I chase after the dragon carrying the two on its back, running after it.

“Ilga! Attacking it head-on won’t pierce its dragon scales! If you want to penetrate, aim for the gaps between the scales! That’s where its armor joins together!”

“...Got it!”

That said, it's a moving target. Even that isn’t an easy task.

Moreover—

I check the blade of my wakizashi, running my finger along it.

It hasn’t chipped from my thrust. The tip is still intact. But—damn.

I click my tongue.

“What a hassle...”

There's no trace of blood on it.

The length of my blade that managed to cut into it is about the same as the distance from my wrist to the tip of my middle finger. If I inserted it that deep and there’s still no blood, that means its scales are as thick as the iron doors installed in dungeons by the instructors.

“So, its wings have regressed.”

It can’t fly. Its own weight is its weakness.

But if my memory is correct, the thickness of its scales is about the same as the ancient dragon I fought before. I thought I could reach it due to the difference in size, but it seems I underestimated it. No matter how I try, my wakizashi won’t be able to take it down.

Looks like I have no choice but to rely on Oujin’s Rock Cleaver.

The dragon, having lost sight of Oujin and Ilga once again, now turns its single eye toward me. In an instant, it scrapes the ground with its lower jaw, its fangs rushing toward me.

I don’t retreat. Instead, I advance toward its left leg, deliberately moving forward. Evading its maw, I roll into the blind spot beneath it.

“Oujin! I’ll hold it off for a while! You cut it down!”

Its left leg rises, aiming to crush me. The light from the glowing crystal embedded in the dungeon floor casts a massive shadow onto the ceiling.

It seems its hearing is still intact. It pinpointed my location through sound. That’s all I need to know.

Turning my body, I dodge its stomp. A deep thud echoes as the impact shakes the dungeon.

I shout without hesitation.

“When a dragon breathes fire, it always stops all movement except for its wings and neck! If you want to land a hit with Rock Cleaver—”

A powerful sweep of its arm comes next. I barely dodge it by leaping backward, but the sheer wind pressure sends me tumbling onto my back.

“Eremia!”

“Don’t come! Forget about me and just listen!”

I had accounted for this. I didn’t fall—I rolled on purpose.

Propping my knee up, I push myself further backward. The dragon’s palm slams down, causing the ground to cave in. The charred remains of an ogre scattered into pieces. I click my tongue and shield my eyes.

The wind carries ashes and cinders, stinging my arms.

“The only time it stops moving is when it's breathing fire! And the breath attack—”

Perhaps annoyed by the pesky little insect buzzing around its snout, the dragon grabs a stone pillar with its massive arm, tearing it down and hurling the rubble toward me.

But compared to the arrows that would suddenly rain down on the battlefield back then—

I don’t flinch. I advance, weaving through the falling debris, slipping once more into the blind spot beneath its left leg.

Rock Cleaver. But again, it doesn’t reach flesh. The dragon’s scales block it.

“No dragon can unleash breath attacks in rapid succession! Listen up, I’ll create an opening no matter what! Watch carefully! Don’t miss your chance!”

Its leg rises again.

“Ere—”

“Focus!”

I immediately pull back as another earth-shattering stomp follows. The moment it lands, I close the distance in a flash, targeting the blind spot at its left leg once more, swinging Rock Cleaver.

Again and again. The blade sinks in, but too shallow. If this were a human, it would be no more than a skin wound—neither painful nor threatening.

The wakizashi simply isn’t long enough. If only I could target its unarmored arm, but my height is completely insufficient.

This is something that can only be solved by waiting for my body to grow.

—GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

“Damn, this is frustrating.”

I dodge the talons scraping the ground, backstepping. Just as I move to latch onto its left leg again, I meet its single eye as it twists its long neck to glare down at me.

—...!

“Tch—”

So, it’s learning...! Damn it, being defective means its breath recharge is slow…!

It swipes alternately with its claws from left and right. I keep retreating, dodging. A sudden impact rattles my temple with a sharp sound.

My vision wavers.

“—Tch.”

Even the small debris its claws fling at me is a serious threat to this body. Shaking my head, I snap my eyes open—only to realize I’ve lost sight of the dragon entirely.

No problem. In situations like this, it’s either behind or above me. A lesson learned from my time as Blythe.

Above…!

Just then, Ilga tackles me from the side, sending us rolling across the filthy ground. The dragon crashes down right where I had stood, shaking the earth.

Rising to my knees, I glare at Ilga.

“Ilga, you—!”

Unfazed, he raises his longsword with one hand, assuming a stance.

A classic knight’s swordsmanship stance.

“Hmph, no need for thanks. I’m just repaying a favor.”

“You damn fool! What nonsense are you spouting?! Don’t get in my way!”

“Ugh... come on...”

What’s with that face? Ridiculous.

Help is nothing but an unnecessary nuisance. I could’ve dodged that myself. Seriously.

The dragon lunges at us, jaws wide open, aiming to devour us along with the ground.

We scatter in opposite directions, sprinting.

“If you’re feeling motivated, aim for its arm! If it’s not covered in scales, your blade might get through!”

“Got i—aaah!?”

He tripped. What a hassle… but, this is perfect. I’ll make use of him.

The moment the dragon shifts its gaze to Ilga, I step onto its tail and sprint up its back. With Eremia’s light frame, it won’t even notice me on top of its thick, dull scales—like a child stroking a knight’s armor.

The dragon raises its massive arm—of course, to strike down Ilga.

—Be grateful, Ilga. At least you were useful as bait.

Target: the arm. I may not be able to sever it, but I can at least render it useless—!

“Ooooooohh!!”

Kicking off from the base of its wings, I launch myself into the air, wakizashi raised high. Just as Ilga frantically rolls away, the dragon swings its claws down at him.

—Rock Cleaver!

From midair, I silently bring my blade down. The edge meets the black-furred arm, slicing into it with a slow, deliberate pull.

A deep, sinking sensation transmits through both my arms as the blade bites into flesh.