Rise of the Dragon Hunter, page 1
Rise Of The Dragon Hunter
The Isekai Warrior
Book 1
Malcolm Fortin
Marcus Sloss
Copyright © 2024 by Royal Guard Publishing LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
End of Book 1 Status Sheets
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Chapter One
An unusually powerful storm brewed in the distance, prompting individuals caught in its path to take shelter. In the case of Captain Mark Gideon, he guided the UH-60M Blackhawk he was piloting toward an airfield operated by the United States Army. He double-checked his instruments while approaching the helicopter landing zone just a few klicks away, the vehicle drifting above an arid desert, its rotating blades swishing.
“Confirmed, you’re clear for descent. Be advised, a sandstorm is moving into the area. Land with caution.”
Mark nodded. “Willco,” he replied, speaking into his radio.
As Mark guided the Blackhawk to its destination, he noticed how fast the sandstorm had picked up. How it changed directions to move toward his decelerating helicopter. Odd for the storm to do that. By his estimate, he should be able to touch down long before the sandstorm arrived.
The UH-60M reached the base, where Mark lowered the craft to land, the flag of the United States waving proudly in the winds. The flag vanished seconds later, replaced with the sight of giant clouds of dust blowing past, completely enveloping the descending Blackhawk helicopter.
“Ah, hell.” Mark gritted his teeth, his brow furling. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The swirling sandstorm surrounded his vehicle, clouding the world away with each passing second. After five seconds, he couldn’t tell that there was a base anywhere near him. The rotating blades of his helicopter weren’t helping, adding to the brownout’s intensity.
“Command, are you seeing this?” Mark bellowed into his radio.
“Yeah, that’s got to be the fastest-moving sandstorm—” The radio cut out. “Stand by for—”
Static distorted the voice, making it impossible for Mark to understand.
He grimaced while clasping his vehicle’s control stick. “Say again, HQ?”
But the static continued to distort the radio.
“Say again,” Mark said. “Last message not received.”
The crackling radio static slowly faded away, leaving behind an unsettling silence that hung in the air. It felt as if everyone had just upped and left. He’d worry about that later. Right now, Mark couldn’t see through the swirling sandstorm that engulfed his descending helicopter, its furious gusts hurling dust and debris in every direction.
The raging tempest masked the landscape, forcing Mark to rely on his flying expertise as he attempted to guide the craft down, trying his best to remember what he glimpsed of the terrain before the brownout happened. Suddenly, the Blackhawk’s sturdy frame jerked, sending violent vibrations coursing through the entire fuselage, rattling the seat Mark occupied. The landing proved far rougher than he had expected.
His entire world shook. Mark desperately tried to regain control of the Blackhawk as it teetered and tilted, slowly rolling onto its side.
“Shit!” Mark frantically operated the flight stick. “C’mon, baby, work with me here! We’ve been through brownouts before. Don’t make this the last!”
He heard a voice echo while struggling to keep the Blackhawk in one piece.
And it didn’t come from his radio.
“I thought there’d be more people like you,” a woman’s voice said. Her voice was… angelic.
“Command, is that you?” Mark asked, speaking into his radio.
“Oh, well. I suppose you’ll have to do.”
Everything became still, except for the persistent vibrations of the Blackhawk’s spinning blades. His surroundings turned dark.
And then it wasn’t dark anymore.
Mark shook his head. Had he dozed off? He looked about, noting that the helicopter was still in one piece. It seemed as if Mark had managed to recover from what could have been a deadly crash.
Why he blacked out afterward was a question for later.
The brownout persisted, shrouding his surroundings in a veil of obscurity. He hadn’t been out very long. Mark powered down the helicopter and climbed out of his vehicle, only to be immediately hit by the rush of wind outside.
His boots didn’t land on the tarmac. The ground below him felt surprisingly soft like walking through a spring-touched park.
Mark strolled through the cloud of dust to the calls of a third party yelling.
“Are you okay?”
Is that someone from base? Mark thought. Maybe, but I don’t recognize her voice. And she wasn’t the voice I heard earlier, either. Mark briefly observed the exterior of the Blackhawk as he wandered through the dust that settled, unveiling a landscape he hadn’t been expecting to see.
It wasn’t the base.
It was a grass field, its horizon adorned with snowcapped mountains on the horizon while a morning sun shone over the landscape. Multiple waterfalls gushed off hills in the distance to feed into a vast web of rivers that carved through the terrain beyond. Trees with bright emerald leaves swayed about as the lingering effects of the sandstorm dissipated.
Everywhere Mark spun, he saw nothing but the splendors of nature around him, hearing the chirps of birds singing. He pulled off his helmet and dropped it onto the grass, wincing with disbelief.
“What the hell…”
A screen appeared before Mark, beckoning him to read its contents.
[System Notice: Invalid items detected in your possession. Converting them into valid and recognizable items. Please standby.]
A secondary display materialized, hovering to his right. Mark turned to face it, reading its words carefully, his eyes darting back and forth.
[System Notice: Your skill set is invalid and will be updated. Please standby.]
“Huh?”
A splitting headache struck Mark out of nowhere. It felt like a dozen thunderbolts had erupted in his mind, the pain so excruciating he held the sides of his head and nearly collapsed to the grass. And then, as if someone had flicked a switch, the pain faded to become a distant memory, as with his experience as a Blackhawk pilot. He barely remembered how to operate one now, but for some reason, he knew how to pilot dwarven airships—whatever those were.
A new screen appeared.
[System Notice: Your invalid skills have been updated. Please take a look. Simply focus your thoughts and envision the display screen activating.]
With a thought in his mind, Mark activated his primary status screen, its contents causing him to grimace.
[Mark Gideon]
Race: Human
Level: 12
Melee Level: 12
Marksmanship Level: 0
Spellcasting Level: 0
He located the main menu screen after that, scrolled through it, and found the skills options, taking care to read each one.
[Expert Airship Pilot | You can operate dwarven airships. Skill converted from your Blackhawk experience.]
[Enhanced Melee Prowess | Affects your ability to wield a melee weapon in combat. Skill converted from your firearms training.]
[Soldier’s Fitness | Your time in the army will increase your strength, endurance, and stamina by 2% for each year you have served.]
He had to take a couple of steps backward. “Okay…”
“Oh, there you are!”
Mark turned from the screen to spot two figures approaching him from a grove of trees up ahead. He wanted answers. Waking up in this field, the headache, the screens… His best guess was that someone drugged him shortly after landing, and he had no memory of it. The screens were likely a drug-induced hallucination, and the two approaching individuals? They were probably involved. For what reason, he didn’t know.
Two young women, no older than twenty, approa
He questioned if it was appropriate to even call it armor. Her thigh-high armored boots matched the elegance of her attire, while a black skirt provided a striking contrast. A sword, secured in its scabbard, hung from her sword belt, adding an air of authority to her presence.
As Mark’s gaze traveled upward, he noticed silver cosmetics delicately applied around her eyes, enhancing their allure. Her long hair, also silver, cascaded down to her lower back, framing her features like a flowing waterfall.
Her companion captured his attention next, holding it in a mesmerizing grip. There was a reason for that. White rabbit ears protruded from her head of luscious, cascading sky-blue curls. Her dress, a glittering outfit of sparkling azure, clung to her form, leaving little to the imagination. Its delicate fabric hugged her skin, revealing the tantalizing contours of her body—the slight indentation of her navel, the graceful curve of her hips, and the inviting roundness of her breasts.
She wore long fingerless gloves that embraced her arms and open-toe, heeled shoes adorned with peculiar symbols. A shimmering necklace and tiara glowed with majestic light, casting a spellbinding aura against her pale skin.
“You see, Ophelia?” the rabbit-eared girl said to her companion. “If you pray, the Lady will deliver.”
The swordswoman, evidently named Ophelia, nodded while folding her arms. “I am surprised the prayer worked so quickly.”
Mark ambled closer. “Who are you?” he asked as he neared the pair. “And why—”
“Did we ask the Lady to bring you to our world?” the rabbit-eared girl cut in. “Glad you asked!”
Ophelia glared at her companion with an emotionless expression. “He did not ask any questions, Alexia.”
The rabbit-eared girl, Alexia, grinned while lifting a single index finger to her lips. “He was going to ask why the Lady summoned him.”
“Actually, I was going to ask why someone kidnapped me and stole property of the United States Army,” Mark said.
Alexia’s white bunny ears straightened, one eyebrow-raising inquisitively. “What?”
“United States?” Ophelia asked with a perplexed glare.
Mark cringed. “You’re joking, right?”
Both girls shook their heads.
“Anyway,” Alexia said, pointing at him, “to answer your question, we need your help.”
“Help with what?” Mark snorted. “Participating in some LARP?”
Ophelia’s perplexed glare remained. “A… larp?”
“Live Action Role-Playing,” he said. “I mean, you two are obviously cosplayers acting in character.”
Two blank stares ogled him.
Mark let out a tired sigh before a brief chuckle escaped his lips. “Ladies, can you please drop the act? As much as I’d love to chat with you both, I really need to find out where I am and report back to base.”
Their blank stares remained.
“I do not understand,” Ophelia said.
“It must be because he’s from another world,” Alexia said. “The Lady probably didn’t explain to him what to expect.” She narrowed her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Captain Mark Gideon, United States Army.”
“Well, then, Mark, let me explain on behalf of the Lady.”
“I shall do so,” Ophelia said, stepping forward, her taller frame drawing attention away from Alexia. “It was my duty to seek aid.”
Alexia trotted ahead, glaring up at Ophelia, both fists clenching. “I made the prayer! So, I should take this task of explaining!”
Ophelia waved her off and faced Mark. “Warrior, there is—”
“A dragon about to defeat the Chira Royal Army,” Alexia interjected, taking center stage to draw Mark’s eye. “The dragon will raze our city to the ground if our soldiers fall!”
Mark gave them a half-smile. “So, remember that time I said to drop the LARP act?”
“This is no act, warrior from another world,” Ophelia said.
His leer widened. “Dragons? Royal Army?” He shifted his glare to Alexia and her bunny ears. “You two are the most dedicated LARPers I’ve ever seen.”
Ophelia studied him intently with a tilt of her head, her gaze never wavering. “You keep using that word.”
“It must have significant meaning from his world.” Alexia tapped her upper lip repeatedly, face lost in thought. “Ah!” She snapped her fingers. “Perhaps he is trying to initiate a greeting commonplace among his people.”
Ophelia shook her head. “I highly doubt that—”
“Let’s return the favor and greet him in the same manner,” Alexia interrupted.
“You should listen to your friend,” he said, beaming a grin at Ophelia.
“Alexia and I are not friends.”
It didn’t seem like the two were going to back down from their story, and there was a reason for that. Mark stepped closer to Alexia, seeking that reason, his intense gaze holding her in place, and his warm smile putting her at ease.
“Hey, do you mind if I test something?” he asked her.
“Would this get you to come with us?”
“Maybe.”
“Then go ahead!”
He stood next to Alexia, peering down at her small frame. She looked up at him, and her twitching lip couldn’t help but curl itself into a smile. As that happened, Mark extended his hand and tenderly brushed his fingers against the soft, white fur of Alexia’s left rabbit ear, feeling its warmth and observing the gentle quiver of the appendage.
“Oh my!” Alexia let out a sharp gasp, her cheeks instantly reddening. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Wow.” Mark touched her right ear, stroking its texture before the fluffy length twitched instinctively. “These are warm…”
“Of course they are.”
“That’s a really nice costume.” He glided his hand down her rabbit ear while looking behind Alexia, noting a white puffy rabbit tail on her behind, sticking out through a small hole cut into her dress. He gave the tail a playful pull.
Alexia sprinted away from him, holding her behind, and quickly angled her flushed face, dripping with sweat at him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Okay. That isn’t a costume,” Mark said. “You knew I touched your tail without looking at me doing it. And it feels real, just like your ears.”
Alexia narrowed her eyes at him angrily, one hand rubbing her tail, her cute ears sagging down to her shoulders.
Mark shrugged. “Sorry about that. I thought you two were hardcore role players who drugged me.”
Something was up, and it wasn’t a prank. The sandstorm had taken Mark to another world. That’d explain why the storm moved so unbelievably fast. It wasn’t a naturally occurring phenomenon; it was an unexplainable anomaly that targeted his Blackhawk specifically.
Ophelia walked closer, her head shifting as if she were searching for something. “Where are the others?” she asked him. “Other warriors like you.”
“It’s just me.”
“I see,” she whispered to herself.
“Wait, just you?” Alexia said. She trotted closer, wincing and pulling on her wavy blue hair. “But… but… my prayer specifically requested multiple fighters.”
He gave her a shrug. “I’m all you got.”
“I told you, Alexia,” Ophelia said to her. “You should have allowed me to pray.”
“As an Adept of the mage’s guild, I am closer to the Lady than a Holy Knight such as yourself.”
He recalled the voice that spoke to him during the brownout. I thought there’d be more people like you. Oh well, I guess you’ll have to do.
“That voice did sound disappointed,” he said.
Both Alexia and Ophelia faced him. “Voice?”
“Some woman was in my head.”
“You heard the voice of the Lady?” Ophelia asked.
“I guess.”
Alexia smirked at him. “Then you know you must obey.”
“Hold on, Alexia,” Ophelia said, touching her partner’s shoulder. “Do not pressure him.” Ophelia stared into his eyes. “Let me handle this.”
