As a mage, particularly one of grand stature like Magus Marchis, he held his own understanding of dragons—a celestial species blessed by the gods, born to reign supreme in the food chain.
Dragons, unlike short-lived creatures, boasted lifespans of thousands of years. They didn't need to endure the rigorous training other species did for power. Dragons simply grew, and upon reaching maturity, they would possess might almost equivalent to legendary status. Coupled with their colossal size and a body seemingly designed for combat, even true legendary beings were reluctant to confront a fully grown dragon; the cost of victory was seldom worth it.
Moreover, dragons, like all mighty but sparsely populated species, deeply valued their kin. Should anyone dare slay a dragon, the dragon community would tear the slayer to shreds, ensuring most dragon slayers remained within the realm of bardic tales—unless a dragon committed acts grievous enough to provoke multiple legends into action.
However potent dragons might be, they had a fatal flaw: their low birth rate, a hurdle this species struggled to overcome. No one knew their exact numbers—maybe a few hundred to a thousand, including the old and the young. Without their prolonged lives, the species would undoubtedly face extinction.
Beyond their birth rates, most dragons were indolent, lacking any notion of self-improvement and growing strong by merely surviving. A dragon that sought its own strength through training was considered a prodigy among its kind.
If these were merely adult or ancient dragons, Marchis wouldn't have been driven to near collapse. After all, the commander of this thirty-thousand-strong army was a high-ranking legendary warrior of the Holy Empire. Even if Abiel couldn't slay a dragon, he could surely contend with one. But—
"This isn't an ordinary dragon at all; this is a primordial dragon that should have been relegated to history. Why, why are there still primordial dragons in this world? Weren't they supposed to have perished along with the Dragon God?!"
Marchis's face contorted with horror, his screeching voice not scorned, as even the other mages looked worse off. Some lower-tier mages, upon beholding the golden dragon, dropped to the ground, involuntarily releasing themselves in terror.
These mages, akin to flowers nurtured in a greenhouse, had come only to claim unearned military honors. Their composure was less than that of the foot soldiers, who, despite the pallor of fear, managed to remain standing.
Gazing upon the dragon's perfect form exceeding three hundred meters, its fierce head radiating endless terror, wings that cast the sky into darkness, the mere reflection of its flight was enough to drive one to madness and flight.
A typical adult dragon measured a mere fifty to sixty meters in length—formidable, yes, but not inducing helplessness upon sight. Ancient dragons could reach eighty to a hundred meters, but even they paled next to this behemoth.
"What... is this truly a dragon?"
A quivering voice from a lower-tier mage broke the silence.
"This is a primordial dragon, and if I am not mistaken, it has lived for over thirty thousand years..."
Marchis enunciated each word, his statement sending the younger mages into dizzying confusion. Thirty thousand years was beyond fathomable—the entirety of human civilization wasn't that long. Were they truly witnessing an ancient being that had lived for millennia?
"As I dream, the world will tremble. As I awaken, all shall become reality!"
With the draconic language and roaring proclamation, a verdant glow radiated from the terrifying dragon, blanketing the thirty-thousand-strong army and vast swaths of the forest in its light. Every creature felt as if they had been transported to another world, a land guarded by nature itself.
This was—the Emerald Dream!
Before their eyes, a lush forest rose from the plains, expanding the borders of the Forest of Nourishing Grace. Though just a fraction compared to the expansive southern land, in that instant, the dragon had conjured a fantastical forest realm.
Marchis thought he heard distant exclamations—a chorus of elves and druids hidden in the woods, awaiting the human attack to retaliate on their turf. Unlike the humans' fear, the elves' voices were jubilant. For the nature-loving elves and druids, the realm unleashed by the dragon was a divine blessing.
"Is this... the domain of a god?!"
Marchis was beyond fear; his courage shattered. Though unfamiliar with this domain, he recognized it from records as the application of divine power by a god. And if one could solidify this domain into their divine office, a new deity would be born.
"This is no ordinary primordial dragon... It's a demi-god!"
Marchis's voice trembled with a sobbing tone, regretting his presence on this battlefield. Now, even if compelled by the god of magic himself, he would not dare take another step forward.
A primordial dragon was formidable enough—a favored kin of the Dragon God, an entity even celestial armies couldn't contain. A demi-god of that primal era would likely require a deity's intervention to be subdued.
In an age when the glory of gods had faded and miracles no longer descended, this demi-god dragon was an invincible presence!
The dragon, extending over three hundred meters, opened its maw, releasing an emerald breath from the heavens.
In an instant, the jade breath engulfed the human army. Unlike the typical dragon's breath that incinerated beings, this primordial dragon's emerald breath transformed reality into illusion; those touched by it became translucent, as if alive but erased from existence, mere phantoms.
When I close my eyes, all becomes a dreamscape!
"This is... the power of a god..."
Marchis whispered dryly, comprehending the magnitude of divine force.