the main road wasn't any of Renault's worry as he led me into the town proper. Through winding roads and out of the thicker end of town, until we ended up at a place that could only be a smithy. They may have looked different based on where you found it, but the sounds of metalwork and the billowing smoke would always be a dead giveaway to the work going on within.

And Renault didn't even hesitate to barge in through the main door once he found the place.

"Oi, Menard! You busy working or what?" I gave Renault a look as he sauntered to the counter of the smithy, deciding to kick the door shut since he clearly wasn't going to do so.

"Well, I see the years abroad have hardly changed that attitude of yours," an older man strode out from a door behind the counter, scarred arms covered in the soot from his work, and aged, craggy face set in a casual yet sour expression as Renault leaned on the counter. "Though it's about time you showed up. Heh, figured you'd come running soon as you got my letter."

"Hey, even if it's a rumor, not passing up the chance to find one of those blades," Renault them pointed a thumb at me, "The kid's my student by the way, name's Aegir."

"He dragged me along because it'd be too bothersome to keep teaching me on and off," I gave a cheeky smirk, Renault looking back at me with a bit of a glare.

"Renault, that kid can't even be thirteen. What're ya doin' dragging him down here to the Red Dragon Mountains?" Renault stamped a hand on my head while Menard gave him a look.

"Kid's got a sharp tongue, but trust me, he agreed to this! Besides, Aegir can handle himself. Let's not waste time and give me the details. Anything change since you sent that letter?"

"Let me run it down again so the kid knows," Menard leaned on the counter, rolling his shoulders a bit. "So, kid, you familiar with any old ruins from back during the human-demon wars?"

"I've explored a couple of them the last few years," I leaned up on the counter myself, though had to almost get on my toes to do it. "Most of them got turned into monster nests or got picked clean decades ago. Not much to find in them nowadays."

"Sometimes you get lucky and come across some leftovers," said Menard. "Relics from the old kingdoms, left-behind materials we can make use of… and on rare occasions, intact weapons the likes of which we can't even make nowadays. And supposedly, some of the surveyors who were checking some nearby ruins said they found something that looks like it could be one."

"And something's telling me there's been a problem in anybody retrieving it," Renault received a nod. "Lemme guess, red dragons?"

I perked up at that, while Menard gave a much more somber nod.

"Juvenile, going by the one poor sap who made it back. Probably broke off from one of the herds, looking to make its own nest before mating season," the smith wrung his hands on his apron, giving a heavy sigh.

These mountains didn't get their name just because it sounded fancy. The red drake I'd killed a couple months ago was just a lesser version of the reason the range was named that way. Red Dragons, one of the strongest breeds in the world and considered to be the strongest monsters on the Central Continent. They were the reason the mountains were near impassable from most of the natural routes that could be used, with only a scant few protected roads allowing passage through certain parts of the range.

The only reason the things weren't running roughshod over the continent despite their fearsome reputation—just one was considered an S Class threat—was because, ironically enough, they were terrible fliers. According to the monster guide I'd learned to keep handy, they were too heavy to take flight on their own, and had to use the tall cliffs of the mountains as a launch pad of sorts.

Lucky for us then, most of the Central Continent was open plains and flatlands, so they rarely left the mountains.

"Hmm… well, a juvenile shouldn't be as much of a problem as an adult would be," Menard sighed when Renault hardly seemed phased by the notion of fighting one of them, juvenile or not. "All I'm here for is to see if the rumor is legit. Hell, if I can avoid the thing I will. Just tell me where the ruin is, and I'll be on my way."

"Wish I knew there was a way to talk you down from it. Fine… but let me look at your sword… actually, yours and the kids," Menard gestured with his chin towards me. Glancing at Renault, the man nodded. Both of us drew our blades and placed them on the counter.

Menard pulled a monocle from his apron, placing it on his he scanned over Renault's sword, and then my own. He lingered on mine more, and that look alone told me he could tell I wasn't the blade's original owner.

"Kid… Aegir, right? You got this sword from someone else, yeah? Doesn't look like it was made with your build in mind," Menard removed the monocle, and I nodded as I retrieved the sword.

"It used to belong to former party leader. It's… something of a memento. I've been using the last couple of months to get used to wielding it."

"Hm, I see… not a problem then. Both should hold up fine," Menard leaned on the counter again, Renault grabbing his sword back. "Alright. You're looking for ruins just of town, about a half days travel up the trail. Normally the dragons don't go there since we're usually keeping watch, but that juvenile had different ideas. If, by some chance, you do kill it, just bring back a scale and the guild branch here should pay you well for it."

"How big is the bounty on its head?" Renault's eyes glinted at the idea, Menard snickering.

"For a juvenile… I'd say it's a good twenty-five gold coins," Renault snickered in excitement, and my brow raised. That kind of bounty was enough to last ages out on the road. "Just don't be reckless… if for the kid's sake more than your own."

"We'll be fine. Just watch, by tomorrow we'll be walking back in here with a Cursed Sword in hand!"

"If there even is one!"

Renault laughed as he left the shop, and I was quick to follow him out, giving the smith a quick bow before ducking out after Renault.

"So kid, ready to go hunt a dragon?" Renault ruffled my hair was he stopped outside, and I gave him a confident look while brushing his hand back.

"I've already got a drake kill under my belt. A juvenile will be worth going after."

"Good stuff. Now c'mon, let's get prepped up at the guild. Better safe than sorry."

With how narrow many of the mountain pathways were, taking a mount was out of the question, so Renault and I left our horses in the care of the Guild back in Ashfield. And the trek to find the ruins was at a slow, steady pace. Following that narrow, covered mountainside path to avoid the sight of the red dragons passing overhead every few minutes, while biting cold winds blew in and nipped at us the whole while.

When the sun started to get low, Renault and I took shelter and waited it out, in our now usual routine of taking short rests while one kept watch until sunrise. And luckily since it was still the warm season, we wouldn't have to worry about anything like a sudden blizzard making it worse.

Renault wanted to be quick about this one, so as soon as he'd seen the sunlight break the horizon even a bit, we'd gotten moving again.

And by around noon, we'd reached our destination.

The ruins of an old fortress from the war, the centuries of exposure to the harsh mountain winds having rent the walls down and left them coated in flecks of permafrost, while the central building had long started to fall in on itself. From the vantage point Renault and I were watching it from, the remains of an ramshackle watch tower likely used by the townsfolk was clear, and still smoldering scorch marks littered the walls and buildings of the fort.

"Looks like the new occupant's been rowdy," I ducked back down as Renault was looking over some of his supplies. "So, what's the plan?"

"First step is seeing whether or not the thing is there. If the dragon's out, then we can sneak in, find whatever the surveyors spotted, and book it. If not…" Renault chuckled as he closed the supply sack with a flick of his hand. "Leave most of the fighting to me. This is my job, so don't do anything too reckless. Even a juvenile might be too much for you right now."

"Noted…" a part of me wanted to protest, but I knew Renault was right. I'd never faced a dragon before, and by all means was barely above the experience of my B Rank. Best for me to observe this one, and if anything play backup with my magic instead of a frontliner. "I can at least support you with spells, that much should be fine."

"Sounds perfect. Use wind or earth magic, fire won't be too good against its scales."

"Got it."

"Bets are we need to find the armory, so let's hope our scaly friend happens to be out."

Renault took the lead as we moved towards the fort. Slowly, cautiously. We couldn't know until we were inside if the dragon was out hunting or was just asleep. And each step towards the building was filled with that anticipation.

Moving through the broken doors of the main hall, Renault crept up to the inner wall, gesturing me to follow suit as he crept along it, sword drawn as he carefully watched his steps.

Once we were near what had to be the main room, we came to a stop, Renault the first to lean out, and I crept out under him to get a view too.

The main room of the building was widened out by the ages of decay, the few remaining walls that once separated rooms long crumbled into vague outlines of themselves. At one point this had likely been a cozy food hall and meeting room for the soldiers that were once garrisoned here, and the rotted remains of old tables and chairs were scattered among the piles of snowdrift.

And, unfortunately for us, a red dragon currently sleeping right in the center of a cobbled together nest made of tree trunks and stone. Having gotten a chance to see what the adults looked like during our trek, it was about half the size of a full-grown specimen, and way more limber to boot. But even then, underestimating the thing just because of that would be a bad case all around.

"Well, at least it's sleeping," Renault kept his voice to a hushed whisper as he scanned the room. "Gonna have to move quietly… we probably want to find the armory, whatever's left of it."

"Where would that even be in a building like this?"

"Going by the what's left of this place…" Renault scanned around, his eyes then falling to the remains of a passage to our left. "Probably that way. Alright… let's try and sneak past it to get through. If the thing wakes up, I'll distract it, and you run through to start looking."

"How will I even know if it's the sword?" Renault shot me an amused look, bumping my shoulder.

"It'll be the only one in good condition. Yulian's blades don't rust or lose their edge, so you'll be able to tell right away. Let's go."

Blades drawn, we moved out slowly and carefully. Even the slightest noise would be enough to wake the dragon up, and Renault was careful to remain ahead of me so I could follow his steps exactly as we worked our way across the room, keeping a wide berth between use and the sleeping dragon. Any shift, and we'd freeze, making sure it wasn't stirring awake before moving again.

It took minutes of careul moving, but slow and careful was better than rushed and careless. Once Renault and I had cleared the room, we were just as careful when creeping down the hall. Luckily, even the ancient doors were long rotted out, making it easy to creep by and check as we moved further into the building. Most of the rooms were either old barracks rooms or officer's quarters for a while, but right at the end of the hallway were the remains of a much larger door, rotted by mostly intact despite its age.

It was just ajar enough for someone to fit through, and going by some of the scorch marks, was probably also where the unfortunate surveyors had needed to hide from the dragon at.

"Gotta love giant slabs of anything," Renault chuckled as he moved through the gap, and what greeted us was exactly what we'd hoped.

The remains of a once well stocked armory, walls breaking and falling yet stubbornly holding their shape despite the holes. Collapsed wracks that once held weapons and armor laid scattered across the floor and walls, ancient, rusted weapons and armor littering the floor.

"So, what are we even looking for with this blade aside from being in good shape?" I carefully tip toed around the scrap, Renault humming as he scanned around.

"Probably a case or something still in a scabbard… at the least it'd be something worth keeping stored. Cursed Blades like that are worth more than you know. Hmm… Aegir, think you can melt the snow with some heat?"

"Easy," I raised my hands, looking around the room and the snow that had piled into corners, rusted articles poking out from the piles and even more still hiding what else could be in here. And with a wave of my hands, a wave of heat washed over the room, enough to instantly raise the temperature and cause the snow to start smelting away.

Piles fell and slid away, rusted arms and armor sliding to the floor as more of the lost items were revealed to the air after who knew how long.

"Aegir, hold it!" Renault raised his hand, and I cut the spell immediately. The swordsman chuckled as he stepped over to a rather intact storage rack, one that had the remains of a wooden case propped against it. And inside it, a longsword.

It was entirely unlike any style I'd seen anyone use. A two-handed hilt in pure black in its wrappings and core, topped by a grooved pommel with a slight spike. Rather than any kind of normal guard, an ornate black decoration formed a small guard of swords while also encasing the blade and decorating the base of the flat in an emblem that had long since lost its origins. The blade itself was a brilliant, bright shade of steel, the edge bearing some flares nearer the base, and worked into what would have otherwise been a normal fuller was a brilliant, glimmering red gem along the whole spine of the weapon.

And I could feel the magical energy it held.

"Whoa…" Renault nodded as I could only express awe at the blade.

"Yeap, one of Yulian's alright," Renault pulled the sword from its case, flipping it around and running his fingers over the flat. "There's the inscription… hmm, it's in Demon God though, and I can't read that."

"Let me see," Leaning in, Renault directed the sword at me. On the flat was an inscription in a script I hardly recognized, a runic style from what I could tell. "… I think I'll need to add this to list of language I plan to learn… this and Fighting God."

"Should be easier for you, you're young," Renault flipped the sword in his grip, looking around. "No sign of a scabbard. Hmm… well, not a problem."

Renault sheathed his own sword, taking the Cursed Sword into his main hand. The swordsman gave it a few test swings, the edge slightly humming as it cut through the air.

"Huh… that wasn't my touki this thing was covered in, interesting. Aegir, what do you think?"

"Well, it's certainly got its own magic signature… it's kind of like a staff or wand. Guess the gem worked into the spine is more than a decoration."

"Definitely… we'll figure it out. C'mon, let's see if we can't sneak out too, save ourselves the trouble of a fight."

I nodded, Renault again leading as we moved back out into the hallway. Again it was slow and careful, eyes on the still sleeping red dragon. Closer and closer… right until a creaking, not form us, but from above drew our attention right as we got the main hall.

A bird, one damned bird, perching atop some of the old wooden skeleton of the fort. And that alone was enough to cause the ancient beam to strain, quickly cracking and bending before splintering right off and crashing to the ground.

Renault and I both let out groans as the red dragon instantly stirred awake, slowly rising up before sweeping the room, eyes stopping at us as a growl ebbed out of its maw.

And the second I saw flames licking at it's jaw, I slammed a hand to the ground, a stone wall shooting up between us and the dragon just as a jet of flame spewed from it. Renault laughed as he went back to the wall, the flames arcing around the stone and slowly heating it up.

"Guess we're breaking the thing in after all! Ready kid?" Renault gripped the cursed blade tight, and I nodded. "Good! Soon as it's fire breath breaks, we start!"

"Roger that!"

Once the flames ceased, Renault shot out to the left, and I took the right.

To distract the dragon, I let off a burst of wind from around my sword, creating a cutting gale in the air that slammed the unsuspecting beast. The creature roared as its scales were cut, but hardly enough to really wound it. And as soon as its eyes turned to me, Renault shot in, blade flashing through the air as he aimed at the dragon's wing, slicing clean into the membrane as he dashed past it, following it up by cutting into its side.

The dragon shrieked as blood spewed from its side, Renault sliding under its tail and getting another slash in. And before I knew it, despite my desire to help, Renault was running circles around the young dragon, dancing around it's attempts to claw at and slam him, raining slashes on it and cutting deeper and deeper into it.

And here I thought I'd actually get to help.

And yet, watching someone of Renault's skill at work was nothing short of a marvel. It was one thing to spar and be on the receiving end of that kind of assault, and another to watch it. Were that dragon matured I'm sure the fight would be far different, but against a juvenile Renault seemed downright untouchable.

At the same time, it was clear he was testing the cursed sword. Trying to pry out whatever ability it could have, any traits other than its sharpness and quality. That magic power I felt had to be a hint, it didn't feel like it could just be some trait of what it was forged out of.

The dragon reared its head back, flames ready to spew from its maw again. Renault moved to the side, but before the thing could let loose, I sent a wave of earthen pillars towards it. The last one slammed into the things jaw, clamping it shut just as the flames burst, causing the flames to burst form between its fangs in the moment… and pulling the dragon's attention to me.

"Aegir, careful!" Renault dodged as the dragon's tail lashed towards him when the beast rushed towards me.

The dragon's unwounded arm rose to slash at me. It was fast, startlingly so.

I need to be faster than it. Faster, precise, sharper. Don't match its swing, be quicker than it is. Not just quicker than sound, even faster!

My sword swung, and a sound didn't follow it. But I felt something in it. The slightest flash, the smallest hint of something beyond the Longsword of Silence. I passed the dragon's claws, blade piercing flash and tearing along the underside of the arm as I shot under it.

I came to a stop by Renault, eyeing my sword. I felt that. It was faint, but even for a split second I'd nearly reached that point. But just what the hell was it?

"Heh, not bad… guess you had a sudden breakthrough," Renault tapped me on the shoulder, spinning his sword. "Let me finish this off. Maybe you'll learn something new."

Renault approached the wounded dragon with a smirk on. The wounds were definitely becoming too much. The beast let out one last roar as it raised its good arm. Renault took his sword into both hands and swung.

And this time I saw it. Just barely, but I could see the swing. Still beyond fast, still more of a blur. But the sword didn't lose its form, didn't vanish into a flash of white.

And the dragon's arm wasn't just severed, its head was also cut right down the middle.

With a gurgle, the beast collapsed onto the floor, blood spewing from its wounds and washing across the cold stone. Renault grabbed hold of one of its horns, a quick pull yanking it from the skull. He also gave the cursed sword a couple more swings, and his expression took on a somewhat sour look.

"Not quite it…" With a shrug, Renault pocketed the horn and turned back to me. "So, how was it this time?"

"I saw it… barely, but I saw your sword this time!" Renault chuckled as he approached, setting the sword across his shoulder.

"Good. Means you've taken the first step towards figuring it out. Guess all you needed was a moment when your life was in danger. Your instincts took care of the rest."

"… not sure if that's a good thing."

Renault laughed as I couldn't help but take that one rather poorly. Considering last time I'd lost myself to my instincts I'd gone and destroyed a sword.

"Well, now we just gotta see if you can't figure out how to do that all on your own," Renault tapped my forehead with two fingers, and I let out a mutter. "Next stop is Roa, right? Let's see how far you get on the trip back up there."

"Yeah."

Watching Renault as I started out, a few things were in the back of my head. The sensation of that slash, how it felt in that split second my sword surpassed sound. It stuck there, the feeling of it, the moment it happened.

But also, what Renault could have meant with that "not quite it"… with what he'd said about what he'd do if he felt the Cursed Sword didn't fit him, I was left wondering. Did he just not figure out what else it could do, if anything? Or had that been enough for him to decide to hand it off to the Sword God?

"Hagh… this is gonna bug me the whole way, isn't it?"