Bayle the Dread

At last, they reached the summit of Jagged Peak.

It was an enormous, relatively level platform, as though some invisible force had sheared it flat.

Fierce winds howled, churning the thick clouds.

The sight was staggering: a colossal dragon descended from the sky.

Bayle was slightly smaller than Senessax, but the pressure he exerted was even greater.

He should have been a majestic, powerful dragon, yet now he looked wretched and maddened.

His left leg had been torn off at the root. The wound was a bloody mess, with broken bone faintly visible, clearly ripped away by some even more terrifying force.

His wings were an even more dreadful sight. Where tough membranes and magnificent scales should have covered them, only wing bones like withered branches remained, jutting grotesquely from either side of his body, long since stripped of the ability to fly.

Most shocking of all was his neck-the head of another majestic dragon, together with a long stretch of neck, was clamped onto Bayle's throat, its teeth sunk deep into his flesh like a curse that would not end even in death.

It was Dragon Lord Placidusax's severed head, still biting tightly into the rebel even in death.

Yet despite such grievous injuries, the aura emanating from Bayle remained savage and dangerous.

His scales were a dull copper-red, their edges glinting with an ominous orange-red light. What he exhaled was not ordinary dragon breath, but a strange breath mingled with tiny orange lightning bolts and searing flames-Flame Lightning.

Pain and madness burned in his draconic eyes.

Countless flowers, red as fresh blood, lay scattered across the platform.

They were dragonheat flowers, each representing a Dragon Communion warrior who had ultimately fallen beneath Bayle's fangs and claws.

Their lives, their desires, their strength-all had finally become nothing more than that single red flower blooming over their hearts.

Around Bayle, the dragonheat flowers had almost formed a crimson sea, silently telling of how many souls this place had devoured.

"That's him." Hoarah Loux's voice grew low, but held an even fiercer thirst for battle.

He saw Bayle's wretched condition, but rather than looking down on him, he grew even more excited.

Now this was an opponent worth fighting with everything he had!

Horace Loux signaled for the guards to stop, then took several crude clay pots from his pack.

"Put this on before we fight." He opened a pot, revealing a thick, dark red grease.

"I found it on those dead Dragon Communion warriors. They used it against dragons. It should increase the damage."

The guards asked no further questions and quickly smeared the grease over their weapon edges.

Hoarah Loux took a pot as well, carefully coating the edge of his greataxe and even spreading a layer across its face.

The instant they finished preparing, Bayle the Dread seemed to sense that the threat had drawn close enough. He abruptly raised his head, still caught in that unyielding bite, and unleashed a savage roar at the intruders!

Orange-red Flame Lightning gathered in his mouth, illuminating his hideous face and burning slit pupils.

"Here he comes!" Hoarah Loux laughed wildly. Before Bayle could fully unleash his breath, he charged like a cannonball fired from its barrel!

His greataxe dragged behind him, scraping a trail of sparks across the ground.

Bayle's Flame Lightning breath surged out immediately afterward, a torrent of fire threaded with darting orange lightning that instantly warped the air.

Hoarah Loux did not dodge-or rather, he chose a more aggressive approach. He stamped hard on the ground and let out a savage war cry. A visible shock wave surged forward, briefly holding back the leading edge of the oncoming Flame Lightning and buying him an instant.

He seized that opening to rush through the hottest area. Though his hair and the edges of his leather armor instantly curled and charred, and burning pain seared his skin, he had already closed in on Bayle. His greataxe flashed coldly beneath its coating of dragon grease as he hacked viciously at Bayle's only intact forelimb!

Clang!

This time, the axe blade broke through Bayle's scales and bit into his flesh!

Bayle roared in pain and violently swept his broken wing bones at Hoarah Loux.

Hoarah Loux pulled back his axe to block, but the tremendous force sent him staggering backward.

The battle instantly reached a fever pitch.

Though crippled, Bayle attacked with even greater frenzy. He pushed the power of Flame Lightning to its limits:

His Flame Lightning breath sometimes spread in a fan, sometimes condensed into balls to bombard from afar, and sometimes coiled around the blades of his wing bones as he swung them.

He could even briefly gather Flame Lightning over his broken wing bones, forming orange-red lightning wings that supported ferocious short-range lunges and dives of astonishing speed and crushing force.

Hoarah Loux, meanwhile, fought like a madman.

He held nothing back, displaying the barbarian king's strength to the fullest.

His greataxe whirled into a vortex of death, colliding furiously with Bayle's claws, wing bones, and hammering tail.

The shock waves from his stomps disrupted Bayle's movements, and his war cries briefly scattered the incoming Flame Lightning.

He abandoned defense entirely, meeting attack with attack and trading wound for wound.

Bayle's Flame Lightning left broad patches of blackened flesh and burns across him, and claws tore his flesh open. Yet he seemed unable to feel pain. Every injury only made him more savage, his attacks more ferocious.

The battle grew so intense that others could scarcely intervene.

The few remaining guards tried to provide ranged support with greased arrows and throwing spears, but the intense heat surrounding Bayle and the intermittent bursts of lightning stopped most of their attacks. When they occasionally drew close, the shock waves from the clash drove them back.

Horace Loux did not immediately join the frontal battle. He moved swiftly around its edges, eyes fixed on Bayle's movements as he searched for an opening.

He was waiting-waiting for a chance to make a single strike count.

At the same time, he watched the shadows. Maliketh had yet to appear, but he knew the shadow beast was there.

The battle continued for an unknown length of time, leaving the platform devastated by Flame Lightning and Hoarah Loux's feats in combat.

Hoarah Loux's breathing grew labored. Almost no skin on his body remained uninjured, but his eyes still shone, his fighting spirit blazing.

Bayle was covered in wounds as well. The injuries inflicted by the dragon-grease-coated greataxe resisted healing and bled without stopping. His Flame Lightning breath was also growing weaker and less frequent.

Just as Bayle paused briefly from exhaustion after a diving breath attack, Hoarah Loux seized his chance. With another explosive war cry, he charged in and swung his greataxe viciously at Bayle's neck, just below where the Dragon Lord's head had fastened its jaws!

If the blow landed solidly, it might grievously wound Bayle or even finish him.

But a trace of mad cunning flashed through Bayle's eyes.

Orange-red lightning suddenly flared over his remaining wing bones—not to attack Hoarah Loux, but to slam savagely into the ground!

Boom!

The violent explosion and its recoil thrust Bayle's enormous body sideways, allowing him to evade Hoarah Loux's lethal axe by the narrowest margin.

At the same time, he used that force to twist his body. His thick, intact tail swept in like a battering ram from an unexpected angle, striking Hoarah Loux squarely in the side!

"Urgh!" Hoarah Loux jolted as though struck by lightning and spat out a great mouthful of blood, his powerful body hurled into the air.

"Big brother!" Horace Loux's pupils abruptly contracted.

At that critical instant, a black shape shot like a phantom from the shadow beneath Hoarah Loux!

It was Maliketh. The shadow beast reached out with one clawed hand and caught Hoarah Loux precisely by the arm, holding a black greatsword in his other hand.

That black blade, which would one day seal Destined Death, slashed viciously into the base of Bayle's sweeping tail as it followed up the attack!

Bayle let out an utterly piercing shriek as a short section of his tail was severed at its base.

Maliketh retreated after that single blow, flinging Hoarah Loux back to a safe area of the platform before melting into the shadows again, as though he had never appeared.

But the horrific wound from that sword strike plunged Bayle into unprecedented pain and weakness, throwing his movements completely out of shape.

An opening!

A sharp gleam burst from Horace Loux's eyes. He hesitated no longer.

He drew a deep breath. To obtain enough power to decide the battle in an instant, he disregarded comfort and activated more than ten Great Runes at once!

[Abandon defense]-in exchange for increased attack power.

[Lose sight in the left eye]-in exchange for weak-point strikes. (Execution multiplier)

More than ten Great Runes took effect at once, bringing not only a wild surge in strength but also a crushing weight upon his soul, like mountains collapsing and tidal waves crashing down!

Agony struck as though countless red-hot steel needles had pierced his brain and the depths of his soul at once. His vision instantly turned blood-red, his ears rang without end, and every inch of muscle, bone, and blood vessel groaned beneath the unbearable burden, as though his entire body might disintegrate in the next second.

Drawing on the effects of the Great Runes, Horace Loux forcibly suppressed pain that could have driven someone to instant collapse.

The next moment, he moved.

The rock beneath his feet exploded. His figure vanished from the spot, leaving only a blurred afterimage and a piercing sonic boom.

He gripped the pair of dragon-grease-coated longswords tightly in both hands. Fine cracks had already appeared along their blades.

Every last bit of his strength poured into this single strike.

Bayle was twisting and rolling in agony over his severed tail. Beneath his neck, the edge of the wound held in the Dragon Lord's unrelenting jaws tore open again with his violent movements. It was his most vulnerable spot at that moment!

Like a meteor streaking against its course, Horace Loux passed precisely through the gaps between the wing bones Bayle flailed unconsciously in pain. Ignoring the lingering, scorching aftermath of Flame Lightning around him, he thrust savagely into that exposed opening!

Both swords sank to their hilts, splashing dragon blood.

Bayle let out the final roar of his life.

His enormous body convulsed violently, then abruptly stiffened. The mad fire in his draconic eyes gradually dimmed.

Horace Loux released the sword hilts the moment they sank in, using the momentum to fly backward.

Almost at the same time Bayle stopped struggling, the dozen or so overlapping Great Runes deep within his soul receded instantly like a tide.

"Aaagh!"

The instant the Great Runes were released, the temporarily suppressed pain overwhelmed his consciousness like a flood bursting through a dam.

His vision went black. He plunged straight from midair and slammed heavily onto the hard rock.

This was the price of abusing the Great Runes.

Had he not been the system's core, possessing the privilege to release them at any time, the backlash from violating even one Great Rune would have doomed him beyond recovery.

But even so, bearing and then shedding such an immense burden within so short a time dealt an extremely severe shock to his soul.

Amid shrill ringing in his ears and agony that felt as though his entire body had fallen apart, Horace Loux barely recovered a sliver of consciousness.

He struggled to open his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he saw Hoarah Loux staggering toward him. Though covered in wounds, his side a bloody mess, his life was not in danger.

The guards gathered around Bayle's enormous corpse, their faces filled with the shock and wild joy of having survived.

"Hesa!" Hoarah Loux's voice was somewhat hoarse and full of concern.

"How are you?"

"Not... dying yet." Horace Loux forced out the words, his voice frighteningly dry and raspy.

"The heart... dig it out... and that earlier Flying Dragon's... don't waste them..." he reminded them haltingly.

Hoarah Loux nodded and signaled for the guards to do as he said.

With the help of their dragon-grease-coated weapons, they exerted tremendous effort before finally digging a strange, dark red heart from Bayle's chest, still faintly beating.

Unlike Senessax's, it was not entirely stone. It seemed more like a strange fusion of stone and fleshly energy, containing savage Flame Lightning power.

They also removed the earlier Flying Dragon's heart. It was comparatively small, and its energy much gentler.

With a guard's support, Horace Loux barely managed to sit up. Looking at Bayle's heart, he felt somewhat reassured.

One of the expedition's chief objectives had been achieved.

Only after resting much longer and tending to all the wounded did the party drag their exhausted bodies back along the route they had taken, slowly withdrawing down the mountain.

By the time they finally returned to the Dragon Communion Altar, it was deep into the night.

The official English translation of "Elden Lord" is "Elden Lord."

In English, "Lord" leans more toward "sovereign" or "feudal lord." Unlike "King," it does not emphasize independent, supreme royal authority.

Using the British power structure as a reference, Godfrey's "Golden Archduke" is his actual noble rank, while Elden Lord is a title.

Like Britain's Duke of Cornwall, the Golden Archduke holds a distinctive, special political status.

However, this does not mean the Elden Lord is the ruler. The true ruler of the Lands Between is the god, and the Elden Lord is the god's consort, obtaining governing authority through that relationship.

In practical terms, then, the Elden Lord is equivalent to a regent, or even lower in status. After all, a regent who can be exiled at will is certainly rare.

Using a theocratic system as a reference, the god is the first ruler, and the Elden Lord is the second.

Their relationship is one in which the god reigns but does not govern, while the lord governs but does not reign.

Things are different in the Tarnished's time. The god could already be called dead, yet still retains the status of ruler.

Apart from the ending of Ranni's questline, all the other endings leave the god without the ability to intervene in governance, and the lord becomes the actual ruler.