Bear School Astartes

Chapter 920 - 902: White Dragon King

The mindless cleric, torn into two parts by the Church Knight’s greatsword, was still bleeding on the ground, twitching and struggling.

The sound of slapping the ground echoed, ’pa, pa’.

But soon after, the Church Knight who had split him also fell to the ground with a thud, his tall and strong body encased in heavy armor.

No other wounds were visible, just the lower edge of the upturned barrel-like helmet linked to the neck of his breastplate, from which blood spurted rhythmically with the heartbeat, ’pfft, pfft’.

Church Knights were formidable warriors.

This was something Lann acknowledged.

But when Rong Buqiu misaligned the observation hole of his helmet with his eyes, the warrior who lost sight suddenly seemed much less threatening.

At the time, he tried to grab the little cat perched on his shoulder, clawing at his helmet.

However, Lann promptly moved forward, first grabbing the wrist of his swordless hand.

Then, his boot stepped on the wide Church Knight’s greatsword.

He then simply thrust Aron Dite into his throat, ending it swiftly.

If it were a proper duel, with the Church Knight’s physique, skills, and equipment, he could at least put up a fight against Lann, lasting several minutes.

Much like what happened in the Profound Church.

But now, Lann didn’t want a prolonged struggle, as the impending extinction of the First Flame was stirring the darkness within him.

He wanted to hurry to see how the Fire Transmission Altar was faring.

So he decisively let Rong Buqiu assist.

In terms of agility, Rong Buqiu surpassed Lann greatly.

In battle, a small and nimble fighter like it had plenty to offer.

The other Church Knight guarding the gate met the same fate.

In battle, having a numerical advantage when there’s not a significant gap in basic abilities makes things much easier.

Rong Buqiu would disrupt the enemy’s vision, Lann seized the opportunity to use his strength to restrain the limbs, then struck precisely where needed.

If it were Losric Knights facing the Church Knights, it might not be so easy.

Although both were strong knights, the Church Knights clearly had an advantage in strength and physique over the average Losric Knight.

This difference was due to the combat styles of their respective knight orders.

In a direct contest of strength, a Losric Knight might even be sent flying by a Church Knight.

But Lann’s strength allowed him to effectively suppress a Church Knight.

Their plate and chain mail clanged continuously in the struggle, while the leather straps made stretching ’creak’ sounds.

But all was in vain.

Strengthened muscles and bones, under the influence of the hormones from the Holy Chant Gland, unleashed even greater power.

Lann forced the Church Knight’s arm down inch by inch in their struggle...

The two knights guarding the gate were both down.

When the Demon Hunter lifted their barrel-like helmets, it was just as he suspected.

The knights no longer resembled humans, with their heads devoid of hair, and beneath the heavy armor were withered bodies.

Moreover, something resembling plant roots was growing on their surfaces.

The Church Knight guarding the main entrance wore a ring set with a gemstone.

It was a blue gemstone about the size of a human thumbnail.

Lann could sense the magic on it, so he took it with him.

At this position, the Demon Hunter and the Elu Cat could both hear a strange, intense howling.

"Ooooo, ahhh!"

The sound came from behind the main gate, fierce and bizarre.

Man and cat exchanged glances, indicating they couldn’t discern what was wailing from the sound.

As they approached the main gate, the anguished cries became clearer.

The Three-Floral Kitten, in this eerie environment and amid the odd wails, seemed scared, its fur bristling.

Its big eyes widened into full circles, darting nervously in every direction.

Lann stood before the door, pressing his fingers to his forehead.

He had prepared mentally for the possibility that King Ausloes had lost control, but now faced with the situation...

"It’s not looking good."

Considering the state of the world, Lann sighed as he spoke.

Then, hands clad in gloves reinforced with metal plates pushed against the doors, forcing them open with effort.

Regardless, the task had to be done.

With a ’creak’ of the doors opening, a white mist that appeared cold, but was not, spilled out through the crack.

The Demon Hunter and the Elu Cat exchanged a glance, Rong Buqiu seemingly encouraged by the look.

It immediately puffed up its chest and walked in alongside Lann.

This seemed indeed to be the king’s chamber, evident from the solid, orderly stone tiles and the dozen or so grand marble pillars under the dome, suggesting a former magnificence.

But those were earlier times.

Now, it seemed someone had gone on a rampage here for quite some time.

The once-luxurious furnishings lay shattered and unrecognizable, the tightly laid stone tiles cracked and uneven, with displaced tiles breaking their original alignment.

And in the depths of the room was the frenzied ’thing’, or perhaps... King Ausloes!

It was a creature with its back turned to them, a bizarre... dragon.

Lann had seen quite a few dragons in his time.

Flying dragons, magical dragons, natural dragons, he had seen them all.

But the one before him...

It was about fifteen meters long, with four limbs, a tail, and a pair of wings on its waist.

However, although the number of limbs matched, their proportions were completely abnormal.

Its wings were unusually small, its limbs long yet extraordinarily thin, as if there were no muscles or fat, just skin clinging to the bones.

It lacked the powerful, robust feeling of dragons, instead conveying an eerie, sinister sensation.

Its skin was scaleless, resembling a slick layer of rubber, displaying a sickly, nauseating color of blue-tinged white.

On its back, along the length of its spine, grew a cluster resembling fungal stipes, which swayed with its slight movements.

The strange and painful howling that had come through the door earlier emanated from its mouth.

And as Lann and Rong Buqiu stepped into the room, the terrifying and bizarre howl abruptly ceased.

"You’ve intruded into my courtyard. What is your intention? Defier of the king’s mandate."

Its voice was deep and unhurried, even somewhat orderly, a stark contrast to the previous howling.

Yet it was this instantaneous transition from frenzy to sanity that left one uncertain.

Lann cautiously halted his steps.

"No one wishes to disturb the majesty, but the situation in Losric is far from optimistic. The High Priest and Knight Captain sent me here..."

"Far from optimistic?"

Before Lann could finish, the unseen ’Saint King of Losric,’ founder and reigning ruler of the Fire Age’s mightiest nation, interrupted and questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"The fire is dimming, and yet the king’s shadow is nowhere to be seen." Lann tried to keep his words formal.

Perhaps because King Ausloes was a Divine Race surviving from ten thousand years ago, his speech carried an ancient tone.

With anyone else, facing such a tone would be enough to leave them flustered.

However, the Sons of the Emperor were adept at navigating tones.

So Lann’s response carried not only the aura of a distant era, but even rhymed.

This made King Ausloes slightly turn his head.

"Even now, the sun is nowhere to be seen during the day, Your Majesty. Darkness is thriving and invading everywhere."

Lann elucidated to the king the predicament of the Fire Transmission Ceremony.

He expected that upon hearing this, King Ausloes would become anxious, but to his surprise...

This king, whose ’greatness,’ ’contributions to the continuation of the Fire Age,’ ’making Losric dominant at the Fire Age’s peak’ Lann had constantly heard about since he arrived in this world.

He seemed to be indifferent to the matter of the ’primordial fire’s dimming.’

That slick and elongated tail slid slowly over the uneven brick floor.

"The primordial fire... the original fire... it’s just something that will extinguish eventually."

Ausloes spoke leisurely.

As Lann watched him from behind, he wondered if it was a trick of the mind... as if he were cradling a child, gently rocking.

"Lorrian, Losric... my two sons were right. Their teacher was right."

"If the flame cannot be perpetuated forever, what does it matter if it wanes a few millennia early or late?"

"But when the flame extinguishes, everything humans have built, all life, will collapse. Society, technology, emotions... all will vanish!"

Lann spoke loudly, frowning intensely.

Did the old king really support the two princes? Did he also agree that the primordial fire was destined to die out, viewing brief delay with the perspective of a long-lived race as meaningless? Just futilely exacerbating suffering?

But Ausloes’s words again caught Lann off guard.

"Everything will collapse?"

Ausloes’s tone had a hint of sarcasm as he turned his dragon-like face, a pockmarked head with only the contours of a dragon silhouette!

"No, it won’t..."

His tone began light as a whisper, but as more information and sentiments were revealed, his voice grew increasingly grand.

"My kingdom, my subjects, my family... none of it will collapse! Because I’ve found a way for us, everyone, for all to survive in a fireless era!"

"Look at this body! This body transforming towards an Immortal Ancient Dragon! Even without the absurd flame, I can live! Continue living!"

"My children need not worry. I’ve already ’imbued’ them. They will also become Immortal Ancient Dragons!"

"The subjects need not worry, see those scattered ashen flakes? That’s my research, dragon transformation research! I can make everyone in Losric! Not a single one excluded! All become great beings capable of living in an era without fire!"

"This is the salvation I found! This is the path a king walks!"

"You need no longer suffer, Knight. I, King of Losric, Fire God Flaan of the Divine Era, now Ausloes! Have found the way to free everyone from that wretched cycle of fire transmission!"

The voice was thunderous! Reverberating throughout the palace, stirring up dust and debris.

Then, the white dragon, speaking human language, curled up, tightly clutching something in his embrace.

"My beloved son, child of the dragon, Othello. His birth is proof that the path I chose is correct!"

The scaleless and peculiar white dragon whose grand voice was still echoing among marble colonnades, yet in the next moment, gently swayed his embrace, softly crooning.

Like an old father, doting and comforting his child.

And Lann...

The Demon Hunter’s hand had already grasped the hilt at his waist when Ausloes confessed to spreading those ashen flakes over the city.

Simultaneously, the vertical pupils behind the cascading silver hair grew cold and menacing.

This pure, unadulterated and unwavering chill provoked Ausloes, cradling his ’beloved son.’

His body, gently swaying, stiffened, then slowly rotated around.