Round Forty-Three: The Dragon Swarm

In those foolish legends passed around by hearths and taverns, there often appear fearless knights who can command dragons, riding them into battle with spears in hand. They are the dream lovers of all young girls—yet in reality, there are only two possibilities: either those on the dragon backs are not foolish knights at all, or what they ride is not a dragon at all.
Only the most powerful beings can command dragons—creatures whose strength and mind far exceed mortal imagination—and usually at great risk.
The white dragons continued to circle above the fortress, using their icy breaths and sharp claws as the most deadly vanguard in this army of monsters. Dailuo held his wooden staff, doing nothing else, his grayish hair slightly disheveled by the wind, his deep eyes fixed on the battlefield of ice and fire before him. The archmage maintained a massive amount of magic power sufficient to override the will of the summoned dragons. This legendary summoning spell cared neither about whether the dragons were multicolored or metallic, nor about the consequences of forcing them to help—it only required the newcomers to be as strong as possible. Thus, he didn’t even try to assist the defenders fighting below, focusing instead all his remaining energy on preparing for the difficult negotiations to come.
The first “dragon ally” to arrive caused Dailuo quite a bit of trouble.
“Ahah… I’ve heard of you, a mage worth paying attention to.”
The massive creature covered in deep red scales, emitting a strong sulfur smell and the heat from its melting frost, landed on top of the crystal tower after folding its wings. It glanced disdainfully at the swarm of white dragons flying around and showed slight interest in the brutal battlefield.
“It seems you need my help. So what price are you willing to pay? This pretty little mage tower?” The red dragon bent its thick neck, lowering its head—covered in curved horns, almost as big as a pony, and full of scars—to level with the balcony. Its lava-ball-like eyes reflected Dailuo’s blurred silhouette. “I might consider it… I suppose its fragments could be used to decorate my palace.”
“Klaus!” Faced with the greediest of all dragons, the red dragon, Dailuo did not back down. He directly called out the name of this powerful northern red dragon and poured surging magical power into its mind. “This is not a request—obey me! Help us drive back these invaders!”
Klaus let out an angry roar that shook the entire fortress. It took off into the air, its enormous wings with blue-gray edges stirring up fierce winds, its claws leaving long scratches on the crystal tower. Scorching flames erupted from its jaws, enraged by Dailuo’s defiance—but the archmage’s power bound it. After struggling for a while, the red dragon reluctantly agreed to cooperate in anger.
“You will pay for this, mage!” The white dragons became the target of Klaus’s wrath. He spat out a blast of flame a hundred times more intense than a fireball, engulfing an old white dragon that flew past him, then charged headfirst into the sea of fire he had created.

The reinforcements that arrived next were two metal dragons, which gave Dailuo a slight sigh of relief—he wasn’t entirely sure he could control another dragon as powerful as Klaus by force.
“What kind of being could create such evil?”
The elegantly stunning silver dragon strode through the mist it brought with it, a mist that not even the icy winds could disperse. Its noble and perfect form shone with a silver glow in the mist, making it appear like a statue made entirely of silver: “No wonder you called me so urgently… Red Dragon Klaus! Mage, did you really seek the help of the evil red dragon as well?”
Fortunately, the brass dragon that came with her distracted the silver dragon with an extremely exaggerated scream: “Aaaaaah! Since when do the white dragons also reproduce recklessly like goblins, sending entire families out in droves?”
“Lord Abazig!” The silver dragon was clearly annoyed by the brass dragon’s overreaction: “Can’t you use your wisdom where it’s needed?”
Abazig, who hadn’t been seen for a long time, curled his lips—a strange gesture for a dragon. He crouched in the spot Klaus had occupied earlier and looked around: “You’re too sensitive, noble Lady Dinisa… Aaaaaah! Who is that? It seems like a familiar little girl!”
The brass dragon leaped down, and a strong metallic scent immediately spread through the air. Silver Dragon Dinisa glanced warily at the red dragon spreading fire and death above the ice field before stopping further questioning the archmage—instead, she followed Abazig, riding through the mist to join the battle.
Three ancient dragons’ footsteps…
It seemed there was another dragon.
Dailuo hesitated for a moment. The magical pathway created by the “Oath of Dragons” connected him to the responder in the distance, and the archmage could sense the resonance of power coming from across space… It was strange, but extraordinarily powerful.
Forcing the summoning of legendary ancient dragons already carried great risk. The more of them that appeared, the more exponentially that risk increased—who knew if what came next would be an even more cruel and ferocious dragon than the Scarred Red Dragon Klaus?
But there was no time to interrupt the spell now. Controlling Klaus already had cost him a considerable amount of magic power. If he forced the spell to function abnormally again, it might cause further complications.
So, a fourth dragon soon appeared under the gray and gloomy sky in the distance. It was a swirling mass of thunderous lightning and flames—moving at an unimaginable speed.

Morril stood on the wall’s edge, risking being struck by flying stones or icy breaths, concentrating to unleash all the power of his wand. Grayish-black magical energy flowed like an endless stream into the massive, lifeless body below the city, infusing it with false vitality. The frost giant staggered to its feet, its head reduced to half by the disintegration rays, its lifeless eyes devoid of any expression. The revived corpse lacked its former ferocity and cruelty, but it could at least cause trouble for the attackers with its emotionless persistence. The female mage simply ordered it to attack anything that moved around it, then discarded her once-expensive wand, now as useless as a small stick, and drew another.

Above, the dragon’s roars sounded like thunder, and its flames fell like rain. A burning scale landed on Morril’s shoulder; it failed to ignite her enchanted robe but scorched a strand of her hair. The female mage hurriedly flicked out the flame and looked up, only to be delighted by the rapidly approaching, roaring flames.

The creature in the thunderclouds spread its enormous iron wings. Turbine engines hidden among its scaled spikes spun at full speed, generating hot air currents that rubbed against the cold wind, producing intense discharges.

A white dragon, which happened to be in the way of this fully metallic monster, tried to rise and spewed a deadly blast of cold air mixed with ice shards—but it was useless. The steel dragon swept beneath the white dragon’s belly before it could retreat to safety.

Massive amounts of dragon blood gushed from the horrible wounds caused by the dragon’s iron claws, splattering across half of the wall as the white dragon thrashed in agony. If the legend that dragon blood made one invulnerable to weapons was true, then those below could set out to conquer the world.

The dragon crashed down onto the city wall, crushing several frost lizards under its spines and turning its head to bite a frost wraith mid-leap. Cracks echoed between its steel teeth and jaws and its hard, icy body, like a child greedily chewing on a mouthful of rock sugar.

Intense, cold flames burst forth, almost covering the entire dragon’s head. The bitten frost wraith struggled desperately with its vicious claws, exerting such force that it managed to tear through the unbreakable steel jaws of the dragon. The dragon spat it out, and almost immediately, its fiery breath swallowed the wraith—the intense heat wave swept everything in its path, causing explosions and melting, spreading even to the plains below, where huge fires broke out.

The black fire continued to spread across the dragon’s body, but this signature evil fire, capable of withering even the strongest warriors, was no match for the claws of a frost wraith against a dragon made of metal. The steel dragon shook its head, proudly admiring the hellish scene it had created.

“Stop showing off! Go eliminate those frost giants!” Morril shouted at it.

The blue-skinned giants were swinging hammers forged from ice to smash the walls of the Icewind Fortress, each strike causing large chunks of stone mixed with ice shards to tumble down.

The Iron Dragon roared downward, driving the ice demon bats around it away like flies. As it dived, it changed shape, and by the time it completed the transformation, it was standing right on top of the Wall Smasher. Among all the descendants of giants, the Frost Giant, known for its immense strength, was as fragile as a baby beneath it—like a novice who had just left the warrior academy facing an enhanced version of an Iron Golem. The Frost Giant was crushed into the pit it had created on the wall, while 47 leaped up amid the sound of its bones breaking. His right arm, aimed straight ahead, held a massive cannon whose menacing surface reflected the flames… Amidst the loud explosions and smoke, the Frost Giant hit by the dual-shot was nearly reduced to fragments. Even the area where it once stood was destroyed by a single blast, and its surrounding winter wolves were torn to pieces—what a shame about all those fine furs. The recoil from the heavy arm cannon caused the Constructed Giant to tilt upward mid-air, just in time to flip over another Frost Giant charging at it. 47 then delivered a hook punch to its ribs from behind. The Frost Giant, weighing over seven thousand pounds, was sent flying by this strike and was immediately cut in two by the rotating chainsaw on his iron fist amidst the mechanical roars that had become the soundtrack of the battlefield. “Who is that? Who is that?” Abazig, the brass dragon, stood on the wall in the form of a withered old man, looking on with excitement. He had just cast a “Barrier Against Undead Creatures” on himself and the warriors capable of fighting against the Frost Wraiths, and then used a magical field to temporarily trap the Empty Shadow, which kept creating more wraiths, thus alleviating the immediate crisis. After that, he started to get distracted: “I feel like I’ve seen him before! With my excellent memory, how could I possibly forget?” The Empty Shadow, which was the first to reach the wall, unleashed a black withering fire ring to drive back Chloe and Jane, who had hit it several times, which weakened its terrifying form significantly. No matter how hard it tried to hide its presence from these two, it couldn’t launch a surprise attack—whether by moving through the ground and walls or creating magic darkness invisible to the eye. But before it could change position, several boiling fire walls surrounded it, and fire elements jumping out of the walls pounced on it, clinging tightly. As soon as the Empty Shadow broke through the fire walls, it was met with a barrage of magical beams—finally unable to withstand it, it exploded into drifting black smoke, leaving only some silent, icy ashes. Since they hadn’t expected such powerful undead creatures, even with Hinb, Chloe, Jane, and the others working together, it was quite difficult to eliminate them. “It’s 47, your esteemed Lord Abago!” Although Milia had never actually seen 47 in his giant form, she had already experienced too many surprises brought about by this guy: “But let’s talk about these things after the battle is over!” “Oh? It’s that metal kid… Hey! I’m Abazig!” The robe on the brass dragon flapped in the wind as it stretched out into giant wings once again—heading toward the group of white dragons surrounding the red dragon and the silver dragon.

The other Empty Shadow immediately retreated after breaking free from the force-field prison that held it captive. Even affected by the howling ice winds, the cunning of this immortal wraith far surpassed that of other monsters.
Soon, the last Frost Giant was also knocked down by 47, just as easily as felling a tree. A Frost Giant army capable of easily destroying an entire city was no better than a herd of sheep waiting to be slaughtered in front of him—they weren’t even worth causing him much trouble. Even though both sides relied on their physical strength, the gap between a heavyweight champion and a terminator was still stark.
For him, it was a battle that was both astonishing and unsurprisingly straightforward.
The remaining White Dragons flew away, signaling yet another failed attack on the Ice Wind Fortress.
Still eager for more, 47 landed beside Moriel, returning to a nearly normal human size.
“Where have you been wandering off to again?” Moriel glanced at him—well, this fool seemed to be in high spirits.
“That’s a long story,” 47 said, shrugging and looking up at the three ancient dragons in the sky.
Abazig and Dinisa quickly descended. Even though they had suffered some damage in battle, it was completely invisible in their human forms. The Silver Dragon transformed into a graceful blond woman wearing a silver sleeveless robe, her skin as white as snow, enough to make countless noble ladies envious. Her gaze remained fixed on the Red Dragon Klaus; the Brass Dragon still appeared as an old man with a sallow complexion. As soon as he landed, he strode toward 47: “So you’re the construct I saw in the Desert of Noise? I really need to rethink my opinion of you. Come on, show me again…”
47 kicked up a serrated greatsword and hurled it at Abazig, with a severed hand still firmly gripping the hilt. “Wanted a two-handed sword like this all along? Here, now you can pick as many as you want and take them home!”
Only Klaus remained in his dragon form. He landed on a half-destroyed tower collapsed by Frost Giant stones, surrounded by a faint glow of magical protection. His stone-like skin covered his entire body, and his long tail curled all the way to the ground. “Ahah… another formidable opponent.”
The Red Dragon lowered his scarred head. His terrifying appearance, combined with his deep, abyssal eyes, actually gave off an air of wisdom. “Though I don’t consider you a dragon, I also don’t think you’re just a simple construct. So… mighty steel warrior, why do you associate with these weak and contemptible humans?”
“It’s those ‘weak and contemptible’ humans who left scars on your face, and it’s they who are now binding you, forcing you to serve them,” retorted the Silver Dragon Dinisa, showing no respect for her kind—perhaps she didn’t even consider the Red Dragon her own kind.
Klaus’s lips twitched, but he ultimately tolerated the insult. “Hmph. You might as well get even closer to humans, Silver Dragon. After all, stupidity knows no bounds.”

“After seeing your pitiful resistance just now, I’m actually quite interested in waiting here.” The red dragon flew to the highest point of the fortress and curled up. “It won’t be long before I witness the complete destruction of this little castle… I think it will be a pleasant memory worth recalling.”
“Though every word spoken by that ‘old troublemaker’ red dragon is filled with evil… given the current situation, you have to admit his prophecy is very likely to come true.” In the reception room of the Crystal Tower, the silver dragon Dinisa spoke bluntly.
“That’s right. Even the ‘Shadow of the Void’ has appeared… Who knows if more will show up next time? What else might there be?” Xinbu said with a grim expression. “There’s no other way now. We must do everything we can to find it; otherwise, even if we win in the end, the entire continent will suffer unbearable disasters due to these monsters.”
Dailuo remained silent for a while before looking at Moriel. From their last experience, it was clear this was a life-threatening adventure for her.
Moriel thought for a moment before turning to look at 47 beside her.
“Then let’s hurry up.” Soon, the female mage said indifferently. “It’ll be troublesome if the next attack comes.”
“Where are you going?” 47 suddenly raised his head. “What are you looking for? I happened to go to an interesting place while chasing ‘Kerry,’ but before I could enjoy it enough, some jerk’s voice called me back… By the way, can anyone tell me who that jerk is?”
Obviously, no one wanted to answer him.
Moriel pulled her hand away from 47’s chest.
This spell forpeekinging into others’ experiences should normally involve pressing one’s hand on the subject’s head—now Moriel was certain that 47 would never use his brain, not in the past, present, or future.
Dailuo, Xinbu, and the others also saw what Moriel showed them through the mental link, and their expressions changed.
“Can you still find that place?” Xinbu asked seriously.
“Who knows,” 47 shrugged. “Maybe.”
“No, we can’t just go there like that.” Dailuo shook her head. “Perhaps it’s tolerable for… for Moriel’s steel warriors, but even you, Archmage Xinbu, would have your power severely weakened if you entered there.”
“No problem, I can go by myself…” 47 stopped speaking as Moriel secretly kicked him hard. Why show off?
“To fight against the evil there, we can ask for the help of the Lord of Glory,” Zhen said coldly from the side. “With the combined power of me, Milia, and Fiona, we might be able to obtain extraordinary divine grace to resist. But… we need at least a temporary temple.”
“What are you looking at? Do I look like a temporary temple?” 47 glared at Fiona, while Milia grabbed her hand.
“So we need a means of transportation?” The archmage frowned. “The Crystal Tower can no longer be moved, and enough defensive forces must be left at the fortress… As for transportation…”
A warrior from the Ice Knight Order stood at the door and knocked on the frame.

He looked strangely nervous: “I’m sorry to disturb you. But Master Dai Ruo… I think it would be best if you came and took a look.”