Chapter Sixteen: Gathering Strength! The Fatal Combo Strike!

He still remembered the information—or rather, the advice—given by the elder dual-blade wielder known as the Desert Fin: the sand dragon’s weak points lay in its neck, belly, and back.

As a light weapon, the shortsword’s destructive power was relatively weak. To deal effective damage to a creature as large as a sand dragon—or even larger monsters—one had to strike precisely at its vulnerabilities.

Attacking the back was too high up; unless the opponent fell, it was difficult to land a clean hit. The belly, though soft in flesh, was protected by ribs and a layer of fat. With the length of a hunter’s dagger, it was not easy to reach the internal organs directly.

Therefore, he fixed his target on the sand dragon’s neck.

Oran quickened his pace, using his smaller size and speed to circle around to the right side of the sand dragon’s neck.

The sand dragon, a creature honed by natural selection and thriving—even overrunning—in the harsh desert, naturally did not have any glaringly obvious weak spots.

As if sensing the hunter’s intent, its broad, flat triangular head rotated along with him, blocking most of Oran’s angles of attack.

Oran did not give up. As the sand dragon’s neck twisted nearly ninety degrees, its webbed, finned feet began to shift, turning its body in the direction Oran was maneuvering.

Suddenly, Oran stopped and doubled back, charging straight toward the left side of the sand dragon’s neck—now completely exposed beyond the protection of its triangular head.

Caught off guard, the sand dragon blinked as Oran closed the distance.

With a swift lunge, Oran slashed his blade, leaving a bloody gash on the left side of the sand dragon’s neck.

The sand dragon struck back immediately. Twisting its flexible cervical vertebrae, the triangular head swept horizontally like a spade toward him.

Had it connected, the impact could have thrown him flying, broken some bones, or even rendered him unable to continue fighting on the spot—though it probably wouldn’t have severed him in half.

Fortunately, Oran was prepared. Just before the head swung through, he raised his arm shield, stepped back with a jump, narrowly evading the blow.

The rough skin of the sand dragon scraped his shield, leaving a rasping scratch like a file.

Without hesitation, Oran’s legs, landing from the backward step, sprung like coiled springs. Harnessing the momentum, he tightened his tendons and lunged forward once more.

Now was the moment!

The sand dragon’s sweeping head motion almost brought its right neck squarely in front of Oran’s blade. Seizing this fleeting opening, Oran swung his sword a second time.

Leaping forward for the strike!

The timing was perfect, and combined with the force of his forward leap, this slash cut far deeper than the previous one.

The blade sliced through scales and muscle, even striking something hard—the sensation of briefly touching the sand dragon’s cervical bone.

A harrowing shriek erupted from the sand dragon as it staggered back half a step.

By Oran’s usual habit, this would be the moment to press the attack immediately. Yet, influenced by the strange rhythm of the prior exchange, he did not strike right away. Instead, he pulled his arm back, tightened his core, and began to gather strength.

In theory, these were two entirely different techniques: the heavy sword’s charged slash and the shortsword’s so-called charge, which was more about controlling rhythm.

But in this instant, under Oran’s unconscious coordination, he had woven the heavy sword’s full-body power-gathering technique into his move.

Because the shortsword was light and small, it was difficult to fully “hold down” this force. Within just a second, he felt the power threatening to escape his control.

“Haah!”

With a low shout, he unleashed his attack.

The first strike was not from the sword in his left hand but from the shield on his right arm.

The shield’s face smashed like a hammer into the sand dragon’s snout, knocking its head to the side. Following immediately was the charged slash from his left-hand sword.

Though the shortsword was known for its agility, Oran’s strike felt heavy and forceful. The blade nearly severed the sand dragon’s spade-shaped sensory organ on the side of its head.

The assault was not over.

As his waist twisted, the blade swung back in a reverse cut, while the shield on his right arm followed the sword’s momentum, delivering a rising uppercut-like blow beneath the sand dragon’s jaw, forcing its head to tilt back.

The throat was now fully exposed before Oran’s eyes.

Without any hesitation, the final horizontal slash swept across the sand dragon’s neck.

A torrent of blood gushed forth, draining the last of the creature’s strength. It could no longer even emit a wail as its massive body, comparable to that of a herbivorous dinosaur, collapsed to the ground.

A deadly combo!

Oran adjusted his breathing, the battle now over.

This was his first time successfully executing a full deadly combo in actual combat—one that even incorporated a bit of the heavy sword’s charge technique, elevating the combo’s power to a new level.

The seamless flow felt utterly strange and exhilarating.

“Boom—boom—boom!”

On the other side, accompanied by the thunderous roar unique to the Dragon Strike Cannon, another sand dragon, its chest scorched with a large, blackened hole, also fell.

Oran instinctively turned to look. Nuri and Asa stared blankly in this direction as well.

From when the three had launched their assault until now, less than half a minute had passed.

To support Oran as quickly as possible, Nuri and Asa had thrown everything they had into the fight. They had believed themselves fast enough, with Nuri even using the recently cooled-down Dragon Strike Cannon.

Yet none of them had expected that Oran, wielding nothing more than an ordinary shortsword, would finish his fight several seconds faster than the two of them combined with their heavy weapons.

“This is fucking ridiculous!” After a brief moment of shock, Asa blurted out, “How the hell did you do that? Are you telling me that hunter’s dagger is actually some high-grade weapon disguised as a hunter’s dagger?”

Even though they had already confirmed that Oran’s weapon was the most basic, ordinary mineral shortsword, they couldn’t help but doubt their own eyes at that moment.

“Luck,” Oran said, shaking the blood off his blade and sheathing it.

He was not being modest. In truth, the ability to pull off that deadly combo, especially the charged-enhanced version, was largely due to luck and coincidence.

Under normal circumstances, he could never have killed a sand dragon in one combo.

Thinking this over, he drew his weapon again and practiced the motions back and forth, trying to imprint that sensation in his mind and body while it still lingered.

If he could master this move, it might become his “finisher” for a considerable time to come.

“Damn, and you even packed it up so fast!” Asa folded his heavy crossbow and strode over, laughing and cursing.

The more composed and experienced Nuri’s gaze lingered on the sand dragon corpse before Oran for a good long while.

There were only four or five wounds in total, all concentrated on the neck and head—none of them ineffective; every cut struck deeply at vital points.

This was not something that mere “luck” could explain, at least not in his eyes.

Glancing at Oran, who was bowed in thought, Nuri felt an inexplicable premonition stir within him.

This youngest recruit of the guerrilla unit was destined to become a remarkable figure someday...

Pulling his chuckling younger brother aside, Nuri whispered, “Don’t disturb him. Oran’s probably gleaned something important from that fight.

“Seaberry, take the high ground and keep watch. The two of us will hurry and carve this one up.”

“Got it!”

By the time Oran snapped out of his reverie, Nuri and the others had almost finished carving the carcass.

He hurried over to help. “Sorry...”

“No problem,” Nuri waved him off. “It’s a good thing to have realizations during battle. How do you feel?”

Oran pondered, “It’s hard to say. If possible, could you leave the last sand dragon for me to deal with?”

“Sure.”