The Great Sword is not the Main Body!
Chapter 209 – Hero

Shrrng!

Since ancient times, humans have never been able to fly.

The Angels and Demons soared through the sky with the wings on their backs.

The Dwarves flew through the skies by refining their technology.

The Elves borrowed the power of nature to glide above the ground.

Beastkin with wings naturally flew.

Even those without wings couldn’t truly fly like the others, but their powerful leg strength let them stay aloft long enough to feel as though they were flying.

But humans, having nothing, could not fly.

That law held true from the birth of the world until its final moments.

So was flight the only thing humans lacked?

Absolutely not.

Humans had shorter lifespans compared to other races.

Weaker muscles, weaker stamina.

Slower reaction speed, worse instincts in combat.

Our sensitivity to magic was pathetically poor, and our historical legacy was downright miserable when compared to others.

If that were all, it’d be a relief.

But these damn humans, even in such miserable conditions, were always scheming to exploit others. What a goddamn wretched race.

Sure, times have changed now.

Surely, there are many who aren’t like that.

But in my mind, that image is burned in.

I’ve had my fair share of stabs in the back, too.

Anyway, humans are a disgusting, despicable bunch.

But they survived.

They breathed the same air, saw the same scenery, and lived to the very end in the same world as the others.

So then, how?

How did such pathetically weak humans manage to survive alongside the others?

Was it luck?

By clinging to other races?

Because someone as great and powerful as me led them?

No.

Humans survived, 

Because they were weak.

It was precisely because humans were absurdly weak that they were able to survive among the strong.

You might call that bullshit, but it’s true.

While other races pondered how to win, humans thought about how to survive among them.

They abandoned their pride, held their breath, crawled into holes in the ground if they had to, doing whatever it took, by any means necessary, to stay alive.

Because they were so unbearably weak in that hell, they had no choice but to yearn for survival.

Though they fought tooth and nail to earn the right to survive, humans remained weak.

And because of that, 

Because they were weak, we humans couldn’t afford to waste the time we were given.

Because we were weak, we learned to move in sync with others.

Because we were weak, we honed techniques that allowed us to stand against stronger foes.

Because we were weak, we developed the ability to anticipate the next move.

Because we were weak, we sharpened a wisdom the strong would never need.

Shuffle.

The essence born from that struggle, 

Desperation.

Grief and pain.

Terror and rage.

And finally, ruthlessness.

Those were what shaped us.

And at last, 

They became the lethal dagger that pierced the throats of the mighty, who had never even spared us a glance.

Just like that moment, one thousand years ago, 

When I cut down that arrogant lizard who looked down on me from the sky while I stood on the ground.

* * *

One thousand years later, just like now.

Slice, 

[KKAA…]

A dragon’s head, just about to unleash its breath, was severed. Its gushing black smoke and crimson blood rained down as the head plummeted toward the earth.

Its body, still flapping its wings above, hadn’t even realized its head was gone.

“Heh, dumbass.”

Using that falling corpse as a platform, I stepped forward.

And once again, 

Crash!

I stomped with all my might and hurled myself into the swarm of dragons.

As I shot forward, ancient magic spread out in thick waves before me. Dragons lined up, mouths wide open, spewing black smoke.

Deep in their throats, aimed at me, white-hot flames began to gather, flames capable of incinerating oceans, destruction itself condensed into burning breath.

The wall of wind, an insurmountable barrier for a human body, rushed against me. Even from afar, the searing heat of the breaths began to sting my skin. Finally, as the ancient magic circles activated, the world screamed.

Thousands of ancient spells were triggered.

Hundreds of dragons prepared to breathe.

In this inescapable net of death, 

I closed my eyes.

Gripping the longsword in my hand, as if it were my very life.

And at that moment, time began to stretch.

The wall of wind vanished.

The heat scorching my skin faded.

The deafening roars went silent.

And at last, my [mental realm] opened.

A sky overflowing with silence and darkness, with a river of grief flowing through it.

A bottomless abyss echoing only with regret and despair.

In that space, filled with twisted victories, 

I looked back on a life of repeated failure.

Retraced the road I’d walked.

Reflected on the feats I had stacked up.

And then, 

I awakened the [innate ability] I had sworn never to use again.

In that moment, 

A thin, golden line etched itself across the darkness above my inner world.

It looked like it could disappear at any second.

Like a breeze could scatter it.

Like it would crumble at the slightest touch.

But it existed.

It neither vanished, nor scattered, nor crumbled.

It was definitely there.

I turned toward it.

I walked toward it.

I raised my sword toward it.

I, 

Toward that line, 

Following that thread, 

Following the victory granted to me, 

Swung my sword.

―――!

At the point where the golden line was severed, my inner world split apart without a sound.

Time split open began to flow again.  

The wall of wind pressed against my body.  

The searing heat of the dragon’s breath pierced my skin.  

The world’s agonized shriek, past screams and into raw howls, reverberated into my bones.

And then, 

The golden thread I had seen within my mental realm extended through the inescapable hell laid before me.

It started from my left arm.

And ended at the Primordial Beast cloaked in lightning.

It left a bitter taste in my mouth that my victory wouldn’t reach the Nameless One directly.

But if it cost me nothing more than my own left arm to take down that massive bastard, 

“Well, that’s a bargain.”

Heh.

I laughed as I always did.

The first point the thread entangled, 

The claw swung toward me.

The dragon’s storm-wrapped arm.

More precisely, the spot just beyond the path of the storm.

Step, I landed lightly.

What I just did was something impossible by the laws of this world. No being, no matter who, should’ve been capable of it.

But I did it.

Just like that golden thread from my inner world, 

Barely real, yet undeniably present.

A thread of victory.

I made it happen.  

I had to.

Because that is my [innate ability], 

The ability to carve a path to victory.

[KKRRRRRRAAAAAAAA!!]

The dragon, shocked to see me standing on its arm, unleashed a furious roar.

Of course, it wasn’t just any roar.

[Dragon Roar].

A pressure-laced cry that inferior creatures, anything that walked the ground, couldn’t withstand.

Yeah. Inferior creatures.

Naturally, I wasn’t one of them.

I’m goddamn exceptional.

Slash! 

I carved a thick stroke into its shrieking mouth.  

Dark crimson blood sprayed, swirling into the storm and staining the very air.

“Ugh, shit. Wipe your damn mouth.”

Its other hand lunged at me.  

Ancient magic, now fully cast, loomed above.  

Breaths fired without care whether it hit the dragon or not, flooding my vision.

In that chaos, I swung my sword and sliced through the wrist supporting me.  

With the ground beneath me gone, my body tipped sideways.

The [Roar] from its maw turned into a wail of agony.  

From the cleanly severed stump, blood erupted like a waterfall.

Amid that tortured scream and the earth-shaking storm, I let my body ride the wind.  

The wildly flung blood mist scattered around me without touching me.  

Gravity tried to drag me back down, to crush the arrogant me beneath it.

In a moment where I could die any second, 

I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of freefall wrapping my entire body.

Then, 

―――!!

From above where I’d just stood, disaster came raining down,   

Ancient spells packed with cataclysmic heat and dragon breaths tangled in chaos.

Caught in that blast was the dragon whose wrist I’d severed,   

Its remaining arm turned to ash, its massive body annihilated.

Laughing at its miserable end, I leisurely watched its falling limb drift toward me.

When it reached the right height, 

Stab!

I drove my sword into it.  

Using the hilt like a lever, I pulled myself up.  

I landed squarely atop the dragon’s plummeting arm.

I caught my breath.  

Adjusted my posture.  

Sliced through the wind blinding my sight, 

Crash!

And once again, hurled myself toward the horde of dragons.

Through the ever-shifting landscape, my eyes chased after victory.  

And so, I landed at the second point where the thread had tangled,   

The battered skull of a dragon scarred from past wounds.

This time, blood-red claws slashed toward me.  

Clang!

I tilted my sword to deflect them.  

Crack!

I drove my knee up, breaking one of its horns.  

Slice!

And cut off the base that I hadn’t had the strength to rip out fully.

[KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA―!!]

Once again, a desperate scream erupted.

Once again, a massive offensive was unleashed just to kill one weak human.

Once again, dragon pride soared sky-high, determined to avenge their fallen kin by killing that single weak human.

“Idiots.”

Even after seeing their own die so pathetically,   

Still thinking they were superior,   

I burned that stupidity into my eyes.

Crunch! 

And drove my sword into the crown of the wailing dragon’s skull.