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[SP-F1] Courageous Beyond Measure IV (Complete)


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A fearsome roar erupted from the creature's mouth, carrying with it the full force of a tsunami. He recalled a bit of trivia he had learned back in physics- that after a certain point, soundwaves ceased to be sound waves, and instead became shock waves. The difference between them was in scope and magnitude, and he had the feeling that this would safely pass in both aspects with flying colors. Flying, like the great beast itself, which hovered in the air with the use of two massive wings. Each beat of its humongous wings should have summoned a cool gust of wind, but instead blasted him with a jet of hot air. In the presence of this colossus, it felt as if his entire world were melting.

Edited by Azide
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The initial burst of wind had knocked him off balance, and disrupted his defensive stance entirely. When the second round arrived only moments later, he was tossed back like a ragdoll beholden to some careless child. Sweat dripped down his face, blurring his vision and sending him into a state of genuine panic. "No good," he thought. "I can't see a thing..." Desperately, he dabbed at his face with a tattered sleeve. As the deed was done, he caught sight of the sorry state of his hands- they'd received a rather harsh scorching, courtesy of one Molten Hydra. And to think, the beast had not yet released even a single flame...

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"Damn..." he muttered, biting his tongue as flexed his burnt digits. With his remaining good hand, Azide cut off a long strip of fabric from what was left of his charred sleeve, and wrapped it around the injured hand as a makeshift bandage. Though crude, and giving his palm the appearance of having been wrapped in grip tape, it would at least make the pain a bit more manageable. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the airborne reptilian turning in his very direction, and leapt out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed entirely.

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After a controlled tumble, he sprang back up only to avoid yet another aerial charge with a well-timed flip. Though his landing had been shaky, and wouldn't be earning him any Olympic medals, he was glad to have invested skill points into Acrobatics. With the winged beast entering a temporary cooldown, he shunted himself back into action, and was on the move once more. He circled the hovering creature in a wide circumference as sweat continued to drip across the entirety of his body, as if he'd been caught in a summer shower. The ninth floor was hot enough as it was- being home to so many active volcanoes. To throw Molten Hydra into the mix? It was like lighting the sauna on fire.

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Reaching for the leather pouch at his side, he lifted the flap gingerly and removed from it his trusted dagger. His fingers clasped lightly around the charcoal grip of the blade, as if appraising the feeling of it. Finally, he tightened them, eliciting a sharp gasp. The dagger had nearly fallen out of his hand altogether- it would definitely be a pain to wield any sort of weapon today, bandages or not. He cursed himself for not having practiced with his off-hand. But there was no helping it, and no time to dream of what could have been.

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He gritted his teeth and began to grind them against each other- it was all he could do to suppress the overwhelming urge to scream. Aching legs, arms, a ragged set of lungs and a charred hand dressed in a sweaty tattered jacket- all of these things did not make for a pleasant time. But in spite of it all, he continued to bear the pain like a champ, and even gripped the dagger tighter as he began to home in on the flying leviathan. That multi-headed abomination in the sky- he hated that thing right now more than anything in the entire world.

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If he were to be honest, there remained admittedly little chance of killing Molten Hydra today, nor would he likely ever get that chance again. Perhaps in the future, a more experienced party would learn from their mistakes and overcome the hellish creature. But not today. For a long while, he had eyed his inventory long and hard- what had first seemed like an adequate supply of health crystals had quickly become underwhelming. As the fight had dragged on, his preparations had proven to be wildly off target, and the crystals had dwindled to a trickle.

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When the first casualty had struck, a collective cry for the ages had filled the air with a blazing agony. Had that agony been any thicker, it surely would have caught flame and burned into a crisp within that smoldering room. The already somber mood had only grown darker as the gravitas of the situation began to truly resonate with the raiding party. By necessity, the group of participating frontliners consisted of those who had been strong enough to survive battle after battle- they had felt immortal before that fateful day.

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They had faltered as the screams of the dying man rang in the ears. The floodgates had been opened, and their weaknesses exposed- ideas of immortality had faded from even the most seasoned of their ranks. WIth morale plummeting from an all-time low, panic and disorder only hastened the demise of the damned group. Tanks began to flee, and with their retreat, the efforts of the cavalry had been abandoned altogether. As the players had scattered to the outer edges of the room, scrambling to find their teleportation crystals, Molten Hydra had routed over half of the party there and then.

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From there, a few had accepted their fates, and turned back to the great beast with a powerful vengeance. Powerful to the everyday mob, yes- but their wrath paled in comparison to that of the multi-headed dragon. One by one, each of these desperate warriors was snapped up by the many faces of the hydra, still stabbing and slashing away even as they slid down the creature's gullet. The less courageous of their numbers simply darted around, while other still clung in desperation to their useless teleportation crystals. This room was not like the others- there would be no escaping this hell.

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To their credit, the surviving bunch had shown a surprising resilience, and managed to survive long after the initial massacre. But even they had eventually fallen one way or another, whether by the unforgiving heat, or at the hands of their most hated foe. And there he was- kept alive by the meager stock of healing crystals which he'd claimed were no more. As his companions were devoured by the slow burn of the volcano, he had kept himself sane only by repeating a simple mantra. "There is nothing that can be done for them. Forgive me."

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By the end, Azide had been too tired, too worn to even wince as the last of his brethren shattered unceremoniously against the wall behind him. The hydra had swatted the man away like he was nothing, as if it were flicking away a pesky little mosquito. The cold truth of the matter had long ago been beaten into his skull; none of them had ever stood a chance here today. They had been little more than men in the lair of a god who'd despised them all.

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Azide glowed a faint green as the last of his crystals crumbled away in his hands. The quality had not been all there, but it was the best he'd had, and at the very least served to ease the pain. As he stared into the burning eyes of Molten Hydra, he realized what it was that this place reminded him of. To put it simply, this was how he had always pictured the end of the world. And in a sense, it was- for those who had died within this fiery prison, and for those who were still in the process.

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It was a shame, he thought, that he had never had the chance to change the world. Not the limiting world of Aincrad, but rather the boundless world from which he'd arrived. Only a few semesters had stood between himself and graduation, and yet here he was. Whisked away into a strange, unforgiving world. An unchanging world, where the status quo would always be restored by the infinite control of CARDINAL. For every wolf, bear, snake or boar that fell to their blades, more would take their place in only a matter of minutes. Here, nothing had ever changed.

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In a misguided effort, he had blindly chased after the enigmatic field of alchemy. But even the potent crafts of the alchemist paled in comparison to the limitless science of chemistry. With all of the crystals in the world, he had been unable to change a single thing- they had all died in the end. All he'd accomplished was to extend their meager existences for a few measly moments more. For all of his resources and efforts, his contributions had failed to make a difference.

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With the burden of expectation lifted graciously from his shoulders, he could at least take comfort in the knowledge that he would go down fighting. Was it not preferable to die on his own terms, rather than those of this brainless beast? In the very least, he would know that he was not a coward. With his dagger entrenched firmly in his hand, he raised the swift blade so that it began to glow red. As soon as the system had registered his Sword Art, Azide hurtled himself across the ashen ground. With a leap for the ages, the green blur shot into the air and grabbed onto a scale which had protruded from the winged reptile's massive underbelly. After a concerted effort, he climbed atop the still airborne monstrosity before plunging the radiant steel straight into the creature's leathery hide.

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There was no satisfying yelp to greet his ears as he dug deeper into the hydra's flesh, nor did the creature react much in any significant capacity. He had not expected such a result, having paralyzed the beast by the luck of the draw. His eyes narrowed, and he spat at the ground and heard the specks sizzle against the ground floor below. He resented this creature. Not just for what it had done, but also for what it had refused to do. He wanted to hear the thing cry out, so that he would be sure that the beast had known his hatred. His nostrils flared, and his jaws grated against each other as he twisted the knife slowly before tearing it out with a violent yank of his hand.

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In his preoccupation, Azide had neglected a certain downside to the dragon's paralysis- namely, that paralyzed wings did not lend to an aerodynamic design. Both the hydra and the player perched upon it were sent plummeting, with the resulting impact creating a tremor which filled the whole room- from the quivering ground to the trembling air. The force of the collision had nearly thrown him off the beast entirely, and surely would have succeeded in doing so, had he not wrapped his arms so tightly around the base of one of the abomination's numerous necks.

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Sprawled out across the ground like a turtle on its back, Molten Hydra could do nothing but writhe around uselessly in its current state. For some time, Azide simply watched the proud beast struggle, with the full knowledge that he would have to make his next few moves count. Activating paralysis had been nothing more than a stroke of good luck in an otherwise unfortunate day- but what would come next would be wholly of his own doing. The blade of Azide's dagger shined red as he bore the razor-sharp edge before him, and the soft luminescence reflected in his scathing eyes. In a flash, he struck the downed creature just as it began to stir, silencing it once more with a stunning skill.

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This time, rather than wait, he went immediately back to work. He wiped away the sweat from his brow before activating yet another Sword Art, and the metal edge became red once more. From a distance, it would have appeared bloodstained, he noted. A flurry of slashes followed, and he gave everything he had in this last brazen assault. But even after all of that, the creature had not vanished- not that he'd truly believed that it would. Even so, he could not deny that perhaps a small part of him had clung to that small glint of hope, even after all this time.

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