"..." The exaggerated deanor imdiately drew eye rolls from the group of dragons.
"...It's almost like having a stirring dream," Lizrite said. She and the other dragons all felt a sense of shared glory.
Thirty-two years had passed, and the mories of Barto Hell seed distant now. But the shock and tension of nurous near-death experiences—and even one actual death—on that bloody battlefield still echoed in their hearts. Their return from hell was an experience probably more thrilling than the entire lifetis of many other dragons.
"Why is it so quiet here? I can't feel any lively natural aura at all," Shadila, a Druid, unexpectedly blurted out, deflating the dragons' mood and transporting them back to the stifling solemnity of past battlefields.
"Be on guard!" Upon hearing Shadila's words, David, who possessed the sharpest senses among the dragons, also sensed sothing amiss.
Even though Christoph had transford this swamp, originally a black dragon's nest, into the lava-filled Dewensen Valley, there should at least have been lava worms present. They were like plankton on the surface of the water. As long as the environnt possessed the most basic Magic Power, they could gnaw on inorganic materials and even minerals from the ground to synthesize their survival needs. They could live in all sorts of extre environnts, eventually becoming readily available, high-calorie snacks for hatchlings.
But at this mont, David couldn't even sense the presence of a single lava worm.
That could only an one possibility.
"Damn it... an Anti-Magic Field! We have to leave here, imdiately!"
Only within such a field would it be impossible for lava worms to perform the basic magical transmutation for bioenergetic synthesis. It was similar to how sunlight, if passed through a specially synthesized filter, would be greatly hindered from facilitating photosynthesis in plants, thereby preventing their growth.
And the only ones idle enough to pull off such a thing would be...
The High Elves.
These High Elves had not only trapped the old Red Dragon Christoph in the Gloomy Region but, apparently, were also fed up with the repeated counterattacks from Tania and her hired dragons. So, they had gone to great lengths to 'block' this 'abandoned' Dragon Nest as well.
This was probably because the old dragon Christoph, having been taunted by David in the past, had ordered the entire Dragon Nest to be transford. After the dragon left, the mountains on both sides were blasted. Unless these High Elves could bring out hundreds of large excavators, finding and destroying a 'possible' long-range Teleportation Circle amidst such a vast layer of rubble would be too ti-consuming and laborious. It was simpler to just create an Anti-Magic Field.
Without magic, the dragons' innate 'Magician' professions were rendered useless, and their threat level plumted.
But just as David and the others beca suddenly alert and took flight, they heard the whistling sound of sothing tearing through the air.
Looking up, they saw countless 'stars' twinkling in the clear blue sky.
David's pupils contracted sharply.
No, those weren't stars, but bolts from Siege Crossbows designed specifically to target Dragonkin and even true Dragons!
It wasn't until that mont, flying highest of them all, that David saw an army of High Elves rapidly converging from all directions in the mountains. They were pushing rows of heavy crossbows into positions designated by their commanders, stripping away camouflage, and arming their weapons.
In an instant, countless crossbow bolts sparkled under an unnatural magical light. As the army's horn sounded again, the thunderous twang of crossbow strings began like the opening of an evening symphony.
Volleys of bolts tore through the clear blue sky like silver teor showers arriving from all directions. Each bolt left a silver-white trail in the air as they rained down relentlessly towards David and his companions.
Damn it, that old dragon Christoph really screwed us over!
Wrath
Getting outwitted by the High Elves was one thing, but Christoph, that old dragon, bore the primary responsibility for this predicant. He hadn't even left a backup plan before departing. The Teleportation Circle from Barto Hell to Elariya had shown no anomalies upon self-check. David had initially assud that the Dragonkin Christoph had left to guard The Dark Mountains had set up a new one. Instead, it turned out the High Elves had exploited the existing one.
If it weren't for Christoph being his definite blood ancestor, David would have wondered if this teammate of questionable intelligence was actually colluding with the High Elves.
The other dragons, too, were wide-eyed with surprise and anger, letting out low, furious roars.
At such a distance, there was no ti for evasive action. Mofei, the dim-witted White Dragon, panicked like a frightened wildcat, wanting to bury his head and dive back into the hole they had just erged from to avoid the barrage of bolts.
"Co back! Fly up into the clouds! Brace through it with Dragon Breath!" David commanded.
The band of High Elves clearly hadn't expected this. After guarding this desolate mountain for over a decade without so much as a hair of trouble appearing, they were suddenly confronted by seven dragons. They reacted as if facing a formidable enemy.
If the dragons followed their instincts and fell back to defend the Dragon Nest in the valley, they would only be surrounded and annihilated—like dumplings being wrapped—once High Elf reinforcents assembled. Moreover, David was sure that the legendary powerhouses located in Skanis were also rushing over upon hearing the news. By that ti, they would probably all be packed off to Dewensen as 'guests.'
For a mont, the dragons flapped their wings, stirring up a chaotic hurricane and issuing deafening roars. The next instant, David, Tania, Mofei the White Dragon, Lizrite the Red Dragon, Shadila the Green Dragon, and even the Black Dragon siblings Alfonse and his sister, flew back-to-back. Suspended in mid-air, they spewed forth Dragon Breath of four different colors in all directions, annihilating most of the lethal first volley of crossbow bolts. The spectacle was so awe-inspiring that the High Elves' crossbow assault faltered for a mont, an unnatural pause in their attack.
"Don't stop! Close in and shoot! Push these damned lizards back!"
Even from far away, David heard a commander's voice, filled with a mix of anger and grim determination.
Clearly, in the years David had been away, his younger sister Tania, leading the dragons she had recruited at great expense, had caused these High Elves no end of trouble. The re sight of dragons now seed to send the Elves into a frenzy.
Dragon Breath, the dragons' most formidable ranged weapon, was not inexhaustible. Maintaining it at full power was only possible for the duration of a long exhalation.
Mofei, the weakest and youngest White Dragon, was the first to falter. Almost as soon as he stopped spewing his breath, several crossbow bolts slamd into him, piercing his Dragon Scales. One particularly devious bolt nearly severed the young, not-yet-adult White Dragon's tail in two.
"AH! My tail!!!" His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
If that bolt had been a few centiters higher, it might have shot right through his still-developing cloaca.
Back in Katjana, the weapons used against David had only been bows and arrows. Now, these were Siege Crossbows capable of penetrating city gates.
Next to run out of breath were Alfonse and his sister, then Shadila the Green Dragon, followed by Lizrite, Tania, and finally David.
The mont their Dragon Breath began to deplete, they resorted to their claws and tails. David even pulled out the Book of the Dragon from his silver-scale breastplate and swung it like a teor Hamr, the weapon whirling through the air with a continuous clang of striking tal.
The occasional bolt that slipped past their defenses was mostly blocked by the silver-scale breastplate, a gift from his dragon father, Attilicia. The defense afforded by its multiple layers of Silver Dragon scales was outrageously robust. Bolts that would have passed clean through other dragons could only barely penetrate with their tips when they struck David or his sister, losing montum in the layer of fat beneath their scales.
At that mont, their combat training from Barto Hell showed its effectiveness; despite being struck by successive bolts, none of them panicked or tried to dodge erratically. For they all understood a crucial principle from their many battlefield experiences: facing injuries one could anticipate was entirely different from being struck by an unseen attack from the rear. The outcos were vastly different.
Suddenly, this group of Chromatic Dragons, accustod to fighting on their own, displayed a semblance of the tal Dragons' Claw of Justice. Thɪs chapter is updated by novｅlfire
However, David, this Red Dragon, had never been one to passively endure attacks. Even though the current situation demanded an imdiate strategic retreat, and regardless of how many bolts pierced his body, his fury-filled eyes remained fixed on the High Elf lines. They were persistently advancing with their siege weapons towards the cliffs encircling the Dewensen Valley.
Just as they were about to fly out of the High Elves' crossbow range, under their frustrated gazes, a ferocious smile finally spread across David's lips.
The anger that had been building inside him erupted at that mont.
Bloodscale Fury
Wrath*74
Authority—Wrath
"ROAR!!!!"
A sonorous dragon's roar echoed throughout the entire Dewensen Valley.
The next mont, the eyes of the High Elf vanguard, who had advanced their lines almost to the cliff's edge, simultaneously flooded with a violent, crimson light.
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