Demon Hunter: School of the Wolf.

Chapter 621 Crimson Flames Fill the Golden Shield!

"It really works!"

Erin excitedly pounded on the black dragon's back spines.

The rusty gloves of the battle armor struck the scales, producing a crisp, metallic sound.

The Ice Spear Curse, which enhances the poison of the Hanged Man, works against humans and demi-humans by ignoring the Wild Hunt's magical barriers—this is utterly absurd.

However, on the other hand, besides cannibalistic bio-oil and mixed beast oil, the way construct bio-oil works is also quite bizarre.

Even constructs like gargoyles and demons only have a core the size of a fist as their real weakness; the rest of their bodies are essentially just hard plaster, stone, and metal.

Even the sharpest and strongest silver sword a Witcher can wield is still a relatively soft weapon, made of mixed silver and even weaker than a regular steel sword. It would break if struck against a roadside stone.

But a silver sword coated with an oily substance can still break a rock like an egg, and the egg actually shatters the rock.

Furthermore, the only materials for construct bio-oil are dog oil and hairball mushroom.

This is far more outrageous than the poison of the hanged ghost. At least the poison of the hanged ghost can be explained by the conflict between the properties of the potion and the magical properties of humans and demi-humans.

"Forget it, I don't care anymore!"

Erin took out another vial of enhanced hanged ghost poison from the storage cave and poured it onto the condensed ice spear.

The crystal-clear blue spearhead immediately emitted a ghostly green light.

"No matter the method or the principle behind it, as long as we can get rid of the Wild Hunt, it's a good solution!"

Just say it.

The azure cat's eyes suddenly contracted, and the ice spear shot out just as the black dragon flew over the Wild Hunt.

"call out!"

With a sharp, explosive sound, the eerie green ice spear pierced the air, penetrated the golden magical barrier of dragon breath, and pinned the sixth Wild Hunt to the ground.

Although the main damage-dealing attack is the ice spear, the presence of dragon breath is necessary.

Without dragon breath, the ice spear would fall openly from the sky, and no matter how fast it flew or how well it could penetrate the golden magical barrier, it would be easily dodged.

But with dragon's breath, things are different.

The intense magical fluctuations and dazzling light completely concealed the movement of the Ice Spear Spell.

Even if Renagins knew that the Witcher's method was the seemingly insignificant ice spear, it would still take time to react. Once the ice spear pierced through the dragon's breath that was burning the magical barrier, even Renagins wouldn't be able to react in less than a thousandth of a second.

They were powerless against the Ice Spear Curse coated with the poison of the Hanged Man.

Of course, dragon breath also consumes energy, and for a black dragon, the consumption is quite significant.

However, as he became more familiar with the dragon's body, Erin gradually mastered how to control the dragon's breath magic fluctuations and light intensity while minimizing the temperature.

Soon, a single dragon breath required only one-fifth of the "dragon breath slime," physical strength, and mana compared to the initial one.

"Despicable thief!"

Renakins' restless mental state was accompanied by a beam of silver light shooting into the sky.

"Just impotent rage..." Erin thought to himself.

The black dragon skillfully tilted its body to the side.

The silver blade of light whistled past the black dragon's drooping right limb, tearing through the low-flying clouds in the blink of an eye, disappearing without a trace.

After dodging the Wild Hunt's attack, the black dragon did not hover low in the air and continue its attacks, but instead quickly climbed into the dense clouds, giving Renakins no chance.

To be honest, although Renatinus was an impotent rage, the Wild Hunt was indeed very strong, not just in terms of strength, but also in terms of morale.

Although the casualties were only six, considering that elite troops suffer casualties of 20-30% before their morale collapses, it seems that another ten or so Wild Hunts would have to die before their morale would collapse.

But normal warfare is completely different from the current situation where you are being suppressed and beaten, where it is difficult to resist, and because the first blow kills the leader, you are like a lamb to the slaughter with no way to escape. You can only watch helplessly as your comrades are killed one after another without being able to stop them.

Moreover, to die with an ice spear piercing one's entire body and pinning one to the ground would be an incredibly gruesome and terrifying way to die.

If Arryn were Renatinus, or any of the Wild Hunt members, he would feel despair at the Wild Hunt's ability to mount such a threatening attack and defense.

It must be said that the Wild Hunt, which is able to conquer all realms for the people of Alder, is quite powerful in both strength and discipline.

Therefore, even though Erin had a complete advantage, he remained quite cautious.

Moreover, he hadn't forgotten that the speed at which Renatinus unleashed his sword during the last time in the Spiral was so powerful that he didn't even have time to react.

In addition...

In the newly built city of Ban Ad, he has more than one enemy: the Wild Hunt.

Aside from a few unexpected cries of pain when the Flash spell exploded before the battle began, the wizards of the Risberg Civil Cooperative have disappeared since Ottoran fell to the ground.

Hidden in some unknown corner, they watched his battle with the Wild Hunt, waiting to reap the benefits.

While he was pondering, the black dragon climbed to the highest point again.

The Witcher glanced sideways through the gaps in the dark clouds at the perilous and smoldering new city of Ban Ad, before swooping down.
-
Beside a smoky ruin in the new town of Ben Ade, a two-story building stands.

The towering ruins of the Vivaldi Bank and the clock tower on either side of the building cast shadows that obscure it, making it extremely inconspicuous.

But inside the small building, a large group of people were hidden in a hidden world.

The group of people were gathered around the window on the east side, which was shrouded in the shadow of the ruins.

"Cough cough cough~"

"I'm really getting old..."

After coughing a few times, Ottoran followed the warnings his senses gave him and looked away from the dark, layered clouds.

At this moment, the person in charge of the Risberg Civil Cooperative Organization, the most powerful superhuman on the Northern Continent, looked extremely disheveled.

On the black velvet star-studded robe, the glittering stars were obscured by dust and bloodstains, just as the dark clouds above the small building also obscured the black sun and the blue sky.

Where the dust and bloodstains were not concealed, the dark blue bruises and bloody wounds were exposed.

One arm hung limply, wrapped in a bandage, and his hair was disheveled, unable to conceal his aging and exhaustion.

Contrary to the Witcher's expectations, Ottoran, while indeed observing the war between him and the Wild Hunt, was far less capable than either of them.

Do not!
It's not just inferior; it's practically half a foot that has stepped into the River Styx.

This seems inconsistent with Ottoran's reputation and consistently strong capabilities.

On the other hand, a sorcerer who has stood at the pinnacle of power and influence among the superhumans for over a century, in a world where knowledge and learning, rather than strength, magic, and adaptability, dominate... Ottoran, who hasn't fought a single battle in nearly a hundred years, was caught off guard and violently pulled down from the heavens by "Beast Roar: Anti-Air," yet he was able to think of a landing method in time, and thanks to his fragile body and the slowness brought on by old age, he only suffered some non-fatal "minor injuries" that could be fully recovered from...

This is enough to prove that Ottoran stands at the pinnacle of the extraordinary world alongside Demon Source Heng Gedimidis.

after all.

The Wild Hunt performed so well, emerging unscathed from "Beast Roar: No Air," not only because the Alder People's skills in magic and alchemy far surpassed those of the sorcerers in the Witcher world...

Also, because the Wild Hunt are warriors who conquer all realms, while Ottoran, compared to a mage skilled in magical combat, is actually more like a scholar.

Due to the Wild Hunt's outstanding performance, Arryn overestimated the Ottoland and Risberg civil cooperatives, which had been locked in a stalemate with the Wild Hunt since the beginning of the Deadwood.

Ottoland and his Risberg civil partnership are not currently plotting to profit from the chaos.

The opposite of.

Ottoland and his Risberg civil cooperative, long out of combat, were still reeling from the sudden turn of events and hadn't even figured out what to do next.

"I'm really getting old..." he repeated, glancing at the dark figure weaving through the clouds, and asked blankly, "Wild Hunt, Black Dragon, Black Sun, Celestial Sphere Convergence... where did all these monsters come from?"

“Lord Ottolan…” the male wizards of the Risberg Civil Cooperative Organization urged, “Those Wild Hunt are too despicable, they actually…”

“Stop making excuses,” Ottoran said weakly, waving his good hand to interrupt the sorcerer. “It was arrogance that blinded us. We underestimated the Wild Hunt and were not adequately prepared, which is why we have such a terrible outcome.”

The wizards of the Risberg Civil Cooperative exchanged glances and said, "Yes, Lord Ottolan, we have been negligent."

“That’s the right attitude to take when dealing with problems,” Ottoran nodded in satisfaction. “It’s okay to be wrong this time, but we can’t keep being wrong.”

"How can humanity transcend its own limits and reach perfection? Only we, Risberg, can do it."

"We can make mistakes, but we cannot stubbornly refuse to admit our mistakes and continue down the wrong path."

“Yes, Your Excellency Ottolan,” the wizard from the Risberg Civil Cooperative Organization echoed.

Ottolan nodded, forcing himself to move despite the pain, when suddenly he remembered something and turned to look at one of the male wizards:
"Friedrich, you just said that Senny is dead?"

“Yes, Lord Ottolan.” The young sorcerer known as Friedrich, with a goatee, was rubbing his bloodshot eyes. Hearing Ottolan’s question, he immediately nodded. “I saw with my own eyes that Sunny and his men were reduced to ashes without any resistance in the black dragon’s breath.”

After hearing this, Ottolan remained silent for a long time before glancing out of the corner of his eye at the dark figure that had burst through the clouds, enveloped in layers of mist, and swooped down, sighing with a complex tone:
"Black Dragon, the minions of White Frost, the natural enemy of all living beings, the destroyer of the world..."

"The prophesied black dragon has appeared, Friedrich. Is the world truly doomed?"

The small building suddenly fell silent, so quiet that you could clearly hear a pin drop.

Friedrich opened his mouth, but in the end he stammered and said nothing.

Ottolan didn't care, or rather, he hadn't asked the question in the first place to get an answer.

“Senny is going to find Henry Gedmiddis,” Ottolan said to himself. “Since he’s in the new city, does that mean Henry Gedmiddis is no longer at the academy?”

The Risberg wizards looked at each other again, none of them able to offer an answer.

Ottoran muttered to himself again, "Who rescued Hen Gedimidis? Is it related to the Wild Hunt that summoned the black dragon in the sky?"

Everyone fell silent once again.

"Is the disappearance of Hen Gedimidis, and the appearance of the two Wild Hunt factions fighting each other, just a coincidence?"

"If not, why would the Wild Hunt save Hen Gedimidis? For revenge?"

"Besides the dead, who else could Ban Ad know the truth?"

……

Ottolan's questions echoed one after another in the small building.

The male sorcerer of the Risberg Civil Cooperative remained silent throughout, until…

"Is Henry Geddemidis alive or dead now?"

Ottolan frowned as he leaned against the dirty wall.

“Then…” the young wizard named Friedrich suddenly spoke up, “Does the sorcerer kingdom still need to be established? Do we… still need to stay in Ban Ade?”

Ottoran opened his mouth, about to say something.

"boom--"

A sudden flash of light and a deafening explosion occurred outside the window, causing the small building to shake violently. Dust falling from the ceiling drifted into the mouths of many of the Risberg wizards.

However, they were completely unaware of what was happening, and simultaneously glanced out the window, observing with their peripheral vision.

After the tremors subsided, Ottoran, still staring intently at the battlefield through the gaps between buildings and ruins, suddenly uttered a single sentence—

"The battle... is about to end..."
-
"The battle is almost over..."

The black dragon swooped down, unleashed its breath, and with a burst of ice spears, pinned the eleventh Wild Hunt to the ruins of what should have been an inn in the crafting district. The Witcher immediately realized this.

Subsequently.

He chanted the Ice Spear Spell for the eleventh time, skillfully maneuvering the black dragon to swoop down and dodge the crescent-shaped silver blades that flew towards him...

However, before the silver blade could reach the height of the black dragon, it suddenly disintegrated into countless silver light spots.

"The Wild Hunt's morale is in turmoil!"

The Witcher narrowed his eyes instantly, stopped chanting, and then, with a thought, the black dragon's thick, dark neck immediately grew even thicker.

"Roar!"

The blinding incandescent light shone brighter and hotter than ever before within the hideous maw.

In the blink of an eye, the dragon's breath pierced through the air and struck the golden shield.

"Click~"

Compared to the sound of an explosion, a barely audible cracking sound seemed to echo clearly throughout the entire northern continent.

"Do not--"

The crimson flames in Renatinus's sockets suddenly contracted, howling anxiously as he raised his runic longsword as if to plug the cracks in the golden shield.

But in the next instant...

"Shoot-"

The seemingly indestructible golden shield shattered at the point where it met the dragon's breath.

Crimson flames surged into the golden shield, melting everything in their path!
(End of this chapter)