Lord of Caldera - Chapter 187

Chapter 187: Chapter 187

A surge of energy pulled from the sword, causing it to cry out. It felt similar to the essence-draining effect of the holy priestess’s magic but different—Sylas was drawing directly from the core of the sword’s power, wielding it as his own. The blade quivered in disbelief, but it had no choice but to submit.

“Now, let’s have some fun!”

Hisss! Hissss!

Grinning, Sylas raised his sword in anticipation, and the Hydra let out a horrified screech.

How much time had passed?

The Hydra was in a state of utter ruin. Of its nine heads, only one remained, the others severed and lying scattered across the bloodstained ground. Its body was covered in deep, smoldering wounds where the sword’s blue flames continued to sear it. The relentless agony left it barely capable of twitching.

“Disappointing,” Sylas remarked, staring down at the Hydra with a look of indifference. The lone remaining head tried feebly to crawl away, but the massive body was too cumbersome to escape with a single head.

“Enough. Time to die.”

Shrrriek!

With a final wail, the last head fell to the ground, severed cleanly. The Hydra’s massive body twitched once more before falling still, utterly lifeless.

Sylas took a deep breath, smiling as he surveyed the corpse. Slaying this subspecies of dragon hadn’t given him much satisfaction, yet the sight of its death was gratifying. In these moments, he felt a sense of fulfillment—a satisfaction rooted in something deeper, something connected to… his mother?

“Ugh!”

Suddenly, a splitting headache tore through him, as if his skull was being crushed. His stomach churned, his entire body ached, and his vision blurred, making him nauseous.

“Ugh…!”

Unable to hold back, Sylas heaved, vomiting onto the ground. The sickness subsided somewhat after that, but his body still felt painfully strained.

“Damn… everything’s spinning.”

Not only his head; his entire body felt like it was being wracked with muscle aches. Leaning against a nearby rock for support, he forced himself to recall what he had just experienced.

What the hell was that?

He chuckled bitterly, shaken by the memory. He hadn’t been possessed by Leonik himself, but he had felt the ancient warrior’s memories, emotions, and experiences surge through him. It was as if he had temporarily merged with the essence of his legendary ancestor.

It must have been some sort of temporary assimilation.

Sylas, with his mere decades of life, was nothing compared to Leonik, who had lived over a hundred years driven by fury and resolve. It wasn’t surprising he had been momentarily overwhelmed by such intense memories.

“At least I learned something useful.”

A brutal but effective education, forced directly into his mind. While it came with side effects, the experience had taught him how to wield his newfound strength. With trembling arms, still feeling the aftershocks of muscle pain, he lifted his sword.

My master…?

“What do you want?”

N-nothing…! the enchanted sword replied, its blade shuddering. It was as if the sword had glimpsed some unspeakable power that could have wielded it. Sylas ignored its trembling and gave the sword a quick swing.

Slash!

The tree in front of him split cleanly in two. Sylas hadn’t even adopted a stance or applied any strength. He simply understood the “technique” and how to use it effectively. Few warriors in the world would be able to withstand such skill.

So this is what real power feels like.

Sylas now understood why villains craved more and more power—it was intoxicating. Even a taste of this strength could lead to addiction.

“Alright, then.”

Using the sword as a makeshift cane, he pushed himself to his feet. The Hydra’s body lay torn to pieces, with its nine severed heads scattered around him.

“Hauling this back is going to be a pain.”

With each head being much larger than those of typical dragons, it would be an ordeal, but giving up was not an option. The nine heads would serve as undeniable proof of his victory, a trophy that would solidify his achievement for all to see.

…Though I might need a little rest first.

His legs gave out, and he sank back to the ground. He had used up too much energy, and even moving now would require a brief nap. With the scent of a top predator lingering around, he doubted any monster would dare approach. Handing the sword the task of keeping him warm, Sylas closed his eyes and drifted into a deep, well-earned sleep.

“It’s certainly taking a long time for them to return this time,” the Marquis murmured, gazing out over the snowy expanse from the campsite. More than a month had passed since the candidates had set out, yet not a single one had returned.

One of the nobles muttered anxiously, “Could it be that something terrible has happened to them all…?”

“Nonsense,” the Marquis snapped, fixing the noble with a sharp glare. The noble flinched but didn’t fall silent.

“But… considering the time it would take to reach their targets and come back, shouldn’t they have returned by now?”

“Do you think this is some simple boar hunt? We’re talking about dragon hunting!”

The Marquis’s voice rose, irritated by what he deemed a lack of basic understanding from someone supposedly of the same faction. “There’s no telling how long it might take to track and plan the optimal moment to strike. And that’s assuming they don’t run out of provisions or get lost in the snowfields.”

Rushing into battle with a dragon was a sure way to die. Anyone with any sense would spend time strategizing, ensuring they had the best chance to confront their quarry. It might take days just to wait for the “right moment.” A trial like this, where their lives were constantly on the line, demanded patience.

“Even if one of them managed to slay a dragon, do you think they’d return immediately? They’d need time to recover if they were injured, not to mention finding a way to bring back suitable proof of their kill.”

This trial was filled with too many unknowns, making it impossible to calculate based on time and distance alone. In some cases, it could easily take three months rather than one.