Chapter 138 : Chapter 138

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 138 – Flight (2)

The Sky Mountains were a labyrinth. Even veteran rangers lost their way, and the Mana rich land made every living creature enormous and strong.

Wriggling caterpillars grew as big as boars; the “ordinary” beasts here rivaled northern monsters in size.

Plants were no exception—fruits that exploded like bombs, vines that devoured animals, flowers that exhaled toxins potent enough to melt steel.

It was no wonder the Sky Mountains were called one of the continent’s great mysteries—a forbidden zone.

No map could chart them.

The terrain shifted with eerie regularity, and unexplainable disasters were common.

Explorers often said: “The Sky Mountains live.” And those who dreamt of climbing them whispered: “You can only ascend if the mountain allows it.”

All of it was true. Even after inheriting the memories of the old adventurer sealed within 「Flight」, I felt no arrogance that I could conquer this range alone. If anything, I felt reverence. But the lower slopes? Those, I could navigate blindfolded.

I lifted my head slowly.

“Uhh… GRAAAHH!”

The young dragon was writhing in agony, staring dumbly at the stump where its left hand had been.

The severed limb lay on the ground, and from the open wound poured a gleaming, white dragon’s blood—something so pure it looked more divine than mortal.

“S–Stop. Enough.”

When I stepped toward it, sword in hand, the young dragon staggered back. The sight was almost comical— the mighty “ruler of the heavens” recoiling from a mere human.

“T–That’s far enough! Stop there! Your swordplay… I won’t hold it against you. I’ll forgive you! So just stop and leave! Take your pathetic companions and go back across the Cloud Bridge—you may even use it freely!”

He spoke as if granting me mercy. Still trembling, still terrified— yet somehow clinging to his pride.

Truly, what a noble race.

“You talk like you’re doing me a favor.”

I didn’t bother speaking respectfully.

“Moments ago, you acted like a king. Now you finally realize your place? But even stripped of your arrogance, you still haven’t learned humility. Forgive? Overlook? Those are privileges of the living, aren’t they?”

“Human… what are you—”

“With one strike I pierced your scales. With the second, I cut off your hand. If I keep swinging, don’t you think I could take your life too? And that would suit me fine. I’d no longer fear a dragon’s revenge, I’d claim a priceless dragon corpse, and I’d be known as the man who slew a dragon with nothing but a sword.”

“Y–You must not—”

“Why not?”

“Because I… I am a dragon!”

That proud cry only made me exhale slowly. Then I dropped all pretense.

“So what?”

And my anger finally surfaced.

“Listen well, young dragon. I despise creatures like you.”

A calm, terrible honesty.

“You believe your strength makes you righteous. You trample on the dignity of others because you can. You judge the world by your own power, destroy lives as naturally as breathing, spread injustice you can’t even comprehend—simply because you can.”

“……”

“Forgiveness? Don’t make me laugh. If my blade hadn’t reached you, would you have spared us? Of course not. You would’ve toyed with us, mocked us, crushed us underfoot. You would’ve made us feel helpless, humiliated, broken. Because that’s what your kind does.”

The anger burned hot. It wasn’t just mine—it was Carlos’s cruelty, the trauma of the Swordmaster, mingled with the hatred within 「Flight’s」 memory.

My fury was that of both the present and a distant past.

“Because all dragons are like that.”

The rage wasn’t only in words. Twin Wings of light flared from my back, and the air itself trembled with killing intent. Sensing it, the dragon spread his jaws, swelling his chest with air.

Even I, a backcountry swordsman from the Iron Kingdom, knew what that meant—the dragons’ ultimate weapon.

「The Breath comes, young descendant.」

Breath. At that word, the Mana around me convulsed. Every instinct screamed danger.

And then—

『Why is it a sin to reach for the sky?』

A voice echoed from the sword.

『There were too many things I could not understand.』

『Because I could not accept them, I had to ask.』

『Ask the heavens themselves.』

As the Breath rushed toward me, the sword’s memory surged once more—like a tidal wave.

***

My son had longed for the sky. He yearned for the light, for the heights—and so he wished to fly. But the young man who fell from the heavens now lay trapped in a husk, fading away.

That faded boy, rotting slowly inside his own body, clutched my hand.

Together, we dreamed again of the sky. In those adventures with my broken son, I too felt alive again.

But—

“Wingless ones, how dare you covet the heavens?”

The time had come to wake from the dream.

“I cannot overlook your blasphemy.”

It was the lords of the heavens—the dragons—who shattered my son’s dream. The exalted ones who could not bear to see wingless mortals ascend. And so they turned him into a display— a warning to all who might climb.

Yet those same “great” dragons watched as we climbed again— saw my broken son, who would not yield. Still yearning, still dreaming of flight. And they could not allow it.

We met again near the summit. My son saw the dragon who had destroyed him— and though I expected fury in his eyes, what I saw was light. Even broken, he still longed for the heavens. He still wanted to shine, to soar.

The dragon saw that longing too.

“Creatures born in the mud, do you wish to embrace the infinite sky? To shine with the brightest stars and the blazing sun?”

From those words came cruel temptation.

“Make wings like your fragile, worthless bodies. Fly once around the Sky Mountains. If you succeed, I will grant you the sky itself. I will acknowledge human flight.”

It was mockery—an impossible task. Even griffins and wyverns couldn’t circle these mountains. And my son, who couldn’t even walk—how could he fly?

“If you fear death, say so. Swear never to return, and I’ll spare your life.”

But my son did not refuse.

He trembled, scrawling letters against my back with his fingers. I could read them now. I want to fly. I want to fly, Father.

I couldn’t deny him. My poor moth—wings torn, yet still drawn to the light.

There was only one thing a father could do.

“…Very well.”

Then fly. Burn. Shine brighter than any star.

“Uhh… uh…”

I made wings of wax. With wrinkled hands, I crafted them carefully. I fastened them to my son’s back, and his ruined face glowed with childlike wonder. Under the starlit sky, standing at the cliff’s edge, he looked— for just a moment—like he was smiling. Just as he had when he was small, babbling about his dreams.

“Then fly, my son. Fly high.”

And he did. To everyone’s shock—even the dragon’s—he soared. With those fragile wax wings, he rose, cutting through the fierce winds. His flight was magnificent— more beautiful than any dragon’s.

He was a bird, a star, a flame.

His flight was art. The world vanished; there was only sky and son. In that perfect silence, time stopped. He completed the circle, returning with a bright smile— the same smile from his youth, from the day he first called me “Father.”

And then—

“…Ah.”

As he descended, the dragon exhaled its breath. The wings that had finally carried him were consumed by fire. The Icarus who had regained his light… fell once more. The Breath spared his flesh but burned his wings. He crashed against the cliff and shattered—completely this time.

“Such a pity.”

“……”

“You understand, don’t you? The sky belongs to dragons. To conquer the heavens is to conquer us—and no human can. He was unworthy. The sky rejected him.”

Ah…

I held my dead son in my arms. And I looked up— at the hateful sky that had taken him from me. At the dragons who ruled it.

“Why do you look at the heavens that way?”

Was it truly so hard to grant us a sliver of your sky? Was a spark of brilliance too much to share? My son, who only admired you— was this the price of his dream?

So many questions burned in my throat. My son no longer breathed. His soul had flown far away— perhaps up, perhaps down. But as the father left behind, I asked the only question that mattered—

“Do you know… the genius who became a specimen?”

The dragon did not answer. It merely pushed me with one enormous claw. My frail body fell from the cliff. As gravity pulled me down, I held my son’s corpse close. The scent of death filled my lungs. Above, the dragon watched with bored eyes— like a child tired of a broken toy.

“Nonsense.”

Down I fell, bones breaking, limbs shattering. The sky grew distant. All that remained were the melted wax wings, the thin arms, the lifeless eyes of my son— and that impossibly blue sky.

“…Ah.”

The world blurred. Death drew near. Would I die here, following my son? I did not close my eyes. Through the cliffs and foliage, I could still see the highest sky— the one he had so longed for.And though I wondered how I still lived, the answer came easily. Because the sky still existed above me.

“…Wings.”

Because the dream had not yet ended.

“Grow again, wings. Rise again.”

I seized the melted wax and bound it to my broken body. With trembling hands, I grabbed a rocky ledge, hauling myself upward. Toward the sky.

“Let’s fly—just once more.”

To touch the sky, there was only one thing left to do—“Just once more, my son.”

Upward. Higher.

***

Geniuses find answers where none seem to exist. They overcome the impossible, record wonders in history, and earn the world’s praise. But there are others—those greater still.

「You’ve caught the light.」

Those who cannot find the perfect answer, yet refuse to give up. Those who continue forward, even crippled and bleeding— Heroes. Those who find hope inside the impossible.

「Yes. That’s it.」

And what they achieve, people call—

「A legend.」

Legend.

“Haa—!”

Even at the brink of despair, the sword’s memory didn’t end. It reached beyond death— for the tale of the old adventurer wasn’t a tragedy. It was the beginning.

“Dragon—!”

Trial. Loss.

The cruelty of the world.

It was a simple story— but the kind from which all epics are born.

“For I—”

That was why humanity gave such stories a name—

“—will not break!”

An Epic of Heroes.

“No one—”

Flight did not hold the chronicles of a retired ranger’s final adventure, nor a travelogue of wondrous mysteries.

“No one will ever make me fall again!”

It carried the life of one man who had dared to rise against an unfair world.

The story of a frail human who sought to soar from the lowest depths.

The legend of one old, foolish man—

“──!”

I roared, like a beast, releasing every emotion within me. The sword gave me not just memory, but power. Red light burst forth, blazing like the stars. The heavens themselves turned crimson.

The young dragon’s devastating Breath curved away, bent along the path I had drawn with my blade.

『Truths as truths, misunderstandings as misunderstandings—』

A small flame met a greater one, and devoured it whole.

『Just keep limping forward through the world. That is enough.』