Arcturus

The man watched as his subordinates moved into position, with each member of his party leading their own squads of adventurers. In a clan subjugation quest like this, it would be more effective to fight that way, instead of each party sticking to their own groups. Of course, it could only be accomplished by a well-trained clan, not one that had been just formed. He had been running this joint for about five years now, and they had been in many quests together, so they certainly had many experiences under their belts—fights where the enemy was easier or harder than they had expected, fights where they were taken by surprise, etc. This was the first time they would be tackling a dragon though. But Arcturus was confident. With their numbers and skills, they should be able to pull it off.

“...You’re grinning. I don’t like that.”

His friend, Red, was standing beside him, as he too oversaw the movements of the clan. As second-in-command, he would be in charge of the frontline fighters, while Arcturus himself would be the commanding leader that oversaw every group. Of course, Red himself was a frontline fighter—a brawler to be exact, who fought in a manner so terrifyingly brutal that he started to earn himself the nickname of Red The Savage.

"What?" He turned to face his friend. "Aren't you excited? We're going to fight a dragon at last! That's the dream of every adventurer! 'Tis a deed that is told in songs and poems!"

The beastman couldn't exactly disagree with his friend. After all, he himself was excited for their upcoming fight. Back home, he had a beastwoman of high stature whom he was fond of, to the point that he could only get her hand in marriage if he proved to his folks that he was a worthy enough warrior to bed her. And one way to do that was to go on a dragonslaying quest and succeed.

He just hoped that this quest still counts, even if he needs the help of a whole adventurer clan to do it.

"Be vigilant. Do not celebrate until the beast is truly dead. And be ready to retreat as well, if the situation grows unfavorable, just like we have planned."

"I know, I know. Sheesh, for a big, strong guy, you sure are a worrywart. You know, that's why you're not popular with the ladies."

"Oh, shut your trap. You know I already have my sweetheart back home."

The two stopped their banter once they saw all of their forces were in position. They then went forward with the frontline fighters, inching closer and closer to the dragon. Their goal was simple—to get as close as they could to the monster before waking it up. They would have the pre-emptive attack, and the dragon would be wholly occupied by the fighters to not attack the mages and archers. Ideally, it wouldn't fly either, making its wings a high priority target.

Arcturus' other girlfriend, Marka, was there as well. She was an expert at fighting in close range using her dual daggers. Her role would be to hit the dragon at its weak spots as much as she could without putting herself in danger. Let the fully-armored warriors receive the attacks of the dragon.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t get far until the dragon noticed their presence.

“Ready yourselves! It’s waking up!” Arcturus yelled, readying his longsword. He didn’t really have formal training in either of the two big sword schools, but if one were to examine his style, they would notice that he utilized a mixture of the two. Sometimes he would go on full offense, mimicking Lancelot-style, while at other times, he would be on the defensive, mimicking Galahad-style. It’s fair to say that his skill on both of them was around Adept-rank.

The dragon stirred, opening its blue eyes, scanning the threat that lay before it. Immediately the blizzard intensified. It didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by it. It could clearly see through the harsh weather, while its opponents could not do the same.

Here, the archers and mages were readying their bows and spells. However, they didn’t fire yet. The frontline fighters had to be the one to attack first, to ensure that the dragon’s attention would be locked on to them.

“Charge!”

With that yell, Arcturus ran forward, with Red following beside him. The two became the vanguards of the frontline fighters, confident that they would be able to handle whatever attacks the dragon sent out to them. That way, the rest of their group would be able to see the way the dragon fought, lessening the chance that they would be caught off-guard by its assault.

The dragon, realizing that there were these lowly menfolk going after its life, opened by blasting the two with its ice breath. However, thanks to the way it had to lift up its head first, the attack was wholly choreographed, allowing an easy dodge for the two.

Arcturus went to the left, while Red went to the right. Arcturus then sent a series of sword slashes towards the creature, allowing Red to close in the gap as the dragon was preoccupied with blocking said slashes with its tail.

Red roared as his claws extended from his nails. Like a true bearkin, he began scraping the dragon’s scales, slashing it over and over without hesitation.

Only to find out that his brutal blows were no match against its toughness.

Grr, not strong enough.

Knowing that he was outmatched, he quickly retreated, right before the dragon swung its tail at him.

A dragon is well-known to be impervious to physical attacks. Your best bet is to kill it using magic, and even then, the creature still resists it well enough that you need a group of magicians to constantly bombard it with spells until it perishes. 

Arcturus’ slashes suffered the same fate. He too was not strong enough to deal any significant damage to the dragon.

Even so, it was enough. The dragon’s attention was now on them. And now, the mages and archers could attack.

“Archers! Fire at will! Target the dragon!” Sylphy yelled. 

Of course, every single archer there was equipped with armor-piercing arrows, intended to be used against highly armored foe. They would have used mithril arrows… if they actually had money for such a frivolous thing.

“Mages! Blast that creature with your flames!”

The one that led the mages was a gnome mage named Talkin. He was part of Arcturus’ party, the Quiet Slayers, and, just like every one of its members, he was also an S-rank Adventurer. Like most gnomes, he was short and possessed a cute feature akin to a child. Don’t let this make you underestimate him however, as he was a Master-level Fire mage.

He raised his staff high onto the air as he began chanting for his strongest spell, Explosion. The other mages followed suit, through they chanted Advanced-level Fire spells instead, not being Master-level mages themselves.

And then, once Arcturus and Red were well out of the blast radius, the mages let loose.

The dragon was enveloped in a blizzard of flames. It cried in pain as its skin and insides were burned alive. As a frost dragon, it didn’t have the same level of flame resistance as its brothers, especially the flame ones.

As it recovered, the archers followed suit, raining their arrows on the creature, knowing that its scales should be weakened from all the spells that just hit it. It roared once again, as not one or two or three but many arrows managed to pierce its scales, injuring the flesh that laid hidden beneath it.

It wasn’t down for the count yet though. Not even close.

It then knew what had to be the one. These insects on the ground weren’t the real threat! It was the other insects who could breathe fire just like its brethren!

It then began raising his wings in an attempt to fly. However…

“Don’t let it get away! Attack it!” Arcturus yelled.

The fighters immediately swarmed towards the weakened dragon. Their goal? Dogpile on the creature, attacking its wings as much as they could so that it would be unable to fly. With great speed, Marka threw her poisoned dagger to where the dragon’s wings connected to its body. It was coated with a certain alchemical compound that would trigger paralysis. The Quiet Slayers didn’t really have an alchemist as part of their party, but a couple members of the Emerald Exodus were of that occupation. They would have coated the arrows and swords with said poison as well, but they chose to instead make a hyper-concentrated version of it, in the hopes that it would be able to pierce the extremely high poison resistance of a dragon. To produce the same poison for everyone would mean months of preparation, so Arcturus voted against that.

The dragon was angry now. These flies were becoming more and more of an annoyance. It swept its tails, swung its claws, and breathed its frost, but none of its attacks seemed to be effective. Any wounds they suffered would be near instantaneously healed by their clerics. It tried biting them as well, but they just knew to keep out from its biting range at all times. Even the blizzard it was producing off its body didn’t make them falter.

And, as it sensed that its movements were slowing, as more and more minor blows landed on his body, it started to feel fear. It knew that there was a chance it could be defeated by these flies now.

And so, it had no choice. It had to call for aid.

“Graaah!”

When it saw an opening, it let out the biggest roar that it had ever produced throughout the entire battle.

And then, the snowy ground itself shook, as one by one, frost drakes burst forth out of it.

Unbeknownst to them, all this time, they had been standing above a frost dragon's breeding nest.

The dragon was a she, and she had just laid down multiple frost drake eggs not too long ago. That's why she had moved into this mountain. Because the way frost dragon works, every time the female became pregnant from the male, she would leave in search of a new nest. And this mountain just happened to be chosen. She made the mountain snowy, buried the eggs under a deep and hard layer of snow, and then waited until they hatched.

And now, these drakes—they were a new batch that had just popped out of their eggs. Not that new, as they were around one month old or so, but like all dragons, they were already strong even though they were terribly young, especially in dragon years. And, like most frost drakes, they spent most of their time sleeping under a thick layer of snow, only coming out to hunt (the mother didn’t feed them anything). They did that until they got older, where they would actually start to sleep on the surface.

This, of course, was a knowledge most adventurers were unaware of. Not a lot of people had to fight dragons, and even less had the courage to examine how a dragon works biologically. And their scouting had been less than ideal, thanks to Arcturus telling them to cut it short so that he could sleep with Flameu tonight.

In short, this was something they were completely unprepared for.

“W-what? What is going on?”

“Drakes! There are drakes everywhere!”

The frontline fighters began to panic. This wasn’t in their plan. Not to mention that they were now flanked, with the dragon at the front and the drakes at the back.

“Retreat! Retreat!” Arcturus yelled. He knew that it was unwise to continue their fight in this condition, even though they were so close to finishing off the mother dragon.

The mages and archers were frazzled as well. They didn’t know whether they should attack the drakes or the dragon now. Thankfully, Sylphy and Tarkin were there to give them the orders they desperately needed.

“Cover their retreat!” Sylphy yelled with a calm and collected look. “Aim at the drakes that could cut off their escape path!”

“Resume firing at the dragon!” Talkin shouted. “Do not let it chase after them!”

The drakes were no slouch. Being A-ranked monsters, they were quite capable of being real threats to the frontline fighters, who themselves were A-ranks themselves. Arcturus and Red quickly moved to the left and right of the group, with the former cutting any drakes that got close with his sword while the latter used his claws and bear-like hands to punch, stab, and grapple the drakes to their death. The warriors wearing heavy armors and shields moved to the sides as well, blocking any of the drakes’ attacks from reaching their weaker compatriots, while the light-armored fighters moved forward the fastest, clearing the route of their retreat from the drakes.

It would have worked, if not for the fact that the dragon was healthier than they thought.

The moment she realized that they were running away, it lifted its wings and flew. It knew that the real threat was still the ants who had barraged her with flames and arrows.

Both the elf and the gnome’s eyes widened in horror as they realized what this meant.

“Retreat! RETREAT!”

The dragon roared, and she immediately went after one of the groups. It didn’t matter to her which one. She only knew that she wanted to rend their flesh and bones asunder.

Unfortunately, it was the elf’s archer squad whom she had chosen.

The archers immediately scattered. However, two of them were too late to react, and they were swallowed by the dragon’s frost breath, turned into solid ice statues. Another two then fell, with one actually being a cleric posted there just in case. The archer desperately fired her arrows towards the dragon, while the cleric started to chant his Barrier spell. It didn’t work. The dragon might feel some pain from the former’s attacks, but it was too furious to care. With her claws, they were rendered mere chunks of flesh as her attack connected. The cleric wasn’t able to erect his barrier in time—a weakness that most mages had.

“Katerina! Rafael!” Sylphy yelled. She knew those two people. She wouldn't say they were close friends or anything, but they were certainly companions-at-arms that had fought through many battles together before.

In tearful anger, the elf fired off her bow in succession. If arrows couldn’t pierce the dragon’s scales, then there was only one way her attacks would be able to do any significant damage. And that is, to aim down its throat right as it was about to fire off her frost breath. It was a completely reckless and foolish plan, and yet, she justified it in her head. I have to buy the others time! She told herself. As their leader, she had a duty to protect them after all.

There!

Right as the dragon opened her mouth, she launched her arrow. It actually managed to enter its throat, landing at the ceiling of its inner mouth.

And yet, it didn’t stop. It still launched its frost breath anyways. She had expected it to scream in pain, thus cancelling its attack. She had underestimated a dragon’s veracity, and she was about to pay the price.

There was a common saying that you would see your life flash in your eyes as death came for you. And that was exactly what the elf was seeing at that very point. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, surrendering to her fate.

Only, the attack never came. Instead, a boy, his cloak flowing through the wind, came out of nowhere and somehow blocked the attack, redirecting it to the sides, allowing it to pass around them without harming a single hair in the process.

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

It was the boy that court mage came with.

“Y-you… w-why?”

The boy didn’t answer. Instead, as the frost attack dissipated, he dispelled his protective wall, firing what looked like an offensive spell towards the dragon.

“W-what… what was that?!”

She couldn’t even see the attack. She only heard a loud sound, almost like an explosion, before the dragon reeled in pain, as the invisible attack seemingly hit it right on its head.

To her surprise, she saw it pouring out. Dragon blood, flowing out from its forehead.

It roared, and it decided to flee. The boy wasn't finished however. As the dragon retreated, he fired another of the same spell. And another. And another.

And now, she could see it. He seemed to be firing what looked like a sphere of air at a speed so fast her eyes could barely perceive it.

Two of them landed—one on each wings. The dragon lost its balance and fell from the skies as a result.

For the very first time in her long life as an elf, she saw a dragon being treated like this. There was no doubt about this. Whoever this person was, he was far superior in strength than any of them were. Not even their Master-level gnome mage could compete.

T-this boy… just who is he?

“Get your friends out of here and run. The dragon will attack again once it heals his wound,” he told her without even looking back. He knew about the regenerative ability of a dragon. Not only that it was tough to damage, but it could heal any damages it received overtime as well. No wonder it became the top monster of the Holy Continent.

“R-right.” She could only nod. She then saw him jumping off the cliff, downwards towards the frontline fighters who were no doubt in the process of being overwhelmed by the drakes.

Wind Wall. It was a spell the boy had invented on the months of travel he had ever since he fulfilled his duty as the second Imperial Princess' hired bodyguard. By manipulating air pressure, he created a highly dense air that was fully solid. He had tested its durability on a couple of monsters on his way here, and from what he had learned, he knew that it worked similarly to a cleric’s Barrier spell. The more he focused on it, the stronger it would be. He didn’t know whether it would be able to block a dragon’s breath attack though. Yet he jumped in anyways. He couldn’t just let the elf die after all.

The boy didn’t realize it there, as he was too occupied by his own relief that his spell actually worked against a dragon, but he had just made a really cool heroic entrance—something that he had always dreamed on doing, especially when it’s done to rescue a busty damsel-in-distress like the elf. And he didn’t realize it afterwards either, as he knew he had to move fast if he was going to save the rest of these people, and to kill the dragon at the same time.

He just might be at his coolest when he doesn’t try to be cool after all.