Chapter 172: Dragon Slayer
In the blink of an eye, the once towering two-headed dragon appeared on the ground before the eternal divine chosen, Marus.
That feeling was as if an ant had pulled a mountain right in front of it.
Jima was momentarily horrified; this distance was, in her mind, a safe distance, exceeding the “casting range” of the eternal divine chosen.
He hadn’t revealed his true capability, seemingly hiding it. Waiting for this little fly to approach recklessly, drawing him into his weapon range for an instant decapitation.
She didn’t expect that the eternal divine chosen, Marus, could directly pull such a massive enemy into weapon range. This was an ancient dragon, and countless wondrous magic techniques were mere tickles to him.
In this high-level showdown, she felt truly like a fly. What power did she have to achieve her dreams?
Jima couldn’t think too much.
The eternal divine chosen, Marus, had begun his attack, swinging his sword toward the two-headed dragon’s front claws, looking like a grasshopper trimming a big cat’s nails.
The two-headed dragon roared in fury, flapping its wings, retreating with its limbs to create distance while unleashing a built-up dragon breath, directly scorching towards the eternal divine chosen, Marus.
The fiery breath surged forth like a waterfall, crashing to the ground and producing a booming sound.
With keen eyes, Jima saw within the fire waterfall, the eternal divine chosen, Marus, leap out, a flash of fiery sword light, and the front claw of the two-headed dragon hit the ground.
The two-headed dragon halted its breath attack and lunged at the eternal divine chosen, Marus. Despite its massive form, its attacks were incredibly agile, with swipes of claws, bites, wing beats, and tail whips moving so fast they appeared as phantoms.
The screeching sounds tormented Jima’s eardrums.
The two-headed dragon’s attacks were extraordinarily precise, striking accurately toward the tiny figure of the eternal divine chosen.
If even a single hit landed, regardless of the four divine selections, even the four thousand divine selections, he would have to respect Newton’s laws, being flung away like a flea.
Honestly, Jima was eagerly anticipating the moment when the eternal divine chosen would be flung away.
However, the eternal divine chosen, Marus, managed to dodge the two-headed dragon’s attacks each time, resembling a seasoned player from a past life, expertly maneuvering through the game.
A claw swept toward him, and he leaped to block it with his shield, only to graze the lower edge of the shield and fly up instead. When the dragon’s wing’s sharp spikes came at him, he blocked it with the shield, pushed off with his legs, and though he was sent flying, he soared toward the two-headed dragon.
It appeared as if the two-headed dragon had foolishly invited the eternal divine chosen closer.
The eternal divine chosen spun in mid-air, flying toward the two-headed dragon.
Both dragon heads seemed poised to bite, but halfway, they simultaneously opened their mouths, spitting out golden-red lance tips, shooting toward the eternal divine chosen Marus, who was less than twenty meters away.
Even as he spun wildly, he foresaw the danger and flung his tower shield, which smashed against the dragon’s mouth before the freshly shot lance tips could get to him.
His spinning sword effortlessly severed the incoming lance tip, splitting it in two; one half struck his body, but it halted his wild spinning.
He landed squarely on one side of the two-headed dragon’s head; everything seemed perfectly timed, as if he had practiced it thousands of times before.
Jima’s heart sank as she watched the eternal divine chosen Marus, holding his sword with both hands, deliver an instant slice that pierced the dragon’s head, burying itself deep, then running while dragging the sword back, leaving a massive wound.
In comparison to the dragon’s head, his sword was merely the size of a toothpick, yet that tiny weapon could still slice away a significant portion of the dragon’s head like a scalpel.
The two-headed dragon forcefully tossed its head, finally sending the eternal divine chosen Marus crashing to the ground. However, as he flew away, he extended his sword and dragged a long wound along the base of the dragon’s wing before hitting the ground.
Along with the eternal divine chosen Marus fell a dragon horn and a large piece of skull, the inside of the skull covered in green, gooey brain tissue with worm-like tendrils.
The two-headed dragon howled in pain, now left with only half of its left head. Green blood gushed from the injured wing joint and splattered on the ground, transforming into pulsating green flesh.
This sight nearly shocked everyone. Even those who weren’t shocked, the competitors of the eternal divine chosen Marus were momentarily uncertain about what to do.
Marus had foreseen the future and had almost single-handedly succeeded in slaying the dragon amidst a chaotic brawl of strong opponents.
What was even more terrifying was that the two-headed dragon, in its retreat, forced its way back into a crowd of demon warriors, right in the middle of the formation. Even with the resolve of death, the strong on the side of order found it hard to interfere with the eternal divine chosen Marus under the protection of the demon warriors.
He only needed to launch one more attack, and the two-headed dragon would become his trophy.
What to do?
What should they do?
Retreat or sacrifice?
In a moment, the forces of order found it impossible to reach a unified understanding.
The eternal divine chosen Marus stood up amidst the respectful gazes of the demon warriors, apart from the molten iron blood dripping from his side, he had no other serious injuries.
Yet, the inherently dominating Jima noticed something was off. The “Eye of Moer,” used for foresight on his forehead, had already dimmed—it might also have accumulated dust.
Jima had a persistent feeling that the eternal divine chosen Marus was at the end of his rope. He could no longer foresee the future, could not use the space slash again, and could not simply and brutally pull enemies closer to his weapon range.
This was merely a feeling, arising from the countless trials of battle. Jima always managed to keenly sense the enemy’s weakest point, then lead mobile troops to attack with numbers.
Marus raised his sword. Before he ordered, the demon warriors had already gone mad, attacking the ancient dragon, wielding massive axes to chop at its feet and tail, jumping up to grab its wings.
Some demon warriors had gone so crazy they even bit at the hard dragon scales.
A torrent of curses surged into its wounds, filling its veins. Various spells repeatedly tormented it, though most were ineffective against its spell resistance.
The ancient dragon, like an ant trapped in an anthill, was overwhelmed by the swarm. It howled desperately, cornered like a beast, exerting terrifying strength to drag its battered body away from Marus.
“Block it! Block it quickly!”
Jima had flown above George and others, shouting, “This is our golden opportunity. Marus has already helped us fight; we just need to take the dragon’s head!”
The general of the expeditionary army behind his helmet was dripping with cold sweat.
Looking around, everywhere lay the scorched corpses of the Kisliv expedition army. Among them were piles of charred remains as tall as a person, belonging to the bear knights. Many were familiar faces, fellow soldiers who had fought by his side for years.
He blurted out, “This is another trap by Marus. If he can foresee the future, how could such fortune exist?”
His booming voice momentarily made the remaining seven or eight bear knights hesitate.
They were all quality cannon fodder.
Jima scolded, “So what? If we don’t fight for it, we’ll only lose!”
“But we could preserve our strength.”
Indeed. If they retreated now, the eternal divine chosen army, lacking momentum, wouldn’t be able to pursue. Though food was scarce, they had already lost many.
Perhaps it was time to withdraw from this hopeless battle and conserve whatever essence remained of the expeditionary army.
Jima opened her mouth to scold but found herself speechless, realizing that she had no authority; whatever she said was futile.
“Moo moo moo.”
In a burst of white light, the heavenly warhorse Old Bai emerged, imitating a cow’s call. George mounted and said, “I am willing to make the final charge; Jima, join me.”
“Good.”
George rode the heavenly warhorse, galloping across the hard stone ground littered with charred corpses.
Jima spread her membrane-like wings and flew above him, wielding her “branch axe lance,” clearing the way for him.
Before long, a red horse came racing with Beowulf on it, shouting, “You defeated ones, don’t run ahead of me! The leader should be the true brave one.”
Behind him, only Sigma the combat priest from his squad followed on horseback.
The others were either scattered or had perished. But there was no time to worry about that now. Even Jima only caught sight of Eve Frostleaf, who was running swiftly and safely.
However, Jima noticed behind them. The cowardly general of the expeditionary army was leading his few bear cavalry bodyguards over.
The flag bearer held high a partially charred flag, fluttering in the wind. Winged knights scattered across the battlefield were rushing over, nearing a hundred in total, though most were injured, many severely, and several had large burn marks on their faces.
Jima suspected that in an hour, with the battle enthusiasm waning, they would surely collapse.
Some winged knights’ horses were whinnying in pain; they had been gravely injured, their burnt skin dripping bodily fluids. Yet the injured winged knights still urged their beloved steeds onward, sharing their injuries.
Perhaps death could free them from this hell, Jima thought. Once dead, there’d be no need to consider how to escape. The burns on her body and her horse’s wounds wouldn’t be a headache either.
Guided by Jima, they rushed toward the direction the two-headed dragon had escaped, aiming to cut it off.
The two-headed dragon had struggled through the pile of soldiers, limping like a three-legged cat, crushing the black stones beneath it as it fled towards a large chasm ahead, flapping its wings with all its might, but its injured wings rendered it powerless.
It hadn’t been able to take off.
Yet Jima believed that as soon as it reached the great chasm, a leap would enable it to fly away. At that moment, both hunters could only watch as their prey soared away.
The eternal divine chosen was behind them.
This further confirmed Jima’s suspicion that the eternal divine chosen Marus could not infinitely use his ability to foresee the future.
Otherwise, it should have been the eternal divine chosen Marus running ahead.
She saw the eternal divine chosen Marus and the blood dragon knight Duncan chasing swiftly behind, their strides larger than the battle horses, each leap covering more than ten meters as they gradually closed in on the dragon.
The remaining knights of the chaotic sword rode their horses following the eternal divine chosen.
The eternal divine chosen and his companions were getting closer, brandishing his crimson long sword, a fireball launched like a cannonball, directly obliterating several winged knights into dust.
They were visibly getting nearer.
Jima was unsure again if the eternal divine chosen’s predictive ability had been exhausted. Did he foresee that even if he fell behind, it didn’t matter?
“General!” one winged knight called out hoarsely, “Let the comrades go together to delay the ones behind.”
“Okay.”
“General,” his voice was still hoarse, “Can we win?”
Two seconds later.
“Yes.”
“Turn back, turn back!”
The fewer than a hundred winged knights reversed their horses and charged toward the eternal divine chosen Marus. Their once red wings were already charred, their lances spent, but they raised their swords, like steel feathers.
“Charge~~”
Due to throat burns, their battle cry was not very intense.
The remaining twenty knights of the chaotic sword formed a line, meeting the winged knights head-on, trying to minimize the delay they could cause against the eternal divine chosen.
Finally, the last organized winged knights, burnt riders on burnt war horses, collided with the remaining chaotic sword knights.
The sounds of hoarse fighting filled the air, knights’ swords stained with blood, as horses and men fell or were torn apart, with explosions shattering limbs all around.
With the assistance of the chaotic sword, the eternal divine chosen easily tore through the last of the winged knights, but his speed inevitably slowed down.
George’s charge was now within reach of the two-headed dragon.
