Chapter 620: The Fall of Divine Offspring – Two-Headed Dragon and the Corpse of Celestial Beings
The Two-Headed Dragon and the corpses of Celestial Beings continued to fall—crashing down with crushing force, flattening unfortunate soldiers beneath them. The Empire of Ashen’s air force clashed brutally with the Celestial Legion in a merciless struggle for air superiority. Artillery roared incessantly, but the battlefield had long since become a tangled mess of infantry, interwoven and entangled. The Empire could no longer conduct carpet bombing; instead, it focused its fury on striking deeper into Collins City.
Explosions erupted across the field, unleashing dazzling flares of Flame Light, divine Holy Light from above, and the radiant Aura of Arcane Magic—colors and energies intertwining in a surreal, ever-shifting storm. The battlefield’s chaos deepened with every passing moment.
Just as the Ember Army’s Steam Tanks led waves of infantry in a fierce offensive, pushing forward to seize the high ground, the Allied Forces’ Angel Divine Offspring descended from the heavens. With a single, slashing blow, one of them split open the Empire’s Iron Beast. Then, alongside Fadalan’s supernatural warriors, they charged forward, reclaiming their lost frontline positions.
But if the enemy managed to retake the high ground, the Ember Army would immediately call in reinforcements—artillery barrages and Bomb-Dropping Dragons would rain down over a hundred shells upon the frontline, reducing the area to an ash-choked wasteland.
And while the Allied Forces’ soldiers scrambled to avoid the explosions, falling one after another in bloody succession, their defensive lines momentarily weakened—those same Steam Tanks and infantry would launch a fresh, brutal offensive, charging forward with relentless momentum.
Across the vast Northern Aether Battlefield, this cycle had repeated countless times. The Empire of Ashen steadily drained the Allied Forces’ strength, wearing them down inch by inch.
“For the Ember Empire!”
“For Sacred Fedran!”
Shouts echoed across the battlefield—frenzied, desperate, yet the Empire’s side held a distinct edge. Why? Because they always carried megaphones.
Now, stripped of the Celestial Legion’s support, the Ember Army and the Northern Aethel Alliance plunged into a grueling, soul-crushing war. Along a front stretching for miles, hundreds of thousands of soldiers fought over strategic positions, refusing to yield. Every single frontline spot changed hands again and again—until the land itself was nothing but a charred, shattered wasteland. Corpses lay scattered in fragments, and even the small hills had been reduced to flat plains by relentless bombardments. They were no longer hills—just scars upon the earth.
Suddenly, a scorching wind surged from the Empire’s frontline. From afar came a majestic, thunderous cry that shook the sky:
“Extinct the Hope of Enemies, Enforcement of Order by Iron Hand—”
A line of Dragon-Bound Holy Knights advanced in perfect formation, their long spears and great shields forming a living fortress. On their banners, vertical pupils and flames danced in the wind. At their head stood Anthony, the first of the Twelve Dragon Guardians of the Oath of the Dragon Sanctuary—renowned as the “Judgment Knight.” His face, marked by the likeness of a Dragonborn, burned with fury. He raised his arm, covered in red scales, and pointed his rifle toward Collins City.
“These insolent Southerners dare to rebel against the Empire of Ashen,” he roared, “and even insult the Dragon Lord with vile words! They have committed unforgivable sins! All Dragon-Bound Holy Knights, hear me! In the name of the Oath of the Dragon Sanctuary—reduce every enemy before us to ash!”
With a thunderous shout, he plunged his long spear forward, bellowing:
“Attack! The Dragon Lord Above All!”
“The Dragon Lord Above All!”
The Holy Knights roared in unison, their golden vertical pupils blazing like embers. With synchronized steps, they advanced rapidly. Crimson Aura flared around them, and the air grew hotter with every stride.
Where they passed, grass ignited. Ember sparks spiraled into the air. Even Goblin infantry instinctively stepped aside, bowing to the overwhelming aura of intimidation—like true dragons, they radiated a presence that made mortals tremble.
Before even touching the enemy, the soldiers were scorched by the Flame Aura. They screamed, only to be pierced through by the spears, turned into sieve-like heaps.
“You will pay dearly for your arrogance!” Anthony snarled, then thrust his spear forward—its tip erupting in a torrent of fire, a dragon’s breath unleashed. The flames swept through the frontline, reducing Allied soldiers to ash.
In mere moments, over a thousand Allied soldiers fell under their blades. The sight did not go unnoticed.
From the heavens, an Angel Divine Offspring descended, wings spread wide, longsword gleaming. He surveyed the battlefield, his gaze falling upon the charred remains of his comrades. His eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.
“Filthy spawn of the Evil Dragon! You were never meant to exist! The Eternal Sun shall grant you—Death!”
With a mighty flap of his wings, he raised his sword. At its tip, a blinding light flared.
“Boom!”
A column of golden-red flame tore from the sky—a divine punishment descending like judgment from above.
The sun’s light reflected in Anthony’s vertical pupils. He showed no fear. Instead, he raised his spear high and commanded:
“Dragon Vein Bond!”
Instantly, hundreds of Dragon-Bound Holy Knights raised their spears. Chains of fire erupted from their weapons, weaving together and linking to Anthony’s body. The power of the Dragon Blood surged through the chains, amplifying his strength.
Anthony, already a Marquis of the Empire and a master of the supernatural, now stood beyond legend. The Dragon Vein Bond unlocked his full potential—his power now transcended mortal limits.
Together, they became one. Their strength converged upon him. Behind him, wings of fire unfurled.
With a mighty leap, he soared into the air, his great shield held before him—positioned to block the inferno that threatened to vaporize a Steam Tank.
“Boom!”
The two forces collided in a cataclysmic explosion. Flames erupted in all directions, smoke choked the sky.
When the dust cleared, Anthony stood unharmed—unscathed. He pointed his spear at the Angel Divine Offspring, smirking.
“We accept only the bestowal of the Great Dragon Lord. As for you? Hah… a celestial bastard pretending to be divine. What are you, really?”
“Die!”
The Angel roared in fury, diving headfirst with sword drawn. Flames erupted from his eyes.
“Clang!”
The sword struck the shield barrier, producing a metallic clash. Protected by the Dragon Blood’s power, the Angel’s Divine Energy Sword was first ever deflected.
Anthony led the charge. The Holy Knights formed an unbreakable wall—shielding, then striking. They parried the Angel’s divine slashes with their great shields, then countered with lightning-fast spear thrusts. The battle reached a stalemate.
Time and again, the Angel swooped down from the sky, swinging his explosive sword—but each time, he failed to break through their iron defense.
Spears stood tall. Banners flew. The Holy Knights chanted in unison, their voices rising like a sacred prayer:
“Extinct the Hope of Enemies, Enforcement of Order by Iron Hand—The Dragon Lord Above All!”
【The Descent of the Dragon Lord】
Suddenly, fire surged into the sky. In the heavens, a crimson phantom formed—a colossal Red Dragon, the Avatar of the Dragon-Bound Holy Knights’ collective spirit, the union of body and faith.
The Red Dragon Incarnation unfurled its wings, opened its maw, and let out a roar so powerful it shattered clouds and scattered entire regiments. Its presence was overwhelming—equal to that of a true Dragon.
The Angel Divine Offspring stared up in shock. His breath caught. He whispered, trembling:
“This… this is… no good!”
A surge of dread flooded his heart. But before he could react, the Red Dragon Incarnation lunged forward—its throat glowing with searing heat, the prelude to its breath.
“Boom—”
A torrent of dragonfire poured forth, turning the sky into a sea of flames. The Angel dodged, but not fast enough. Blazing fire seared his body, blackening half his form.
Seizing the moment, the Dragon-Bound Holy Knights launched their chains—iron, barbed, and heavy. They struck like hunters, wrapping around the Angel’s body.
“Damned Dragon’s Favored!” the Angel snarled, flailing his wings, struggling wildly. The chains clattered like iron rain.
But heat surged through the chains. The metal burned red-hot, branding the Angel’s pale skin with searing wounds. The more he struggled, the deeper he cut himself.
“Mortal! How dare you treat a divine being this way!”
With a final, desperate burst, he tore free—chains snapping like twine. His hair and beard flew wildly. His eyes blazed like twin suns. Light erupted from his body in blinding waves.
Though wounded and disheveled, the Angel glared at the Holy Knights.
“Mortal Entity! You have angered me! I will make you know—”
He didn’t finish.
A deeper, louder roar split the sky. The Red Dragon Incarnation dived, its massive claws closing around the Angel like a cage.
Anthony smirked.
“You think you’re truly a god’s heir? Before the Dragon Lord’s power, you’re nothing but a noisy little sparrow.”
“I will kill you!” the Angel shrieked, slashing wildly with his sword—yet the dragon’s form shifted, becoming fluid, elemental, immune to harm.
But even the Red Dragon Incarnation grew weary after that massive release. It could only maintain the binding now.
As the Angel’s severed wings fluttered down like snow, burning to ash, distant figures—other Angel Divine Offspring, including Lord Karren—spotted the chaos. They turned their wings toward the battlefield, flames blazing, racing to the scene.
They could not afford to lose even one of their kind.
Just then—a massive shadow shot into the sky. The roar of a high-speed engine echoed. A jubilant cry rang out:
“I’m here!”
A towering Half-Dragon descended from above, muscles coiled, chain saw sword spinning at blinding speed. His name—Steel Tide, the first Vitajis Dragon-Scale Warrior, Guild Leader of the Mechanical Divinity, and the storm of the Steel Tide.
The Angel stared in disbelief. The chain saw came down—“Clang!”
It bounced off.
“Holy hell, that head’s hard!” Steel Tide gasped, stunned. The Angel’s protective aura was stronger than he’d imagined—even his chain saw couldn’t penetrate it.
But then—a figure emerged from the flames. A Dragon Oath Mage, her hands glowing with fire, reached out and touched the blade.
A crimson glow surged across the chain saw.
“Shiiiiing!”
The spinning, enchanted teeth tore through the Angel’s aura, slicing through skin, flesh, and bone. With one clean stroke—the head came off.
The body inflated—then exploded into a thousand glowing fragments.
Sunlight energy detonated in the air, sending a massive thermal surge. Pure white wings spiraled upward—only to be incinerated mid-flight.
In horror and disbelief, countless Allied soldiers watched as a noble, powerful Angel Divine Offspring—once untouchable—was erased from existence.
“No—!” Kalen screamed, his voice raw with grief. He saw his comrade fall—helpless, powerless. His eyes burned with fury.
He raised his longsword, his gaze piercing, filled with a storm of rage.
Steel Tide tumbled from the sky, rolling across the ground. He landed perfectly—unharmed, thanks to his iron body.
He wiped golden blood from his chain saw, then stared at his character sheet—where a staggering amount of experience points and contribution credits had just refreshed.
He burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! This is it! I’m rich! Killing and burning is the real gold belt—seizing a Non-Player Character’s kill credit is the shortcut to wealth!”
He didn’t notice the streak of light slicing through the sky.
Then—a massive head flew into the air, blood spraying. It tumbled to the ground, still wearing a grin.
That was Steel Tide’s head.
Lord Karren raised his sword and—with the same brutal precision—cut off the killer of his comrade.
But the Marquis didn’t know… his comrade was truly dead.
And Steel Tide would soon respawn.
His revenge? Meaningless.
“Good riddance! Who cares if he took a kill credit?”
“Seeing War狂哥 die for a single kill and gain so much gold and points… I’m actually jealous!”
“Me too!”
“Brothers, that birdman is worth 100,000 contribution points—HE’S MINE!”
Kalen’s eyes snapped toward the horizon. Dozens of towering Half-Dragons were launched into the sky by specially designed “Human Cannons,” screaming in exhilaration as they plummeted toward the Allied frontline.
And then—there, in the air—a familiar figure. The very Half-Dragon he’d just decapitated.
He was still alive—still shouting mid-air:
“Didn’t see that coming, did you? I’m back!”
Even Kalen, a veteran of countless battles, blinked in disbelief.
“What… the hell?”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Gisgyki Scale Warriors slammed into the frontline, cratering the earth with dozens of massive pits. Dozens of Allied soldiers were crushed beneath their fall.
From the dust, dozens of towering figures rose—laughing, bloodlust in their eyes. They raised explosive rifles, swung chain saws, tossed bombs in rapid succession, and began mowing down the enemy like grass.
These Dragon-Scale warriors were more than soldiers—they were living weapons. Their scales, like dragonhide. Their strength, equal to true dragons. Their weapons—cutting-edge, devastating, the finest in the Empire.
They slaughtered without mercy, carving through the frontline like an endless lawnmower, harvesting life force with every swing. Each kill turned into cold, hard numbers—gold coins, experience points, faction contribution.
(End of Chapter)
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