From the barrel of the magic tank extended a thin, unimpressive staff, resembling little more than a twig. Even the Dragon Warlord seemed momentarily confused by the sight, its expression contorted with both disdain and amusement.
"Filthy, insignificant creatures! You dare disturb the sanctity of the dragon race?"
The Dragon Warlord bent its knees and launched itself into the air like a cannonball, soaring above the goblins before descending with its massive blade aimed directly at the tank.
"Seriously? Using a melee weapon against a tank? Dream on."
Orson couldn't help but laugh. The boss's enchanted strike hit for a solid 8,000 damage, but with the tank boasting 500,000 HP, it was hardly a scratch.
"Hold position!" Orson shouted, directing Nightshade to adjust the tank's angle. The target locked, and Orson's makeshift cannon began to shine with chaotic energy.
Whoosh!
