Chapter 818: Above the Chasm
“Good work.”
The truth was, Frontline’s Engineers had already planted bombs beneath the Stone Bridge long ago—waiting for the moment when enemy forces were most concentrated. Their goal? To maximize losses for the Dragon Worship Church during the bridge’s collapse.
With the Stone Bridge shattered, everything reset. The Dragon Worship Church’s army remained trapped under relentless Imperial heavy bombardment, unable to escape.
But now, the Church’s spellcasters finally stepped forward. Raising their staves, they chanted incantations. Pure force field energy surged into the air, forming towering, semi-transparent bridges that arched across the chasm.
Unless dismantled by a high-level dissolution spell, these force field barriers were nearly impervious—immune to all physical impact.
And with these bridges in place, under the fanatical cries of the Evil Dragon Priests, the descendants of the Blue Dragon and their cultists surged forward—wave after wave—charging toward the far side of the Lock Great Rift.
Along the way, countless Evil Dragon Descendants and cultists plummeted into the abyss, falling into the depths below.
In the chasm’s dark heart, a towering pile of corpses lay stacked—rotting, twisted, horrifying. Their deaths were grotesque: bodies riddled with bullet holes, then crushed into pulp upon impact.
Jude roared, raising his Dragonhead Scepter. Dark clouds gathered above the Allied Forces’ frontline, swirling with fury. Lightning split the sky—crackling, roaring—striking down and annihilating several Imperial fire positions in an instant.
At last, after paying a terrible price in life force, the vanguard of the Dragon Worship Church—the first dozen towering, powerful Blue Dragon Descendants—reached the northern bank.
They roared like thunder, brandishing electrified longswords, slashing through the air with crackling fury as they charged into the ranks of the Imperial soldiers.
“Boom!” Electric sparks exploded everywhere. Sandbag fortifications were cleaved in two. Behind them, the Imperial soldiers manning machine guns were vaporized, reduced to charred remains.
Within minutes, the Blue Dragon Descendants had torn through the Imperial frontline’s machine gun positions. Dozens of Blue Dragon Descendants and cultists surged forward like a rising tide, overwhelming the frontlines and drowning the last Imperial defenders beneath their relentless advance.
Seeing this, Adrian raised his longsword high. Golden light erupted from its blade, blindingly bright. It pierced through several Evil Dragon Descendants in a single strike.
“Comrades of Seleucus! My people of Amanata! Follow me! We will reclaim our homeland with our own hands! We will drive these filthy monsters from this sunlit land!”
Behind him, Seleucus’ most elite Paladins and warriors—clad in shimmering silver armor—raised their weapons and roared, charging into the horde of terrifying, hideous Dragon-blooded beasts.
“Swish—”
Adrian swung his longsword. A golden blade of light shot forth, cleaving a massive Storm Lizard in half. The creature let out a thunderous, electric-charged groan before collapsing.
But around him, several Blue Dragon Descendant Ambushers closed in—roaring from all directions, aiming to tear him apart.
Adrian remained calm. With a sudden spin, his sword swept in elegant arcs around his body. The glowing blades cut through the air like storm winds, slicing the ambushers into bloody fragments that flew in every direction.
One, however, barely survived the gap between the blades. It lunged forward, closing in on Adrian’s back.
“Lord Duke, watch out!”
A single arrow—faintly glowing—sliced through the air, piercing the monster’s skull. Warm blood and brain matter sprayed from the other side.
The shooter was a middle-aged man nearby, clad in blood-stained leather armor. His face, weathered and scarred by years of hardship, bore a deep, jagged wound across it—a claw mark from a dragon’s grip.
His name was Liam Peyton, a bowman from a small city in southern Seleucus. Years ago, a young Red Dragon had destroyed his home, slaughtered his entire family. In a final act of defiance, Liam had used a spine-arrow to pierce the dragon’s heart.
Since then, he’d lived in shadows, fleeing from place to place, hunting down evil dragons and dragonborn with cold precision. He’d earned the title The Secret Dragon Hunter, and the Dragon Worship Church offered a high bounty for his capture.
Now, he stood here—ready to exact vengeance on the very dragons who treated humans as slaves, as vermin.
“Damned human,” snarled an Evil Dragon Priest from afar, hatred blazing in his eyes. He raised his scepter, and lightning erupted from its tip.
But Liam stayed calm. He leapt high into the air, evading the bolt. Mid-flight, he nocked, drew, and aimed—fluid, seamless.
“Swish—”
The arrow screamed through the air, tearing a bloody hole through the head of the human-dragon hybrid. The creature fell backward, lifeless.
Liam stared coldly as the priest tumbled into the chasm.
Then—silence.
From above, a deep, oppressive roar echoed across the sky. A monstrous shadow descended upon the bowman.
“You… you’re the one,” the voice growled. “The insolent little worm.”
Liam looked up. A Black Dragon plummeted toward him, its right eye blind, weeping pus from the wound.
“So it’s you.”
Liam locked eyes with the beast, muscles tensed, sweat gathering in his palm.
This Black Dragon had ravaged the southeast of Seleucus, delighting in devouring human children. Liam had once shot out its eye. The two were long-standing rivals.
“Then let me take your other eye too!”
Without hesitation, Liam raised his bow, drew back the string, and aimed at the beast’s remaining eye.
“Swish—”
The arrow flew—its flight accompanied by a sharp, spine-tingling crack—straight toward the Black Dragon’s lone eye.
But the dragon was ready. It roared in fury, spewing a torrent of corrosive acid from its throat. The arrow dissolved midair, vaporized.
They were now less than a hundred meters apart. Yet Liam didn’t flee. He stood still, meeting the beast’s gaze.
To the Black Dragon, this human was already broken—hopeless, cornered. A cruel smile twisted its emaciated face. The moment of revenge was near.
“Human… I’ll crush you into meat paste!”
Suddenly—boom!—a regiment of intense heat tore through the sky. The blast struck the Black Dragon square in the chest, hurling it backward with explosive force, nearly sending it tumbling into the abyss.
“Roar—”
A mighty, echoing roar split the heavens. The Black Dragon, panic-stricken, looked up.
A majestic, golden dragon emerged from the clouds, wings outstretched—wide, powerful, their membranes shimmering with metallic luster.
“Black Dragon! It’s time you joined your mother goddess in Hell!”
The Gold Dragon swooped down, wings flaring, and slammed into the Black Dragon with the force of a warhammer.
As the mightiest of the Metal Dragons, even a Gold Dragon could easily dominate a Black Dragon.
The two colossal beings clashed in midair—scales flying, blood spraying, bodies tearing. Within moments, the Black Dragon was severely wounded—its wing torn, its flank ripped open. It fled in terror, staggering and flailing.
As it fled, it turned back and spat:
“Gold Dragon… I won’t spare you. One day… I’ll have my revenge.”
“Swish—”
A sharp arrow pierced through the air, slipping through the brief gap in the Black Dragon’s open mouth. It plunged deep into its throat, emerging from the back of its neck.
Blood gushed. Its gaze dulled. In disbelief, the beast flapped its wings weakly—then fell, plummeting into the deep abyss below.
A hundred meters away, Liam stood, his right hand trembling from the strain. He stared at the falling dragon, then smirked.
“Arrogant monsters… you’ve forgotten me. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how your right eye was blinded?”
High above, the golden dragon hovered, watching the Black Dragon’s fall. Its gaze was cold.
“This is war, Five-Colored Dragon. You’ll pay for your sins.”
Then, with a powerful beat of its wings, it dove back into the fray—charging another Blue Dragon above the chasm. Lightning and fire clashed in the air, their roars echoing through the valley, lasting long into the night.
As the Dragon Worship Church secured the northern bank, the Five-Colored Dragons ceased their terror of Imperial artillery. Instead, they surged forward, attacking the Allied Forces.
Meanwhile, Gold, Silver, and Copper Dragons—flashing with metallic sheen—rose into the sky, forming an unbreakable barrier against the sinister Five-Colored Dragons.
Dragons clashed like scattered storm clouds, their battles a whirlwind of chaos. Lightning, flames, ice, acid—massive breath weapons tore through the air. Blood and scales rained down. Wails and roars filled the sky. Dragons fell, one after another, from the heavens.
For millennia, conflicts between Five-Colored and Metal Dragons had been rare—few had died. When they did, the Metal Dragons usually exiled the offenders to the Abyss or Hell, banishing them from the Material Plane forever.
But now, war had returned to the age of the Dragonfall—ten thousand years ago. Bloodshed, ambushes, betrayal—dragon deaths were no longer rare, but commonplace on the battlefield.
And on the endless front line, stretching for tens of kilometers, Allied soldiers and the Dragon Worship Church’s army slaughtered each other without mercy.
Dwarves swung war hammers, leaping to crush the knees of Evil Dragon Descendants.
Silver Moon Elves drew their bows, releasing silver arrows that fell like a meteor shower, piercing through monster scales.
And from the Kingdom of Cassander, the Titan Divine Offspring—gigantic, godlike warriors—charged with devastating power. Their footsteps shook the earth. Golden greatswords split open Storm Lizards with ease, cleaving through every evil dragonborn in their path.
In terms of individual strength, tactical skill, and military cohesion, the Allied Forces far surpassed the Dragon Worship Church’s army—though it wasn’t really an army at all. It was a mob of bloodthirsty monsters, driven only by instinct.
Yet, the Church had plundered the entire western region of Seleucus. They massacred villages, raided towns, abducted people, even stripping the very soil bare—using it as nourishment to breed dragons and sacrifice to Tiamat.
From a distance, the ranks of Evil Dragon Descendants stretched endlessly—like an ocean of death, overwhelming the Allies in sheer numbers.
But then—he appeared.
Ancient teleportation arrays flared across the battlefield. From them, countless Players poured forth—roaring, charging into the enemy lines.
“Holy crap, so many walking experience points! The last time I felt this good was back when we fought demons!”
“Kill them all!”
“I’m gonna level up—NOW!”
Players swung their weapons, pouring into battle. In this version of the game, most were mid-to-low level professionals—Level 4 or higher—capable of serving as sergeants in a regular army.
But this wasn’t just a group of soldiers. It was a force of fearless, death-defying professionals—terrifying in their ferocity.
And among them? Elite and even top-tier players—Steel Tide, Great威 Tianlong, Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang, and others.
Their class levels were over ten. They wielded Empire-issued gear, special pacts, and their strength rivalled that of dragons. Even Stuffed Bun, who called himself a professional, was more than a match for any ordinary Evil Dragon Descendant.
With their arrival, the tide of war turned—world-changing.
The Dragon Worship Cult’s army, once dominant in numbers, began a continuous retreat—then, a full rout.
On the northern bank of the Lock Great Rift, Great威 Tianlong led the monks of the Shaolin Temple Guild in brutal combat against the Evil Dragon Descendants.
These monks were extreme physical purists—pushing their flesh to the absolute limit. Among them, the “Eighteen Copper Men” claimed their skin had become harder than steel through the Diamond Body Technique.
(Though investigation revealed they’d actually purchased the Mechanical Cult’s Skin Transplant Project.)
In close combat, the Dragon Descendants’ claws couldn’t pierce the monks’ defenses. But the monks’ fists? They shattered bones, sent monsters reeling, spitting blood and stars.
Far away, a Storm Lizard roared, lowering its head. Horns blazed with intense electric light—charging a devastating attack.
“Insolent fiend! Daring to ambush us? How shameless! I am furious!”
Great威 Tianlong bellowed, leaping over ten meters, feet cracking the ground. He swung a massive fist, slamming it into the Storm Lizard’s skull.
“Boom!”
Lightning crackled around him, arcing across his body. Like an enraged wrathful deity, he smashed the creature’s horns to splinters—crushing its skull with one punch.
The Storm Lizard let out a weak whimper… then collapsed, utterly dead.
Great威 Tianlong casually shook his bloody fist, then sprinted toward his next prey.
(End of Chapter)
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