Chapter 132
Ah! Damn it! I’m really glad I’m fighting the Wind Dragon, you bastard!!
I desperately try to focus on the positives to keep myself from drowning in despair, forcing my morale up despite the overwhelming odds.
This plaza isn’t all that big.
In terms of size, it’s about as large as a small park in a residential area.
Big enough for little kids to play tag, but by middle school, you’d start feeling cramped.
Two large boulders at either end—big enough to hide behind if I spread my arms—and one in the center that I could crouch behind if I adjust my posture. Then four more scattered around, just tall enough to conceal me if I duck.
These are all indestructible objects.
And at the same time, they’re my armor, my shield.
"If this were the Fire Dragon, the whole place would be a sea of flames by now!!"
I slide behind one of the smaller rocks, blocking the Wind Dragon’s Wind Cutter, then take a shot at a Wyvern swooping in at me while still crouched.
"If this were the Water Dragon, the battlefield would be flooded, and I’d probably be drowning by now!!"
Not a headshot, but my arrow pierces the vulnerable scale on its throat, clean through. The Wyvern plummets straight down.
"And if it were the Earth Dragon—wait, what?!"
I keep trying to convince myself how lucky I am to be fighting the Wind Dragon instead of the others.
Out of the corner of my eye, I confirm the Wyvern crashing into the ravine. But before I can finish it off, I see the Wind Dragon’s next move and immediately break into a sprint.
I roll into cover behind the central boulder—the one big enough to fully hide behind if I adjust my stance.
The next breath attack slams into the rock, but since it’s part of the dungeon’s structure, there’s no risk of it breaking.
If this were outside, that attack would’ve blown it to pieces.
"Thank god it’s a dungeon!! Seriously, I mean it!!"
The fact that it’s sticking to long-range attacks is the only reason I’m still alive.
If the Wind Dragon decided to close in for melee, I’d have to deal with that, but at least with ranged combat, I still have a fighting chance.
That said, the reason it’s not engaging in close combat is simple—just like the Wyverns, it’s not built for it.
It has wings on its back, four limbs, and forearms capable of attacking, but its body is slender compared to other dragons.
Its streamlined form is built for speed and flight, meaning it lacks raw power. It has no reason to give up its aerial advantage just to brawl on the ground.
Of the four elemental dragons—Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind—the Wind Dragon is the fastest, specializing in long-range combat from the skies.
Distance, in a way, is its greatest defense.
Biting back the urge to flip off the Wind Dragon for its relentless attacks, I wait for its breath to end before bolting toward the largest boulder for better cover.
"Out of my way!!"
A Wyvern tries to cut me off, moving into my path as I flee the Wind Dragon’s range. I channel all my killing intent into a headshot.
I knew the moment I released the arrow that it would hit.
And just as I predicted—clean headshot.
Wait… am I in some kind of awakened state right now?
I recognize this feeling.
My focus is at its peak, instantly distinguishing between what I can and can’t do.
It’s like that ultra-focused zone I’d enter after chugging energy drinks back in my FBO (Fantasy Battle Online) ranking days.
I can feel every movement of my body with perfect clarity, my fingers as precise as a concert pianist’s before a packed audience.
This is the same sensation I had at my absolute peak.
Honestly, this awakening couldn’t have come at a better time.
But I don’t know how long it’ll last.
*Hah… hah…*
My breathing is ragged, sweat pouring down.
The energy I’m burning far outweighs what I’ve taken in.
No matter how high my stats are, my stamina isn’t infinite.
My pounding heart reminds me that my body won’t hold out much longer.
Desperately steadying my breath, I pull out my canteen from my Magic Bag and take a quick sip, trying to funnel whatever energy I can back into my body.
I barely have time to stow it before grabbing a handful of dried fruit and shoving it into my mouth.
The faint sweetness seeps into me, creating the illusion of instant energy, and I convince myself I can still keep going.
It’s not like it actually restores me immediately, but I know this small bite will matter later.
That’s the gut feeling I get, so I take the briefest pause from attacking to secure it.
"Okay… I’m still good."
I trust that instinct.
In moments like this, it’s not logic—it’s pure survival instinct.
When you’re cornered, rationality narrows your focus to conserve energy, but right now, my instincts are screaming that this premonition is important.
And the fact that I can still heed it means I’ve got some fight left.
I’m running at full throttle, yet my mind stays ice-cold. That’s my current state.
Maintaining it takes an insane amount of energy.
One slip, and I’ll crash out of it—but I have to keep this focus going.
To sustain it, I shed all unnecessary tension, block out distractions, and zero in on the moment.
"Not gonna miss now!!"
I hype myself up, shouting to keep my spirits high.
Might be pure willpower, but right now, it’s the only way to ignore the exhaustion.
I shoot down another Wyvern, finishing it off.
I pat myself on the back for the clean execution, reinforcing my confidence.
Then—
"There!!"
Staying hyper-focused sharpens my reflexes even further.
I widen my vision, dart around, keeping the Wind Dragon in front of me while tracking the Wyverns’ positions.
My thoughts race so fast I worry my brain might overheat, nosebleed imminent.
That’s how little rest I’ve had.
At this point, my arrows fly on pure instinct—piercing Wyvern skulls mid-flight, sending them spiraling down.
"Downdraft?!"
After intuition comes rationality—predicting the enemy’s next move.
If the attack comes from the side first, the next one’s from above.
Since the air hasn’t vanished, it’s not an Air Zero Field.
I dodge the incoming pressure wave, then land a headshot on a Wyvern crushed into the ground by the blast.
"Still can’t kill them unless they fall, huh?"
In terms of raw damage, a shot to a fatal weak point would normally be an instant kill—but not for monsters in this world.
I have to factor in fall damage to secure the kill.
I tried luring Wyverns into the Wind Dragon’s spells, but the damage just isn’t enough.
"Need two shots, then."
A second arrow through the skull finally turns it to ash.
Then—
"Huh? The Wyverns are acting weird."
Just a moment ago, they were relentless. Now, they hesitate.
Because I killed one of their own?
No, that can’t be it.
I’ve been landing headshots left and right, and they never faltered before.
Dungeon monsters—except bosses—respawn over time.
Like an endless swarm of soldiers.
That’s why they fight without fear of losses.
Yet now, even if just for a second, they held back.
"Perfect timing!"
Seeing that, I know—
It’s time to counterattack.
"Dragonslayer!"
My Flame Demon Great Bow has evolved into the Dragonslayer Flame Demon Great Bow.
I can’t help but shout as I nock an arrow and let it fly at a Wyvern.
Just because it’s a Dragonslayer now doesn’t mean one shot will kill a Wyvern.
But I’m closer to one-shot kills than before.
The arrow, infused with lethal intent, flies faster—meaning more power.
And it carries a special effect against dragonkin.
The result?
The arrow doesn’t just hit—it punches straight through the Wyvern’s face.
Not just lodged in.
*Through.*
A clean hole blown right through its skull.
I didn’t finish it, but the power boost is undeniable.
A headshot crit with this kind of damage feels *good.*
(Though I’m a little disturbed that a Wyvern can still live with a hole in its face.)
Since it hasn’t turned to ash, it’s still alive—but as it plummets, I finally turn my attention to the Wind Dragon.
**"■■■■■■■!!!"**
The Wind Dragon roars.
Warning its underlings?
Unfortunately, even FBO’s veteran players never fully deciphered monster language.
So my rough interpretation might be off, but I doubt it’s entirely wrong.
Because the Wyverns’ movements change.
They’ve realized the shift in my aggression stems from my bow.
This kind of behavior existed in FBO too.
It’s like they instinctively sense the "Dragonslayer" effect—a weapon specialized to kill their kind.
Some players theorized that anti-monster weapons emit a "killing intent" aura.
With a name like "____slayer," no one really disputed that.
In practice, monsters *do* act differently when you wield one.
They attack less, dodge and block more.
Even now, despite me shooting them down with my bow, the Wyverns no longer recklessly dive into my range.
No more reckless breath attacks, no lone wolves breaking formation.
They encircle me, waiting for an opening.
Which, ironically, makes it easier for me to move.
"Not like they’d just panic and let me escape… right?"
But the encirclement doesn’t loosen. If anything, they’re watching me even closer.
Now that I’ve got what I need, I’d love to retreat—but they won’t let someone with a weapon that threatens them just walk away.
So my only way out is to bring down the Wind Dragon myself.
In my mind, I replay all those low-level boss clear videos I’ve watched.
The countless strategies players bled and sweated to develop are worth more than any treasure right now.
The Wind Dragon’s patterns, the Wyverns’ movements, the optimal solutions—
I form hypotheses, test them through trial and error.
Those results became guides, shared with countless players.
With that knowledge, my chances of winning are slim—but they exist.
"Alright… let’s do this."
The conditions are set, though far from perfect.
But if I wait for a better opportunity, I’ll collapse before it comes.
To turn things around, I have to force the opening myself.
I take one deep breath—
And then—
"Here goes!"
For the first time, I charge straight at the Wind Dragon.
**"■■■■■■!!"**
In response, it rallies its Wyverns and unleashes another spell.
I dodge the first strike, countering with a single arrow.
Slipping through the gaps of its Wind Cutter, I take the shot.
The arrow streaks toward the Wind Dragon at terrifying speed.
At this range, against a moving target, a headshot is near impossible.
But a body shot? That should land.
Or so I thought—until the arrow veers off course.
"Wind Veil! Of course it’d use that!"
The Wind Dragon’s defensive spell deflects the arrow, leaving only a glancing blow.
No damage.
If this were a game, it’d show a measly "1" floating above its head.
To beat the Wind Dragon, I *have* to break through this defense.
My raw firepower isn’t enough for a head-on assault.
I don’t have any armor-piercing skills either.
Wind Veil—a skill that redirects attacks using wind currents.
If this were my first time seeing it, I’d despair.
But it *has* weaknesses.
"First—it’s not permanent!"
The effect lasts three minutes for the Wind Dragon.
Cooldown: one minute.
I watch for the moment it drops, then fire.
**"■■■■■!!?"**
This time, the arrow sinks deep into its torso.
Second weakness—wide-area spells like this consume massive mana.
Even for the Wind Dragon, it can’t spam this forever.
And third—
"Breath attacks are my opening!!"
It can’t use Wind Veil while charging a breath.
The Wind Dragon, enraged by my attack, prepares to unleash one—leaving it completely vulnerable.
I draw another Dragonslayer arrow—
And take my shot.