Ember Dragon

Amidst the gazes of countless Blue Dragon descendants, filled with either reverence or fear, the Primordial Blue Dragon raised the wreckage of the magical behemoth high, with dark clouds churning behind it and lightning flashing like a tide.

"Do you see that? Children of the dragon, this is the consequence of opposing the Church of the Dragon and the great Five-Colored Dragon Queen!"

She raised her head, and her disproportionately large horns reflected a metallic sheen in the lightning, with bolts of lightning striking them from time to time, sending out blinding sparks.

"Remember, you are beings with noble blood flowing through your veins, and you will rule this world alongside the dragons! Anyone who dares to betray Her Majesty the Dragon Queen will face only one fate—"

"boom!"

With a deafening roar, the thunderclouds in the sky roared and howled, and thousands of blinding bolts of lightning poured out like a surging tide, instantly engulfing the wrecked and charred magic warship.

Faced with this most brutal, primal, and destructive force, the specially made insulating wood of the Imperial Magic Research Institute was like fragile paper, instantly charred and carbonized, turning into countless black fragments scattered everywhere.

"That is destruction!"

Only then did the ancient blue dragon utter the rest of its words in a cold and heavy tone.

At that moment, thunder surged behind her, dark clouds rolled around her, and every flickering arc of electricity and spark in the air seemed to be summoned by it, becoming extremely violent, like a pack of mad beasts.

At the eye of the storm, the Primordial Blue Dragon slowly flapped its wings, and the gale surged with its wings, unleashing its immense dragon might, sweeping across the land and giving people an unparalleled sense of oppression.

It is said that the most fearsome and powerful blue dragons are called "Storm Dragons," but for this ancient blue dragon, such a brief nickname is completely inadequate to describe its terror.

The evil dragon priest, riding atop a storm dragon, raised his arms and shouted with unparalleled fervor and passion: "Praise be to the Lord of Thunder and Sandstorm, the Sovereign of Tarrilo, the eldest daughter of Tiamat—Gorazdra!"

"Before the overwhelming power of the dragon, these rebels are nothing but dust to be crushed!"

"Ow—"

Countless blue dragon descendants and hybrid dragon beasts raised their heads and let out a noisy roar, cheering for the arrival of their common master—"Thunder Tyrant" Gorazdra.

Their roars caused the desert to tremble, sand dunes to collapse, and countless grains of sand to be swept into the air by the gale, forming a sandstorm that covered the earth.

In fact, within the Church of the Dragon, many believers already worship Kazur, Erebus, and Gorazdra as deities, building temples, setting up altars, and creating statues for them, referring to these three as the "Three Colored Gods".

In the legends of these dragon worshippers, when the three gods gather, Tiamat will descend to earth in her magnificent form, ending the desolate Third Age and ushering in a new era in which dragons and their offspring rule the earth.

At the eye of the storm, high in the sky, Gorazdra gazed northward, countless tiny arcs of electricity surging within his deep, dark pupils.

Across the vast yellow sands, thousands of kilometers away, she clearly saw the army from the Burning Empire, and their imposing array of weapons and armor.

"The Burning Empire. What audacious creatures, daring to defy His Majesty's decree."

"But soon, you will become the last stepping stone for me to ascend to godhood. Be honored for that, Kaisius." The ancient blue dragon's tone was chilling, and his voice seemed to crackle with electricity.

Beneath her, more descendants of the blue dragon emerged from the yellow sand, forming a deep blue torrent, like waves surging above the sand, their scales gleaming in the lightning.

The players' actions destroyed a breeding nest of blue dragonkin and killed hundreds, even thousands, of the ferocious blue dragonkin.

But in this vast and boundless Taliro Desert, amidst the endless yellow sands, countless dark lairs lie buried, nurturing countless monsters flowing with the filthy blood of evil dragons.
This desert, and indeed the entire Seleucia Kingdom—which had long been the territory of the five-colored dragons and their monster retinues—had been thoroughly infiltrated.

Not only were the ruins of the ancient palace submerged by an ocean of blue dragon descendants, but countless monsters covered in blue scales emerged from the ground and from caves in the Il River Valley in the north of the desert and the Sunset Gobi in the south.

As if they had heard some kind of call, they gathered together and headed north of Tarillo, devouring everything in their path—be it grass, cacti, or any animals that had managed to survive—leaving only barren, monotonous yellow sand.

At this moment, the blue dragon descendants of the entire desert poured out to the Locke Great Rift Valley, the decisive battleground chosen by both sides.

Meanwhile, north of the Rock Rift Valley, on the central Seleucid plateau, allied forces from various regions gathered together, their banners fluttering, their morale high, and their massive army almost completely occupying the plateau.

The largest group consisted of soldiers from the Burning Empire, numbering nearly two hundred thousand, all well-trained and fully armed legions. These imperial soldiers answered the call to war, marching south from Thrace to this unfamiliar land to wage a war they knew all too well.

They were the heroes who helped the Seleucids "reclaim their homeland" and were the absolute pillars of this war.

From God's perspective, without the intervention of the Empire, the Allied Forces would have had to endure several more years of fighting and resistance before they would have the strength to barely fight the Dragon Cult Legion.

Moreover, they were not as familiar with history as Kaisius. In the eyes of many Seleucia, if it weren't for the Burning Empire extending a helping hand and rescuing them from dire straits, they would probably have been wiped out in the Battle of Green Valley.

"Gentlemen—war is about to begin!"

Within the vast army formation, officers with the blood of the red dragon stood on high ground, brandishing gleaming sabers and shouting with overwhelming momentum: "Remember, we are the warriors of His Majesty Caesus! No enemy on this continent can withstand our offensive!"

"Glory, wealth, and power await you on the battlefield. Tear those damned Tiamat followers to shreds, and you will have everything you desire!"

"For the Empire! For His Majesty Caesus!"

Imperial soldiers raised their weapons high and roared like waves, echoing across the plateau, their passionate cries stirring the hearts of all present.

Besides the Imperial Legion, the second largest force in the Allied Forces is the Seleucid native soldiers, numbering around 120,000, many of whom are paladins or warriors.

Most of these native soldiers were Seleucids who had been displaced and wandered around during the Dragon Plague, and were eventually recruited by Duke Adrian. Many of them lost their relatives and friends in that terrible disaster and harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Dragon Worship Church, the evil dragons, and their servants. However, some soldiers were left with deep psychological trauma that they still find difficult to overcome.

Adrian, gripping his sword with both hands and carrying Duke Franz's heavy greatsword on his back, stood atop the hill, looking down at the soldiers below, his tone heavy and resolute:
“Our departed loved ones and comrades are watching us. How can we tolerate those filthy cultists ruining our homeland and wreaking havoc on the land that belongs to the Franco-François?”

"We must defeat the Church of the Dragon at all costs, and let the light of freedom shine again on the land of Seleucia! Let Holy Falden shine once more!"

“I promised Duke Franz that his body would be buried in the City of Sunset, and I will bring him and you back to our homeland!”

Before he finished speaking, Adrian raised his longsword, and countless rays of light converged at the tip of the sword, forming a dazzling sphere of light, within which the emblem of Seleucia was displayed.

"For Seleucia, for Holy Falden!"

"Go home! Go home!" the soldiers shouted back, their voices filled with emotion, and many of them even had hoarse sobs in their voices.

They had been away from that land for years, wandering from place to place, constantly on the move, being chased by dragons and monsters. In the midst of their tense and dangerous lives, many soldiers had even become accustomed to this life of constant movement, forgetting what life in peacetime should really be like.

Now, after hearing Adrian's words, they gradually thought of their deceased relatives and friends, and of their beautiful home. Their emotions burst forth instantly, uncontrollable.

Although the Seleuci soldiers were numerous, in terms of importance and destructive power on the battlefield, they were no match for the legion of metal dragons.

At Bahamut's command, hundreds of metallic dragons gathered here. In addition to common metallic dragons such as gold dragons, silver dragons, and brass dragons, there were also iron dragons and tungsten dragons that were hostile to colored dragons.

For over a thousand years, the continent of Feanso has not witnessed such a grand gathering of so many metal dragons.

These metallic dragons flapped their wings in the sunlight, stirring up gusts of wind and letting out loud roars. The light reflected from their scales was so dazzling that everyone could hardly open their eyes.

The commander of this legion, Bahamut's messenger, the enormous ancient golden dragon Dionysius, soared into the sky, spreading his broad dragon wings. He extended his dragon claws, displaying the sacred scales from the platinum dragon king, which emitted a faint and holy light.

Gu Jinlong spoke slowly, his tone calm and composed: "Fellow clansmen, this is an order from His Majesty Bahamut. We must do our utmost to assist the Allied Forces in defeating the Church of the Dragon."

However, even without this decree, we must do this; it is the responsibility that every metal dragon should bear!

He paused slightly, raised his head a little, and his tone became impassioned: "Gentlemen, do you want to see the Mother of Dragons descend to earth, watch her and her offspring ravage the land, and destroy justice and order in the world?"

Do you really want to watch a prosperous city burn to ashes in dragonfire, a glorious civilization perish beneath you, and countless innocent lives wail in the shadow of dragon wings?

"cannot!"

"Drive these five-colored evil dragons out of Feanso! Drive them out of the material plane!"

"These filthy creatures deserve to stay in the hell of Bathor with their mother goddess forever!"

The metal dragons were filled with righteous indignation, baring their fangs and brandishing their claws, roaring and howling with righteous anger. The rage of these righteous dragons was no less than that of the five evil dragons, and even more terrifying—among them, the most famous was the public-spirited golden dragon.

Legend has it that a fully grown golden dragon, in a fit of extreme rage, destroyed a town occupied by a cult, turning it into a scorched wasteland.

Dionysius looked around and said calmly, "We metal dragons are born with immense power, but this power is not for us to squander. We must shoulder responsibilities far greater than those of other creatures—"

That is to protect this world and ensure it never falls into the hands of villains like Tiamat!

"For justice!"

"Go back to hell!"

Before the words were even finished, the metal dragons took to the air and roared towards the opposite bank of the Great Rift, making the five-colored dragons on the other side somewhat frightened.

The Imperial Legion, the Seleucia native army, and the Metal Dragon Legion are undoubtedly the main forces in this war, but forces from all over Fianso have also sent some reinforcements to varying degrees.

The Kingdom of Kasander, led by a descendant of the Titans, dispatched an elite force of over eight thousand men, known as the "Corona Army." Their soldiers were all clad in heavy armor and wielded spears four or five meters long, making them a force to be reckoned with.

The City of Ten Thousand Laws sent over 120 mages skilled in combat, including a highly respected archmage who had created numerous war spells.

Even Sereneia, which had just emerged from war and was in dire need of rebuilding, sent a well-trained Silvermoon Conqueror army. However, the Silvermoon Elves were few in number and had just suffered a disaster, so the army numbered only a hundred.

At the same time, many powerful individuals from the good faction also appeared in the Allied Forces' positions—such as those cloud giant warriors from Sky City.

And another group that cannot be ignored is the players.

They are not part of the regular army, and do not obey the orders and commands of their commanders, yet they possess considerable strength and an astonishingly large number. The powerful guilds, in particular, possess many forbidden weapons, enough to shoot down dragons and instill fear and trembling in any enemy.

Even the proud Five-Colored Evil Dragon would not easily underestimate these "people who descended with the falling stars" from the empire.

Ultimately, through the combined efforts of various forces, an unprecedentedly massive army appeared in the northern part of Rock Canyon, numbering well over a million. It nearly took over the area, making the vast plateau feel extremely crowded, as if it were about to be submerged.

The people in the coalition came from all sorts of races, factions, and camps, and some of them had even been enemies with each other, but now they had all chosen to stand on the same side.

Because they all knew one thing: Tiamat must never be allowed to descend into the material plane! (End of Chapter)