Any person entering this sea of flowers would find it difficult to move even an inch, let alone a young girl. But these flowers did not hinder her; wherever she passed, they parted ways, as if welcoming a queen.
Could it be that the Third Generation has already awakened, taking the form of a young Koikoi girl, hiding among the tribe? Bob was terrified; standing before him might be a noble-blooded Dragon of the Third Generation!
But the next moment, he overturned his own thoughts, though the fear on his face remained, because the ground beneath him was trembling!
With his struggles and the girl's cries, the ground cracked and roiled, a bronze coffin rising from the earth.
At this moment, thunder rumbled in the sky, rain poured down heavily, and the sea of flowers, like a chaotic maiden of troubled times, danced and swayed, as if performing a grand ode for the arrival of their king!
In just a moment, the sky was filled with thunderclouds, and the rain poured down like a torrent. The sea of flowers, nourished by the rain, grew wild, and even the severed flower branches began to regenerate, swaying towards the sky, as if rejoicing for the imminent return of the occupant of the bronze coffin.
And before Bob could be lifted into the air by the branches, he instinctively held onto the young girl. If the occupant of the bronze coffin was the Third Generation, then what was this girl?
He had learned in the academy that certain noble-blooded Dragon clans required sacrifices before their awakening – special sacrifices, their own bloodlines that had been prepared for centuries in hidden tribes. These bloodlines were often revered by the tribe, revered as wizards, or priestesses!
Wizards or priestesses, during the long years before the awakening of the dragon, would organize ceremonies, praying for the gods to bring them favorable winds and rain, accepting the respect and cheers of the people. During this time, they would forget their original mission... until the noble being awoke.
They would become the most devout followers of the gods, conducting grand ceremonies, and they themselves were the sacrifices.
Bob understood why this young girl was not hindered by the sea of flowers. She was running towards her deity, believing that the flowers were clearing a path for her as a princess. Little did she know, she was being led to the arms of death.
She thought the flowers were bowing to her as a princess, little did she know they were escorting the sacrifice to the altar, and the swaying branches were indeed rejoicing, but not for her – they were celebrating the arrival of the sacrifice, paying tribute to their soon-to-be-revived king!
"We were wrong, terribly wrong," Bob muttered under his breath, unsure whether he was speaking to his comrades in the public channel or to himself.
In recent years, the secret party had subdued several Third Generations, and he was fortunate enough to have witnessed one from a distance, believing that the mixed-bloods, with the power of technology, had become powerful. But he forgot; the one he saw subdued had been sealed for a thousand years, and their power was not even one-tenth of its peak when awakened.
And now, they were about to subdue a Third Generation that had been in a normal cocoon for thousands, even thousands of years, and its power might have already returned to its peak!
Now, that noble being only needed a grand ceremony to announce their return to the world.
And the songs of that ceremony would be played with the wailing of life, and the fireworks of tribute would be the blood mist drifting under the moon.
As the bronze coffin slowly opened, Bob stared with wide eyes, unable to shift his gaze even a fraction. He might die today, but he wanted to see clearly what he was dying at the hands of!
As the coffin lid was lifted, he finally heard the song mentioned by the young girl. It was like a song from ancient times, melodious and beautiful, yet permeated with endless loneliness.
The occupant of the bronze coffin sat up, thunder rolled in the sky, rain poured down, and the sea of flowers, like a chaotic maiden of troubled times, danced and swayed, welcoming their king's arrival.
Commander Putir's face darkened as he opened communications with the Executive Department headquarters on the other side of the ocean: "This Third Generation is stronger than we imagined. Activate the contingency plan just in case."
The Executive Department never fought unprepared battles, even if they were just a survey team, they had emergency plans for unexpected situations!
The nearest US military base had two F-35 stealth fighter jets loaded with alchemical missiles ready to take off.
At the same time, he repeatedly urged to inquire about their S-class ace specialist's whereabouts.
If the S-class couldn't handle this, then the secret party would let the Dragon clan see the might of technology! This is the South African desert; there are no civilians in the target area, so they can act without restraint!
Meanwhile, on Bob's side, holding a "civilian" girl in his arms, a series of sudden changes made him forget to report upward. But that didn't matter now; he would soon die with the young girl at the hands of the Third Generation.
Inside the bronze coffin, three thousand green strands scattered, falling onto a blue silk made of an unknown material, which, even after thousands of years, had not faded. They outlined the enchanting figure of a woman like a flower branch.
The woman's face bore no traces of the passage of a thousand years, her flawless skin illuminated by the glow of the flowers, resembling the finest jade. Her nearly perfect features made people marvel at the favoritism of the gods – no, she was one of the gods themselves!
Bob saw eyes of unprecedented gold, eyes so bright they seemed to be the only ones in the world, as the fierce wind howled, and the sea of flowers boiled. If this was a hymn, then the prelude to the climax had come to an end.
The woman's vermilion lips parted, and the melodious ancient song flowed from her mouth. Her gaze turned towards Bob and the girl suspended in the air by the branches. For a moment, Bob felt an overwhelming majesty, like Mount Tai or a tidal wave!
He couldn't even meet the gaze of this noble being; she wasn't even looking at him but at the girl in his arms.
Finally sensing something, Sara's bloodline was pulling her, but her heart was in panic. She looked at the beautiful woman in front of her and wanted to kneel down, to bow, but the intense emotions overwhelmed this feeling – it was fear.
"Wow—"
Finally, Sara couldn't help but cry. At this moment, she didn't want to see the God of Nature; she didn't want to be a wizard anymore.
Bob could only smile bitterly, thinking, "You cry now, what's the use?"
Fortunately, he saw hope; the specialists had arrived. The cold gleam of their weapons cut through the sea of flowers, and pairs of golden eyes were ignited, looking towards the noble woman.
For a moment, everyone felt their blood being suppressed, and if they weren't all A-class elites, they might have already lost their grip on their weapons!
The woman lowered her head slightly, surveying these mixed-bloods. Her brow furrowed; she was so noble, yet there were peasants raising weapons against her!
These despicable fire thieves should be kneeling before her!
With her vermilion lips lightly parted, an invisible domain spread out.
The specialists had not yet launched their spoken spells to begin their attack when they stiffened in place. Those with poorer physical abilities began to bend their knees, unable to withstand the strengthening of the domain, and finally, someone couldn't bear it and fell to the ground.
Spoken spell. Royal authority!