Chapter 339 (Patreon)

Ryle found himself trapped between two impossible choices.

The gray world stretched endlessly around them, silent and lifeless. There was no wind, no sun, no distant landmark to focus on. Just an endless sea of dull gray that seemed to swallow sound itself. In the middle of that emptiness sat a man who looked entirely too comfortable.

Dante, one of the heavenly Jhings rested a few meters away, seated on the ground with a massive golden hammer beside him. The weapon alone looked heavy enough to crush a wagon in a single swing. Every so often he lifted a small metal container to his lips and took a drink. Judging by the redness in his cheeks and the relaxed expression beneath his beard, it was undoubtedly alcohol.

The sight would have been almost comical if Ryle didn't know exactly who he was looking at. One of the Four Heavenly Jhings. The realization still made his stomach tighten.

Most people in the Empire knew the title. Even children had heard stories about them. Some tales painted them as heroes. Others described them as monsters wearing human skin. Regardless of which stories were true, one fact remained constant. People who fought Heavenly Jhings usually died.

Which was why Boris's determination worried him far more than Dante's presence. The giant wasn't threatening them. He wasn't even paying much attention to them. Yet Boris kept glancing toward him with the look of someone trying to solve a problem through sheer stubbornness.

That never ended well. Ryle quietly considered his own position. If Boris attacked, the outcome was obvious. Boris would lose. Chelle would likely jump in to help. Then both of them would die. And when that happened, Ryle would be forced to make a choice he had spent months avoiding.

He could continue pretending. Or he could reveal who he really was.

The easiest solution would be to approach Dante and tell him his identity himself. Explain that he worked for the Empire. Explain that he had been sending information whenever opportunities appeared. A Heavenly Jhing would surely understand the value of an informant.

At least, Ryle hoped he would. The thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Strangely, it bothered him more than it should have. If Kana had been here, perhaps the decision would have been simpler.

Ryle frowned at himself.

Simpler? The girl terrified him. Half the time she looked at people as if she were deciding whether they were worth talking to. The other half she somehow managed to save their lives. Strangely, he was certain Kana would win against Dante.

He wasn't entirely sure which version frightened him more. Still, he pushed the thought aside. There was no point dwelling on it. Not now.

"That man looks dangerous," Ryle finally said, breaking the silence. He kept his voice calm and reasonable, careful not to sound nervous. "Maybe we should listen to him and stay here. He doesn't seem interested in fighting us."

Boris immediately looked toward Dante again. The giant took another drink. Still completely unconcerned.

"I know he's dangerous," Boris admitted. The seriousness in his voice surprised Ryle.

Boris wasn't usually the cautious type. Unfortunately, the next words were exactly what Ryle feared.

"But we can't just sit here."

Chelle nodded immediately. "We were separated for a reason," she said. "And if we're trapped here, then the others probably are too."

Her expression darkened slightly. "Which means Kana is probably facing someone dangerous."

"Someone as dangerous as that man," Boris added.

Neither of them looked particularly happy about that possibility. Yet neither hesitated.

Ryle stared at them for a moment. Most people, when faced with an enemy they couldn't defeat, focused on survival. Boris and Chelle focused on helping someone else. It was foolish. Dangerously foolish.

Yet somehow, Ryle couldn't dismiss it as easily as he once would have.

"We need to help her somehow," Boris continued. "Even if we can't win. No. We must win."

Chelle folded her arms and nodded. "At least we can lessen the burden for her."

The conviction in their voices made Ryle sigh quietly. The two of them had already decided. Logic wouldn't change their minds. Facts wouldn't either. If there was even the slightest chance Kana needed help, they would throw themselves toward danger without hesitation.

Ryle rubbed his forehead.

Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

He was trapped inside a mysterious gray world with two idiots determined to challenge a Heavenly Jhing.

Across from them, Dante suddenly let out a low chuckle and took another drink from his flask.

The sound echoed strangely through the empty space. Ryle felt a chill crawl down his spine.

Because for the first time, he had the unsettling suspicion that Dante had heard every word.

And somehow found it amusing.

….

Boris was reluctant to fight the man sitting several meters away.

It wasn't fear. At least, not fear in the ordinary sense.

Ever since receiving his evolved class, he had begun noticing things he never paid attention to before. There was a difference between people who possessed ordinary classes and those who had reached something beyond them. It wasn't visible. There were no texts of god signs floating above their heads. Yet somehow, he could feel it.

The man across from them had crossed that threshold and Boris was certain of it.

What unsettled him wasn't the enemy. It was his new evolved class.

His old fighting style had always been straightforward. Stand firm. Endure. Become a wall that enemies couldn't push through. An immovable mountain. Most of his battles revolved around patience, defense, and waiting for the right moment to strike back.

His new class seemed to disagree with that philosophy entirely. Whenever he activated one of its skills, something inside him shifted.

It urged him forward.

Move. Attack. Dominate.

And Kill.

The feeling wasn't quite a voice. More like an instinct buried deep within his blood, whispering that standing still was weakness.

Boris glanced toward his companions.

Chelle looked excited.

Far too excited. She kept glancing between him and Dante as though she were about to watch a performance instead of a life-or-death battle. Boris doubted she truly understood how dangerous the man before them was.

Ryle, meanwhile, wore a thoughtful expression. Though with Ryle, that didn't mean much. The noble somehow managed to look intelligent and completely lost at the same time.

Boris had long since stopped trying to understand how.

Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. "Chelle."

She immediately turned toward him.

"I want you to stay back and watch for now."

The excitement on her face faded slightly.

"This battle is probably going to get messy. We're saving your skill as a trump card."

Chelle blinked. "A trump card?"

"If things go badly, I'll call your name." For some reason, her cheeks immediately turned red.

She nodded so quickly Boris became concerned she hadn't actually listened to anything he said. Deciding it wasn't worth asking, he shifted his attention.

"Please don't tell anyone about what you're about to see."

Then he looked directly at Ryle. "And you. Stay with Chelle."

Ryle's expression brightened instantly. "I can do that."

The speed of that response made Boris suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Still, it accomplished what he needed. That was enough. A movement against his chest drew his attention.

Thorne crawled out from beneath his armor and leapt gracefully onto Chelle's shoulder. The small drake settled there comfortably while Chelle giggled and poked her nose.

The creature seemed perfectly comfortable with Chelle.

Boris couldn't help smiling. Then he looked back toward Dante. The smile vanished.

His heartbeat quickened. The pull returned. Stronger this time.

The sensation spread through his body like liquid fire, racing through his veins and settling deep inside his muscles.

His class wanted movement.

Violence.

Battle.

Perhaps there really was some sort of drake blood hidden somewhere within its power.

Boris took a slow breath. Then activated it. "[Drake Champion Form]."

At first, nothing happened.

Then his skin began to change.

Tiny crimson scales emerged across his arms and neck. They spread outward in uneven patches, hardening into armor-like plates. His dark hair slowly shifted color until it matched the scales, becoming a deep crimson red.

More scales appeared along his jawline. The transformation wasn't painful.

Across the room, Dante's relaxed demeanor vanished. The metal container slipped from his hand and struck the gray floor with a sharp clang.

For the first time since they had arrived, the giant warrior stood. The lazy amusement in his eyes disappeared completely.

Boris noticed immediately. Whatever Dante had expected to face today, it wasn't this.

Good.

Boris didn't intend to give him time to think. He crouched.

The gray ground beneath his feet cracked from the force however it seemed regenerated after a few moments.

Then he launched himself forward. The leap carried him far higher than he intended. For a brief moment, he was airborne, suspended within the strange gray world. Below him, Chelle and Ryle stared upward with wide eyes.

Boris barely noticed. His entire focus had narrowed onto a single target.

Dante.

As gravity pulled him downward, Boris raised his spear. Power surged through the weapon.

The shaft vibrated. The spearhead elongated. For a brief instant, it transformed into the shape of a massive fang.

"[Fang Strike]."

He thrust downward. Dante reacted immediately.

The enormous golden hammer rose to meet him. There was no hesitation in his movement. The two weapons collided. The impact exploded through the area. Steel screamed against steel.

A shockwave burst outward, kicking up gray dust and forcing Chelle and Ryle to brace themselves. Yet despite the force, the strange world surrounding them remained untouched.

No cracks formed. No damage appeared.

The grey room absorbed everything. For a moment, spear and hammer remained locked together. Boris pushed. Dante pushed back.

Then the older man smiled.

Not the easygoing smile from before.

Not the smile of someone passing time while waiting.

This one was colder.

The smile of a warrior who had finally found something worth taking seriously. "I've changed my mind." His voice echoed softly through the gray area.

The pressure around him seemed to increase. His grip tightened on the hammer. "You need to die too."

For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Boris felt genuinely glad that he had chosen an evolved class. Because if the man in front of him was taking him seriously now...

Then it must mean one thing. He had a chance. Especially if he could time it perfectly with Chelle’s skill.

Post note:

[Drake Champion] it is! I'll show Boris' current status after the fight.Fifth chap of the week.Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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