Dragon X Alive

Stuck sliding backwards, with the System controlling my movements, I could only watch as Dain gave a triumphant yell and bounded forward, overtaking me just as my feet reunited with the pavement, and giving me no time to react as his axe came arcing upward towards my throat...

...Only, the pavement wasn't quite so even as I had expected. My foot snagged on something, and, already off-balance, I immediately toppled backwards. As I fell, a muffled shock registered across my chest, and I saw a spurt of scarlet particles scattering into the darkening sky. A shrill electronic chime sounded, and in the top corner of my view, I saw my HP bar drop sharply into the red.

...But my head remained squarely attached. Instead of finishing me off in one blow, he had only grazed me.

Time slowed to a crawl as my already-quick reflexes strained themselves beyond all rational limits. I remembered Gray mentioning something about the effects of high DEX... “Reaction assist,” he had called it? Well, I don't know how mine would compare to that of an Elf, but at any rate, it seemed like my min-maxing had paid off.

I was already falling. Between my own slip-up and the force of the axe carving across my body, there was no doing anything about that. But what I could do was...

The first thing you learn in almost any martial art is how to break a fall. I curled my leg beneath me, dropping first to a knee, then rolling from there across my back and shoulder, before tumbling right back up into a crouch. Something snagged on my horns as I did, jerking my head sideways as I came up – loose stones? Some tree roots had grown under the pavement and pushed it upward. That must have been what I had to blame – or thank – for tripping me.

“Will you just die already?! [Fatal Crescent]!”

No time to stand. I raised my blade and braced for the worst. My guess had been spot-on – this move really must have been the most powerful in his arsenal. As his axe collided with my hasty attempt at defense, the shock alone was sufficient to pick me up from the ground and send me tumbling through the air...

...For about a foot, at least. Then my flight was cut short by the gnarled trunk of an old tree – the same one whose roots I had just stumbled over, no doubt. The force of the impact sheared off most of my remaining HP, and set my whole world to spinning. But as Dain raised his axe high over his head to deliver the final blow, I realized something.

Catching myself on the trunk, I hauled myself back to my feet like a boxer pushed to the edge of the ring. And rather than trying to defend myself, I lowered my sword to my side and pointed it forward.

“[Helmsplitter]!”

“[Stinger]!”

Even as his axe descended to cleave me from head to foot, I braced myself and lunged forward. I raised my sword, and...

...missed Dain completely. After all, this Special Attack didn't just stab the enemy – it allowed me to rapidly move in a straight line. His axe was longer than my sword, so I couldn't rush headlong into him without being split in two – but I could always just go somewhere else! As he brought his weapon down with overwhelming force, I glided right past him, striking at empty air.

Which left his still-descending axe, deprived of its initial target, to lodge itself firmly in the trunk of the tree behind me.

“Sorry. Looks like your [Woodcutting] Skill must not be high enough,” I taunted, regaining my balance right behind him. The smirk he'd just finished beating off my face returned in force as I turned, raising my sword to strike. With no weapon to defend himself, I just needed one more good hit to –

“[Disengage Slash]!” Dain roared.

Before I realized what had happened, the axe lodged in the tree had disappeared into pixels. Had he unequipped it? But then what weapon was he using? And wait, that move was –?!

It was sheer coincidence that my sword, already in position to strike the same blow, happened to intercept the falchion that appeared within his waiting grasp. I wasn't killed on the spot – but that was as far as my luck went. His blade hooked underneath the crossguard of my own weapon, and before I could so much as tighten my grip, my Iron Sword was sent flying out of my hands.

If he had used any other move, he could have finished me off on the spot. But he didn't. With his attack completed, he leaped backward, resetting the distance between us, and leaving me standing there defenseless as my sword spiraled through the air and planted itself blade-first between the stones of the pavement behind me.

It was too far away for me to reach, so I didn't bother trying. If I had to choose between being killed head-on or dying from a sword to the back, I'd pick the former any day. I spared it barely a glance before returning my attention to the man in front of me.

If looks could kill, I'd be dead before his sword even touched me. His teeth were gritted, eyes bloodshot, brows knotted, gaze boring a hole straight into me. And as my own simulated heartbeat raced in my ears, I'm sure I must have looked much the same.

I was about to die for the first time. But in the entire simulated day I had lived thus far, I had never felt more alive. In that single, frozen instant – as my system-boosted reflexes painted the picture of my imminent demise with crystal clarity – as I stared down a superior foe I had almost overcome... I felt a mix of emotions too intense and too varied to describe.

He had beaten me, true – but he had held all the cards in the first place. The fact that I made him try this hard, the fury I could see brimming in his eyes – that was a kind of victory in and of itself. But with it came shame, disappointment, and anger of my own; I'd given my everything, but here I was, bested by his superior arsenal and statistics. It set something burning within me that I hadn't felt in a long time: the old spark of competition, and the desire – no, the need to grow stronger.

I had entered this fight simply because I had nothing to lose. But now that I'd been beaten, I suddenly wanted with all my heart to win.

Dain opened his mouth. I recognized the stance he had taken. All he had to do was say “Stinger” and I'd be dead before I could blink. And yet, at that moment, the voices I heard weren't his, but rather...

“[Grand Fireball]!”

“...It's time. [Aqua Lance].”

I heard the roaring of flames and the gushing of water – and then suddenly the world around me disappeared amidst a curtain of smoke.

...No, not smoke. Steam.

All at once, I began to wonder. Hadn't the Exile's paralysis expired yet? Surely, I'd bought her enough time by now... so then why had she been facing Rozas head-on, defending herself each and every time rather than avoiding his blows and repositioning herself? His magic seemed to be several orders of magnitude stronger than hers, so what could she possibly stand to gain by weathering it instead of avoiding it?

The answer to that question only hit me when I realized that Dain hadn't.

All at once, a sudden gust of wind split through the makeshift smokescreen, scattering it just as quickly as it had appeared. Or rather than a gust of wind, perhaps it would be better to say that it was the shockwave of something suddenly moving. But rather than Dain, coming to skewer me now that I was defenseless... this thing seemed to be moving the other way; and it was going a lot faster than either of us ever had.

That was when I remembered another thing – one which Dairoku had told me.

“Take Gray here. Leaving aside the fact that his race doesn't get enough Strength to be competitive, even if you made it to the same level, his Dexterity would still be almost twice yours.”

...Just as Dragonkin had the highest Willpower, Elves had the highest Dexterity – and I had already experienced for myself just how big a difference that stat made in determining your movement speed. In other words...

She had been able to move this whole time. The reason she had chosen not to... must have been so that her enemies would forget that she was faster than both of them put together!

The smoke cleared a moment later, revealing the figure of Dain – sword still upraised, face still frozen in a glare, as though he hadn't even had time to see the person who was now standing behind him – or realize that there was now a small, charred hole where his heart should have been.

His body cracked like glass, then dispersed into virtual dust. The sword he had been holding clattered to the ground, leaving me face to face with my unexpected savior. The last rays of sunlight painted the Exile's figure in stark relief, even as the wind kicked up by her own passing caused her mantle and skirt to flutter and billow out behind her like she was some kind of action hero, arrived in the nick of time to save the day.

I had spent this entire day giving Dairoku shit for his melodramatic grandstanding. But this, even I had to admit...

...Damn it. That was actually ridiculously cool.