Children of the Dragon (4)
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A barrage of hundreds of cannons fired in unison, their thunderous roar echoing across the battlefield.
The dragon, struck at point-blank range, fell to the ground in a tattered heap, unable to even scream.
“Die and crawl on the ground, you lizard spawn!” Bjorn shouted from atop the giant war machine, glaring at the dragon’s shredded remains.
He seemed to have forgotten the deep-seated fear of dragons that had been ingrained in his dwarf race for generations.
Beside him, Felber, who was busy repairing the damage to the war machine with his domain’s power, shook his head. “I’ve told you countless times, you need to control that temper of yours. You could’ve taken down a few more dragons instead of wasting time with those words.”
“I was just about to do that! Realign the firing lines!”
With a rumbling sound, the hundreds of cannon barrels adjusted their aim skyward at their master’s command.
The ground trembled as a deafening noise began to emanate from within the machine, pushing its power beyond normal limits, fueled by the unique grudge passed down through the royal family.
It was a risky gamble, one that could lead to internal explosions if the machine couldn’t withstand the strain. But against thousands of dragons, there was no other choice to unleash such firepower.
The dwarf wiped his brow and pointed to the sky filled with dragons. “Fire!”
With a blinding flash, the cannons unleashed their wrath.
The firepower was on a different level than before. Wings were torn like paper, scales shattered, and bone fragments scattered in all directions.
Even the mighty dragons, who had withstood previous attacks, began to fall one by one, severely wounded.
Amidst the falling flesh and blood of their kin, the dragon army descended into chaos.
”――! ―――!”
“The war machine is still intact! How is this possible?”
“Ascend! Wear them down!”
“No, we outnumber them! Dive and attack!”
Dragons soared into the sky while others dove down, creating a chaotic melee as their massive bodies collided, obscured by the smoke and noise of the bombardment.
Though dragons were promised an endless lifespan from birth, they were not immune to the fear of death. Immortals, not bound by aging or natural death, often clung to life even more fiercely.
The relentless barrage pierced scales and skin, exploding from within and turning their insides to mush, spreading uncontrollable fear among them.
Yet, the source of that fear was not in great shape either.
The war machine’s red-hot armor plates groaned, gears and pistons screeched, and steam hissed from its joints as it neared its limits. Even Bjorn, who was resistant to heat, was sweating profusely.
As the machine reached its breaking point, Felber, standing beside Bjorn, formed a hand sign.
“Elle. Memento Elegus.”
A golden circle of light spun around the war machine, restoring its condition. It wasn’t so much cooling the heat as it was rewinding time to before the heat was generated.
But even as Felber continuously channeled golden magic to restore the machine’s functions, his expression was strained. “How long can we hold out?”
“About three times, assuming complete destruction,” Bjorn replied, scratching his beard.
“And beyond that?”
“I can’t guarantee anything.”
As if in response, one of the war machine’s ten fingers exploded with a loud bang, unable to regenerate despite the influx of golden magic. Felber clicked his tongue at the sight.
“Tsk.”
It was an expected outcome. Interfering with someone’s timeline was an incredibly delicate and difficult task. The current spell was a miracle, intervening not in a physical body but in a construct born from the realm of imagination.
Even with Felber’s innate talent, it was a power he could barely grasp after ascending to the sixth rank, having learned much from his battles with the vampire count.
‘Yet, I can’t interfere with the source of the grudge or restore the consumed energy.’
He could repair the war machine’s armor and restore its functions, but ultimately, it was powered by the grudge of Bjorn and the Kaladrakum family, a force born from their domain.
And as the overloaded machine underwent repeated damage and repair, Bjorn’s mental strength, which controlled the domain’s power, was rapidly depleting.
“Reload all cannons at maximum speed. Ignore the barrel heat.”
“Tomi, double the frequency of magical resonance.”
Yet no one stopped. Bjorn and the priest Valentino intensified the bombardment once more, and the scene of their domain unfolded over the battlefield.
“The White Blade that Pierces the Heart of Evil”
“Pure Rending Wave”
The white flames of Lucia’s sword danced with a will of their own, seeking the hearts of dragons.
“The Silent Wingbeat of the Slums”
“Black Wave White Blade: Spirit of the Stabbing Dove”
Black and white feathers coalesced into the form of a giant bird, rivaling the dragons, tearing through their ranks alongside the azure-scaled dragon Akasha.
“Complete Domain Unleashing: The Light of the Sky Reflected in the Eyes of the Hunter”
“Hunter’s Binding Formation: Enclosure”
“Hahaha! The last legacy of the Sandstorm Dynasty!”
Even Edgar, who had been drained and injured for months, rose on shaky legs, using his domain’s power to suppress the dragons’ movements.
Sensing the end, the laughing pharaoh sent the remaining beetles and statues charging forward.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A maelstrom of magical energy tore through the city, reducing buildings and ground alike to rubble. The clash of transcendent power and the dragons’ might wreaked havoc akin to a natural disaster.
In the midst of the crumbling ruins, Lucia drove her sword into a dragon’s heart, descending like a meteor.
Boom!
The scent of blood filled the air, her vision blurred. She tore apart the mystical dragon’s body with her domain’s power, staggering back to raise her sword once more.
”…Cough.”
It was a grueling battle.
Her mind and body were battered from the prolonged fight.
Despite having felled hundreds, thousands of dragons still remained.
This battlefield was on a different scale from the recent battle in the land of bloodsuckers.
Against the undead, they could hold out by stalling for time, but against the dragon army, even their full strength barely held the line.
”…”
Scraping the bottom of their reserves, they couldn’t afford a single mistake.
One slip meant death.
Everyone present agreed on that grim reality.
Yet none of them held back.
Pushing themselves beyond their limits, they crossed instinctual boundaries without hesitation.
The fact that such a precarious battle was even possible was thanks to one person who held the strongest dragons, including the dragon god, at bay.
”…Dalen.”
The warrior who was undoubtedly the strongest among them, yet never hesitated to leap into danger.
Facing impossible odds head-on, he seized the slimmest chance and turned it into a miracle.
Miracles are mere superstition until witnessed with one’s own eyes.
But no one here had missed the miraculous victories he had achieved.
In fact, their very presence on this battlefield was a result of owing their lives to those miracles.
In the sewers. In the labyrinth. On the northern battlefield. In the land of bloodsuckers.
“Ugh.”
Gripping her trembling sword arm, she forced herself to move.
As she scraped together her depleted strength, Lucia once again ignited her holy sword with the white flames of her domain.
[Grk…!]
The dragon she had just slain, its heart torn apart, opened its eyes and rose once more.
“Hah.”
Dalen exhaled heavily, smoke escaping his mouth and nose as he healed the internal injuries from repeated impacts.
[You’re incredibly persistent.]
The warrior with the white greatsword, the White Blade, muttered in exasperation before him.
[Not only did you endure without a domain, but you also took our combined attacks while still thinking of helping your comrades?]
“After getting hit a few times, it just felt like a tickle. I figured I could take a few more.”
[You don’t actually think that reviving a dragon’s corpse with necromancy makes it as strong as it was in life, do you?]
Baekgeom furrowed his brow, but Daelon remained silent.
The skill he had pushed himself to use was the S-rank skill “King of the Dead,” which he had acquired while retrieving the corpse of Daelum Jive not long ago.
As a grand necromantic ritual favored by the seventh-ranked necromancer, the second-in-command of Temomron, its synergy with the scattered dragon corpses would far surpass ordinary necromancy.
Though his proficiency was low, preventing him from fully harnessing the true power of the dragons, it would at least provide enough support for his comrades to hold their ground against the remaining dragon forces.
[No response, huh? I suppose you lack confidence in yourself.]
Of course, since the grand ritual took time to activate, there was no need to clear up any misunderstandings.
Revealing one’s hand and explaining the mechanics of their power was something only a third-rate villain in a comic would do.
Sssss…
Instead of responding, Daelon focused on circulating his dragon blood, rapidly enhancing his regenerative abilities to heal his body inside and out.
A quick glance back revealed that the dragon legion, now reduced to fewer than a thousand, was circling in the sky rather than charging recklessly.
[The corpses are rising!]
[Necromancy! There’s a high-ranking necromancer hidden among us!]
[―――!]
The echoes of panic spread. From a distance, it sounded like the relentless cawing of a murder of crows.
The way they circled the battlefield was reminiscent of crows gathering over a carcass.
The difference was that this murder of crows was bombarding the battlefield with countless spells.
Boom, boom, boom!
The indiscriminate bombardment shattered the cityscape.
More than half of the spells smashed into random buildings and streets, while the rest were deflected by a golden barrier.
The real problem was the remaining fraction. They landed steadily around the group, chipping away at their already depleted strength.
Even if they resurrected the dead dragons as meat shields, they couldn’t hold out indefinitely.
Which meant they had to end this quickly.
Just as Daelon made his decision and stepped forward with his holy sword, a voice broke the silence.
[The power of divinity, is it?]
The gray-haired boy, who had been silently observing the situation, finally spoke.
[How did you manage to grasp a power beyond your own rank?]