The Meteor Swordsman Examines The Geo Dragon’s Corpse

—The Geo Dragon is dead!

The moment that report was heard, unrest ran through the subjugation force. That was only natural, since the target they had been about to face was dead.

But more than that—

Who could have done it…?

That question was written on everyone’s face. Phonic was no exception.

Beside him, Carmilla muttered in a cracked voice.

“…Should I call us lucky that an annoying job finished itself for us?”

“We should think that after we confirm the situation.”

If anything, it felt even more troublesome. Originally, it had been a matter of “kill it and be done with it,” but now they had to “investigate and report a completely incomprehensible situation.”

And on top of that, to that merciless Orfred.

How much easier dragon-slaying would have been. With two of the Eight Stars present, there was no way they could have lost even against a dragon.

Swallowing his sigh, Phonic opened his mouth.

“We head to the site at once.”

It was not that far away. Just as the advance party had said, the corpse of a dragon over twenty meters long lay there.

Though they were both lizard-types, it was an entirely different creature from a Giant Lizard.

A body that huge had rampaged there. The surrounding trees had been snapped apart as though a tornado had torn through. All across the ground ravaged by its four enormous legs and thick tail, several stone pillars jutted up.

“…It is certainly dead.”

Muttering that, Phonic felt a headache coming on.

It being dead was not the issue—but the way it had died was obviously abnormal.

A large tree was lodged straight into the dragon’s brow.

A large tree was lodged straight into the dragon’s brow.

Why?

Had he not been consciously maintaining his composure as captain, Phonic might have voiced the question and lost his bearing.

If its neck had been severed by some slash—he could understand that.

If it had been blown away by some spell—he could understand that.

If a hero had slain a dragon, surely those were the sorts of traces that would suit the deed.

But a tree—driven deep into its brow!?

Phonic knew of no dragon-slaying like that. Had an actual tornado somehow risen up, sending a tree flying and, by sheer bad luck, impaling the Geo Dragon?

…No, he could not believe a mere tree could pierce a dragon’s durable scales.

And there were other strange traces as well.

The dragon’s right side was badly damaged. Starting from the right eye, sealed shut with dried blood, countless slash wounds ran downward.

(…Was this a dual-sword style…?)

There were two patterns in the slashes carved into the dragon. Ones that flowed from the right, and ones that flowed from the left. In other words, they should be considered attacks delivered from the right hand and the left hand.

Of course, that itself was one fighting style.

That was not especially surprising.

More importantly—

“Hah!”

With a sharp cry, Phonic drew his sword and slashed at the dragon’s corpse.

The title “Meteor Swordsman” was no empty name. Phonic’s honed skill easily cut through the dragon’s hard scales and the flesh beneath them.

Phonic compared the wound he himself had made to the wounds that had already been carved into it.

The wound was clearly strange. If it had been cut by what one would call a “sword”—or any weapon with a sharp edge, really—then it should have left a clean, sharp wound.

But the slashes carved into the dragon’s body were different.

They felt more as though something blunt—something unsharp—had “forcibly been made sharp” in order to cut.

(…Something unsharp, forcibly made sharp— even to me, that makes no sense…)

Phonic tilted his head inwardly, but that was the only way he could describe the wounds. He had fought with a sword for many years, but this was the first time he had seen gashes like these.

“…To think someone really did kill a Geo Dragon…”

Looking up at the huge dragon’s corpse, Carmilla said that.

“Carmilla, I want to ask you as a mage: is there any spell that could drive a fallen tree into a dragon’s brow?”

“Are you drunk? That is the sort of question I want to answer with. If someone could use a spell that incomprehensible, would it not be faster just to drop a meteor on it?”

Carmilla’s gaze shifted.

Ahead of it was a large gouge in the earth.

“That patch of ground looks different from the others. It looks like it was blown away by Wind Burst—a spell that explodes the atmosphere and creates air pressure.”

Carmilla’s gaze drifted in a smooth arc toward the dragon’s brow.

“If someone cast Wind Burst, calculated the trajectory neatly, and landed it just right, then maybe it would not be impossible…”

“Wait. That still leaves a problem. No matter how much mass a tree has, I cannot believe it could break through a dragon’s scales.”

The “hardness” that had traveled through his sword when he cut the dragon still lingered in Phonic’s hand. It had been on a level where even a master using a first-rate blade could only just get through.

Carmilla placed a hand to her mouth and thought.

“…Hmm, yes. Then for example—an enchantment?”

“An enchantment?”

“The kind that pours magic power into a weapon. Like using Sharp Edge to turn the tree itself into a giant blade—”

“Is that… possible?”

“…No, I wonder… But it is still just a tree, right? I can understand using Sharp Edge on an ordinary sword to cut scales, but even if you put that on a tree…”

That was when it happened.

One of the unit members who had been examining the surroundings approached Phonic.

“Lord Phonic, this was lying around—”

What the man held out were two wooden branches. Each was about the length of a broadsword. Up to halfway down, both were stained bright red.

“It bothered me that they looked different from the other branches…”

Two branches—dual swords.

Red blood—the dragon’s slashed body.

The pieces connected, and Phonic involuntarily caught his breath.

“Thank you. This may be important. May I borrow them?”

Taking the two branches from the man, Phonic examined them closely. Then he swung them down as though tracing the dragon’s wounds—

When he finished, he looked at the shapes of the branches.

Suspicion turned into certainty.

“…Say, Carmilla. If a tree can be strengthened with enchantment, can a branch be strengthened too?”

“Eh, well, of course it can, but—”

Carmilla’s voice wavered with agitation.

“That is even more absurd than using a whole tree. A tree at least has mass, so depending on speed and angle there might be one chance, but there is no way a mere branch could break through a dragon’s defense, even if it were enchanted!”

“…But it matches the wounds. There is no better evidence than that.”

At Phonic’s quiet observation, Carmilla drew in a breath.

Phonic continued without pause.

“What if it were done by a master of enchantment?”

“…If it were a master who had devoted his entire life to enchantment alone, then yes, perhaps… But there are not many users of that level, and if one had come to the Imperial Capital, there is no way they would have escaped Black Dragon’s Fang’s information network.”

“But one exists. There is no other explanation.”

Phonic said it flatly. That unknown person had handled the Geo Dragon using nothing but enchanted branches and a fallen tree. That was the only hypothesis that could explain the current situation.

“Carmilla, you remember too, do you not, the strong one who appeared at Black Dragon’s Fang’s examination site—number 378.”

“Yes.”

“We did not know him. Then it would not be strange for us not to know of a seasoned enchanter either.”

Carmilla did not speak. In silence, her expression accepted Phonic’s words.

Even the Imperial Capital’s largest clan, Black Dragon’s Fang, had failed to detect not one but two mysterious experts. That fact sharpened Phonic’s sense of caution even further.

(…Something may be about to start moving. I need to stay alert…)