Müller was stationed on top of the wall. Like Bassen, he had opened his eyes upon hearing a sound.
Crrrack!
This noise came from the walls. Cracks were forming on the stone structure.
No! Not the walls I so carefully designed!
An emotion other than fear sparked in the eyes of this cowardly yet prideful half-blood. As the countess still had her hand on his collar, however, he could only wheeze. Müller gasped as he was flung aside and fell to the ground.
A scream tore through the air. “Cale!” It had come from Violan.
“Everybody focus!” Deruth shouted.
Müller raised his head. The count, always a calm and gentle man, wore a look of utter devastation. Veins bulged on his forehead.
“Activate the catapults on the double!” The count drew his sword and approached the edge of the wall, peering down below. In a voice hoarse with anger, sorrow, and uncertainty, he cried out, “Don’t let a single one of them live!”
At the same time, Müller heard something else.
Baaang!
The first thing he saw was a silver light—but not the light of Cale’s shield. This silver light spreading out above Weston looked like the Milky Way. Yet it was still a shield all the same, one that seemingly mimicked Cale’s. Then it began to multiply. One, two, three, four, and still more layers of silver shields materialized, blanketing the sky over and over again.
Although he was a half-blood, Müller’s dwarven ancestry clued him in to the source: a dragon. Somehow, he knew deep down that only a dragon could accomplish this. He thought about the juvenile dragon that lived in this territory. That youngling must have created these shields.
Another familiar figure loomed far overhead, near the many shields: Choi Han. The swordsman was engaged in a fierce airborne duel with the helmeted knight, his black aura convulsing viciously. Though his aura retained a flicker of light within the darkness, it raged with more turbulence than ever before.
“Ha… Ha ha!”
Despite Choi Han’s efforts, the sword easily repelled his aura. The helmeted knight laughed as he used the sword-shaped Ancient Power—newly reformed after its destruction—to parry Choi Han’s attacks. He didn’t appear to be struggling even though he’d already lost his weapon once.
Baaaaang!
As their weapons clashed against one another, Choi Han stumbled a step backward. Tat. The flying skeleton brigade had returned from its retreat, helping support Choi Han in the air.
Mary had brought them back to create a path for Choi Han to tread in midair. He and the numerous skeletons were locked in combat against the wyvern-riding helmeted knight. The sheer number of flying skeletons made it difficult to see the two combatants in the center.
One person with a good view of the proceedings was Mary herself. If anything, she saw things too clearly. Dead mana enveloped her body as her hands shook.
Right then, Violan arrived to hold Cale upright; he was on the verge of collapse. “Cale!” As soon as she reached him, Cale tottered and fell into her arms.
She swallowed another scream. Trails of black blood seeped from Cale’s eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He was coughing up so much blood that it looked as if he might choke on it.
Violan could feel Cale’s body growing colder. As all the warmth drained from her son, a doctor and a priest hurried over to them.
“Just a little more, Cale. Hold on just a bit longer.” She massaged Cale’s body and arms. He was losing so much blood, she worried he wouldn’t have any left.
Then Cale said weakly, “I…I’m okay.”
What? Her vision swam as she looked at Cale. The priest and the doctor approaching him flinched.
Not one of them could hear the voice echoing in Cale’s mind right now. ‹You’re bleeding way too much, human. This is different from usual. Human! Please, human. Please stop bleeding. I’ll even let you get away with it! If you die, you’ll regret it!›
“Stay here,” Cale said, his hand rising to grasp at air.
Watching her son reach for nothing, the countess squeezed her eyes shut. Cale was probably hallucinating because of his unstable condition. Upon reopening them, she caught a glimpse of Deruth’s distraught face. She turned away from Cale for a moment and composed herself with an effort; at least one of them had to think straight.
Yet Cale’s next remark nearly destroyed her. “If you go, you’ll get hurt…”
When she heard the words he forced out, she struggled to hold back her tears. He was still saying things like that, even while coughing up blood—even though his mind had to be a mess. In that state, he was worrying about other people. The countess felt as if her heart was breaking.
Cale finally managed to speak again. “Stay by my side and—ghk!”
He coughed up another handful of blood as his body bled fresh. He couldn’t complete his intended remark: Stay by my side and beat him up.
Only one creature understood what he meant to say. There was no rain, yet clear droplets dappled the legs of Cale’s trousers from above. The entity drenching Cale’s clothes with his tears knew exactly what he’d meant to say.
‹I’ll kill him.›
Another rumble reverberated through the cloudy sky. While Raon couldn’t replicate that natural disaster of a sword, he could produce a disaster to imitate it: a tempest. It wasn’t hard for Raon to mimic such things. After all, he was a dragon.
The sky turned black as the dragon used his powers to sweep everything away. At the same time, Raon finally figured out why Cale was acting like this. The young dragon recalled something he’d heard from the Erhaven—a casual remark the venerable ancient dragon had dropped during one of his lessons.
“Have you heard of the dragon slayers, youngster? They’re sometimes called ‘dragon catchers’ too.”
Raon didn’t like that term one bit. How dare they catch the great and mighty dragons?
“Well, you’ll probably never have to deal with a dragon slayer trying to kill you. In fact, I suspect the dragon slayer would do everything in his power to keep you alive.”
Erhaven believed Cale was a descendant of the dragon slayer clan. He hadn’t said those things with a day like today in mind; he’d only shared some common knowledge with Raon.
“Dragon slayers are unique individuals who’ve overcome their human limits. They’re close to nature.”
The concept of humans close to nature had prompted Raon to reply, “Our weak human is close to nature too!”
“That’s why I’m saying your weak human punk is a dra—oh! Well, I guess I should pretend not to know, since he’s trying to hide it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Anyway, listen to me, youngster. If a dragon slayer comes after you, run.” Raon had snorted at that, but Erhaven was dead serious. “Those bastards are humans who devour dragons to get stronger.”
Dragons were said to be the entities closest to nature, and they had myriad colors and attributes. Hence, people could consume dragons to become closer to nature themselves.
“Young dragons like you have to be especially careful. Your body hasn’t grown up yet, and you can’t use Dragon’s Breath. Well, as long as you have that unlucky punk by your side, you’ll probably be fine growing up slowly.”
“There’s no way the great and mighty Raon Mir will get hurt!”
Erhaven had chuckled as he responded, “No being in this world is truly great and mighty, youngster.”
Today, Raon finally understood. I’m not great and mighty at all. He still had a long way to go.
Raon looked at the hand holding his invisible paw. Blood dripped down Cale’s fingers. Right then, Raon poured all his emotions into his magic. Beginning with one drop, then two, rain fell upon the battlefield.
The remaining wyverns rushed the silver shield, while the bears dodged catapult projectiles and arrows as they charged the cracked walls. The tigers tried to attack the bears from the rear, but there were at least ten bears to every tiger.
Rumble, rumble!
The rain took a dramatic turn. First the gentle shower whipped into a storm; then it evolved into a roaring tempest. Lightning split the sky.
Ker-crack!
Dozens—no, hundreds of lightning bolts struck the wyvern knights and the bears, targeting the enemies without the slightest margin of error. The lightning resembled the sword from earlier, trying to strike down everything in its way.
One person was able to knock the bolts aside without breaking a sweat. “This place is a hoot. Is a mage trying to copy me? Who is it?” The helmeted knight licked his lips as he carved his way through the torrent of hail and lightning, scanning his surroundings.