Chapter 119: Calamity (Part 2)
Robert felt a deep sense of powerlessness, followed by an uncontrollable rage.
How dare this red dragon look down on him with such contempt!
He released the crossbow's trigger, and the multi-meter-long bow arm fired the bolt with tremendous force.
"Whoosh—"
A piercing whistling sound tore through the air.
Robert watched the bolt fly straight toward the sky, holding his breath, praying to his god for a direct hit.
Just as the massive bolt was about to strike its chest and pierce the blazing, beating heart of the dragon, Cassius's enormous dragon form transformed into a blazing inferno, merging into the twisting fire tornado.
[Into the Flames]
At that moment, the red dragon truly became the incarnation of fire!
The Dragon-Slayer Bolt, which had once killed the "Glacier Wing," passed through the flames without resistance, finally embedding itself powerlessly in the ground.
"Impossible, this is impossible!"
Robert collapsed to the ground again, shaking his head in a frenzy, mumbling incoherently.
Gazing up at the empty sky filled only with endless flames, he felt utter despair as his eyes reflected the dazzling firelight above.
"No…"
With the approaching fire tornado, raging flames surged forth.
The terrifying inferno spun and condensed at incredible speed, taking shape until it manifested into the massive body of Cassius.
"Who gave you the courage—"
"To challenge me with these pathetic toys!"
Cassius crushed the few remaining crossbows with his claws, and the flames surrounding him completely consumed Robert, who had collapsed to the ground.
The youngest earl of the Lackman Duchy, the commander of thirty thousand allied troops, was reduced to ash in the roaring flames without even a last word.
"The final judgment is near!"
"You pathetic mortals are about to make your exit!"
With thick smoke and raging flames, Cassius rampaged into the massive army of thousands.
The red dragon's menacing form appeared and vanished in the flames, trampling soldiers in flight and using its claws and teeth, as sharp as the world's most lethal weapons, to destroy everything before it.
Anyone attempting to resist found that their feeble arrows couldn't pierce his hardened, golden-red scales, only drawing down searing white flames in retaliation.
"Help!"
"Stay away from me!"
Faced with this disaster-like monster, the allied soldiers lost all will to resist.
Yet, the soldiers destroyed personally by Cassius were actually the lucky ones; at least they had died in the honor of fighting the evil dragon.
For the rest, it was purely a massacre.
The hundred-meter-high fire tornado followed closely behind the red dragon, sweeping up the nearest soldiers, carrying them high into the air, and igniting them in the heat, turning them into burning fireballs.
Some soldiers on the perimeter ran to higher ground, only to be showered by a rain of fireballs.
Most soldiers had no time to escape, engulfed by flames falling from the sky. Some desperately tried to dig into the ground but burned alive in agony. Others, wearing thick iron armor, melted into charred remnants fused with molten metal.
Fire illuminated the sky, and smoke blanketed the land.
Soldiers scrambled like headless flies amidst the smoke and flames, some lost, some fleeing in desperation, some hanging on to life, others charred to ashes.
The soldiers furthest away, lucky enough to avoid the flames, tried to climb over the stone wall, but they were enveloped by thick smoke, suffocating to death.
Amidst the smoke, the gray-robed mage used his spells to flee to a corner of the battlefield, raising his staff with trembling hands.
"I have to get out of here."
"Forgive me, my lord."
[Lesser Teleportation]
A ripple of space opened before him, and Shroud's figure began to fade.
Cassius sensed the magic's fluctuation and turned his head, but seeing it was only the "Gray Hawk" mage escaping, he allowed him to flee.
Hovering in the sky, the red dragon slowly flapped his wings, surveying the burning, hell-like landscape below.
The place that had once housed tens of thousands of troops now contained scarcely any life.
All he could see was fire and scorched earth.
Countless embers danced on the wind.
This place had become a realm of flames, a forbidden zone for the living.
Cassius completed his pre-battle vow with meticulous precision, descending onto the ground with a thunderous landing, sending ash everywhere as he raised his head and let out a resounding roar.
"Roar—"
Viscount Luton, standing on the mountain, shivered as he watched the apocalyptic scene. In his mind, he recalled countless works by court poets, full of grand and elaborate words, but none could capture even a fraction of what he was witnessing.
His lips trembled slightly before he finally uttered a few words: "Hellish calamity…"
Luton remembered a line from religious scripture: "Sinners are cast into the inferno, and flames shall consume them."
"Fire… the incarnation of fire, he is the embodiment of fire!"
"By the gods…"
The captured nobles stared blankly as the thirty thousand elite troops turned to ash, trembling all over; some even collapsed in fear, losing control on the spot.
Meanwhile, Embers Nest's kin, whether hobgoblins, ogres, or wyverns, all fixed their eyes on the massive dragon in the sea of fire, surrounded by embers.
Awe, terror, and admiration showed on their savage faces: "This is the power of our master, the wrath of the great red dragon."
"This is the purest embodiment of strength."
"He will either conquer or destroy the world."
Langpu observed the hellish scene, muttering to himself.
The red dragon flapped its massive wings, lifting off from the sea of fire and landing at Embers Nest's camp on the mountainside.
As he approached, Embers Nest's kin and the captured nobles alike couldn't help but tremble, bowing their heads under the dragon's immense presence.
"Quite a spectacle, wasn't it?"
"Wouldn't you agree?"
Cassius looked down at them, his golden pupils still seeming to burn with the fire from moments ago.
...…
"The allied forces never truly had a chance at victory; it was all as if it were a grand play scripted by him for himself."
"On that day, flames engulfed the sky and the earth, and Trier Valley was filled with ash. He wielded disaster-like power, proclaiming his presence in the Anzeta Wasteland in the most forceful way—a massacre, or more accurately, the slaughter of thirty thousand allied troops. This event is usually referred to as the Terrell Massacre."
"Since then, the seemingly unbreakable Northern United Kingdom has teetered on the brink, signaling the dawn of the era of dragon rule."
—"The Chronicles of Anzeta: The Terrell Massacre" by Duke Luton