How to Deal with Dragons
What the hell was going on?
I was genuinely shocked.
'A Fireball failed?'
The spell that shot a small flame from one's fingertips was one of the most basic of all spells.
Even children who had just begun to learn how to circulate mana inside their bodies could easily form a Fireball the size of their fists.
So for a player, there was absolutely no reason for it to fail.
But no matter how many times I blinked, the message remained as firm as ever:
[For unknown reasons, the spell has been canceled.]
A Fireball failure message — something that had never once appeared in the original game.
While I was standing there in disbelief, the bandits were just as bewildered.
"W-What the hell?!"
"That bastard on the roof! He's a mage!"
"Run—no, knock him off and kill him!"
Their bloodthirsty shouts snapped me back to reality.
'Alright, I'll clean this up first. Thinking comes later.'
I immediately switched my weapon loadout.
***
[Offensive Skill: Basic Rapid Shot]
Shoo-shoo-shoo-shoot!
A volley of arrows rained down.
Having been forged in countless battles of fire and blood, my Rapid Shot skill was already on the verge of leveling up.
[Skill level has increased!]
[Basic Rapid Shot has advanced to Intermediate Rapid Shot.]
The upgraded barrage of arrows poured down on the bandits like a monsoon, felling two or three of them in an instant.
Those hit screamed as they fell from their horses, spines snapping like twigs.
"What the hell's going on?!"
"Who said he was a mage? He's an archer!"
"Are your eyes just holes in your face?!"
The remaining bandits began riding in a zigzag to avoid my aim, closing in on the carriage.
One of them even managed to grab onto the handle of the passenger door—where Tyrbaen was sitting.
But by then, I'd already slung my bow aside and drawn several throwing daggers.
"Up close, these work better."
"...!"
The bandits, realizing my intent, hastily raised their shields.
Too late.
***
[Offensive Skill: Basic Dagger Arts]
Shwick!
I didn't target them—I targeted their horses.
Sorry, innocent beasts.
The daggers sliced through horsehide, burying deep.
Hiiiiiing!
The startled horses bucked violently, tumbling to the ground and crushing their riders beneath them.
Blood splattered.
[You have slain 'Wasteland Bandit.']
[You have slain 'Wasteland Bandit.']
[…]
Only two were left.
"Wrong target, damn it!"
"Shit, we're outta here!"
They exchanged desperate glances, preparing to flee—
but I hated letting experience points escape.
***
[Support Skill: Rope Throw]
Two weighted ropes with large knots flew through the air.
I'd once lassoed orcs mid-battle while surfing on waves of fire—
so this was child's play.
Swish!
The ropes tightened cleanly around the bandits' necks, yanking them up into the air.
"Gahh!"
"Urk!"
The men kicked helplessly, dangling from my ropes as their horses galloped away beneath them.
Meanwhile, I steadied myself on the carriage roof and prepared my next technique.
***
[Special Technique: Sword of Ash – First Form]
Wuuuuuu…
Mana resonated with steel, humming with eerie vibration.
The unstable Sword Spirit flickered, forming and collapsing repeatedly due to my weak mana reserves.
'Still… this is mana too, isn't it?'
With that thought, I swung it without hesitation.
Slash!
Two sets of heads and torsos separated cleanly, disappearing into the dust kicked up by the speeding carriage.
The entire skirmish had taken less than thirty seconds.
'Well, they were just mobs.'
What truly bothered me was not the bandits—
but this sudden inability to cast magic.
'I'll think this through once we reach the monastery.'
As I sheathed my blade and moved to climb back down—
"…Heh."
"…?"
I met the dumbfounded gaze of Kals, half-losing grip of the reins, staring at me like he'd seen a ghost.
"Your Highness… you didn't happen to spend ten years in some mercenary corps behind my back, did you?"
* * *
Mercenary corps? No.
I was from the 26th Regiment of the Army Training Center.
So yeah, I'd slept on dirt before.
And I'd slept plenty in ragged old tents too.
But this place?
"…Can I even sleep here?"
As I stepped off the carriage, I couldn't help frowning.
Kals and Tyrbaen were nodding grimly beside me.
"This is… really a monastery?"
"Hmm. I'd say we'll have to settle for something that just keeps the rain out."
The monastery Archbishop Hendel had arranged for us was, to put it kindly, run-down beyond repair.
The structure looked so decrepit it might as well have been the set of a horror film.
"Your Highness, I'll go check the layout inside."
"I'll come with you, Sir Silion."
The two disappeared inside together, moving quickly—
and I had a pretty good guess they weren't just scouting.
Anyway.
"…It looks even worse than in the original. Or is that just me?"
Of course, I already knew this place.
It lay on the path to the Azure Mountain Range,
and in the original game it had been a bustling hub for players forming parties.
'Sometimes a monster raid event would trigger here too.'
Just like the bandit ambush earlier, hordes of monsters could suddenly swarm the place—
though that only ever happened at night, and not very often.
'Maybe one in ten runs, at most.'
So there was no need to worry.
***
"Your Highness! There's a decent room inside!"
"It looks like someone's been here recently. It's not completely abandoned."
Surprisingly, Kals and Tyrbaen returned with positive reports.
As they said, a few of the inner rooms were actually clean and well-maintained.
When I peeked inside, I was taken aback.
'Wait… this door didn't open in the original game.'
Which meant I'd just gained a convenient place to sleep—
as if it had been prepared specifically for today.
"When night falls, it'll get cold. Let's use one room to sleep in. Master, is that alright?"
"Oh? Ah, yes. Of course."
"I'm fine with it too."
And so, we chose a room and began to unpack our things.
The Proper Way to Deal with Dragons
Inside the monastery, there was a stone-paved courtyard—decent enough to serve as either a training ground or a makeshift kitchen.
Kals and Tyrbaen, having shared the life-or-death chaos of the cabin defense, seemed to have grown even closer—moving in sync like true siblings.
'Huh? Wait a second… that little witch…?'
She was walking around in her real form.
Without even triggering her identity-reveal event.
'Is that even allowed? In the original, that event was what triggered her 8-star awakening!'
Who knew what was going on.
While the knight and witch busied themselves setting up camp, I mentally went over what I needed to do here.
These were the preparations required to enter the Dragon's Nest.
And the very first item on the list—
'First, I need to figure out why I can't use magic.'
I had my suspicions, but I needed to confirm them.
***
While Tyrbaen finished dinner and began her mana training, and Kals went out to patrol the area—
"…Let's start from the beginning."
I laid out a blank sheet of paper and began scribbling down thoughts.
'Fireball failed.'
The Sword Spirit flickered weakly.
'Even when I used the Haewoo Sword Technique back at the hunting grounds, it kept cutting in and out.'
Even basic communication spells were unstable.
In fact, every ability that relied on mana was unreliable.
If I had to name one spell that did work properly, it was the convenience spell Inventory…
'But that's not even a real spell in this world. Every NPC can use it.'
Even a seven-year-old kid could access their inventory.
Which meant I was, beyond any doubt—
'A magic dud.'
"Damn it."
I cursed without thinking.
The fact that this body was incapable of using magic was too absurd to stomach.
Sure, I knew ways to progress in this game without magic.
Techniques like the Mercenary Gladiator Card, or sword styles that turned an opponent's strength against them—these didn't require mana.
That was how I'd made it this far.
'But that can only take me so far.'
Eventually, I'd hit a wall.
The higher the level, the more indispensable magic became.
So I had to solve this problem.
'Alright, let's think this through.'
I filled the paper with doodles and notes, chasing every theory I'd considered so far.
'Gilroshan…'
Not me—but the original Gilroshan.
I thought about the man who'd owned this body before I possessed it.
'Why was he scorned as the "Pig Prince" again?'
I questioned myself.
'Because he had absolutely no magical talent.'
Right.
In the original story, Gilroshan was infamous for being the one imperial prince who never learned magic.
But why was that?
Was he simply lazy?
'No. That doesn't track.'
According to Kals, young Gilroshan had been the complete opposite—studious and determined.
He wasn't the kind to quit out of sloth.
It made far more sense that he'd been unable to learn, rather than unwilling.
'Tyrbaen mentioned something similar too.'
But that didn't make sense either.
He was of the imperial bloodline—descended from the Magical Dynasty itself.
How could someone like that lack the ability to use magic?
According to the original game
Even someone who half-listened in class should have at least enough mana to levitate a feather.
'So how did Gilroshan fail to reach even that level…?'
That's when suspicion began to form.
What if something else had been wrong?
What if he hadn't been a fool or a failure—
'…but rather, something about his body rejected magic itself?'
Maybe this body possessed some kind of hidden trait that made it incompatible with imperial magic.
If so, it wasn't that Gilroshan had no talent.
It was that magic simply couldn't stick to him.
I had a guess as to what that trait might be.
Scratch, scratch.
On the white page, I wrote down the most likely culprit.
—Magic Immunity.
A rare hidden trait where part of the body develops a powerful resistance to mana.
Mana flow avoids those regions, leading to severely reduced magical capability.
If that were the case, it would perfectly explain why Gilroshan couldn't learn the Empire's magic.
Of course, I couldn't be sure yet.
In the original
So nothing was ever revealed about his secrets or hidden traits.
But this theory made more sense than the alternatives.
'It's far more plausible than him being some hopeless idiot or an anti-magic zealot born into a magical dynasty.'
I'd suspected this for a while—and I'd already told Tyrbaen about it.
She'd even gone out of her way to find a way to test it.
That was why she'd disappeared earlier while Kals and I were meeting Vice Chancellor Kide.
And right on cue—
"Alright!"
Tyrbaen burst into the room, tapping her staff smartly against her palm.
"All set, my incompetent disciple?"
She looked far too excited.
"…Please go easy on me, Master."
But her grin was ominous.
"Sorry, it's going to hurt. Nothing I can do about it."
And with that, the experiment to test my suspected magic immunity—
was about to begin.
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