"RRYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
His pale skin was all burnt up because of the heat radiating from the dragon he was facing. Damn it. Damn it all. This wasn't supposed to happen! He had the upper hand damn it! He lured the she-beast into his trap with their best meal; gold, and that alone took 35% of his whole fortune. Gold, a metal that dragons love to consume. What a sick joke. But anyways, HOW DID THAT DRAGON KNEW WHERE HE WAS?!
"KKKKKKKRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The Dragonslayer-in-training opened his eyes in wide shock as the red welsh dragon, the descendant of the legendary dragon Ddraig let out a burst of red flames that came out so fast that he didn't have much time to dodge it all.
"!"
His leg. His left leg hurt so much. Even with the ointment that could prevent a third-degree burn with no problem, his leg still felt as if it was completely melted. Oh, he knew what being literally felt. His crappy mother, a real full time Dragonslayer, had made sure he knew and was prepared for everything before she passed away. In those "preparations", the obtaining of the knowledge of certain types of "pain" were not excluded.
He gritted his teeth as he heaved his sword. He was weak, extremely weak. Fighting that monster for seven days and seven nights had worn him out completely, and by the looks of it, the Red Dragon was not doing good too. She was huffing and no longer flying around like an annoying fly. She glared at the human and the human glared back at her. They both knew, they both knew that this was the last stand. This was their final attack. It was the moment when both of them knew that this would be their last attack. The last moment that would determine whether one would become a nice brunch or the other enslaved.
A vertical slash. With a vertical slash, he will slay the dragon and continue his legacy. He will, will…
FWOOM
Fa-fast! Thought the human with desperation and panic as he quickly swung down his sword. But even as he did so, he knew that he was now nothing but a piece of flesh, and a pint of blood, perfectly served for the beast. No skill could save him. No National Treasures could save him. No health potions, made by the best quality slimes, could save him. No armor could save him. He was going to die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.
That was when the impossible happened.
Space, the space, the enigma, that no human or devil has managed to solve. The major element of the universe, the unchangeable thing unless great power was used, shifted. The space twisted and turned, forming a mosaic painting that was visible to the human's eyes. The blur of red, the ashen grey, the burnt black, and the piercing yellow all became a hazy form. The human wasn't hallucinating, or was he? Has the thought of death drove him to become this distorted when visualizing objects and colors?
So what?
All the human knew was to slay the dragon and to enslave it, making him a full fledged Dragon Slayer. So what if this was an illusion of his own fear? So what if this was his distortment of his own doing? So what if he was going to die?
He chose this path because he looked up to his legacy. He chose this path for this was the only path on his road. He chose this path and he paid for it dearly, trained for it, bred for it, killed for it.
All he knew now was to step forward. To grasp the claymore in his hands, tightly. To roar out a warcry that went throughout the grey ashen graveyard of trees and the corpses of black soil that once were grass. All he knew what to do was to swing down his sword. And. Slay. The. DRAGON.
SWISH
"… Haaa… haaa…"
The dragon. The great Red Dragon, the dragon he had targeted for the last few years, now lay dead at his feet. Its gorgeous scarlet scales glittering more than ever with its red blood. Its long elegant neck, hanging limp. It's useless wings, gracefully spread out like an angel. It's red, crimson blood, pouring out of its body as a pool of blood soaked the dry, burnt soil, creating a beautiful, five shades of red, decalcomanie. He had done it. He had become a Dragon Slayer. He successfully continued his family's legacy. He—
"Wow… you really do look like Sia."
He whipped his head a hundred and eighty so fast that he almost felt his neck shatter.
"Yare yare. Put that sword down. I just want to help you out first"
"Oh yeah…?" Croaked the human. His voice was completely worn out. More than 168 hours of combat and war cries have made his throat sore and the continuous inhalation of hot air made it worse. "Why… should… I… b-believe you?"
"Why! It's because I tilted space at the last moment for you to properly get that dragon!"
His eyes widened. So… that, that was this girl's doin—wait. Girl? So indeed the mysterious human was a girl no more than seven, or probably seven, smiling and staring at him as if everything was perfectly normal. But her eyes. Her eyes were not the eyes of a child but had the eyes of who would be even older than herself. He tensed, clutching his claymore more tightly. If this bastard was going to take away his dragon, he was definitely going to lose. And if the bastard was telling the truth about bending space, then he was about to get fucked.
"What… d-d-do you… want?" Rasped the human.
"I'm here to recruit you," said the girl passionately. Recruit him? What was the girl? Was she a devil? Impossible! She had no demonic energy inside her! "Eh… but first, you really need to rest"
"L-like… I would… listen to… to youuuuu…" He unfortunately collapsed due to extreme exhaustion and before his eyelids closed all he could see was the panicking face of the girl as she yelled out in worry. Worry… heh.
And that was how he met his Queen.