Chapter 2, Prologue: Birth of the One-Eyed Dragon
As long as you continue to s.h.i.+ne brightly, I will depend on your light and chase after it.
—Just like the sun and the moon.
A number of screams were ringing out throughout the desert exposed to the blazing sun.
The scene is a battlefield mixed with various emotions, where jeers, cries of agony, and the thundering of hooves can be heard.
There are a countless number of corpses scattered about the area. The cloudy eyes of the dead, which were glaring bitterly at the living, seemed like grim reapers inviting them to the other world.
Within the h.e.l.lish battlefield, there was one area which exuded a different atmosphere.
There is an open circle which almost seems to exist in a different s.p.a.ce.
In its center, stood two men squaring off against each other. In their hands, they each held their weapon of choice.
A young boy with an eyepatch and a silver sword.
A man with slightly purple skin and a large sword.
「So after coming this far, someone appears to get in my way… It seems I have no luck whatsoever.」
The man with the large sword smirked in a self-deprecating manner.
His bangs were stuck on his head with sweat. Annoyed, he brushes it up.
When he does, his previously hidden forehead appears and exposes a small, purple crystal embedded there.
In contrast, the young boy’s body is relaxed and standing naturally. He is full of openings and his manner implies that his guard is down.
But the man sensed it. He sensed the powerful fighting spirit with which the young boy was clad.
It is a vigorous spirit which one obtains through many years of battle and self devotion.
For a boy this young to exude such spirit is certainly praiseworthy.
He laughs at the fact that a warrior so fierce is so much younger than himself.
「Hehe, hahahaha… Is this what you call naturally gifted?!」
The man took his large sword, which was almost as tall as him, and swung it up as if it were a small twig.
The large sword which kicks up a cloud of dust, causes the wind to howl, then makes its way toward the young boy with the eye patch.
The young boy responds with a small motion of lifting his silver sword up.
As the blades met and gave off sparks, the large sword slid along the top of the young boy’s drawn blade.
「Ohh— Not bad!」
After being pushed aside, it looks like the man will be left wide open.
However, the man used the force of the sword’s swing and unleashed a palm strike toward the young boy with the eye patch.
It should have been in the young boy’s blindspot, but…
「That’s not a blindspot. I can see it.」
The young boy says, as he twists his body and successfully avoids it.
However, that large movement by the young boy left him open.
If his opponent were an average person, they may have rushed in to this opportune chance.
But the man realized it was a trap.
He dug his toes into the sand and swung his leg up.
A large ma.s.s of sand flew towards the young boy with the eyepatch.
As it does, the man kicks the earth below him and jumps back to create some distance. Then, he feels a strange sensation in his right arm so he looks down.
A gaping wound was split open with blood dripping down.
(Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t fall for his trap…)
As he returns his gaze, the cloud of dust which was covering the young boy’s field of view was shaken off with a flash.
The sweat slipping off the man’s forehead travels down his cheeks. After he lifts his shoulders and wipes it off, the corners of his mouth turn up.
「I admire you, even though you’re an enemy. It makes me wonder how it is that you’ve reached such lofty heights of martial arts at such a young age. But I can’t just stand here in admiration. I have to change the flow of this battle.」
Their gazes cross.
They try to read one, two moves ahead. The one who successfully reads their opponent’s next move will be the victor.
And so, they cannot make any careless movements. A nervous wreck, the man focuses only on taking the initiative.
He trembles with excitement— His body shakes in utter delight. Deep down, he’s welling up with joy.
He’s enjoying this life or death battle so much that he can’t contain himself.
「Why don’t we battle this out until one of us dies— right, 「one-eyed dragon」?! The last man standing is the victor! Nice and simple, right?」
The man’s dry lips split into a crescent shape. As he twisted his body and readied his sword, a cloud of dust surrounded the tip of his sword.
「That’s fine with me.」
Again, the young boy raised his right arm to chest height, held his silver sword horizontally, and pointed it at the man.
