novelraw Chapter 150: The Wyvern Flock
Chapter 150: The Wyvern Flock
Dusk draped the valley in a thin veil of dark blue. The giant wolf knights moved cautiously along the cliff walls, their bodies low as they advanced through the narrow entrance into the suddenly open valley.
At their head was Russell.
Originally the chieftain of the Howling Moon Clan, after the clan's reorganization into a warhost, he became the Warhost Lord of the Crimson Iron Riders due to his exceptional synergy with his werewolf mount and superior skills compared to the gnoll and lizardfolk riders.
Compared to a few years ago.
Russell's gray fur had grown thicker, with more white strands visible on his face.
Werewolves didn't enjoy long lifespans, and having passed his prime, his abilities were gradually declining. His position as Warhost Lord of the Crimson Iron Riders was becoming precarious.
Scouting an unknown valley was dangerous.
Yet he had volunteered to lead the expedition.
The reason was simple - he wanted to prove himself and accumulate merits to exchange for the Dragon Vein Transformation. Becoming a dragon-blooded creature would drastically extend his lifespan, freeing him from worries about aging and declining abilities.
Garoth had openly collected dragon blood without secrecy.The monsters all knew the opportunity for Dragon Vein Transformation had arrived. Their enthusiasm had skyrocketed recently, with overt and covert competitions emerging as they vied for attention and the coveted chance.
Russell gently patted his giant wolf's neck.
The silver-gray beast immediately understood, padding silently across the ground, its wolf eyes glowing faintly green in the dim twilight.
The valley interior was more bountiful than expected.
A central lake rippled with lead-gray waves, its shores littered with animal bones, though fresh tracks indicated regular visits from elk herds.
Russell crouched, running his fingers over the still-damp hoofprints in the mud - evidence they had left recently.
To the east, clusters of white-leaf pines grew along the cliff base. These cold-resistant trees' resin-rich needles made excellent torch material. More excitingly, the wolf knights discovered abundant red berry bushes at the forest edge - these berries could stave off hunger or be processed into potions for minor injuries.
The giant wolf knights continued their cautious exploration.
Suddenly, Russell's ears perked up. "Alert!" he growled.
An unusual sound had caught his attention.
The wind carried faint scraping noises like leather against stone, while the already dim twilight darkened further as massive shadows loomed overhead.
The wolf knights looked up, their pupils contracting sharply.
Ten dragons!
Their deep brown hides glistened, the smallest measuring over eight meters long with disproportionately massive twenty-meter wingspans that blotted out the sky when spread, casting enormous shadows. Their long, thick tails ended in vicious, venomous spikes.
Hisses!
Growls!
They emitted raspy, snake-like hisses and guttural growls from deep in their throats as they emerged from western cliff caves, swooping down through the twilight.
The wyverns' sudden appearance threw the wolf knights into disarray.
Other beasts wouldn't have caused such panic - the knights knew their powerful Dragon Lord and his brother circled above as reliable backup.
But these were dragons.
An entire flock of them changed everything!
Only Russell reacted immediately. "Don't panic!" he roared. "They're not true dragons! Just wyverns!"
Well-versed in clan archives, his knowledge of draconic species surpassed his kin.
He recognized these creatures - bipedal wyverns.
These monsters lacked true dragon blood, possessing only trace draconic lineage. They ranked above ordinary magical beasts but fell far short of genuine dragons.
The wolf knights' panic subsided slightly.
"Circle formation!"
Russell's second command snapped them into action.
The knights instantly contracted into defensive positions, steel spears angled skyward.
But the wyverns split cunningly.
Three feigned frontal attacks while others flanked.
The lead wyvern was massive - thirteen meters long with a scarred faceplate, its scaled hind legs armored like tempered steel, claws honed razor-sharp, tail exceptionally thick and long.
Its malevolent gaze locked onto Russell.
With a whip-crack motion, its tail lashed through the air.
Russell barely glimpsed the blur as he thrust his spear - missing completely before excruciating pain exploded across his chest, sending him flying.
Other wyverns scattered the knight formation, preparing to slaughter.
Then the entire valley darkened.
A deafening sonic boom erupted, like distant thunder dragged to their doorstep.
The wyvern flock froze mid-attack, heads snapping skyward in alarm.
A crimson meteor tore through the twilight, plummeting until a hundred meters above ground when wings snapped open.
A tangible shockwave rippled outward, uprooting soil and flattening vegetation, sending wyverns tumbling.
The red iron dragon didn't immediately attack, hovering instead as his gaze swept the wyverns.
After this display, he spoke succinctly: "Inferior breeds! Kneel!"
Crushing dragon might pressed down.
Wyvern after wyvern tucked tails, ducked heads, folded wings and dropped groundward, then splayed wings flat against earth in total submission.
Facing a superior true dragon.
Nearly all wyverns, bound by innate bloodline hierarchy, couldn't muster resistance and submitted instantly.
But "nearly all" admits exceptions.
Every species produces courageous outliers.
The scar-faced wyvern shrieked defiance in Draconic: "True strength scorns bloodline! I bow only to might!"
Wyverns possessed human-level intelligence, though rarely bothered articulating to lesser creatures.
Its voice was distinctly feminine - unusually robust and fierce for its gender, daring to bare fangs at a true dragon.
Garoth matched its length but his formidable build gave pause.
Yet the two-century-old prime wyvern believed its battle-hardened skills could overcome this juvenile dragon's raw power.
Instead of retreating.
The scarred wyvern charged Garoth.
Garoth remained composed, awaiting the assault.
To break its pride required overwhelming, direct defeat.
The wyvern's attack bore precision honed through countless hunts.
At ten meters, it suddenly twisted, both powerful hind claws slashing simultaneously.
Wyverns stood bipedally, their rear limbs naturally robust and claws deadly.
Left claw aimed for wing joints, right for eyes - a flawless combo refined through life-or-death experience.
Garoth didn't evade, meeting the assault head-on.
His counterstrike seemed slow, its arc simple, yet somehow slipped between the wyvern's claws to impact first against its chest - making the wyvern leader his first combat technique test subject.
Previously, Garoth relied on brute strength.
Now he blended power with skill.
He wielded force and speed more efficiently.
Thud!
The wyvern leader convulsed as if lightning-struck, hurtling backward to crater the cliff face, spiderweb cracks radiating from the impact.
Coughing acidic blood, it roared and attacked again.
This time whipping its tail in a vicious horizontal slash, venomous stinger aimed for Garoth's eye.
It stopped inches short.
Garoth's claw gripped the thrashing tail like an iron vice.
When the wyvern tried kicking free, it lost all control.
Garoth swung it in widening circles.
After a dozen rotations, he released it into the cliff.
The thunderous impact embedded the wyvern deep in shattered stone.
As it struggled free, its vision filled with the crimson iron dragon's terrifying proximity.
"Submit or die."
Garoth's flat ultimatum brooked no negotiation.
The scarred wyvern's chest heaved violently.
Embedded in rock, pain clouded its thoughts.
Regaining focus, it saw its right claw - once-proud hunting tool - now dangling grotesquely, blue-black blood oozing between scales. Its prized combat skills proved worthless against this opponent. Despite similar size, Garoth's power dwarfed its own.
Total defeat shattered its arrogance.
"I............"
The wyvern rasped hoarsely.
"I am Tasha."
"My flesh shall build your throne, my bones pave your conquest."
Finally it bowed, exposing vulnerable neck scales - ultimate submission for wyvernkind.
With the flock's surrender, the valley officially passed under Ignas brothers' dominion.