Episode 6

The Talk Mountains. It was a quiet place of bare rock that the main story never visited, and the two of them had come there.

They had encountered no battles along the way. The work had speculated that, because it was considered the basilisk’s lair, other monsters stayed away.

“There isn’t a single monster in sight. It seems they instinctively avoid dragonkin.”

“Trash mobs are a nuisance. This works out.”

He felt a thrill at his first real fight, but fear came with it. The plan to do a light warm-up battle before the basilisk fell through.

(I figured there’d be a few enemies, but zero? We didn’t come all this way just to go back.)

Hiroto had assumed not everything would match the original for better or worse, but the range’s terrain, the presence or absence of monsters, and even the spot said to be the basilisk’s lair were largely the same as the game. There were plenty of differences between a game screen and reality, but he had no room to analyze them now.

“And that cave would be—”

“You can feel it, can’t you? Let’s get on with it.”

Brink watched Zeke’s stride from nearby. There was no hesitation; they had reached this point by the shortest route to the target. He wondered how Zeke knew things in such detail, but that could wait until after everything was resolved.

“We do it as planned. Get ready.”

They placed several spherical objects at the cave entrance.

These were “Paralysis Smoke Orbs,” which, as the name implied, produced a smoke that caused paralysis. Outdoors, wind made them less effective, but in enclosed spaces like caves, they were devastating.

Paralysis restricted the target’s actions and tilted the fight in their favor. There was no need to fight head-on.

“As planned, the smoke is filling the space. It should reach the poison dragon.”

“…Seems it did. —Here it comes!”

“GugyAAAAAA———!”

A roar shook the air and thundered through the surroundings.

A dragonkin with a lurid look appeared, eyes bloodshot with rage.

“The basilisk…”

Its height wasn’t much, but its body length reached four meters. A quadrupedal dragonkin, it had sharp talons and fangs, and tough scales. Despite its looks, it was nimble, and a charge would deal massive damage.

The basilisk fixed on its targets and moved toward the two of them, but—

“DOOOOM!”

A cascade of explosions rang out, and the ground shook hard. It was the sign that the other trap they had set had triggered.

“Good! Direct hits!”

“Underbombs”—small placeable bombs that automatically detonated under a set load—were a type of support item. Their power wasn’t high, but simultaneous detonation increased the damage.

Clunky in the game due to system limits, the tactic worked well in the real world.

“Cheap gear, but just right for trash.”

The blasts had cracked its prized talons and scales here and there. It wasn’t a huge blow, but they had seized the initiative.

“Don’t interfere. Keep watch on the perimeter.”

“Understood. But if it gets dire, I’m joining in!”

Brink clearly had more real-battle experience. But in a fight against a basilisk, Zeke had far more varied information. Rather than hamper Zeke’s strengths with awkward teamwork, Brink chose to trust and wait.

“You’re looking awfully pathetic. A lizard pretending to be a dragon?”

Zeke leveled his sword and fixed the basilisk in his sights.

Perhaps taking it as a taunt, it charged with an angry roar.

Zeke’s (Hiroto’s) first real battle began.

Sweeping slashes from the forelegs in succession, tail slams, a low-center-of-gravity rush—all powerful attacks, but Zeke dodged with minimal movement. The attack patterns were mostly the same as in the game, making them easy to read.

Thanks to the “Paralysis Smoke Orbs,” its speed wasn’t at full, giving him leeway to evade, and he struck precisely at scale cracks opened by the Underbombs.

“Feeling rough? Hard on you just after waking?”

There was no need to fight fair. In a world where there were no retries like a game, he wouldn’t pick and choose his methods. Winning was all that mattered.

The basilisk lowered its head and raised its tail. In the next instant, purple gas gushed from its mouth—its signature venom breath.

“Too slow, you sluggish lizard.”

Normally the breath came without a windup, but paralysis added a beat. No matter how strong an attack, if it didn’t land, it meant nothing. Evade, deflect, counter. He built a pattern and drove it into a corner.

(I thought I understood how abnormal he was, but… to fight a dragonkin this well at all?)

The fight had become one-sided, with Zeke taking no hits. Perhaps the basilisk realized it too; rage made its attacks sloppy.

“Time, then.”

The basilisk, which hadn’t let up its attacks, suddenly stopped moving.

“KishAAAAA——!”

After a piercing cry, the basilisk’s body was shrouded in poison gas. It armored itself head to toe, with miasma drifting around it.

“What is this!?”

“Shut up and do your job. Don’t go near it, and don’t stand downwind.”

They had fought in close quarters until now, but the poison gas forced Zeke (Hiroto) to keep his distance. For the basilisk, though, even without a finishing blow, inflicting any amount of poison could lead to victory. Cornered, its survival instinct flared, making it more agile.

“Without ranged options, we should pull back for now! We need reinforcements who can use magic!”

As Brink shouted, the basilisk leapt high. With its massive body, it sprang nearly five meters and dove for Zeke.

“—! Zeke-sama!”

A crash echoed around them. The poison gas kept Brink from seeing Zeke’s situation.

No matter how skilled a fighter he was, a twelve-year-old taking a charge from a nearly two-hundred-kilo basilisk wouldn’t survive.

Brink fought the urge to rush in. If he approached rashly, the gas would fell him. Above all, he had decided to trust Zeke—and trust meant waiting.

The dust and poison gas spreading through the area cleared. The still-living basilisk—and Zeke, encased behind an ice wall—came into view.

“That’s magic…”

“Idiot. When did I say I couldn’t use magic?”

“Icicle Protect.”

A sturdy wall of ice completely shut out the impact and the poison gas.

From the recoil of its charge, the basilisk was stuck fast. Judging from the groans leaking out, it had taken a severe shock.

“Not just swordplay, but magic too.”

“Seems this is as far as it goes.”

Zeke began an incantation.

When he had first tried to use magic, he had been half in doubt, but he succeeded without a hitch. In hindsight, he’d strangely never pictured failure.

In the work, Zeke tormented players with a wide repertoire of ice magic. Close in and his swordsmanship overwhelmed you; back off and a barrage of spells rained down. Hiroto still remembered cursing, “Why is his chanting so fast?”

Since Zeke was a magic swordsman who used both blade and spells, Hiroto had planned to take cues from that—but first chose to learn the sword, which had led him to Brink.

Once he had the shape of it, he had planned to move to magic next, but here he was thrust into live combat before then. It was on-the-spot, but he trusted that, having possessed Zeke, he would manage. A boss that strong in the game wouldn’t go down so easily—so he believed.

“Sleep now. Ice Javelin.”

A spear of ice pierced the basilisk. Without the slightest deviation, it struck the heart in an instant. The beast that had raged so wildly lay still on the ground. The moment the outcome was decided.

The poison gas lingering after the basilisk’s death dissipated. After confirming complete stillness, Zeke dismissed the magic.

“Zeke-sama! Are you unharmed!?”

“Idiot. What were you watching until now?”

Brink, who had been on perimeter watch, rejoined him. He had prepared healing draughts, assuming some injuries, but it seemed that had been needless.

Looking again at the basilisk, he saw its great length. Brink had fought many monsters, but dragonkin were special; even dead, they exuded menace.

(The fatal wound was the ice spear. Just how far beyond the norm is this boy?)

Along with surprise, a warm, glad feeling welled up.

There were plenty of gifted noble scions, but only in the sense of “for a child”—not children who slayed a dragon in their first real fight.

Even his sword alone had shown no bottom; now, with magic added, Zeke was even more of an unknown. Brink found himself ever more eager for the boy’s future, and honored to have met him.

“Wipe that creepy grin off your face. Process this and move on.”

Zeke froze the basilisk’s corpse with magic. The plan was to butcher it and secure the necessary materials.

“The Adventurers’ Guild should do, yes? They’re used to handling monsters.”

The familiar “Adventurers’ Guild” from games and anime also existed in “Wish Soul.” Even without membership, you could bring in monsters; for a fee, they would butcher or buy them. This time, they would gather only the required parts and sell off the rest.

“Then bring the carriage. We’re done here.”

Hiroto meant, We’re short on time, so let’s hurry, but the auto-translate filter kicked in. At this rate, he thought gloomily, he would never make any friends—but that could wait. From what he’d heard, Brink’s son was in the worst state.

Once they rushed through the butchering, they needed to visit an apothecary and request compounding of the remedy. The most critical ingredient—the basilisk—was taken care of; the rest were commonly available.

The race against time wasn’t over yet.