Gacha System: Reborn In The Hardest World
Chapter 37: Legendary Summon

Chapter 37: Legendary Summon

The only choice he had was augmenting his own body. In that split-second, he hardened his skin and the muscle beneath. It was impossible to move; he became rigid like a statue as the wind howled against him like a beast’s roar.

"Ngh!—"

All he could see was the shredding wind, being lacerated across his body, though not split into chunks.

"Boss!"

"Master!—"

As his familiars ran for his aid, Blythe’s worry was present at the peak of the crater.

"I’m providing the most potent blessing I can...! Endure it, Gael!" Blythe struggled, focusing the verdant magic at her hands.

—Of course, all he heard were muffled words as he was in the eye of the storm. Amidst the wrath of the pristine beast, the visceral wind expanded throughout the crater.

Matteo deployed a white rune, creating a barrier in front of him, though the hissing element found its way to cut him still, "Shit...!"

The armor of Florentine did its best, though the wind found its way, leaving the woman on her knees, "I can’t...!"

Even at the top of the crater, the wind reached as Blythe watched the blades of air cut at her hands, "Ghh—!"

Everything was engulfed in the shredding tempest, all while the dragon itself remained spotless, without so much as a scratch on its immaculate scales.

["There’s a way I can win. It’s a chance–a chance founded on putting my own life on the line. If I bring myself to the edge, as close as I can get to dying, then...I should be able to summon something capable of wiping this dragon out."]

He fell to a knee as the slashes built up across his body, feeling as though no part of himself was left untouched, though keeping his eyes on the legendary beast. It felt like a joke; they were completely unprepared for the level of the dragon, yet–

["I can win."]

There was no doubt in his mind as he could hear nothing but the howling winds, chipping at his flesh, that he was teetering on the threshold of death.

["More...Just a bit more."]

He waited, biding his time as the slashes ran across his body, cutting across his chest, spilling more of his blood as it was swept up in the wind as well. As his consciousness flickered, hearing the growls of the beast vibrate through the storm, it clicked–

[Hidden Attribute Activated: "Life-or-Death Roll" | Minimum Rarity set to (SSR) while wounded.]

’There...!’ He found it.

The decision laid in his lips, having to choose in that second to invoke either a skill, weapon, or familiar–what would lead him to the highest chance of survival, no, of victory.

"Summon: Greek Mythos!--"

Just as he forced the invocation past his lips, the wind shredded his mouth, cutting at his throat as blood spilled after. Every second felt like an eternity in enduring the all-cutting storm, sitting on a knee as he helplessly watched the calamitous beast loom over him–

[Familiar Obtained: (LR) "Erebus, Primordial Darkness"]

–The dragon froze, even its bestial self gripped in an enigmatic fear. All at once, the air became cold as the sky dimmed. Though the sun was still awake, the sky itself that overlooked the region turned to black. It was an unnerving change, as if a light switch belonging to the world was flipped.

’LR? Legendary Rare?...Wait, I never saw that rarity listed in the system before–what is this?’ He thought, watching the storm vanish as darkness quickly filled the crater.

An eerie silence befell the land, as the dragon’s ire had completely left him as it instead looked around, spinning in every direction as if utterly afraid of what lurked in the dark. It was only then as he tried to pick himself up from the ground that he found a puddle made of shadow beside him.

From it, rose an enigmatic figure.

"You’re..." He muttered hoarsely, holding his bleeding throat.

It resembled the shape of a man, draped in armor made of bleeding ink, towering over twice his own height. The enigmatic entity lent its hand atop his head as if attempting to comfort him with its unsettling presence.

"Worry not, Master. I shall guide this unruly beast to the darkness."

Even though the figure shrouded in pitch-black armor addressed him as "Master", he felt the presence far greater than his own; it wasn’t human, standing more on the threshold of divinity.

The dragon unleashed a roar, lifting off the ground as its silver wings flapped, unleashing chaotic winds through the crater.

’Is it...trying to flee?’ Gael realized.

Erebus held his hand out as if reaching towards the airborne beast, "Fear not. This one will not escape the grasp of darkness."

Though the pale beast attempted to take to the sky, it stopped in place, as if completely frozen in mid-air. Not so much as one of its wings flapped, kept in the same position with its jaws ajar, only twitching subtly.

The others watched in quiet suspense, unknowing of just what phenomena it was that overwhelmed the dragon. Through the unnaturally dark atmosphere, the air had become thin, drier and more chilling; it left those that observed only able to spectate.

"Go silently into the night, o’ mighty beast."

With the clenching of his hand, the presence in black commanded the once unseen. Gael saw it at last, what held the dragon in place; hands born of darkness, reaching from all directions. The shadow limbs gripped at the scaled terror, crushing and pulling at its limbs before–

Like an orange squeezed of its juice, the great calamity exploded into a rain of scarlet.

"Ah—?"

It was an unbelievable sight; the mighty beast was squashed like a bug, pouring over the crater.

Florentine stood with silent awe, hanging her hammer to the ground, "Damn..."

"It’s done?" Matteo questioned, huffing as his decimated barrier collapsed.

The darkness retreated, allowing the sunlight to bleed through the valley once again. As the unseen hands slithered back into the vacated shadows, the dragon’s corpse was dropped to the ground.

[EXP: +10,000]

[Level Up!] [10 -> 15] [500/8000]

[BODY: +30] [MANA: +30]

[PERMANENT SUMMON: +5]

[SSR SUMMON: +1]

"I will bid farewell for now, Master. I do hope that you needn’t call upon me anytime soon."

Before he could say anything to the enigmatic presence, he found the man of shadow gone without a trace. There wasn’t a chance for him to experience triumph as the moment he tried to stand—

"Ghh...!"

It felt like electricity coursed through his body, paralyzing him as his muscles cramped. There was nothing he could do but fall, hearing the worried cries of his companions—

"Master!"

"Boss!"

"Dammit!— Gael!"

As he saw Blythe sliding down into the crater as his familiars rushed over, everything faded away. Utter weakness took hold of his body, evaporating his ability to stay awake as even meager thoughts were difficult to hold.

’What the hell is happening to my body...? Is it because of the LR...?’ He questioned.

As everything turned to black, he welcomed the slumber, as it was freedom from the agony gripping his body. In the reaches of the realm of dreams, he experienced nothing but floating through empty darkness.

["...We await your awakening..."]

["Rest now, the ordeal shall soon commence."]

["Drift calmly in the dark."]

The disembodied voices swam by him in his disembodied state; unfamiliar and ominous.

’Who...is talking to me?’ He thought.

["We expect great things, Gael."]

"Gah!—"

He shot up, opening his eyes to find himself removed from the drifting darkness. Instead, he found himself in the immaculate, marble room of the Galios keep. It was all vaguely familiar; the quartz stand that held an antique vase, the immaculate, reflective flooring, and even the paintings of past wars.

"I’m...awake?" Gael muttered in shock, looking down at his own body.

He was wrapped in peculiar bandages, enough that he could cosplay a mummy if it were Halloween.

"Oh, morning, Boss."

Beside his bed, he found himself greeted by Matteo, who had a pile of books beside him, reading one of them. Across the room, the warrior woman shot awake from her own map, "Wha—you’re up, Master!"

"Morning...? How long was I out?" Gael asked.

The one who answered walked into the room just then; the silver-haired woman strutted in with a look of relief.

"You’re finally awake...It’s been three days," Blythe told him, standing beside the bed.

"Three days—?! Are you serious? What happened? I remember summoning that guy, and the dragon died, then..." Gael recalled, propping his back against the bed frame.

It felt hard to believe, though he knew his own sense of time was warped in his sleep. There was no sense in denying it, only having to accept that the days had been lost.

"You nearly died. The first night, your heart stopped three times, in fact," Blythe told him, quietly breathing out as if still expressing relief.

"I got cut up pretty badly by that wind...I remember that," Gael recalled, touching the bandages over his body.

Blythe lightly shook her head, "The lacerations on your body were not an issue. I was able to halt your bleeding and got assistance from the royal medics. That posed no risk to you."

"If it wasn’t the wind, then why did I almost die–?" Gael questioned.

"Weakness," Blythe answered.