The Dragon Slayer sword struck down toward Azog, its dazzling blade aura slicing through the air.
Caught completely off guard, Azog's eyes widened in shock. In a panic, he hastily raised his left arm, embedded with iron blades, to block the incoming sword light.
But could Azog's hastily positioned steel arm guard withstand Rynar's sword, imbued with battle energy?
Of course not! The battle energy coalesced on the blade easily shredded Rynar's sword light.
After all, a sixth-tier Dominator's total battle energy and level utterly crushed that of a third-tier knight.
Yet the sharp blade of the Dragon Slayer sword was not something Azog's steel arm could block.
The epic weapon, with an unstoppable momentum, effortlessly severed Azog's arm blade…
The broken blade, shining coldly in the snow, spun away, and for a moment, the battlefield fell silent.
Everyone stared at that solitary figure charging toward Azog! This one strike would change the course of Middle-earth's future…
"No!" Bolg looked at Azog's flying severed blade, his eyes filled with rage as he roared at the top of his lungs.
"Roar! Get away, trash!" Azog, enduring the searing pain in his flesh, swung his war hammer, deflecting the Dragon Slayer sword. Rynar's assault was abruptly interrupted.
"Boom!" Rynar leapt aside on his horse, narrowly avoiding the hammer that swung toward his horse's legs.
"Tsk! What a damned good life!" Rynar spat in disgust, thoroughly appalled.
Just moments earlier, in a critical moment, Azog had leaned back, blocking the Dragon Slayer sword with his arm blade, which allowed it only to graze the armor and cut into his flesh by an inch.
This minor flesh wound hardly affected Azog's strength, but a trickle of black blood oozed from the damaged seams of his armor, making him appear even more ferocious.
"Alas! Missed a golden opportunity!" Mage Radir's magical eye had been fixed on the battlefield where Rynar and the others fought.
Unknown to anyone, while he was clearing out the orc foot soldiers, he had clenched a single earth-type defensive spell—Earth's Blessing—in his left hand hidden in his robe, specially prepared for Rynar.
"Is the gap really too great?" Reynard mused, driving away the approaching orc guards with his lance while glancing at the battlefield.
"Roar!" A clear dragon's roar echoed as Caslow, who had been hiding in the clouds, finally emerged. His target was crystal clear: the fatigued Azog.
Kaldor folded his wings, curled up his limbs, and straightened his tail. The dragon power surged through his neck, and a visible green whirlwind swirled around them.
Caslow, lying on the dragon saddle, extended his ten-meter-long golden dragon spear along the dragon's back, igniting a green battle energy flame.
The dragon power and battle energy quickly blended, creating an indescribable sensation that filled Caslow and Kaldor.
"Is this one of the secret arts of the Dragon Knight profession—the union of man and dragon?"
Caslow marveled at this state he had entered for the first time.
The overwhelming power intoxicated him.
(Secret arts are not the same as skills but far exceed them; they usually provide a brief boost to the user's power, the extent of which is determined by the user's level.)
With the same thought, man and dragon could not help but spin in the air, as the wind elements soared toward them like moths to a flame.
They dove down at high speed, creating a deafening sonic boom.
"Gale Impact!" Caslow growled, the menacing elemental flow crashing down from above! Caslow met Azog head-on with a force that rivaled forbidden spells.
"Dominator's Heavy Armor! Dominator's Soul! Dominator's Blessing! Wild Fury! Heaven-Splitting!"
Reacting quickly, Azog activated various Dominator skills, stacking them before unleashing the most powerful attack—Heaven-Splitting—to face Caslow head-on.
"Ripping~" The surging gale produced a sound like lightning tearing through the air.
"Buzz~" The moment the spear and hammer collided, a blinding torrent of elemental energy erupted, sending everything around them flying, including Rynar, who had just retreated not far away and was knocked back, spitting blood.
"Freaks!" Rynar didn't need to look to know he had sustained internal injuries. The residual shockwaves from these two monsters nearly obliterated him, leaving him drenched in cold sweat.
"What's the outcome?" As they gazed at the smoke-filled, chaotic battlefield center, everyone harbored this thought.
"Cough cough cough!" Caslow's cough broke the silence first.
"Roar!" The weak voice of the four-legged dragon, Kaldor, echoed across the battlefield.
As the dust and smoke slowly cleared, everyone saw the victor of this head-on confrontation—Caslow!
Azog lay on his back on the ground, looking utterly miserable. His once-majestic armor had been shredded into fragments, clinging to him like tattered rags, with countless wounds gushing black blood like a faucet.
Trembling, Azog reached out his right hand, trying to grasp the war hammer that lay not far from him… but alas, all that remained was the handle; the hammerhead had shattered against the dragon spear.
"You've lost! Invader!" Caslow leaned on his twisted and deformed golden dragon spear with his unharmed left arm. His right arm was contorted into an S-shape, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
Behind Azog's pitiful figure, Caslow had also paid a heavy price; even the resilient dragon could only lie on the ground, wailing.
The difference in rank was immense, and Caslow's challenge came at the cost of Kaldor's severe injuries. In that last collision, the dragon had borne 80% of the damage for Caslow, which was why Caslow could still stand before Azog.
The battlefield fell silent for a moment...
"Kill!"
The Aranthor and its cavalry burst out from Loshanier City.
This army of fewer than five hundred soldiers seemed so small yet overwhelmingly large on the battlefield. The last straw that broke the orc's back had been placed by King Aquavia himself.
"Kill! Slaughter the orc trash!" The addition of fresh troops instantly ignited the remaining courage of the coalition.
The exhausted elven archers drew their bows once more… The orcs were in a chaotic retreat, the phrase.
"Defeated like a landslide" perfectly encapsulated their plight. Countless orcs fled in all directions. Azog's defeat had extinguished the last hope of the orcs. The orcs of Morgoth… were finished!
"Father! Kill!" Bolg's eyes turned red; he saw his injured father and roared, desperate to break through the swift infantry in front of him to rescue his father.
However, the tenacious swift infantry not only thwarted his advance but pushed his army back by a hundred meters.
"Roar!" A weary dragon's roar rang out as the Starlight Dragon appeared on the battlefield. Elandorh, pale-faced but resolute, rode the dragon toward the still organized Bolg.
Although his forbidden spell had drained his battle energy, riding the dragon, he still had the strength for one last fight.
"Ah!" The sorrowful Bolg was forcibly carried away from the battlefield by his guards.
The entire Gombada orc army, sensing the danger, instinctively turned to flee, for they could no longer withstand the slaughter of the Starlight Dragon… and Bolg could only watch as a young knight approached his injured father…
---
"Ha! A pale orc? Is this all you've got?" Rynar mocked, looking at the bloodied Azog on the ground.
"You'll come down to join me! My son will tear you apart one by one…" Azog managed a chilling smile, defiantly provoking Rynar.
"Slash!" The sword light flashed, and Azog's head flew into the air, an expression of shock etched on his face, black blood spraying up several meters high.
The pale orc, King of the Morgoth orcs—Azog! Has fallen!
"This time, you couldn't block it, could you? Oh! By the way, your son Bolg will soon be joining you, so rest easy!" Rynar said coldly.
Even facing death, Azog dared to be arrogant; did he really think the Dragon Slayer sword was a mere watermelon knife?
"Ding-dong! Congratulations to the host for personally killing Azog. Reward: 100 Battanian Archers!"
"Ding-dong! Hidden mission: Killing Azog is complete! Reward: 100 Zaltarion Heavy Cavalry."
"Ding-dong! Congratulations to the host for completing the kill reward: Eliminating over 25% of the orc army! Reward: Steel Longsword!"
"Ding-dong! Congratulations to the host for completing the kill reward: Eliminating over 50% of the orc army! Reward: The Holy Shield of Humanity—Elial (artifact)!"
"I'm rich!" Rynar could only think of these two words now.
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