The gates of Riveria were still draped in the soft, golden light of dawn when the party assembled. Zoro stood at the head of the group, his arms crossed over his chest, three swords strapped to his hip—a sight that usually made the local guards look the other way in sheer intimidation. Beside him, his veteran team of mercenaries checked their gear with practiced, grim efficiency.
The guild had issued an S-Rank subjugation request specifically for Zoro: a rogue Earth-Drake, a lesser dragon that had been terrorizing the trade routes and shredding every mid-tier party sent to stop it.
Zoro shifted his weight, his one good eye narrowing as he looked toward the jagged peaks of the Wyrm-Tooth Mountains. "It's a bad omen," he grunted, his voice like grinding stones. "The mountain air is too quiet. Dragons don't usually descend this far unless something is pushing them."
"Or maybe it just heard you were coming and wanted to get the fight over with," Erin chimed in, stepping forward.
Erin looked different than he had a week ago. The frantic, jagged energy that usually radiated from him had been smoothed out, replaced by a strange, ethereal calm. His eyes seemed to hold a flicker of white-gold light that wouldn't fade, a remnant of the "Heavenly" power he was still struggling to map out.
"Kid," Zoro said, looking down at him with a gaze that could peel paint. "This isn't a sparring match. A dragon's hide doesn't care about your potential. If you lose your cool like you did in the past, you're dead weight. I'm thinking we leave you at the gate. You're still a brat who can barely hold a sword straight."
Erin didn't flinch. He met his master's gaze with a steady, unwavering focus. "I won't lose it. I promise. I've found the center. I'm not the same person who panicked in the pits. I'll do my job—even if it's just staying out of your way until you need an opening."
Zoro stared at him for a long, silent minute. The team held their breath. Finally, the veteran warrior spat on the ground and turned toward the forest. "Don't make me regret this. If you trip, I'm leaving you for the crows. Move out."
The trek into the Whispering Woods was suffocating. The deeper they went, the more the trees seemed to lean in, their branches interlocking like skeletal fingers. The typical sounds of the forest—the chirp of insects, the rustle of small game—had vanished.
When they found the drake, it was already waiting.
It was a massive beast, covered in plates of obsidian-colored scales that looked like armor forged in a volcano. It let out a roar that vibrated through Erin's very marrow, shaking the leaves from the trees.
"Form up!" one of the veterans bellowed, but Zoro was already moving.
The fight was a masterclass in violence. Zoro didn't just fight; he dismantled. He moved with a terrifying, heavy power, his blades singing through the air. Erin stayed on the periphery, his movements fluid and light. Every time the dragon swung its tail or lunged with its crystalline teeth, Erin was already a step ahead, his new "Heavenly" senses alerting him to the danger before it even happened.
But even with the team's precision, the dragon was a monster for a reason. It took every ounce of Zoro's focus just to keep the beast pinned down. They were winning—the dragon was bleeding from a dozen gashes—but the air around it didn't just turn cold; it turned vile.
Suddenly, the dragon's eyes snapped open. They weren't golden anymore. They were a pulsing, oily purple. A black ichor began to leak from its wounds, boiling as it touched the grass.
"Get back!" Zoro roared, his voice cracking with a rare note of alarm. "It's not a dragon anymore! Something's inside it!"
A high-ranking demon, which had been suppressing its malicious presence to the point of invisibility, had been hiding in the shadows of the beast's soul, waiting for the moment of death to claim the vessel. The dragon's corpse stood up, its bones snapping and reforming as the demon forced the flesh to mutate.
The pressure was immense. The veteran mercenaries fell to their knees, vomiting from the sheer spiritual toxicity of the demon's aura. Zoro himself felt the weight, his breathing turning heavy as he gripped his swords.
"Stay focused!" Zoro yelled, his own aura flaring to shield his men. He lunged at the possessed beast, but the demon-dragon moved with a speed that defied physics. It swiped a claw, sending Zoro skidding through the dirt.
Erin felt the old panic rising—the familiar coldness of fear. No, he thought, clenching his fists. Not again. Not now.
He remembered the gift. He remembered the white-gold light that had settled in his chest. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, reaching into that well of purity. He wasn't stronger than Zoro—not even close—but he had the one thing that could pierce the demon's veil.
"Master!" Erin's voice rang out, sounding strangely layered, as if a choir were speaking through him. "I'll open the path! Strike through the center!"
Zoro, coughing up dust, looked at Erin and saw the boy's eyes glowing like twin stars. He gave a sharp, wolfish grin. "Don't blink, brat!"
Zoro stood, his stance widening. He tucked one sword into his mouth, his hands gripping the other two. A crushing, invisible weight began to radiate from his blades—a sheer force of will that seemed to turn the very air black. It wasn't magic; it was the raw, terrifying pressure of a man who had stared down death and didn't blink.
Erin leaped into the air. He didn't feel the weight of his body anymore.
"HEAVENLY JUDGMENT!"
A pillar of blinding, holy light descended from the canopy, slamming into the demon's head. It didn't kill the beast, but it scorched the demonic ichor, paralyzing the monster for a heartbeat and forcing its guard down.
In that split second of opening, Zoro moved. He began to rotate his two hand-held swords in a blurring, hypnotic circle, his eyes locking onto the demon's core. In a flash of lethal motion, he lunged.
"Three Sword Style: Secret Skill... SANZEN SEKAI!"
He spun like a cyclone of steel, a massive wheel of cutting energy that tore through the dragon's neck and the demon's core simultaneously. The strike was so powerful it didn't just cut the beast; it cleared the mist in the woods for a hundred yards.
The dragon's head hit the ground with a thud that shook the forest. The demon's essence evaporated into white smoke, unable to withstand the combination of holy light and Zoro's sheer, unfiltered will.
Silence returned.
Erin landed on his feet, but his legs were like jelly. The world began to tilt. The "Heavenly" light vanished from his eyes, leaving behind a hollow, agonizing ache in his head. The toll was far greater than he had anticipated; it felt as though the light had used his very soul as fuel.
His vision went black. As he tumbled forward, Zoro didn't even break his stride. He caught the falling boy by the back of his tunic with a single, massive hand as if picking up a stray kitten.
"Tch. Still a lot of dead weight," Zoro whispered, a small, grim smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He effortlessly slung the unconscious boy over his shoulder with a care he'd never admit to having.
The return trip was much slower. The team carried the dragon's heart—a trophy that would pay for their repairs ten times over—while Zoro carried Erin like a sack of grain.
By the time they reached the towering stone gates of Riveria, the sun was setting. Erin had regained consciousness, though he was still leaning heavily on his staff.
"We made it," Erin wheezed, looking at the familiar archway. "The guild is going to have to give us a double bonus for that demon. Maybe I can finally buy that better armor..."
Zoro didn't say anything. He just kept walking with his usual, heavy-footed rhythm.
"Think of the food we can get," Erin continued, his voice getting stronger as the sight of the city cheered him up. "I bet the tavern has that roast lamb tonight. Come on, Zoro, I'm buying the first round with my cut of the—"
Erin stopped. He looked to his left. Zoro wasn't there.
He turned around and saw Zoro walking at a brisk pace toward a solid stone wall bordering the Western Stables—the exact opposite direction of the Guild Hall.
"Zoro!" Erin yelled, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "The gate is right here! We are literally standing in front of the entrance! Where are you going?"
Zoro didn't even turn his head. "I know a shortcut," he grumbled, confidently marching toward the wall.
"That's a stone wall, Zoro! You're going to headbutt a fortification!" Erin limped after him, clutching his side. "The Guild is that way! North! Why do you do this every single time?!"
"Shut up, brat," Zoro grumbled. "The wind is blowing this way. It's a straight shot."
The veteran team just sighed in unison and followed their leader toward the dead-end, leaving Erin shouting at the sunset.