Menu no.28 - The Ice Dragon

“Keep firing! Don’t stop!!”

Hugo’s voice roared across the battlefield, raw and hoarse, yet unyielding. It cut through the chaos like a war drum, forcing trembling hands to steady and exhausted bodies to keep moving. Arrows rained upward in relentless waves, streaks of steel and fire piercing the frozen air as they slammed into the swarm of lesser dragons circling above the ruined walls.

The sky of the dungeon floor was a fractured dome of stone and ice, illuminated by bursts of flame and magic. Shattered scales rained down like hail, clattering against shields and armor. The shrieks of wounded drakes echoed endlessly, bouncing off the cavern walls and burrowing straight into the nerves.

Then—

“Raiza-sama!”

The scream came from behind me.

My heart dropped.

I turned.

Lysette was falling.

Her small body twisted midair, wings fluttering uselessly as gravity finally claimed her. Her right arm was gone—cleanly severed. Blood sprayed outward before freezing into jagged crimson crystals, scattering across the ground like shattered glass.

For a single, horrifying moment, my mind went blank.

Then instinct took over.

My right hand moved on its own. I grabbed the nearest sword—one embedded half-deep into the stone floor from an earlier skirmish—and hurled it with everything I had.

The blade screamed through the air.

A drake, bold—or foolish—enough to dive toward Lysette barely had time to react. The sword punched straight through its skull. The creature let out a choking screech before spiraling downward, its lifeless body crashing into the rocks below.

Lysette hit the ground moments later.

“Medic! Now!” I shouted.

Two healers sprinted toward her, magic already flaring around their hands, faces pale but focused. I didn’t wait to see more.

This was bad.

No—this was worse than bad.

We’re being overwhelmed.

The smaller dragons weren’t the real threat. They never were.

“Everyone! Brace yourselves!” someone screamed from the rear lines. “The giant dragon is preparing another frost breath!”

My blood ran cold.

I looked up.

At the far end of the battlefield, towering above shattered pillars and broken siege weapons, the giant frost dragon reared its massive head. Ice-coated scales cracked and shifted as its chest expanded unnaturally, drawing in air—and mana.

The temperature plummeted instantly.

Frost spread across the ground in violent waves, crawling up boots and shields, freezing wounded soldiers where they stood. The dragon’s throat glowed an eerie blue-white, light spilling from between its jagged fangs.

If that breath hits us head-on…

We wouldn’t survive another one.

“Damn it…” I muttered.

There was no time.

“No—!” I whispered.

I broke into a sprint.

Ignoring the chaos around me, I ran straight toward the giant dragon. My boots pounded against stone and ice as I leapt over fallen bodies, shattered weapons, and frozen corpses. Every step burned. Every breath felt like inhaling knives.

As I ran, I grabbed weapons embedded in the ground—spears, swords, axes—ripping them free and hurling them aside to clear my path.

Faster.

The dragon’s breath was seconds away.

My lungs screamed. My muscles protested. But my mind was terrifyingly clear.

If it breathes again, this ends here.

I reached the front lines just as the dragon unleashed its roar.

A deafening sound ripped through the dungeon as a torrent of frozen death exploded from its maw.

I leapt.

Mana surged through my body, flooding my limbs, forcing every ounce of strength into a single motion. I hurled my sword—not at its head, not at its chest—

—but straight into the glowing core of its throat.

The blade vanished into the storm of frost.

For a split second, nothing happened.

Then—

BOOOOOOM—!

The breath detonated from the inside.

Ice shattered outward in a violent explosion. The dragon shrieked—a sound so loud and distorted it felt like the dungeon itself was screaming. Its massive body convulsed, wings flailing wildly as it staggered backward.

Cracks spread across its frozen scales.

Its roar turned into a gurgling howl.

The giant dragon collapsed.

Its colossal form slammed into the ground with a thunderous crash, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. Ice and debris flew in all directions. The creature twitched once—twice—

Then went still.

For a heartbeat, there was only silence.

Then—

“Raiza-sama has slain the giant dragon!!”

The shout spread like wildfire.

Cheers erupted across the battlefield—hoarse, broken cheers, filled with disbelief and desperate relief. Soldiers dropped to their knees. Some laughed hysterically. Others simply stared at the fallen dragon, as if afraid it might rise again.

I stood there, chest heaving, sword gone, hands trembling.

Victory.

But—

It felt hollow.

I looked around.

Too many were injured. Too many lay unmoving on the frozen ground. Healers were overwhelmed, running from body to body, faces strained with panic and exhaustion.

This wasn’t a win.

It was survival.

I raised my hand.

“Enough,” I said, my voice carrying despite the chaos. “We withdraw.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Today, we retreat,” I continued firmly. “We are not ready to descend further.”

No one argued.

Hugo stepped forward, blood staining his armor, his breath heavy. He nodded once. “I agree. According to records from the Old World… there are twenty floors in total.”

He glanced back toward the dark corridor leading deeper into the dungeon.

“This is only the sixth floor,” he said grimly. “And we’re already barely standing.”

A heavy silence followed.

I clenched my fists.

Dungeon Drachenfall.

This place was nothing like the dungeons I had conquered before.

It wasn’t just a battlefield.

It was a graveyard waiting to be filled.

As we began organizing the retreat, I cast one last look toward the depths below—the shadows twisting unnaturally, as if watching us leave.

Lord Drachen…

If the rumors were true—if that monster had truly returned—

Then this war was far from over.

And next time—

We would need more than courage to survive.