Stop it from flying and breathing fire. If you seal those two abilities, the rest is relatively easy, Sylas had instructed.
A dragon's flas have limits in both quantity and frequency. Knowing this, dragons usually try close combat first, resorting to flight and fla only if necessary. Therefore, Sylas had insisted that the soldiers keep the dragon grounded during close combat at all costs.
Fortunately, the soldiers were following the lord's strategy effectively. Inspired by the superhuman warrior's feats, they reacted quickly to instructions, even as they trembled in fear. As a result, the dragon was forced to remain on the ground, stomping furiously.
The units led by Rey and Ragnar maintained their positions similarly to Toby's.
"Shoot anything you have—arrows, javelins, it doesn't matter! If the wings move, aim and throw!"
"Do not fear the flas! I'll protect you—attack from behind!"
Ragnar and Rey's commands echoed around them. Things seed to be going well on their end, too. There was no need to kill the dragon; they only needed to keep it under control.
The lord is here, after all, Toby thought, glancing in Sylas's direction. He sighed wryly, still finding it hard to understand what went on in Sylas's mind. At least he found comfort in the fact that Sylas was a normal human in terms of sheer power—yet now even that had changed.
"…Now, even his strength has beco monstrous," Toby murmured. Sylas was overwhelming the most powerful dragon with ease.
Kill the dragon.
An unending urge surged from within Sylas's chest, overwhelming him with foreign emotions and mories he'd never experienced before. It was a feeling of becoming soone else.
Frankly, it was unpleasant. Had that been all, he would have shouted at it to go away. But at this mont, Sylas welcod the impulse.
I can see it.
He could see the techniques engraved in the body of Leonik, the emotions he felt while creating his sword style, and, most of all, the battle experience contained in those mories.
As they blended within him, Sylas beca what this impulse desired: a true dragonslayer.
"Good," he said.
The dragon let out a deafening roar, and Sylas swung his sword toward it. Leonik's voice whispered in his mory, Don't just strike down. Move your body as if you're carving.
Sylas followed the whisper without hesitation.
A whirlwind of sword energy swirled around the dragon's neck. Though it didn't reach the bone, it was no minor wound. With more power, he could've—
No, that's not it.
Ignoring the whisper this ti, Sylas knew he'd used the optimal amount of power with his current body. Pushing beyond that would bring backlash.
Sorry, but I'll take only what's useful.
In his first awakening, he had only received mories and techniques. The second ti, his body couldn't handle the power and suffered injuries. Now, this was his third—and he knew there would be no fourth. In this age, with dragons so rare, this was his last chance. He had to absorb everything essential.
"So, give more mories," he commanded.
The mories surged forth, guiding him to movents that would extract maximum efficiency with minimum force. Replicating the motions he saw in his mind, Sylas kicked off the ground.
Sword energy sliced across the dragon's entire body, leaving it drenched in blood. The wings, neck, legs, belly, and back—all were wounded as Sylas's sword left a mark each ti it struck.
What had started as a fight gradually beca a one-sided spectacle.
The knights and soldiers watched in stunned silence. They had co to support Sylas, yet they now realized they could do nothing.
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If I get close, I'll die, they thought, not from the dragon, but from Sylas's lethal strikes tearing it apart. Seeing that the knights were rooted in place, Sylas stepped back and called out.
"Hey."
"Y-Yes?"
"It doesn't look like I need support here. Go help Bjorn."
"O-Of course."
There was no hesitation to question the safety of Bjorn's situation or to raise concerns about the chain of command. They simply felt compelled to obey Sylas's command, as if driven by instinct. Imdiately, the knight shouted to the soldiers.
"Move! We're going to support Lord Bjorn!"
"Yes, sir!"
At his command, the soldiers began to move. As he broke his gaze from the legendary battle before him, the knight assessed the current situation.
At this rate, Lord Sylas will surely win. And with the other commanders, we'll defeat them with minimal losses.
His power was terrifying, even to the point of fear, but as an ally, it was incredibly reassuring. The knight silently celebrated, having prepared himself for heavy losses, when a soldier shouted.
"The dragon! It's taking off!"
"What?!"
The knight exclaid instinctively, turning to see the dragon rising into the sky. Sylas's warning echoed in his mind.
Keep it from flying and breathing fire.
Seeing the dragon climb beyond the reach of their attacks, the knight's face turned pale.
"This is insane!"
The knight swore instinctively. The dragon had taken to the skies, and it was more than just a matter of being out of reach. The biggest problem was that they couldn't predict where it would strike next.
"Arrows, no—any ranged weapons! Catapults, ballistae! Bring everything you've got! We have to bring it down!" he shouted desperately. If the dragon entered the castle and set the territory ablaze, or joined forces with another dragon, it would be a catastrophe.
In the worst case, even if they won, the damage would be so extensive that victory would feel like defeat.
"We have to stop it! Bring it down at all costs!"
"But… we don't have any way to—"
The dragon roared, its head rearing back. A telltale sign of impending fire.
"Get back!" soone shouted.
With a blast, flas swept over the soldiers. They scattered to the sides, but a few were caught and burned. Their screams filled the air as they lted away in the inferno. Only Bjorn remained unscathed.
"Damn it…"
Bjorn gritted his teeth. Without a superhuman warrior in his unit, he had known it would be hard to keep the dragon grounded. But this had happened faster than he'd expected.
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