novelraw Chapter 338: The Might of the Dragon Host, Rivers of Blood
Chapter 338: The Might of the Dragon Host, Rivers of Blood
Time did not slow a fraction in response to General Ironwall’s inner reaction; the enemy’s advance likewise did not pause for a moment.
The dreadful news of the first and second sentries falling in succession rang like tolling funeral bells, each chime more urgent than the last.
And as the distance relentlessly closed, that monstrosity which had crushed every obstacle in its path finally probed its claws out of the suffocating darkness, revealing its horrifying true form.
Agile and towering centaur warriors in full heavy armor stood arrayed like a forest of spears;
massive ogres with muscles like moving hills dragged huge wolf-tooth clubs and emitted low, heavy bellows;
werewolf assault squads flashed cold light from their claws, moving so fast they left afterimages as they darted through shadows;
a black river of gnolls, kobolds, and lizardfolk stretched into the distance, their bloodthirsty shrieks never ceasing.
...........
The enemy’s sheer numbers and the quality of their forces far exceeded the garrison’s worst expectations.
At the same time, the thunderous thud of countless boots, the metallic clashes of armor, and the myriad deep, repressed roars combined into a terrifying sound wave that shook the earth and battered every ear and nerve along the walls."All soldiers! Steel your hearts! Hold the line! Reinforcements—"
General Ironwall Hamilton drew in a breath, and with the power of the Crown Oath in his voice he forced his command to rise above the beasts’ cacophony.
"Alchemical crystal cannon arrays—charge energy, prepare for alternating volleys!"
Network error, refreshing, retrying
"Alchemical golem legion—forward to the battlements, establish close-defense lines!"
............
"Paladin order—positions! Swear to guard every inch of these walls with your lives!"
His orders steadied the troops somewhat; his calm voice steadied some of the soldiers’ nerves.
One military command after another fell like iron hammers.
Energy sigils on the wall flared like molten metal, the barbs humming and trembling; cannon muzzles glowed with blinding blue light, the air buzzing from energy overload; alchemical golems’ heavy steps pounded onto the battlements like roaring beasts... The paladins’ armor rang out as they held the wall, knowing full well what they faced, and the oath carved into their bones: retreat was death!
"FIRE!!"
The alchemical crystal cannons unleashed a deafening roar; the first volley’s light tore through the silent night.
Dozens of water-cask-thick beams burst from the muzzles like spears of divine judgment, instantly illuminating the wilderness.
Where the beams struck, the orc slave phalanxes thrown forward as cannon fodder were like snow cast into a steel furnace.
The front row of orcs did not even manage a scream before they were vaporized, turned to steam by the extreme heat.
Some stronger barbarian warriors in the rear only caught the beam’s edge; their heavy plate armor melted into glowing red metal that fused and carbonized horribly with the flesh beneath.
Yet the loss of these slaves meant little to the Molten Iron Tribe.
"For the glory of the Lord of Molten Iron! Crush them!"
Karu pounded his chest, howling as he strode over charred corpses, smashing the ground like a cannon blast as he charged toward the towering walls.
He was met by a second volley of cannon fire.
Sensing the might of the dragon-blooded Gluttonous Ogre, the crystal cannon commanders dared not slacken; they attempted to blast him dead.
Beams wove into a net with no blind spots, covering the dragon-blooded Gluttonous Ogre.
But faced with unavoidable death, the dragon-blooded Gluttonous Ogre reared, roared, and did not dodge—he simply charged straight through the beams.
The light struck the thick hide layered with dragon scales.
Temperatures that vaporized orc slaves and melted plate armor left only charred marks on him and failed to inflict meaningful harm.
Karu, inheritor of the red dragon bloodline, did not lack flame resistance.
The Molten Iron Legion pressed onward; those top-down ranged attacks caused trouble but could not halt the advance.
Soon, the monstrous army surged to the walls like a tide.
The flash of cannon fire also clearly revealed the huge dragon silhouettes circling at low altitude.
The purpose of the subordinate army for the dragon host was to absorb the enemy’s concentrated fire and prevent the great dragons from being focus-fired without mercy.
As the legion drew close, the dragons could finally unleash their full power.
"Insignificant insects, turn to dust beneath dragon breath!"
Red Dragon Samantha’s roar rolled like thunder across the battlefield.
She could no longer restrain her warfury; folding her wings sharply, she dived toward a segment of the wall.
As she neared, the fine scales at her throat flared with complex alchemical runes.
This was her imitation of a kin breath, fused and amplified by her sorceress abilities.
She opened her enormous maw and expelled a condensed, substantive breath—white-hot with dark red streaks.
The searing river of destruction struck like a god’s whip, lashing at a crystal cannon platform gushing energy.
But the defensive runes carved on the wall flared to full the instant the attack arrived.
A thick, hard, semi-transparent magical shield blinked into being, brazenly meeting the red dragon’s breath.
The shield shuddered violently under the terrifying blast, buckling inward and cracking with spiderweb fissures, yet stubbornly refused to shatter immediately!
Samantha used the momentum of her dive to smash the most cracked spot of the shield with a headlong collision.
The clash of her sturdy skull against the magic shield sounded sickening; she tore out a massive gap.
Before she could widen that breach to greater effect, the mage squad behind the wall struck.
Many icy rays pinpointed Samantha’s exposed head in the gap; the frigid energy spread swiftly and froze her into a huge block of ice.
Samantha thrashed in fury, her raw power shattering the crystalline casing; shards flew everywhere.
But during that brief delay, more attack spells rained down like drops; Samantha had to momentarily withdraw, pulling her head from the gap.
And the shield’s breach healed at a speed visible to the eye, sealing back as if nothing had happened.
Elsewhere,
Iron Dragon Sorog, Blue Dragon Heriam, and Red Dragon Kahir encountered similar resistance.
They tried to be the first to break the wall and open a route for the Molten Iron horde, but the city shield was exceptionally tenacious, barely holding against the dragons’ furious assaults for a short time.
General Ironwall Hamilton’s face tightened like iron, his gaze fixed on the four dragons circling and probing for an opening.
He had readied his plan.
If any dragon again forced the shield and exposed a vulnerability, he would, at any cost, order all firepower to concentrate instantly and seek to slay it in one strike.
But to his dread, after one probing attack the four dragons did not recklessly batter the shield again; instead, they spread out slightly.
Their stance was not retreat.
It was more like waiting.
A paladin’s heart sank as if gripped by a giant hand, beating heavily!
An even larger dragon shadow unfolded above, wings spreading to blot out the sky, covering the thin moonlight and casting a suffocating, oppressive darkness.
The battlefield dimmed.
Soldiers instinctively looked up and, with horror, discovered that beyond those four vicious dragons, higher still—almost touching the stars—hovered a colossal, menacing, supremely powerful dragon that seemed the very king of monsters.
All eyes turned to the sky, and the Red Iron Dragon circled there.
Surging dark-red flame rolled from the tips of his wings; his speed climbed, as if he would rend the sky itself, carving a vast hole of air pressure.
Then he suddenly shifted direction and tucked his wings slightly.
Beyond sound! Beyond the limits of sight!
His speed became unmatched, transforming into a genuine falling star from the heavens as he dove toward the walls.
The defenders on the wall had no time to react, much less aim.
In what seemed the blink of an eye, Death’s Harbinger had already closed to mere yards.
Time seemed stretched to infinity in that instant.
Under the defenders’ desperate gaze, the Red Iron Dragon’s incomprehensibly massive body struck the seemingly unbreakable shield like the most brutal war hammer.
Humm!!
The shield emitted a dense, rain-like screech of cracking under pressure, unable to bear the load.
Its once-stable energy lattice flickered wildly, dimming and flaring as it buckled and collapsed inch by inch—fracturing, giving way, and breaking apart!
Boom!!
A deafening sonic boom finally erupted like thunder cracking.
In the next breath, the Red Iron Dragon smashed through the shield, his heavy body crashing down and sending flying rubble and thick dust into the air.
Golems of various sizes, tall as beasts, surged into the dust-choked area.
From the dust came sickening sounds of metal being ripped and twisted, accompanied by scattering, blinding sparks; metal limbs, gears, bearings, and pipes fly like refuse.
"Now! With me! For the duchy! For glory!"
General Ironwall Hamilton let out a death-defying roar and drew his sword aglow with holy light.
He led the most elite paladin guard like a dagger into the chaotic clouds of dust.
They attempted to coordinate with the alchemical golems to encircle and slay the dragon that had seemingly been brought down by the impact.
Though he knew the odds were pitifully slim, this was the only thread of hope in utter desperation.
Mages in the rear poured their all into benedictions and protective barriers upon the paladins, making these already-sturdy warriors even harder to kill.
Elsewhere, the other dragons were not idle.
Red Dragon Samantha roared again in exhilaration, diving to pour her intensified dragon breath upon the eastern wall.
The gunners barely recovered from the shock of the dragon-lord’s descent and could not respond effectively.
The steel-cast wall groaned; crystal cannon platforms warped in the heat; gunners were instantly carbonized, only blackened handprints left on molten gun barrels.
Then Samantha used her momentum to batter the weakened, deformed wall.
Crash!!!
A huge breach was torn open; debris and flaming shards flew in every direction!
Divine Smite!
A paladin lieutenant ran through flying stone and scorching dragon flame.
His greatsword, blazing with holy light and lifetime conviction, struck Samantha’s forelimb.
Holy energy collided with dragon scale in a sizzling, searing sound, tearing the scale and leaving a bleeding gash!
!!!
Samantha howled in pain and rage, sweeping a claw to cleave this paladin aside like a ragdoll.
But she noticed a brief flash of invisible chainlike light around the paladin, linking him to comrades behind.
A Guardian Chain—linking teammates to collectively reduce and share received damage.
The struck paladin, though his armor was crushed and blood shot from his mouth, wasn’t mortally wounded; he struggled up and charged Samantha again.
More paladins, knights, and warriors surged from all sides to press the assault.
A smile split the red dragon’s maw.
She beat her wings, and her massive form unhesitatingly shot back to the heavens.
Rather than linger to be entangled, she used her absolute aerial mobility to target other, more thinly defended sectors and continue her slaughter.
Anti-Flight Magical Arrays deployed across Tempering Heights had long been activated, but they could not drag these terrifying dragons down.
The Molten Iron dragons were not foolish beasts; each had been expensively equipped with advanced Counter-Alchemical Tools that largely negated the arrays’ effects.
Iron Dragon Sorog fixed his target on the west wall.
Dense armor-piercing ballista and crystal beams scoured his old position but only struck a dissipating afterimage.
His true body had already conveyed via short-range spiritual-energy teleportation to beneath the wall.
Massive claws slammed into the wall’s foundation.
Quasi-spell skill—metallic resonance!
The entire stretch of wall vibrated like a tuning fork struck by a great hammer; the high-frequency tremor made defenders’ noses and ears bleed, rupturing entrails, and shattered the barbs and runes attached to the wall inch by inch.
The iron dragon slapped with claws and tail and shattered the west wall.
Mages preparing spells felt sudden head pain, their minds scattering; their spells were halted mid-cast and suffered severe backlash.
To some extent, mind sorcerers were the bane of spellcasters.
Unless forewarned, ordinary mages could hardly bring forth spells when facing mind sorcerers.
Rumble!
The sky on the other side was swathed in rolling black clouds.
Thick, dragon-like bolts of lightning fell one after another, blasting down like divine punishment upon the ranks along the wall.
Blue Dragon Heriam circled gracefully within the thunderstorm, each wingbeat drawing furious lightning.
Currents danced about him as he masterfully steered the storm, sending sweeping Chain Lightning and thunderstorm spells into the densest clusters of defenders.
Crack—!
Young, bloodthirsty Red Dragon Kahir, face wet with savage excitement, chose the most direct, violent path—he plunged into the alchemical golem phalanx.
Golem fists, cutting blades, and energy rays bombarded his body.
Scales tore, boiling dragon blood splashed out.
But injury and pain only fueled his fury; he roared and swelled with rage, ripping apart heavy steel constructs like a child playing with toys—tearing, shredding, and ruthlessly disassembling them.
The dragons’ rampage sheared the walls to pieces, stripping them of defensive function.
The Molten Iron Legion’s monstrous flood poured through countless breaches like a dam break.
Centaur hooves crushed chests without mercy, werewolves’ claws precisely plucked beating hearts, ogres smashed unavoiding soldiers into meat pulp with giant clubs... The Tempering Heights garrison could not organize effective resistance; the war’s balance tipped overwhelmingly to one side.
Rip!
A blood-soaked knight captain swung his greatsword and cleaved a lunging werewolf’s head.
Breathing hard, he glanced with peripheral vision toward the stronghold’s center—the area shrouded by thick dust.
He could only dimly make out the Red Iron Dragon’s scales and the tragic silhouettes of paladins charging with heavy blades; he heard the chilling roars, screams, and the sound of metal being torn.
The captain silently prayed that General Ironwall could conjure a miracle and, with his elite paladins, slay that dragon lord.
If so, the battle might yet be salvageable.
!!!
At that moment, a dull, heavy sound echoed from the dusted center.
Then a figure was flung out, crashing and collapsing a swath of rubble.
His armor had been twisted and mangled, blood streaming all over; a gaping hole had been torn open in his chest by terrible force, and through broken ribs the faint flicker of a beating heart could be seen.
The knight captain’s pupils shrank, and he froze.
He saw with terrible clarity.
That figure was his last hope—General Ironwall, Paladin Hamilton.
Whoosh—!
A sharp cutting sound sliced the air at his side! The captain instinctively raised his sword to parry, but a multi-meter-long heavy lance already pierced the gap in his defense.
The lance drove clean through his breastplate, through his body.
A muscular centaur spearman coldly flicked his long spear, flinging the corpse aside, and charged on toward the next foe without pause.
"Cough... cough, cough..."
General Ironwall Hamilton lay amid the ruins, coughing blood mixed with ripped organs.
He let out an unwilling roar; the remaining Crown Oath energy within him surged, forming a crown-shaped spectral light that washed and healed his near-fatal wounds.
He struggled up, seized his fallen greatsword, and charged back toward the dust-choked area.
The Red Iron Dragon’s massive tail swept like a battle-axe; three golems attempting to block him were cleaved in two, gears and pipelines raining down as black oil splattered and ignited into a roaring inferno.
General Ironwall leaped high; his blade flashed with over ten meters of holy light, swinging down at the Red Iron Dragon’s neck.
The Red Iron Dragon’s claws had just crushed two paladins into pulp.
Facing Ironwall’s strike, he didn’t bother to turn—he merely flicked a wing to swat as one would a fly, a fast, vicious motion.
!
General Ironwall was blasted back at many times his prior speed, the freshly-forged Crown Oath shattered; his bones snapped almost entirely under the blow, and he crashed down into the rubble, driving deep into the wreckage.
But unlike before,
this time he could not rise—his breath failed, and he lay dead on that ground.
Divine Smite!
Another blood-soaked paladin poured his last strength into his blade; the vicious strike landed on the Red Iron Dragon’s hind leg.
Yet this blow, consecrated with life and belief, only left a faint white scratch on the heavy dragon scale.
Its force was laughably weak, as if the beast were some creature on the side of righteousness.
The Red Iron Dragon lifted his hind foot and stamped down, crushing the ambushing paladin to death.
Within a few breaths,
the Red Iron Dragon beat his wings, whipping up a gale that blew away dust and smoke, revealing his massive, battle-hardened body—each line built for war—and the surrounding shattered corpses, twisted golem wreckage, and still-burning ruins.
The last resisting defenders’ morale froze to nothing and collapsed.
Survivors scattered in disorganized routs, or in despair dropped weapons and knelt to surrender; the few stubborn fighters still howling were swiftly swallowed by the onrushing tide of monsters.
As time passed, the thunder of slaughter, explosions, and roars gradually dwindled and died down.
This battle to reclaim lost ground and proclaim the Molten Iron Tribe’s return at Tempering Heights ended as the final threads of smoke drifted away.
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