Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 462 The Battle of the Long Night (Part Six)

With a roar, Centaurus tossed a wight mammoth torn in two into the ranks of the White Walkers. The dark green dragon spread its butterfly-like wings, the colorful patterns on its wing membranes shimmering in the wind and snow. Frost clung to its antler-like horns, the tips dripping with icy blue blood from the previous battle.

Ahead, three ice dragons pierced through the clouds, their wingless, serpentine bodies slithering beneath the gray sky. They opened their massive jaws, spewing forth frigid breath that instantly condensed the moisture in the air into countless ice blades, sweeping in like a storm.

Dan squinted, his fingers digging deeply into the saddle rope.

"Crash it over!"

Cendraros let out a deafening roar, its dragon eyes shrinking to slits. It suddenly accelerated, its massive body breaking the sound barrier in an instant, causing visible ripples in the air.

The first ice dragon didn't even have time to dodge.

Centroth's antlers pierced the ice dragon's skull like a battering ram, spraying out eerie blue blood that instantly vaporized upon contact with the antlers. Before the ice dragon's corpse could fall, Centroth's tail mace swept out, the butterfly-shaped bone hammer-like tail slamming heavily onto the spine of the second ice dragon, the crisp sound of shattering bones even drowning out the wind.

Four Ice Summoners stood atop the third ice dragon, their pale fingers plunging into their throats, drawing out a spray of icy blue blood. Ice condensed in the air, attempting to freeze Centroth's wings.

Dan sneered and suddenly pulled on the reins.

Sendralos suddenly swooped down, its dragon horns piercing through the Ice Summoners with pinpoint accuracy, like spears, hanging them like skewers of meat on its horns. Dark blue blood dripped from the boned horns, hissing white smoke as it corroded the dragon scales.

"Is that all you've got?" Dan spat, his pale beard covered in shards of ice.

Not far away, the trail of silver wings slicing through the sky resembled a ribbon woven from moonlight. Valena Varese's silver hair danced in the gale, her violet eyes locked onto an ice mage chanting. The White Walker's spell had just coalesced into an ice crystal spear when silver wings shifted course, their elegant form tracing a deadly arc through the air.

“Turn left, Dragonflame,” she commanded softly.

The dragonfire of the Silverwing was not the usual orange-red, but a pure silver, splashing out like liquid moonlight. The ice mage's shield, which had just been formed, crumbled in this silver flame. The dragonfire, with its remaining force, directly engulfed its upper body, and the ice mage howled as it slowly melted in the dragonfire.

A giant eagle with feathers covered in ice crystals swooped down from the side of Silverwing. The pale woman riding the eagle tore open her own chest and cast a spell to attack the aged Valena.

Silverwing didn't even look back.

Its dragon wings suddenly flapped, directly knocking the giant eagle away. The silver dragon gracefully flipped its body, its sharp claws tearing the giant eagle's body apart. Dragon flames erupted, melting the bodies of the Pale Maiden and the giant eagle.

“Too slow,” Valena murmured, her fingertips brushing against the scales of the silver wing.

The figures of dragons and knights clashed in the snowstorm, each flap of their wings claiming the life of a White Walker. Behind them, the torn ice dragon lay like a shattered glacier, no longer a threat.

With the two old dragons as the vanguard, the Varezes and Targaryen dragons began hunting down the remaining ice dragons along the torn lines.

On Vomisor's back, Igor appeared as small as an ant on a mountain. The bronze dragon's scales, blessed by Hofa's dragon blood, gleamed with a molten gold-like luster, each scale appearing as if forged in a furnace. As the cold wind approached this most powerful dragon of the era, it twisted into a wave of sweltering heat.

Two ice mage lords, riding ice dragons, approached. Their breath condensed into countless ice blades in the air, sweeping in like a blizzard. This time, the old dragon, with its slow flight, didn't need to worry about not being able to catch up.

The dragonfire of Vormisor was as intense as the sun. Wherever the flames passed, the ice and snow did not melt, but instead evaporated directly into vapor, even distorting the air itself. The ice mage lords' ice crystal armor burned like paper the moment it came into contact with the dragonfire. Their bodies twisted and shrank in the flames, eventually turning into two crystalline skeletons that plummeted from the sky and shattered on the frozen ground.

With the largest ice dragon already fallen, none of the other ice dragons were a match for Vormisor. Igor mourned the fallen dragon knights in his heart; their sacrifice had brought about a reduction in the pressure on Igor and his men.

If the largest ice dragons are still around, Vormisor, Starsong, Shadow Nightmare, Dreamfire, and Sendralos will have to deal with them. He and Dan are alright, but Starsong, Shadow Nightmare, and Dreamfire's riders are all novices, and it's easy for them to run into trouble.

Hoffa, riding Starsong, flew past Vormisor, protecting the old dragon from an attack from the side. This star-patterned black dragon, second only to Vormisor, spread its massive wings, the star patterns on its horns gleaming in the dragonfire. Each breath it exhaled sent the ice dragons tumbling away, as if even the White Walkers feared the power emanating from the Song of Fire.

Maeghi followed closely behind on Dawn, a silver dragon with towering dorsal fins that darted across the battlefield like lightning. Its flight path was elegant yet deadly, each dive precisely striking down any White Walker's flying mount. Dawn's breath was not the hottest, but it was the most precise, like a silver rapier piercing the enemy's most vulnerable joints.

"Left wing!" Hofa hissed.

Xingge immediately changed direction, sweeping his dragon flames and forcing back an ice dragon that was trying to ambush him, while Chenxi launched a surprise attack from the side, using his dragon flames to send away the Ice Summoner on the ice dragon's back.

The ice dragon plummeted to the ground with a mournful howl, burying an entire horde of ghouls like a landslide. This fall wouldn't kill the ice dragon, but it was enough to leave it in agony for a long time, preventing it from immediately returning to battle.

Shadow Nightmare roared; the jagged black dragon had gone completely mad. Its breath was no longer pure fire, but a pale dragonfire mixed with vengeful intent. The ice dragons instinctively dodged, but were still scorched with blackened wounds. Adele gripped the reins tightly; lacking experience, she could only let Shadow Nightmare fight on its own.

An ice dragon attempted to ambush from behind, but Shadow Nightmare whirled around, its jagged, bony tail lashing across the dragon's head like a whip before snapping its jaws shut. Pale dragonfire erupted from the depths of Shadow Nightmare's throat, evaporating the ice dragon's azure blood into mist before it could even drip.

Adele secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then focused all her attention on reminding her companions of the situation on the battlefield.

Torchfire roamed the battlefield. The dragon had little time to spare; Doran Vareses, son of Othiris, hastily mounted it. This grey-white dragon, with its twelve tentacle-like mane, was like a monster from the deep sea, constantly roaming the air, dividing the battlefield with its dragonfire. When an ice dragon attempted a low-altitude ambush, the old dragon cunningly struck, its twelve tentacles coiling around the enemy dragon's body like giant pythons. The ice dragon struggled frantically, spewing frost, but Torchfire's tentacles tightened more and more. The crisp sound of breaking dragon bones, accompanied by the screams of the White Walker riders, echoed across the battlefield. Finally, the ice dragon's spine was severed, and its mangled body fell like rag dolls.

"Well done!" Doron laughed heartily.

Aegon Targaryen flew past him on his dreamfire. Aegon glanced at Doran, who was laughing heartily, with some confusion, then climbed back onto the old dragon's back, preparing for battle. He noticed a Night Knight raising his ice crystal lance, ready to hurl it at Vormisor's abdomen.

"Dreamfire, Dragonflame!"

Before Aegon could finish giving his command, Dreamfire suddenly swooped down, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire.

The Night Knight's ice crystal spear melted in the flames, its body was engulfed by dragonfire, and before it could even scream, it turned into a wisp of black smoke and vanished.

Aegon paused for a moment, but then gripped the dragon saddle tightly.

“Continue, Dreamfire,” he whispered. “I’ll listen to you.”

(End of this chapter)