"Caw..." Above the clouds, the sky was an astonishing shade of blue, radiating a clear and vibrant energy. A proud golden-feathered eagle
"Caw..."
Above the clouds, the sky was an astonishing shade of blue, radiating a clear and vibrant energy. A proud golden-feathered eagle soared through the air with wings outstretched.
Beneath it, hidden within the clouds, was a vast, oppressive shadow of terror. The eagle felt both a deep curiosity to investigate and an instinctive, soul-level fear that compelled it to veer away—fleeing several kilometers into the distance.
"I don't see the Mother of Demon Dragons, but I suspect she's in the central castle at the heart of the city," Piero said after watching through his spyglass for a full quarter of an hour. He sighed with regret as he lowered it.
Then let's move out. Full attack. Burn down the main castle first, then take out the three dragons. Squad One, deal with the White Dragon. Squad Two, your target is the Blue Dragon. The rest, follow me—we'll bring down the Black Dragon!
At the docks, in an ordinary civilian house, the "White Mask" Morona awoke from her stupor. Looking toward the Dragon Queen, who sat on a high-backed chair with her chin resting on her hand in thought, she said, "They're here."
"Mhm," Dany replied, rising to her feet. "You all retreat through the sewers."
"Enemy attack!"
At the same time, above a seafaring ship, Dahei let out a deep, gruff roar.
Yes, it was spoken in Eastern Dragon tongue.
Aside from those previously notified, no one could understand it. Everyone else assumed it was just a typical draconic hiss or roar.
Inside the city, nothing changed. The grain haulers continued their work. Prisoners in the western camp, hands bound, sat on the ground listlessly under the sun.
Five minutes later—whoosh whoosh whoosh!
The sky over Torlos was suddenly covered by a black cloud. One after another, clay jars as thick as water vats plummeted from above.
"Dragons, so many dragons—uh, what's with their mouths?!"
The "Unsullied" who were transporting grain by cart heard the whistling of falling objects and felt the sudden shadow darken the skies. They halted, looked up, and froze, stunned and terrified.
These dragons were even larger than the Dragon Queen's Black Dragon—forty to fifty meters long, with wingspans over seventy meters. Their bodies soared like giant whales breaching over the sea.
And they weren't just one or two dragons—there was a whole flock. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. The smallest of them was about the same size as the thirty-meter-long Black Dragon.
But they were different. First, their colors were duller: gray-white, gray-green, green-white. Their scales lacked the luster of true dragons. Second, their mouths were not blunt like typical dragons—they resembled bird beaks, making them look more savage.
Their leathery wings were wider too, broad enough to block out the sun.
Wyverns. These were all wyverns, a swarm from the rainforests of Sothros!
"Skreeee—"
"Skreeee—"
The sky was filled with deafening dragon cries. Below, the Unsullied and Wings of Freedom stood dazed, unable to react.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooo—"
Suddenly, from the back of the leading old green wyvern came the blast of a horn, piercing the air and resounding across both sky and earth.
The sound was like a blade—cutting through the cacophony of dragon roars in an instant. It was sharp, deadly, and overwhelming.
The urgent shriek made bones rattle. The surging soundwaves drilled into ears, gripping souls tight—ripping, chewing, devouring.
Aaaaaaah—Urrrrgh—Ooooooh...
Below, the "Dragon Army" looked as if they had been struck by a soul-binding spell. Their faces twisted in fear, their bodies rigid, frozen on the spot.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
BOOOOOOOM!
The massive clay jars finally crashed down, striking the central castle. They shattered on impact, spilling fire oil, igniting white phosphorus, and unleashing rolling waves of flame in deafening explosions.
One jar, one explosion.
Each blast engulfed an entire building.
All thirty "dragons"—stronger even than Dahei—carried three to four jars apiece.
Within moments, the hundred-meter-wide central castle looked as if it were cloaked in a blazing red mantle. Flames roared. Thick black smoke rolled skyward.
Gardens, towers, fruit trees, lawns—even the fountain pools—were burning.
"Ahhhh—" Suffocated by smoke, scorched by heat, the castle's inhabitants lost all reason and burst out through the gates, flailing madly through the sea of fire.
"Hahaha, yes! Yes! Burn, burn it all!"Piero rode atop a gray-white "dragon" that matched the clouds and laughed maniacally, utterly exhilarated.
Ooooooooooo—
Even now, that soul-piercing horn had not ceased.
The thirty dragons had appeared suddenly from the west, dropped their "Version 1.0 fire oil bombs" just like the Dragon Queen had used, and immediately split into three formations as the horn continued to blare.
Five wyverns rushed toward the White Dragon in the northern part of the city. Five others swooped at the green dragon atop the Valorys family's Black Tower.
The remaining twenty strongest wyverns, led by the old green one, spread out to encircle the Black Dragon.
Ooooooooooo—
The horn blast suddenly grew ten times more terrifying. What had previously sounded like the soul-shearing winds of hell now felt like the vicious fangs of demons—venomous and shrill enough to shatter spirits.
"Ahhhh—"
Amid the pain and fury carried in the horn's howl, those frozen in place around the city staggered as if struck in the chest. Like dominos collapsing outward from the blast's epicenter, they toppled in every direction.
The shockwave followed the old green wyvern's movement, shifting its epicenter toward the docks.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"
In the sewers, the shapeshifters Morona, Bolloqu, and Gisela reacted far more violently than anyone else. They clutched their ears tightly, eyes rolling back. White smoke tinged with a charred, bloody stench began to rise from their mouths.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Outside the city of Matarys, a cat in the allied camp; three sea swallows northeast of Torlos; two cats within Torlos city; and one shrimp in the bay near the docks—
Seven animal companions. All seven bled from every orifice and died in agony on the spot.
Only Morona's golden eagle survived. After dropping hundreds of meters like a cut kite, it managed to stabilize midair and fly off, swaying but persistent—its will far stronger than that of the cats or swallows.
It had broken free from Morona's control. Though its soul was wounded, it had regained its freedom.
Bang—bang—bang! Like three brittle stalks of dried reed, the three shapeshifters collapsed stiffly to the ground. Their cries ceased, and only wisps of smoke continued to stream from their orifices.
"Dragonhorn? No… this one is ten times more powerful than Euron's 'Dragonbinder,'" Dany said gravely from the house by the docks.
Jeyne had once told her: Valyria forged three authentic Dragonhorns—Dragonbinder, Dragonjailer, and Dragonslayer.
All three could control dragons, but each had different magical properties.
Dragonjailer could punish disobedient dragons with painful blasts. Dragonslayer could outright kill rebellious or wild dragons with its sound.
Back then, Jenny had also said that the Dragonhorn was a hereditary treasure of the main family, destroyed along with the Fourteen Flames during the Great Cataclysm.
So, where did this horn come from?
Was the horn strapped to the old green dragon's back a dragon-slaying weapon—or one meant to imprison dragons?
There was no time for her to dwell on it. Twenty giant dragons had already crossed the docks and were pursuing the great black dragon as it skimmed low over the sea, heading south.
Strangely, though several times larger than Big Black, they weren't flying as fast.
And this wasn't even Big Black at full speed.
Should I ease up a little more? Dany was just thinking that when the horn's sound changed again. No longer merely stirring or ominous, it was terrifying beyond words. The sound waves felt like a tangible, invisible blade striking Big Black's head.
"Woooooooooooooooooooo—"
Even in her dragon-spirit state, Dany felt a trace of pressure.
Strange, considering that this same horn had once killed three shapeshifters instantly from afar with just its shockwaves—yet it only caused Dany a faint discomfort.
But that wasn't surprising. At this moment, Big Black was a demigod, a Dragon God empowered by the faith-pool of the Seven.
Still, Big Black pretended to be injured—shaking his head, reeling, slowing down by half, as if about to collapse from the sky.
To make room for the Dragon Legion's ships, over a thousand vessels had crowded close together on the dark blue waters beyond the docks.
Under the horn's assault, the black dragon staggered, gliding sideways over the ships.
Flying so low, he snapped seven or eight masts in the process.
That slowed him down even more.
Behind him, twenty sky-darkening dragons accelerated, converging on Big Black like twenty ominous clouds.
Oddly, even after closing within thirty meters of him, none of them breathed dragonfire.
Leaving aside magical dragons like Little White and Big Black, even a "muggle" dragon like Little Green had a dragonfire range of at least twenty meters.
"Prepare!"
Big Black, dodging a warship's mast with a tilt of his body, suddenly let out a thunderous shout that shook the heavens and echoed across the city. It was in Eastern Draconic.
His voice carried the soul-stilling power of a "True Dragon Roar," instantly dispelling the horn's influence within several kilometers.
In fact, the divine spirits of Big Black and Dany in their dragon forms had long since surpassed the soul trapped in the Dragonhorn.
The two-headed sorcerer Banny and the others on the old green dragon's back froze for a moment, but paid it no mind. They all knew Big Black was a demigod—otherwise, they wouldn't have gathered twenty dragons just to take him down.
At the same time, none of them could understand what Big Black was saying—not even Balerion. They simply assumed he was howling.
Crash!
With a sound like a storm sweeping fallen leaves, twenty-one massive wings beat fiercely. The roaring wind snapped sails, cracked masts, and flailed ropes with sharp, whipping sounds.
Right after shouting "Prepare," Big Black turned sideways like a stalling aircraft and dove straight between two ships.
Boom! A splash soared over ten meters high as the black dragon plunged into the sea. The waves he stirred rocked the ships violently on both sides.
The twenty pursuing dragons were caught in confusion and hesitation when, suddenly, on dozens of nearby ships, the smooth decks revealed brick-sized holes—wooden panels laid on the deck were flipped open.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh—
A torrent of barbed scorpion bolts shot out like water flung from a basin, striking their targets in the blink of an eye.
The twenty dragons, darkening the skies like storm clouds, became like giant magnets, attracting every fired bolt.
Over a thousand ships had empty holds filled with scorpion bolts—eight hundred scorpion ballistae had been captured from Tolos (only 300 of the original 1500 inside the city were still operational), while another 500 had been supplied by the Spear Regiment.
There were also 6,000 regular crossbows—2,000 seized during the Battle of Tolos and 4,000 transported from Qaiyuan, originally ordered by the Ghiscar Alliance from Qohor.
This was a death trap. The dragons, flying low over the sea, had blundered straight into it without a clue.
Banny had known the Dragon Queen possessed dragon-slaying ballistae—but he thought he had the element of surprise.
He assumed that as long as he kept Big Black tangled up, the Dragon Queen wouldn't dare fire into the sky.
After all, their dragons were older and tougher-skinned. Surely Big Black would die first.
Thump thump thump thump thump thump—
These were not the faint "whoosh" sounds of ordinary bolts hitting flesh, but the heavy, leathery tear of bolts piercing thick hide.
Mixed in were "riip riip" sounds of fabric—those were the barbed bolts shredding the wing membranes.
A relentless rain of seven-foot steel bolts turned the twenty dark clouds in the sky into flying pincushions.
Golden sunlight pierced through the torn wing membranes, falling along with blood onto the sails and decks below.
Awoooooooo—
The dragons wailed in agony as thick, dark-red blood sprayed through the air.
It stained the sails, the decks, and the sea itself crimson.
(End of Chapter)
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