From the initial infiltration to the intense battle that followed, the Olivalyres clan alone had already lost nearly half its mbers, and the remaining Mana Energy of the Blue Dragons was similarly dwindling.
The Tokamak Fortress had been largely restored under the power of David’s "Arrogance." However, the repositioned Blue Dragons still couldn’t fill all the key ’charging nodes.’ As a result, the Fusion Energy Core device remained inactive.
This was a preditated, fiercely targeted assault!
Just like the backstabbing in the Battle of Dragonfall thirty thousand years ago.
And this was characteristic of the Elves, consistent with their style: they remained still until they struck, and when they did, it was a lethal blow.
THWACK!
Brule had instinctively twisted his body upon hearing the sound of sothing slicing through the air. Yet, he still felt a chill in his chest as a magic crossbow bolt pierced straight through his right ribs, protruding from the mbrane of his right wing and lodging in his elbow joint.
The entire Dragon, much like a glider hit by gunfire, inevitably veered off course before plumting toward the center of the battlefield.
It’s over, it’s all over!
Seeing the Frost Giants eyeing him with fierce and cruel gazes, Brule felt his leg muscles cramp.
He panicked instantly.
Just as he was about to unleash his Dragon Breath with all his might, like that old codger Patrice, he saw a crimson shadow, like a large cheetah, zigzag through half the battlefield. It dodged the Giants’ heavy interceptions and pounced on a Frost Titan poised to throw, sending the Titan stumbling.
As it flipped in mid-air, its claws raked across the Giant’s face, leaving two gashes so deep the bone was visible.
The Giant, instantly blinded, clutched its bleeding face and let out an agonizing howl.
Brule was shocked by the newcor’s ferocity; he even thought his boss, David, had co to rescue him personally.
"Davi—" He caught sight of the figure’s terrifyingly fluid muscle lines—it was a female. His eyelids twitched.
"...Miss Lizrite! Thank you for your aid!"
"No ti for chitchat! David is summoning you all!"
"But my wing..." Brule had thought she would carry him across the battlefield.
"Just endure it."
"Huh?" Before Brule could react, Lizrite, the Red Dragon mother with her "Bloodscale Fury" fully active, flung him high into the air as if swatting him with the tail of a salted fish.
Just as gravity began to pull him down, Brule saw the Red Dragon mother’s gaping maw and the boiling, raging flas within her throat...
He imdiately had a bad feeling.
"No! AHH!!!"
The next mont, Brule, instinctively curled up, shot into the sky like a cannonball once more.
But Lizrite’s blast of Dragon Breath clearly wasn’t enough to send him flying completely across the battlefield.
As the Giants’ throwing spears once again ca hurtling toward him, Brule inexplicably felt a pang of sympathy for David.
Having such an enthusiastic, headstrong Red Dragon for a wife... his nights must be quite eventful...
But I’m about to get myself killed by all this recklessness!!!
Just as Brule, vowing to never mate with a Red Dragon, resigned himself to dying on the battlefield, CLANG! CLANG! Two sharp sounds of tal striking tal rang out.
The deadly ice spears shattered on impact.
He saw a Silver Dragon descending, wielding two massive, crescent-moon-like weapons. It blocked the spears, but the sheer inertia of the Giants’ throw sent it reeling backward.
Brule finally got a clear look at the newcor and recognized him. Wasn’t this the Silver Dragon Martial Monk who kicked Patricio’s ass? What was his na again?
"Sebriz?"
He saw Sebriz, head tilted back as he flew past, grinning at him.
"Hey there, Blue Dragon brother! Those purple scales are pretty damn flashy."
Brule imdiately felt a tightening in his chest and his cloaca. Before he could respond, he saw this fellow, just like Lizrite, use Dragon Breath to give him a boost. He began to wail,
"NO!!!"
Amidst a flash of ice, experiencing both fire and frost, Brule, propelled by this Dragon Breath relay, finally crash-landed on the edge of the Tokamak Fortress, which stood outside the much-expanded Montero Ore Town.
But Sebriz’s pathetic breath was utterly second-rate compared to the furious Red Dragon Lizrite’s. Brule was about to fall into the densest cluster of Giants outside the fortress wall, his entire dragon-head numb with dread.
Luckily for him—or perhaps because his kin, under David’s orders, were mounting an all-out rescue for the Blue Dragons—Brule, just as he was about to fall into the Giants’ midst, had his tattered wings grabbed by two tal Dragons, one gold, one silver.
While swinging their tails to fend off the Giants’ projectiles, they painstakingly dragged him toward the fortress interior. Brule was moved to tears.
"Thanks a lot! You two tal Dragon brothers, I still don’t know your nas! I’ll treat you to so grilled fish later!"
tal Dragons are truly gentle and attentive! he wailed internally.
Little did he know that the two dragons from Dragon Island grimaced at the re ntion of ’fish’.
"Erickson, Bahamut’s sacred guardian," one announced.
"Dackles, of Dragon Island’s Just Claw Guard, Personal Guard of Alicia," said the other.
"Don’t ntion it!"
"Hurry up and report below!"
The two tal Dragons, speaking rapidly in their haste, then threw Brule—the Blue Dragon who had just been moved to tears—straight towards Tokamak’s ’charging port’.
"I..." As Brule free-fell toward the fortress, he saw a legendary Elf wielding dual blades rocketing towards him. But by then, having already ridden a roller-coaster of life-and-death experiences, Brule was completely numb.
After all, dragons would protect him.
To ensure Tokamak’s operation, he, Brule, was certainly getting the ’protagonist treatnt’ from so bard’s tale today.
As long as he survived today’s ordeal, any future ballad recounting this legendary battle would surely have a verse about him, Brule.
Sure enough, just as the Chosen of God Elf’s twin blades were about to reach his neck, David, shimring with pale blue electric rings, personally intercepted them.
DING!
Empowered by his father Attilicia’s legacy arcane, "Thunder Guard," Leopold, the Chosen of The Wandering God, was shocked to find himself repelled as if by an invisible force field. Struck by a surge of countless amperes, he was immobilized.
Only David, the transmigrant, knew what this truly resembled:
AT Field, full power!
In that mont, he was like an apostle descended from the divine. A fierce smile spread across his face as he looked down upon the Elf Chosen who had repeatedly co to trouble him.
"I’ve been annoyed with you for a long ti."
"Die!"
"Insect."
Then, to the disbelief of all Elves watching, he swatted the Chosen like a fly. With a clap of his claws and a twist, nothing was left but crimson blood plasma dripping down his draconic talons.
David, as if still not satisfied, raised the remains high with one claw, threw back his head, extended his tongue, and greedily drank the enemy’s spilled blood as if it were sweet nectar.
Then, as if wringing out the very last drop, he tossed the mangled remains aside like garbage.
It was as if he had ground the bones to dust and scattered the ashes.
"Gluttony"
This act was undoubtedly a public humiliation for all Elves.
"Leopold!"
At the sa ti, the sky rumbled with thunder, and on the distant coastal horizon, a miasmic green luminescence began to condense.
Their Chosen of God had fallen in battle; Feimar, The Wandering God, was incensed.
But just as all the Elves thought divine punishnt was imminent,
a crimson light, far mightier than the god’s wrath, surged up from the desert depths behind Tokamak Fortress.
It was the apparition of the Evil Scale Fortress: a thousand rune-inscribed stone pillars pierced the sky, emitting endless beams of profane light.
And upon the walls of the Evil Scale Fortress, the headless divine body of the Decayed Dragon God silently gazed upon the scene.
Higher still, in the celestial plane, the golden Warrior’s Rest also manifested. From within the enemy Divine Realm, Pafila, the Goddess of Strength, revealed a crimson eye high above, as vast as a red giant star. A voice bood:
"Scram."
The gathering green divine power above the sea hesitated for a mont, then simply hung there, awkwardly.
To descend now was impossible; to flee would be even more shaful.
The situation beca exceedingly awkward.
It was reminiscent of Tiamat’s deterrence of the Giant god-lineages long ago.
This was a battle of the material realm. But if you wish for war, then war it shall be.
Stribe, the dismbered Storm Giant God, served as a stark warning.
The Elven pantheon was not yet ready to wage war against both the Spider Goddess’s faction and the Dragon Gods simultaneously.
But Pafila, still on the front lines in the War God’s Divine Realm, seed utterly unconcerned by this, nor by the number of her enemies.
What she cared about, in this entire world... she had only one son, David.
A child who knew her, understood her as if a kindred spirit, and who had once saved her when she was lost.
For David, she wouldn’t hesitate to declare war on the entire world.
And so, the Elven pantheon retreated.
The Dragon’s Rage had not yet arrived; the opportune mont for general war had not co.
But David’s mont...
Had arrived.
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