The Ember Dragon Chapter 705: Cultivators and Angels - Novel Cool

Chapter 705: Cultivators and Angels

"Hahaha! My Chain Saw Sword is starving for blood!"

"Give me your lives!"

Dragon-Scaled Cultivators, wielding Experience Points-Explosive Disruptors, charged forward with relentless fury, their Chain Saw Swords flashing in the air as they surged toward the City of Saint Michael.

Born from Imperial Genetic Modification Technology, their assault tactics were unlike any ordinary soldier’s. While others ran on two legs, these warriors burrowed into the "Skyward Cannons" and launched themselves into the sky like projectiles. Others clung to the claws of Wyverns, releasing their grip just before reaching the city, plummeting like falling stones—each impact alone enough to shatter dozens of Flesh-and-Blood Thrace Soldiers into mangled pulp, their bodies scattered into the air like ragdolls.

Boom!

The Steel Tide descended from the heavens with a thunderous roar, crashing onto the city walls and turning a dozen Thrace Soldiers into meaty cushions beneath its armored frame.

"Hahaha! What a glorious day—begins with a boarding!"

The warrior was utterly immersed in character, having forgotten his status as Mechanical Divinity Guild Leader. He was no longer a tactician, but a true War Maniac.

"Goodness, what a beast!"

"Kill it!"

"How could this Dragon's Claw be here?!"

The Thrace Soldiers, though panic-stricken, still closed in, firing their antiquated double-barreled hunting rifles—weapons long obsolete since the Empire’s Elimination Campaigns.

Bang! Bang!

The scorching lead bullets struck the Steel Tide’s exoskeletal armor and ricocheted off effortlessly, leaving not a single scratch.

"Still want to fight back?" The Steel Tide raised a brow, lifted his Experience Points-Explosive Disruptor, and aimed its cannon-like barrel at the terrified soldiers.

Bang!

A blinding flash of flame erupted from the rifle’s muzzle. Before impact, the bullet exploded into a storm of shrapnel—metal fragments tearing through the panicked soldiers like a razor wind, shredding them apart in bloody chaos.

Bang! Bang!

More deafening roars followed as the Steel Tide unleashed volley after volley, carving a sweeping net of fire across the battlefield. Flesh flew in every direction, bodies torn apart, the air thick with blood and screams.

"Amanata! Monsters! It’s nothing short of a monster!"

"Don’t get close!"

"Sun God above—how can anything be so impervious? Even bullets can’t harm it!"

Before the mangled corpses of their comrades, the Thrace Soldiers finally lost all courage. Faces pale, legs trembling, they retreated in uncontrollable terror, driven by pure instinct to flee the abomination before them.

"Tch tch. That’s exactly the feeling I want."

The Steel Tide exhaled a puff of gunsmoke from his rifle’s barrel, then drew his Chain Saw Sword with a fierce grin.

"Since you won’t come to me… I’ll come to you!"

With a mighty leap, he plunged into the chaos of the crowd.

"Gods!"

"He’s coming!"

Faced with the Dragon-Scaled Cultivator’s onslaught, the Thrace Soldiers scattered like frightened sheep—utterly disoriented, paralyzed by panic.

Whoosh!

The Steel Tide’s aura flared violently. A single punch cracked the air, and the nearest soldier’s skull burst open like a watermelon, brains and blood splattering the ground.

Next, he seized another soldier by the throat and hurled him off the towering city wall.

"No! No! Help—!"

The soldier’s scream was cut short. Seconds later, a heavy crack echoed from below—his body crushed into pulp upon impact.

Around him, soldiers fled in terror, shoving each other, crying out in desperation. Yet some still saw the truth—they rallied, raising their blades in a final, desperate rebellion, howling through gritted teeth:

"Kill him! Fight to the death! If we don’t destroy this monster, there’s no future for the Kingdom!"

"Right! Together! I don’t believe this thing has a weakness!"

Instantly, a storm of swords—longswords and bayonets—swung toward the Steel Tide’s back, aiming for the neck, the head, the vital points.

"Come on, then! Battlefield supremacy begins now!"

With a roar, the Steel Tide spun around, Chain Saw Sword whirling at blinding speed. He slashed sideways in a brutal arc.

Spines—

The sound of flesh and bone tearing filled the air, sending chills down every spine.

Like ripping wet rags, the Chain Saw severed the ambushers in half, blood gushing from the wounds and spraying across the Steel Tide’s face.

"Ah, bliss! Bliss!"

Drenched in blood, the Steel Tide surged forward like a chosen warrior of Baal, mowing down enemies with wild abandon.

Whirr—

Another slash. The chain saw tore through flesh and bone, severing a soldier’s shoulder and half his upper torso, organs spilling out in a grotesque cascade.

This was the ultimate aesthetic of brutality—the Dragon-Scaled Cultivator’s art of slaughter. It struck terror not just in the flesh, but deep within the soul, evoking primal, unshakable fear.

"Monster!"

"Amanata!"

Now, the Imperial soldiers could no longer even think of resistance. Only raw, animal panic remained.

Bang!

Another thunderous gunshot. The Experience Points-Explosive Disruptor flared with flame, and a wave of Thrace Soldiers collapsed, lifeless, on the ground.

With his allies annihilated, the Steel Tide turned, his eyes glowing with cold fire, locking onto another group.

"What… what should we do?"

"No way…"

The targeted soldiers froze, legs shaking. They had witnessed with their own eyes the monstrous slaughter.

Boom!!

A shadow swept across the sky. The Steel Tide laughed triumphantly.

"Come on! Who dares face me?!"

Under the relentless assault of the Dragon-Scaled Cultivators, the walls of Saint Michael were already riddled with cracks and breaches. Corpses piled high, the city choked with death.

Meanwhile, the Empire’s firepower intensified—Wyverns, laden with ammunition, swooped through the sky again and again, raining down bombs like a relentless storm.

Unending explosions shook the city. Those hiding inside cowered in fear, trembling in corners, paralyzed.

Then came the great airships—like leviathans of the sky—gliding in unison, casting vast shadows that swallowed the city beneath them.

Any Thrace Soldier who dared peek from cover was instantly torn apart by the belly-mounted Elemental Laser Cannons and Gatling Guns, reduced to nothing.

"Help!"

"God, save us!"

The soldiers huddled in the dark corners, praying desperately to their deities, begging for mercy.

But then—thud… thud… thud…

Heavy footsteps echoed. From the streets, towering Giant Armors emerged, lowering their heads as they advanced into the alleyways, extending Gatling Cannons toward the cowering soldiers.

Bang!

"Blasphemers! You shall all face Judgment!"

A furious voice boomed from above. An Angel Divine Offspring surged forward, wings flaring, swinging its Flame Sword. Golden light slashed through the air—Wyverns in flight lost their wings, steam tanks on the ground were split in two, even the Dragon-Scaled Cultivator mid-slaughter had its head severed in an instant.

"Surround her!"

"That’s the enemy’s Duke!"

"Over here! A huge monster! Can’t see the level!"

Instantly, hundreds of Players swarmed forward, brandishing swords, unleashing fire, thunderbolts, frost, and every other spell imaginable, attacking the Angel with everything they had.

Some even climbed onto the Angel’s body, wrapping themselves around it in a tight, desperate knot.

"Judgment!"

The Angel roared, its eyes blazing with golden fire. Wings spread wide—millions of golden beams erupted outward, bathing the surrounding Players in searing light. In an instant, they burned to ash.

But more soldiers and Players poured in, a relentless tide of bullets and shells.

Bang!

A bullet, etched with piercing magic, tore through the Angel’s shield, then pierced its shoulder. A gush of golden-red blood erupted, feathers raining from the sky.

The Angel, now enraged, spun violently, roaring, "Foolish mortal! You are courting death!"

But then—ziiiiip!

A silver arrow, impossibly precise, sliced through the shield, through the flesh, and exploded inside the Angel’s body. The impact charred half its frame.

The Angel screamed in agony. But the Players showed no mercy—attacks grew more vicious, more cruel.

A Dragon Holy Knight, clad in heavy scale armor and wielding a great shield, stood in front, drawing the Angel’s wrath. Behind him, archers, mages, sorcerers—ranged specialists—poured relentless damage.

Take the infamous rogue Player, Night Poet, who gripped a hand crossbow dripping with thick, black mist. He targeted the Angel’s lower regions—surprisingly effective.

Spines—

A pitch-black arrow tore through the air, striking true—right into the Angel’s rear.

The Angel’s face twisted in shock and fury, then erupted in rage. Wings flared violently, trembling.

"Got him!" Night Poet grinned, letting out a triumphant shout.

"You filthy wretch! You should be eternally burned in the Sun’s Divine Fire—your very soul vaporized!"

Undeterred, the Angel charged, sword flashing. In a single motion, it decapitated Night Poet. Blood sprayed three meters into the air.

"Whoa?!"

The onlookers stared, stunned. "No way… He really pulled off the Aggro! The infamous ‘Four Beasts’ are that powerful?"

At that moment—ROAR!

A deafening dragon cry split the sky. Singo, riding a Two-Headed Dragon, dived from above, drawing his bow. A glowing Magic Mark flared upon the Angel’s chest.

But the Angel, already grievously wounded, could barely react. It raised its Flame Sword, glaring at the distant player.

Zzzzzzz—

A thunderous crack. The arrow, blazing with light, tore through the sky like a falling star—piercing straight through the Angel’s chest, driving deep into its pulsing heart.

The final termination.

"No… how…?"

The Angel spat golden blood, knees buckling. Its wings drooped lifelessly. How could mere mortals—so lowly—defeat me, a Divine Offspring?

"Whoa! The boss is down!"

"Another hardcore player!"

"Seriously? After all that work, he just snatches the kill?"

"Quick, keep dealing damage—maybe we can grab a few experience points!"

"Get better. If you can’t get the kill, why blame me? Think about your own flaws!"

Singo circled high above, a cold smirk on his face, then turned his Two-Headed Dragon and vanished into the clouds.

The remaining Players, furious, rained down a final barrage of attacks on the dying Angel, venting their rage.

But then—glow!

The Angel’s eyes flared with divine light. Its heart pulsed with a blinding radiance, nearly illuminating the entire sky. A massive Energy Wave surged outward.

"That’s—!"

"The boss is going to Self-Detonate!"

"Run!"

The Players screamed in terror—but it was too late.

A blinding explosion erupted from the Angel’s core. The sheer force annihilated everything nearby, blowing a colossal hole in the city wall.

"Lord, we must go—leave now!"

"But this is the City of Saint Michael—the fortress of the east! If Saint Michael falls, the Empire of Ashen will threaten August, threaten His Majesty!"

Tirena hesitated. She had come here on Wilhelm’s quest. Failure meant her prestige at home would be shattered.

Then—thud!

Misha, riding atop Smaug, detected Tirena’s trail from afar. Her aura flared as she pointed fiercely at the fallen Angel.

"Chase her! That’s a Divine Noble Duke of Thrace—Wilhelm’s loyalist. She must not escape!"

Boom!

A massive fireball, crackling with raw energy, shot from the distance.

Tirena swiftly folded her wide wings, shielding herself from the blast.

Beside her, the Angel Divine Offspring fought desperately against the Wyverns, roaring: "Lord Duke! The city is lost! We must return to August—to audience His Majesty Wilhelm! Your existence is more vital than this city! Only the strength of the Angel Divine Offspring… only King Amanatara’s power can save Thrace!"

"Go!"

Tirena clenched her teeth, then raised her Flame Sword.

A beam of light erupted from its tip, piercing the heavens. A solemn hymn echoed through the air, and the space around her trembled violently.

"Lock down the surrounding space!" Misha barked, then waved her hand. Chains shot forth, weaving through the air, solidifying the magic web.

"An insignificant Dragon’s Favored? How dare you hinder me! I am a chosen of King Amanatara, the Duke of Thrace!"

The divine power blazing from Tirena’s sword was overwhelming. The light tore through the sky, and the Angel Divine Offspring—along with its companions—dissolved into holy light, vanishing into nothing.

By the time Misha arrived, the Angel had disappeared. Only wreckage remained.

She sat atop Smaug, surveying the city—riddled with holes, soldiers wailing in the gunsmoke, the air thick with despair. Her gaze was cold, unwavering.

"Your so-called Thrace… will soon be erased beneath the Iron Hooves of the Empire."

(End of Chapter)

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