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Chapter 791: Dragon Shadow Over the City
Northwestern Seleucus, Linying City.
Above the city, Wyverns flapped their jagged wings chaotically through the sky, roaring incessantly. They surged upward like a dense, churning storm cloud, their wings clashing and scraping against one another, producing a cacophony of harsh, grinding sounds.
On the earth below, mist clung thickly to the land. Toxic Lizards, Guardian Dragon Beasts, Forest Land Drakes, Multi-Headed Green Lizards, and Withered Aelod—creatures all bearing the bloodline of dragons—lifted their heads and let out long, mournful roars into the fog. Their narrow vertical pupils glowed with a deep, unsettling light.
A vast number of Cultists in deep green and black robes gathered beneath the city walls, murmuring prayers in low, reverent tones—like a patchwork tide lapping at the base of a crumbling shore.
Green Dragons perched atop the city’s ramparts, their bodies massive and imposing. At the very peak, standing atop the highest watchtower, was the famed Toxic Emerald—the eldest daughter of Ulrichia, Lord of the Putrid Marsh.
Her colossal frame shimmered with emerald-green scales, her crown a jagged, thorn-like crest. Her golden vertical pupils burned with pride and disdain.
She was a female Ancient Green Dragon—cruel, cunning, and obsessed with devouring Elven maidens. Her bounty, offered by the Serrynia Kingdom, had once reached tens of thousands of gold coins.
In the expansion of the Green Dragon Sect, Ulrichia had disguised herself as a powerful Shaman wielding natural magic, earning the trust of Linying City’s Duke. At the Duke’s daughter’s grand wedding feast, she and her followers slaughtered every guest, wiping out the entire noble class. She even ate the bride before the groom’s eyes, seizing control of the city in one blood-soaked act.
That “bloody wedding” became a legend across the continent—a tale whispered in fear, spreading panic among the people. And Ulrichia’s name echoed far and wide.
Ulrichia’s gloomy gaze swept over her devoted Cultists and dragon beasts below. She let out a rasping, prolonged roar, then spoke in a deep, commanding voice:
“Brothers and sisters, these lowly humans seek to challenge our dominion. They dare to destroy the noble bloodline of Tiamat—our sacred lineage, forged in death!”
“But this is nothing but a foolish fantasy! The wings of the Dragon Queen shall blot out the sky. Her divine body shall descend upon the earth, and dragons shall once again rule this world!”
In her claw, a Dragonhead Scepter materialized. She raised it high. The gemstone-encrusted horns flared with piercing shrieks, and the altar deep within the Dragon Breeding Ground trembled in resonance. Black light erupted from the earth, surging upward in violent waves.
In an instant, waves of dark, malevolent divine power gathered in the sky—churning like storm clouds. Then, they coalesced into a monstrous, awe-inspiring form: five heads, five colors, scales like jagged armor, horns of terror—Tiamat, the Mother of Monsters.
The Cultists outside the city gate erupted into frenzy. They collapsed to their knees en masse, screaming prayers, howling in ecstasy, crying out with voices trembling from sheer terror and devotion.
“Tiamat! Mother of Five Heads, Sovereign of Scales and Claws, Daughter of the Dark Throne! Grant us claws to tear open our enemies’ throats! Grant us breath to annihilate the insects beneath us! Grant us the Dragon’s wing to shelter the earth! Let all who defy You become dust upon Your crown!”
Before the words had even faded, the phantom image roared—a thunderous bellow that shook the very foundations of reality. Five pairs of profound vertical pupils flared open, shooting beams of blinding light across the land.
That light swept over the earth, wrapping around every faithful worshipper, every dragon beast. Their bodies pulsed with a dark aura, their eyes igniting with frenzied red flames, exuding a thick, coppery stench.
“Let all who defy You become dust upon Your crown!”
“For the Mother of Monsters!”
“ROAR—!”
Their cries grew louder, more desperate, more primal. The Dragon Beasts in the mist, the Vein-born Drakes in the wilds—all turned their gaze skyward, roaring in unison.
Howls and screams blended into a tidal wave of sound, a deafening, soul-shattering roar that could make even the strongest mortal tremble in terror.
Inside Linying City, the filthy, starving humans—treated like beasts—huddled in dark corners, shivering in the filth of boiling blood, hearts pounding with dread. They lifted their heads, staring up at the colossal phantom image of the Dragon Queen. Their dull eyes reflected nothing but despair and fear.
“What… is that?”
“A god… a god…”
Watching the fanatical, bloodthirsty followers, Ulrichia gave a slow, satisfied nod. She let out a low, rumbling growl.
“Those insolent enemies are coming. My people, rulers of the earth—prepare to destroy them!”
“Destroy them!”
“Feanso belongs to the Dragon!”
“Crush these fools beneath our might!”
The Cultists waved their weapons wildly, screaming in manic frenzy. The city wall trembled violently. The gates groaned open, creaking wide with a deep, thunderous roar. From within, shadows as large as hills began to emerge—slow, deliberate, rolling forward.
Boom!
Dust flew into the air as the colossal figures stepped into the open. Standing nearly fifteen meters tall, they resembled dragons bearing hills upon their backs. Their spines were armored with heavy, specialized saddles, each carrying nearly twenty fully armed Cultists—living fortresses on the march. Each step sent tremors through the ground.
These were the Dragon Blood Colossi—giant constructs stitched together from dragon flesh. Possessing the might and breath of true dragons, they were the most fearsome war machines in the arsenal of the Dragon Worship Church. They could crush entire armies of a thousand men, reduce city walls to rubble with ease.
Throughout the Church’s expansion, these Colossi had captured over a hundred human cities, becoming the ultimate nightmare for every surviving citizen of Seleucus.
On the city walls, the Green Dragons laughed with feral glee, their wings beating the air in wild, mocking spirals.
“Hahaha! These homeless dogs still dare to challenge the Green Dragon Sect? What a foolish fantasy!”
“In the face of dragon might, those pitiful humans will be crushed to pulp, torn apart by our claws! How dare they reject their fate as slaves and seek death!”
“Let’s see who kills more humans. Loser pays ten gold coins!”
“Hmph. Laoer, don’t think I don’t know you’re good at illusions and lies. You’ll try to cheat!”
They soared through the sky, playfully chasing one another, roaring with unbridled joy. Even when acid droplets from their breath splattered down and killed a few Cultists, they paid no mind.
This was Linying City—the Green Dragon Sect’s stronghold, their sacred domain. They were the masters here. All other life served them as slaves. Only kin mattered. To the rest, they were nothing.
Yet, atop the highest wall, the Ancient Green Dragon Ulrichia’s gaze flickered with unease. Her expression darkened. A faint frown touched her lips.
“Something’s wrong… Why are there three fewer Dragon Blood Altars?”
She called to Grotar, a young Green Dragon overseeing the Inner District, her voice low and sharp.
“Grotar. Any unusual activity in the Inner District?”
Grotar flew forward, bowing respectfully.
“Mother. A messenger arrived from Kazul—a Red Dragon hatchling, still barely grown, scales not fully formed. He claims he wishes to meet you and beg forgiveness. I’ve imprisoned him in the Tower of Sin.”
He paused, then added awkwardly, “However… the wretched humans failed in their duty. That hatchling escaped. Fear not. I’ve already executed the entire lot.”
Ulrichia narrowed her eyes, her golden gaze clouded with suspicion.
“The Red Dragon Sect has never admitted guilt for their treachery. They’ve even imprisoned our slaves. Why would they send a repentant envoy?”
Her expression shifted—sudden, violent.
“Fool! That was never a Red Dragon envoy at all. You’ve been deceived!”
Grotar recoiled, shaking his head in protest.
“Impossible, Mother! That hatchling had a servant—a creature whose aura matches that of the Dragonblood Sorcerer who attacked me earlier! They’re clearly in league!”
Ulrichia lunged forward, striking Grotar across the face with a thunderous slap. Warm blood and shattered scales flew through the air.
“By Tiamat’s name! How could I bear such a foolish son!”
“Have you not considered… that the sorcerer was never from the Red Dragon Sect to begin with?”
At that moment, the corrupt dragon ritualist from the Dragon Breeding Ground shot through the air, breathless and panicked.
“Ulrichia, Lady! Disaster! The sacrificial offerings within the Breeding Ground have revolted!”
“Someone freed the lowly humans—there’s an uprising! Three altars have already been destroyed… now, four!”
“Useless fools! What purpose do you serve? How can a band of unarmed weaklings challenge you?”
The ritualist wiped sweat from his brow, stammering.
“M-My lady… they wield strange iron rods. The bullets they fire can pierce even the thick hide of a Guardian Dragon Beast… It’s a weapon from the North—some kind of rifle.”
“Rifles?”
Ulrichia froze. Her eyes widened in shock.
“No… It’s the Ember Empire. That Red Dragon’s subordinates. Emperor Kai Xiusu of the Ember Empire! He dares to disrupt His Majesty’s plan!”
Her voice trembled as she spoke the name.
As a high-ranking figure in the Dragon Worship Church, Ulrichia knew full well that Emperor Kai Xiusu was no loyal “Dragon Prince” as the Church claimed. He was, in truth, Tiamat’s most rebellious offspring.
If the Empire’s followers broke into the Dragon Breeding Ground and destroyed the Dragon Blood Altars, the consequences would be catastrophic—even she could not withstand the Dragon Queen’s wrath.
And the timing was too perfect—right as war was about to begin.
Ulrichia had to focus on the main battlefield. She couldn’t afford to leave.
She turned sharply, glaring at Grotar with fury.
“Look what you’ve done, fool!”
“War is upon us. We have no time! Take your subordinates to the Breeding Ground—eliminate every invader. Kill every sacrificial offering that defies us!”
“Yes, Mother.” Grotar muttered, his voice dripping with resentment. He spread his wings and took flight, his heart burning with rage.
Damn humans! How dare they deceive him? How dare they treat him like a fool!
Grotar would tear them apart—every last one—until they screamed in hellish agony and despair.
A piercing horn blast echoed from the horizon.
Far away, the tide of forged steel began to rise—gleaming silver armor, sacred sun emblems fluttering in the wind.
This was Duke Franz’s main force—eight thousand strong, composed of scattered remnants from across Seleucus, unified through discipline and iron will.
In the past month, Duke Franz had purchased vast quantities of standardized armor and weapons from the Empire, merged chaotic units, and forged a battle-hardened, unwavering Iron Army.
At the front, the Sun Priest in golden-red robes raised his scepter high, chanting with fervor:
“Greatness be to You, Keeper of the Ever-Burning Wheel, Marker of the Golden Crown Sundial, Amanata—Avatar of Order Flame!”
“Your war chariot shall crush the spines of beasts. Your spear shall pierce the throat of darkness. Wherever Your blade points, Your light shall split open every shadow that defies time!”
Baron Adrian raised his longsword, radiating a gentle glow of divine sunlight.
“For Sacred Fedran—victory!”
The soldiers roared in unison, raising their spears and swords, clashing metal against metal in a sharp, ringing chorus.
But then—just as their battle spirit soared—something in the distance shattered their courage.
There, above Linying City, loomed the monstrous silhouette of a five-headed dragon—its form casting a shadow over the entire city. Wyverns danced in the sky like dark clouds, wings flapping wildly.
Within the mist that swallowed the land, countless shadows stirred. Deep, glowing eyes flickered in the fog.
The sight was apocalyptic—a vision of the end times. Many soldiers remembered the days when dragons had burned their homes, slaughtered their villages, turned their towns to ash.
“Amanata above…”
“God…”
“Great Eternal Lord of Light… how can we face such monsters?”
They whispered prayers, trembling. Despite their eight thousand strong, they felt insignificant before the overwhelming power of the Dragon Worship Church.
Even Duke Franz grew solemn, staring at the phantom image.
“The Dragon Queen’s phantom… I never thought the Church had grown this powerful. If we do not stop it, that dark deity may truly descend into our world.”
Behind him, a noble officer’s eyes dimmed with despair.
“Lord Duke… can our army truly defeat such an apocalypse?”
Indeed, even the full might of ancient Seleucus might not have prevailed against this dragon army. How could a ragtag force of scattered remnants hope to stand?
Adrian turned to gaze across the endless swamp, forest, and plain.
“We are not the only ones fighting the Dragon Worship Church.”
(End of Chapter)
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