Published: January 22, 2026
As I approached the black dragon, the mist—now increased to the maximum number of ten—launched attacks in various forms.
Dodging the mist’s assaults as best I could, I closed in and struck with my sword. When it tried to keep its distance, I channeled mana into the previously set technique, activating magic to maintain relentless pressure.
With the battlefield shifting to the air, the drawbacks of the amplification chain (raise repeat) became glaringly obvious.
Sure, amplification chain (raise repeat) allows me to unleash magic with significantly increased power.
However, the direction in which the magic is fired is fixed—the same as the path the previous magic took—and cannot be changed.
Furthermore, the activation timing is predetermined, making it extremely difficult to hit the highly mobile black dragon midair.
Then—
“Reflective barrier!”
Although the twice-amplified magic was easily dodged, I forcefully altered its trajectory by reflecting it with the reflective barrier.
Since the reflective barrier cannot be activated instantly, I could only manage to land one hit.
However, combined with the instantaneous ability super boost (impact), this attack inflicted considerable damage on the black dragon.
The struck part of its back was gouged out, though only partially.
After that, I erased the footing created by mana convergence, and my body fell freely under gravity.
Once I had put some distance between myself and the black dragon, I created footing again and landed.
I extended my left hand toward the black dragon’s position.
“Thunder shock!”
I activated a massive amount of thunder shock, filling the entire ceiling.
Pain shot through my head.
Too much magic use.
But I couldn’t afford to care about that now!
Since this was a closed space, the black dragon had nowhere to escape.
The thunder shock struck the black dragon directly.
However, as a basic-level magic, it caused no damage—unless amplified by amplification chain (raise repeat).
Thunder shock takes time to build up, increasing its power in two stages, dealing heavy damage to the black dragon.
As its movements slowed, I closed in while enveloping my blade with the converged jet-black aura and immediately released a jet-black slash at its abdomen.
This time, it couldn’t block the attack, which was also enhanced by the instantaneous ability super boost (impact).
Because I had gotten too close to the black dragon, the aftershock of the heavenly flash also hit me, sending me flying.
Struggling to maintain balance midair, I managed to safely land on the footing created by mana convergence.
I immediately turned my gaze toward the black dragon—its abdomen was gouged out.
It seemed the wings and tail wouldn’t be as easily destroyed, but this strike was significant.
◇ ◇ ◇
“Is this Orun’s true power? …Then what we’ve seen so far was only a fraction?”
Before my eyes was the boy who had been battling the black dragon—whom the entire first squad of silver rabbits of the night sky couldn’t defeat—holding his own and even doing better.
The sight filled me with awe.
That physical ability, the number of magics activated in parallel construction, the jet-black slashes—everything happening now defied my understanding.
If I felt this way, how much more so the other guides and the newcomers? What must they think seeing this?
Inviting Orun to this teaching expedition was a wise decision.
Without Orun, we would all have been dead by now.
Yet, at the same time, I feel this scene must not be shown to the newcomers.
This clearly demonstrates the gap in caliber between us and Orun.
How many of these newcomers will quit being explorers after witnessing this?
As if mocking the efforts of us explorers of the silver rabbits of the night sky, Orun was overwhelming the black dragon.
“You don’t need my support magic, huh.”
I had known.
Orun and I see the world differently.
Still, I spent the past month training with the image of him I saw last month as my goal.
Yet now, he shows me an even greater gap.