Chapter 59 The groans of the Groaning Marsh

59 The groans of the Groaning Marsh

The blood blade hit the already wounded dragon, leaving another long slash on its thick hide before dissipating. Too bad it wasn't powerful enough to sewer the dragon's neck like Cael tried. After a moment of shock, the dragon rose to its feet and crawled forward with its jaws bared in a snarl.

But Cael didn't have the concentration to finish him, or do anything else but to try to keep all his adversaries within his field of view. All his focus was on the spell he was making—it wasn't the easiest one, and Cael didn't have a lot of practice with it before.

A second circle spell, Breath of Winter, formed in Cael's lungs, filling them with icy pinpricks. To think

—only a couple weeks ago, Cael would have trouble gathering enough mana to cast it at all, while now this spell made only a slight dent in his mana pool. He really was a third rank mage now, even if his arsenal of third rank spells was low.

And THOSE really would've depleted his mana pool.

While he read the spell, the dragons swam closer and rose above the water's surface. They circled Cael like wolves, more of groaning calls coming out of their throats as they communicated with each other.

They were searching for an opening for an attack. Waiting... until their patience was over.

But thankfully, so was Cael's spell. n-/O).v(/e.-l)(B))1)(n

"<Winter's wrath, lend me your fierce frost. Let the icy gale consume all who oppose me and bury them under everlasting snow!>"

As soon as he finished the last words, he took a deep breath. When he let it out a moment later, it came as a cone of blizzard that came straight from the chillest winter. Wind carried both cold and snow, and with enough force to send men sprawling.

It sent the dragons flying a meter away, and there they became caught by the layer of fresh ice that the surrounding them marsh turned into. They were still alive under the crust—divided by three, the spell wasn't lethal enough—but from their weak movements Cael knew swamp dragons became as sluggish from the cold as normal lizards.

The spell ended sooner than Cael's breath, but it lasted long enough for him to catch all three. Next part was straightforward.

First, he ended the already wounded dragon with Greater Exsanguination, then used part of the blood gathered in his free hand to create a Blood Blade. Since his target was in sight an immobile, the first attack of the blade slashed open the creature's hide, and the second cut off its neck. Then Cael poured more mana into the blade and set it flying at the last of the dragons.

The first attack hit—but then, with a roar of pain, the dragon broke free of its icy prison and jumped at Cael in a mad, desperate attack.

Its wings, too small to let the creature fly, beat with loud claps, extending the dragon's jump enough to cover four meters that separated him from Cael.

For a moment, the world froze in time. Cael stood still, the globe of unconsumed blood in one hand, the rapier in the other. The dragon hovered in the air right in front of him, about to fall down and bite off Cael's face. Too close to read a spell.

Cael could've stepped aside, but he already walked through too many puddles.

He just raised his rapier towards the dragon's throat instead.

Steel, solid and true, sank into the thick scaly hide like a hot knife into butter. The dragon gurgled, its limbs flailing in throes of death, and was about to fall down on Cael.

He turned his body and his blade. Using the inertia of the dragon's movement, Cael threw its body over himself and into the water. It splashed loudly, sending droplets of slimy water all over Cael, anyway.

With a grimace, Cael pulled the rapier out of the sinking body and wiped his mouth with a cleaner of his sleeves. 'So much for an attempt to not get any more wet.'

He heard more groans in the distance, and they were closer now than they were before. And while that was a great opportunity to hunt all the dragons around... The sheer amount of them was too alarming.

'It feels like dozens. I don't want to find out if I can beat a dozen or two of dragons at once...'

With that thought in mind, Cael quickly gathered the blood of the fallen dragons and picked up his walking stick. It was time to get out of there!

Except, getting ANYWHERE in a swamp was a problem. He was aiming for his previous camping spot, but soon realized that there was no way for him to find it again now.

And the groans were still there, still approaching. Cael didn't know if swamp dragons could track his smell in this stinky place somehow, but if they could, it wasn't good.

It was then that he heard another call.

"Hunter! Over there, hunter!"

The voice was low and so hoarse that Cael barely could make out words, especially since it came from a distance away. He turned his head and saw a silhouette of something vaguely dome-shaped standing amid a group of sickly trees about forty meters away.

Cael couldn't make out any mana from that distance, but he only needed to walk a few meters forward to sense IT.

His eyes widened, and he almost stepped into the water from shock. The entire dome-like thing he assumed was a hut, just glowed with mana! Strong, fierce mana... that was too much like that of swamp dragons.

"Don't fret, hunter!" the creature called out again. It moved now, and Cael could make out a long neck and a raised head. "I wish you no harm!"

Cael calmed down a little at the truth of the creature's words. He approached it with less caution.

And when he was close enough to take a good look at the being, Cael stopped short in its tracks. Because that thing...

It was a real, nothing like the swamp mockeries of the kind, dragon.