ICE DRAGON NIA
Oh, dear me.
As I dodge the blade that swoops toward me, I sense I’ve made a mistake.
A blunder.
And not just one—I have made several mistakes.
The first was allowing this whelp to live.
It was a mistake to obey my lord’s orders and refrain from attacking it directly.
I thought that perhaps if I started a blizzard, the creature would die on its own, but the thing has stubbornly clung to life.
If I had known this would happen, I would have confirmed it breathed its last with my own eyes, even if it meant disobeying my lord’s orders.
The second mistake was instructing my brethren to hinder the whelp’s progress.
Many of them lost their lives as a result, which also led to the significant increase in the whelp’s level.
If I had put it down in the beginning, surely things would not have turned out this way.
…The fact that I didn’t do it because I had a hangover is a shameful truth indeed.
It’s all because that blasted alcohol Ariel gave me was so delicious!
I put on a brave face for my lord, but even now, my stomach churns, both from stress and indigestion.
The third mistake was agreeing to fight this whelp now in order to smooth over the first two mistakes.
Alas, I have no fondness for battle.
Though I did not wish to let on as much in front of my lord, the truth is that I would prefer not to fight.
Why should I have to face such a fate?
I miss the days when I could simply loll about at the peak of the Mystic Mountains.
Yes, I am partially responsible for sowing these seeds, but half the blame also lies with the little brat for committing such heinous acts.
Even after I gave it a good scolding, it insisted upon rampaging about like a child throwing a tantrum.
And the fourth mistake is the action I took just now.
I dodged the brat’s attack, but it was a feint.
The real attack from its other sword lands squarely on my body.
A keening noise echoes as the brat’s blade clashes with my scales.
“That hurts, you fool!”
In truth, I do not feel pain because of my Suffering Nullification skill, but the spirit of the thing remains the same.
I whip around my tail to knock away the brat.
But much to my irritation, it easily dodges my attack.
Ah, enough already!
I do so hate fighting.
Damn this brat.
Precious little time has passed since our previous bout, yet it has grown almost unrecognizably in power.
Before, it couldn’t even leave a scratch on my scales, try as it might.
But now? The place where its sword hit me is bleeding, the scale shattered.
It broke through the defenses of my Divine Scales.
My defense is second only to that of the earth dragon Gakia.
No, since Gakia has died, I suppose now I am first.
And yet, the whelp has injured me.
When was the last time I sustained a single wound?
I cannot even remember.
Even if I spend much of my time lazing about, I am still far more powerful than most, you know.
Just hearing my name would be enough to bring most warriors to their knees!
Not that I ever really run into anyone who would try to harm me, since I never leave the Mystic Mountains.
At any rate, what I wish to say is: No thank you.
I’ve been wounded!
If I get wounded enough, I’ll die!
This is the first time I’ve seen my own blood in hundreds of years!
No, I don’t like this one bit.
I may have acted cool in front of my lord, but the truth is I do not want to die.
Of course, if it truly comes down to it, I am willing to sacrifice my life for him.
But this?
This foolish squabble is not how I wish to die.
I do feel a degree of sympathy for the whelp’s plight, but it has already exacted its revenge, so this violence is nothing more than taking out its anger on others.
Perhaps it has lost its senses due to Wrath, but that is no excuse.
At least, not to me.
No excuse would be sufficient for injuring me like this.
Oh dear. It’s starting to go to my head, too.
My apologies to my lord, but I do not wish to hear complaints if I kill this whelp in the heat of the moment.
“Listen, cur. Don’t blame me if you die, all right? If you must blame anything, blame your own ill fate.”
A freezing cold wind whips up around me.
It is the pinnacle of Ice Magic, freezing anyone instantly at the lightest touch.
The houses around us freeze, then break and scatter on the increasingly violent winds.
Ice and wind.
And let us add a jinx, as well.
Even if the whelp withstands the ice, the jinx will eat away at it while its body loses its warmth, whittling down its health.
And my Indolence skill will expedite that even further.
Indolence, a skill that is linked to the Seven Deadly Sins skill Sloth, increases the rate of reduction of the target’s HP, MP, and SP.
You see, brat, I may not look it, but the truth is that I am known to play dirtiest of all the dragons.
I use my powerful defense to endure lengthy battles, all while slowly wearing down my opponent with a field of cursed ice.
Since I have been warned not to kill the brat, I will refrain from finishing it off with a single blow.
But there is no need.
I shall simply keep fighting until the brat reaches its limits.
Just then, the brat’s power receives an enormous boost.
Huh?
What’s this?
Excuse me?!
Wait a minute!
Where did this power come from?!
I wasn’t told about this!
“Grrraaaaaagh!”
The whelp howls and charges toward me.
So fast!
I can’t dodge in time!
In my panic, I try to take to the skies, but too late—the whelp’s sword cuts into my torso.
I feel the sword break through not just the scales but the hide and even the flesh beneath.
This is not good!
“Grrrr!”
Unleashing a roar of my own, I let loose with my Breath at full power.
In the blink of an eye, the village that was on the border freezes over, shatters, and is destroyed without a trace.
But the brat isn’t there—no, I see in the corner of my eye that it’s trying to get behind me.
I am not slow-footed by any means, but this creature is far faster than I.
How can it move like this in my cursed ice territory?!
What in the world is going on here?!
Oh dear!
All I know is that things are not looking good.
The wound it just inflicted is by no means shallow.
I must put some distance between us so that I can recover.
Spreading my wings, I decide to escape into the sky for now.
But just as I attempt to take off again, a sword slashes into one of my wings, interrupting my actions.
Grrr! It’s made a huge cut through my wing!
Unlike the rest of my body, the scales on my wings are thin.
No matter how high my defense might be, even I have my weak points.
The wound will not prevent me from flying, but it will certainly reduce my mobility.
If it attacks again while I’m taking off, I’ll be in serious danger.
Giving up on fleeing into the air, I resolve to intercept the brat on the ground instead.
Honestly! Why should I have to go through such an awful experience?!
I have had no luck whatsoever in recent times!
I flap my uninjured wing with all my strength, whipping up a powerful wind.
Yet somehow, the whelp cuts through that wind and charges toward my neck.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, whelp!”
As the brat soars toward me, I lash out with a big bite.
My fangs clash against the brat’s swords.
The taste of blood fills my mouth, but it’s only a slight cut to my lip, not a major wound.
The brat fends off my bite with both swords.
Now that it is rendered immobile, I hit it with my Breath.
A point-blank attack.
It cannot possibly dodge this!
Surely, even the whelp will not survive a direct hit from my Breath attack.
But it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.
Apologies to my lord, but he will have come up with some excuse to that terrifying D for me.
…But it appears I am premature in thinking about what comes after this battle.
The whelp’s swords produce fire and lightning, clashing against my Breath.
My attack proves more powerful, but the flames and lightning on its blades have lessened its effect.
As the powers collide, they cause an explosion that sends the whelp flying backward.
Grrr! Insolent brat!
That was not enough to finish it off?
But this is the perfect chance. It’s been blown off its feet.
Now is the time to finish it with another Breath attack!
To that end, I draw in another lungful.
At that moment, something slips from inside my mouth into my throat.
What did I just swallow?
My mouth was so full of blood that I didn’t realize anything else was there.
The feeling of dread is immediate, but even then it is too late.
The thing that I swallowed causes a massive explosion in my stomach.
“Guh?!”
Instead of my Breath attack, flames spurt out of my mouth.
What just happened?
I swallowed something…and it exploded?
What was it?
The whelp wasn’t holding anything except its two swords.
Its…swords?
Oh no!
Swords!
The whelp’s power is to create magic swords.
It must have made a dagger-size exploding magic blade while I couldn’t see it!
I’ve been had!
Like my wings, there are other parts of me that are not nearly as tough, in spite of my high defense.
And of course that goes for my innards as well.
An ordinary dragon might very well have died from this attack.
Even I have taken a great deal of damage.
This…does not bode well.
The damage is severe.
On top of that, the little brat is back on its feet—not only that, it’s already charging at me while I am still reeling.
Its body is wreathed in fire and lightning.
That must be protecting it from my cursed ice.
The fearless creature’s attack closes in on me without mercy.
I raise my front legs to try to ward off the attack, but its sword slices deep into my legs instead.
Then the other sword swings and creates another wound.
No.
It can’t be!
I am truly going to die!
My lord!
Help me!
Pitifully, I look in the direction where my lord stood in order to plead for help, but he is no longer there.
What?!
My lord! Where have you gone?!
No, no, no!
I don’t want to diiie!
But my pleas are in vain, for the whelp’s attacks only become fiercer.
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