Chapter 794: The War Reaches White Heat
Crack!
The thick scales of the Dragon Beast shattered instantly, shards flying in all directions. Flesh ripped open. The fearsome head split cleanly down the middle, and scalding dragon blood splattered across Steel Tide’s face.
But Steel Tide was more ecstatic than ever. Ignoring the crimson rain, he wiped his face with a rough swipe and roared, “Blood Sacrifice to the Blood God! Skull Offering to the Skull Throne!”
Even the charging Dragon Beasts faltered, their advance halted by the sheer aura radiating from him. They stared, eyes narrowed, uncertain.
That split-second hesitation was all Steel Tide needed. He raised his massive, absurdly oversized Blast Arrow Rifle, laughed wildly, and squeezed the trigger.
Boom!
The gunshot echoed like thunder across the sky—deafening, earth-shaking. Air imploded. Smoke surged. Before the bullet even struck, it detonated midair, unleashing a storm of jagged metal fragments. The Dragon Beast’s scales and hide were torn open like paper. Organs burst apart in a violent mess.
Howl—
A gut-wrenching wail pierced the air. The beast collapsed with a thunderous crash, lifeless.
Behind Steel Tide, now free from the flank assault, Adrian finally unleashed his full fury. He clashed head-on with a full-grown Green Dragon.
Facing the Dragon’s dive attack, Adrian’s eyes blazed. In his pupils, a slow, radiant sun spun—blinding light erupting from them.
The Green Dragon flinched instinctively. It squeezed its eyes shut, flailing wildly with its claws, slashing at Adrian.
But Adrian remained calm. He waited. Then, with a single, fluid motion, he swung his sword. The blade carved a graceful arc through the air.
Swish—
A sharp crack. Then a scream of agony.
The Dragon’s forearm seemed to be severed by an invisible golden thread. In an instant, the massive claw fell away—clean, smooth, severed cleanly. Crimson flesh and bone were exposed.
Adrian had severed the Green Dragon’s right claw with one stroke.
The Dragon flailed its wings in panic, fleeing upward with shock in its eyes, shouting, “Human! How dare you—”
But Adrian paid no mind. He leapt skyward—hundreds of meters in a single bound. Golden wings unfurled behind him, like an angel descending from the heavens.
He raised his longsword, poured every ounce of strength into the strike, and plunged it downward with terrifying momentum. The blade glowed with a blinding, sun-like fire, forming a radiant sword over ten meters long—the Sun God’s blade.
“For the Eternal Lord of Light—”
With a furious war cry, the golden longsword pierced through the Dragon’s chest, through its heart, and burst out through its back, piercing through scales and skin.
The Green Dragon reared its head, screaming in agony, then plummeted from the sky. It crashed into a nearby mound, impaled, pinned to the ground by the golden blade.
Dying, it coughed up blood, struggling to raise its head. “Human… Queen Tiamat… will not… spare you…”
“Pathetic monsters,” Adrian sneered. He stepped forward, preparing to deliver the final blow.
Suddenly, a shadow shot out from the distance.
Whirr—
A chain-saw sword spun through the air, slicing through the Dragon’s long neck in a single, clean cut.
Steel Tide, ecstatic, scavenged the corpse, then turned to Adrian, eyes blazing with righteous fury. “Adrian-sama! Such filth doesn’t deserve your hands! I’ll finish it for you!”
“Thanks,” Adrian said, watching Steel Tide’s wild excitement. A twitch crossed his lips. He didn’t understand why these Undead from the North were so obsessed with killing—so willing to fight over the “right” to slay an enemy.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He raised his sword again and plunged back into the blood-soaked battlefield.
Steel Tide stared at the system panel, where a new message flashed: “You have slain a mature Green Dragon.” Ecstasy flooded him. His face lit up with joy.
“This isn’t just an NPC… This is my rebirth father! Forgive me, I must bow before you!”
Without hesitation, he followed Adrian, snatching the kill credit left behind.
After the Dragon Worship Church unleashed its devastating arcane barrage, the Players regained momentum and surged forward, joining the frontlines.
Boom—
A whistle screamed. The ground trembled under the crushing tread of hundreds of steam tanks, rolling forward through thick, billowing smoke. Their aura matched that of the Dragon Horde.
“What… what are those? Iron monsters?”
“Unbelievable size!”
Duke Franz raised his greatsword and bellowed, “Clear the way! They’re our allies!”
Human soldiers scrambled aside, opening a wide path. The steam tanks roared through, their massive frames shaking the earth.
Far away, atop a ridge of Forest Land Drakes, an evil Dragon Priest stood grim-faced.
“Damn it… more of those strange machines.”
He raised his scepter, voice rasping. “Crush them! They’re hollow shells made by humans—powerless before Dragon Blood!”
The Dragon Beasts roared and charged forward, fearless.
But then—Artillery fire.
The thunderous roar of cannons drowned out the Dragon’s growls and the Priest’s orders. Thick barrels roared simultaneously, spewing flames and smoke.
Boom!
Explosions tore through the Dragon Horde. Several beasts were blown to pieces at the center. The evil Priest was hurled into the air, reduced to a charred corpse.
Others were maimed by shrapnel, wounded, dying.
Seizing the moment, the Empire’s steam tanks charged forward—ramming, crushing. Even the strongest Dragon Beast was nothing but flesh and blood. Against steel, they were no match.
Tracks rolled over the battlefield, leaving behind rivers of blood and scattered, fragmented limbs.
Meanwhile, under the control of Mechanical Divinity Players, a dozen Aether Armors marched forward. Energy cannons fired repeatedly. Their massive power swords, several meters long, sliced through the thick hides of Dragon Beasts as if they were paper.
But the Dragon Worship Church wasn’t defenseless. Mountain-sized Dragon Blood Colossi charged forward, guided by cultists. They clashed with the steam tanks and Aether Armors.
They could breathe lethal, armor-piercing breaths—corrosive enough to melt steel, killing the vulnerable drivers inside.
And the common players fought too—each in their own way, slaughtering cultists and Dragon Beasts.
“Kill them!”
“For the Empire!”
“Empire of Ash—Long Live!!”
Warriors charged into the fray with longswords. Mages hurled spells. Rogues lurked in shadows, firing deadly arrows. Even reckless new players strapped explosives to themselves, charging into the frontlines—turning into human bombs.
And the numbers…
Tens of thousands had accepted this War Mission. Worse still—they were Undying. After a brief cooldown, they respawned instantly in Green Valley Town.
No matter how frenzied or numerous the Dragon Beasts, they were overwhelmed. They drowned in a sea of Players, unable to break through the defensive lines. Instead, they became prey—objects of fierce competition.
Often, a single Guardian Dragon Beast would be surrounded by a hundred Players. Arrows pierced its body like quills on a porcupine. It screamed in agony, then collapsed—bleeding out.
Players cheered, rushing toward the corpse like starving wolves, scavenging every scrap—skin, bone, even marrow.
“Resources!”
“Stop seizing! That dragon hide’s mine!”
Human Army and Player forces continued their relentless slaughter. They advanced swiftly, nearing Linying City.
On the city walls, Ulrichia stood, her expression grim. “Damned Empire scum… We must eliminate this nuisance.”
She closed her eyes. Her face twisted with rage. “Why… why are the Altars still decreasing? What is Grotar doing? That useless fool!”
Beneath the city, in the Dragon Breeding Grounds, Singo stood before a shattered altar, megaphone in hand, addressing a thousand ragged civilians armed with firearms.
“Take up your rifles… Survive!”
His voice echoed through the dark cave, bouncing back again and again.
“Survive!”
The woman who’d been rescued earlier stood at the front, rifle in hand, voice firm.
That single word spread like a plague. First a few. Then dozens. Then nearly everyone in the cavern roared in unison:
“Survive! Survive!”
Roar—
A chaotic storm of wings filled the cave. Dozens of pseudo-drakes and hybrid dragons surged forward from the depths.
Stuffed Bun shot the first one dead with a single arrow. “Don’t fear! They’re flesh and blood! Just like the others—they can be killed!”
People loaded ammunition, followed Singo’s commands, raising rifles, aiming at the sky.
Bang!
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire echoed through the cave. Though their aim was clumsy, the barrage brought down several beasts. They fell screaming to the ground.
But still, some Dragon Beasts broke through the hail of bullets, diving into the crowd—causing panic.
Then—a man in the crowd suddenly bulged.
His torn clothes ripped apart. In an instant, he stood six meters tall, a muscular, bald monk. He leapt into the air, fists trailing gale-force winds.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
He rained down punches, each one a devastating blow. Blood blossoms exploded in the air. The Dragon Beasts were reduced to meat scraps.
Stuffed Bun stared, mouth agape. “Great Wēi Tianlong? How did he get here?”
“And us!”
A chorus of cracks echoed through the crowd. Dozens of men surged upward, their bodies expanding. Clothes burst open. Muscles rippled under gleaming skin. Their heads shone—coated in a golden powder.
—The famed Eighteen Arhats of the Shaolin Temple Guild.
They charged into the Dragon Beast horde, fists and feet flying. Blood sprayed. The monsters fled in terror.
Stuffed Bun gaped. “No way… so many?”
Singo smiled. “Some Players must’ve found a way to infiltrate Linying City. Probably a few of these ‘sacrificial offerings’ are Players too.”
Sure enough, as the uprising grew, more Players revealed themselves—Warriors, Mages, Rogues, Paladins—each using their unique skills to slip in.
Even Langli BaiTiao blended in, dressed as a refugee, his smug face showing through. “A狼, I’ve come to avenge you!”
Then—a furious roar split the air.
“HUMANS! How dare you defile Queen Tiamat’s Altar?! You will face the cruelest divine punishment!”
All eyes turned toward the sound. A massive Green Dragon flapped its wings, riding a blood-scented gale, descending from the distance.
—Young Green Dragon Grotar.
“God!”
“Fire! Fire!”
Civilians scrambled, raising rifles, aiming at the sky. Bullets flew.
But the mature Green Dragon’s scales were thick and resilient. Bullets barely left white marks.
Grotar merely exhaled acid. Twelve people screamed as they melted in the corrosive stream, reduced to broken skeletons.
Calmly, Grotar descended. “Is this your strength? A few crude toys? How pathetic.”
“In the face of Tiamat’s power… your struggles are meaningless!”
He spread his wings, roared to the heavens, unleashing a colossal aura of draconic dominance.
Then—a single arrow pierced the air, screaming like a banshee.
It struck him in the throat. Instantly, an explosion erupted—a thunderous Boom that shook the cave.
Grotar was thrown back, his face blackened. Furious, he glared at the source—Singo, standing firm, bow in hand, staring back unflinching.
“Recognize me?”
“You… You’re that traitor who deceived me! Run now—I’ll hunt each of you down, one by one, and tear you to pieces!”
The mature Green Dragon—CR 15–16, a near-Legendary Monster capable of destroying a small town—was no longer invincible.
For now, the Players had already slain Ancient Green Dragons.
Singo surveyed the dozens of elite players around him—each wielding unique skills. He smirked.
“Who chases whom…? That’s still undecided.”
(End of Chapter)
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