Chapter 173 Chapter 168 Seizing the Dragon (Two-in-One)
“Defeated, I’m faster!”
Beowulf transformed into a beam of light and instantly appeared on the battered thigh of the two-headed dragon, brandishing the holy sword. The dragon kicked hard with its thigh, sending Beowulf flying off. In midair, he grew wings of light and climbed back onto the dragon as if he were rock climbing.
George was different; he had used divine power to lighten his armor, yelling, “Jima! Come!”
Jima immediately dove down from the sky, embraced George from behind, and flapped her fleshy red wings with force, lifting him up.
She noticed George hadn’t used his light wings directly and asked, “Are you not in good shape?”
“I’m injured.”
Jima flew high, spreading her wings toward the back of the two-headed dragon and asked, “Is your hand okay?”
“I’m up; it’s nothing serious.”
“Is it a heavy injury?”
“No… it can’t be called severe.” George asked, “What about the Wing Knights?”
His chest armor had several deep dents and even holes.
“They’re alright; they died quickly,” Jima said. “I saw the expedition army general just turn around, saying he would fight alongside his soldiers.”
“He really is a brave man.”
Jima thought to herself: high-quality cannon fodder, performing much better than I’d expected.
Below, the dragon’s back was bumpy, and at the base of its wings, a long gash released chunks of green flesh with each flap.
“Get ready to land.” Jima followed the giant dragon, preparing to find a good spot to set down her beloved.
At that moment, the right head of the two-headed dragon turned around.
Even though she already knew that the so-called two-headed dragon was just one dragon split down the middle between its eyes, separating its head from its neck all the way to its body, seeing this grotesque creature up close was shocking.
The cross-section of the right head was layered with thick scars but could still barely show its structure: mouth cavity, nasal cavity, cranial cavity. Its dragon eyes were bloodshot, and its mouth opened wide.
Jima could see the dragon’s breath rushing through half of its esophagus towards its mouth. Logically, if you cut a pipe in half, it cannot be used to convey water. Yet the dragon’s breath flowed neatly, with no sign of leakage, pouring into its mouth, and a thin jet of dragon breath was about to spray out.
Jima suddenly dodged; the dragon’s breath missed her. But behind her, a fireball flew by and brushed against her body. Jima instinctively turned to look.
As expected, it was that detestable Marus, pointing his sword at Jima. However, his aim was off. The expedition army general, riding his bear, had just dealt a fierce blow to his arm, causing the previously certain fireball to veer off.
George shouted, “That’s enough!”
Jima let go of George in an instant, and he fell through the air, landing on the bumpy back of the dragon, nearly slipping. He managed to stabilize himself by plunging his sword into the dragon’s scales.
The right head abandoned its attempt to burn Jima and lowered its head to burn George instead. For a moment, the entire back of the dragon was covered in searing red dragon breath, and John’s figure was visible within.
Strong individuals are not easily killed, especially George.
Jima looked up, forcing herself not to glance back at George. She flew higher into the sky and looked ahead.
Although the two-headed dragon ran faster than a warhorse, it still had nearly eight thousand meters to go before reaching the crack and was estimated to take eight minutes to reach it. If there were no interference, George and Beowulf alone would be enough to bring down this battered two-headed dragon.
Right, if there was no interference.
Jima glanced back.
The Eternal Chosen was rushing over alone. He shouldn’t have fallen so far behind, but many insignificant lives sacrificed had slowed his pace.
It wasn’t entirely accurate to call him alone.
Because the expedition army general was clinging to the Eternal Chosen like a koala, having lost one shoulder.
As he ran, the Eternal Chosen squeezed the general’s waist with the hand that wasn’t holding a sword, pressing his armor inward, embedding it into his bear-like, strong body.
“Why?!”
Facing the unpredictable fate again, even the Eternal Chosen couldn’t control his emotions, nor was there any need to.
He shouted, “Why do you mortals repeatedly throw away your lives?!”
The iron grip tightened further, and the expedition army general was on the verge of being crushed.
“They forced me,” the general said, blood flowing from his mouth. “They gave me no way out.”
At that moment, a silver arrow shot from a distance, heading towards the iron helmet of the Eternal Chosen. Although a semi-transparent, invisible wall blocked the silver arrow, the explosion of the ice flowers that resulted struck the Eternal Chosen’s helmet, making it crackle.
“Weak!”
The Eternal Chosen squeezed the general until he was almost two halves, but the general’s hands gripped tightly around him. It took great effort to shove the remnants away.
The expedition army general fell to the ground, rolling a few times, facing up, with his backside also up, letting out a sound of pain.
The Eternal Chosen didn’t deliver a final blow, intending for this ungrateful worm to die slowly.
But a frozen arrow flew in, embedding itself in his eye.
From a distance, Eve Frostleaf gave him a merciful death.
Now able to run at full speed, he saw the two powerful paladins on the dragon’s back tirelessly slaying the dragon. He realized that if this continued, Order would steal the crown shards.
He instinctively turned his head to look for his companions.
Seeing the Blood Dragon Knight Duncan far behind him.
The Blood Dragon Knight Duncan had just defeated his opponent and was preparing to run when suddenly, a hammer fell from behind him.
Duncan turned back to see the one-handed, one-legged Sigma battle cleric managing to stand on one foot, taunting him:
“You will never defeat the son of Sigma.”
He ignored it.
The same tricks would not work on him again.
Now he had to hurry and join the fight.
He reached out, grabbed a piece of rubble from the ground, and while running, he turned around and hurled the stone toward the Sigma battle cleric’s bald head.
The stone shattered on the cleric’s head.
The Blood Dragon Knight Duncan unleashed a tremendous force, leaping over twenty meters.
A loud voice came from behind:
“Once again, in the face of Sigma’s divine power, you chose to run away! Hahaha.”
The Blood Dragon Knight Duncan immediately turned around.
He saw the bloodied Sigma battle cleric still standing, despite having a skull indentation and broken limbs.
The Sigma battle cleric shouted, “Coward! Scaredy-cat! The whole world knows it’s your cowardice that brought the curse!”
Indeed, after Jima uncovered this ancient secret, she told everyone, and nearly the whole expedition army was aware.
The Blood Dragon Knight Duncan was furious, opening his mouth and letting out a roar louder than a dragon’s cry: “Roar!!!”
Enraged, he charged at the Sigma battle cleric, using his claws, teeth, and raw strength instead of a sword. Ripping, tearing, and dismembering.
In the end, the cleric’s indented bald head rolled on the ground, still bearing a mocking smile.
At that moment.
Jima was in the air, occasionally extending her middle finger at the Eternal Chosen Marus, sticking out her tongue, hurling insults, and spitting.
Hoping she could attract hatred like Frostleaf and the Sigma battle cleric to buy time for slaying the dragon. Of course, she was fine with risking her life. She didn’t want to die; let others make the sacrifice.
But the Eternal Chosen Marus completely ignored her. He suddenly slowed down, and the “Eye of Mohr” on his forehead regained some luster.
Then, he bent his knees, pointing his longsword behind him. Flames gathered and compressed, causing a violent explosion behind him as he leapt up. Riding the wave of the explosion, he soared like a cannonball toward the two-headed dragon.
This guy must have foreseen the future again.
As long as he had his wits about him, he wouldn’t resort to such risky methods. The two-headed dragon wasn’t moving in a straight line.
Jima wanted to intervene but worried the Eternal Chosen Marus might use his long-range ability to pull her into the sword’s range.
Based on his trajectory, there was no way he was supposed to land on the two-headed dragon.
But the dragon suddenly veered, nearly throwing Beowulf off, as if it had been rehearsed, and caught the Eternal Chosen.
Suddenly, the dragon’s body became lively.
A three-way melee ensued.
George and Beowulf intermittently attacked the injured Eternal Chosen Marus, while also attempting to sever the dragon’s head. Furthermore, the three of them coordinated perfectly, seizing every opportunity to slash at the two-headed dragon without hesitation.
The scene became chaotic in an instant.
But the two-headed dragon suddenly lurched again, and the brave Beowulf clearly couldn’t maintain his balance, tumbling off the dragon’s back.
George quickly reacted, knowing full well he wasn’t the Eternal Chosen’s match. He let go of the dragon’s scales and transformed into a beam of light, dashing in front of the Eternal Chosen Marus, delivering a holy strike while dragging him down with the dragon.
Even if the dragon escaped, neither side would get it. It was better than letting the Eternal Chosen gather all the crown shards.
Hence, Eve Frostleaf chose not to use the music box but began singing a ballad to distract the two-headed dragon. If the distraction succeeded, it was highly probable the shards of the Demon King’s crown would fall into the hands of the Eternal Chosen.
But Jima couldn’t help but shout.
She watched as the two-headed dragon flapped its wings, taking to the sky just when there was still some distance to the crack. Despite its injuries and numerous wounds, with visible blood vessels and green blood oozing from the gashes, it flew quickly.
It had been able to fly all along; Jima had mistakenly believed it could only do so once it reached the crack.
Disregarding everything, Jima flew toward the three combatants below, shouting, “George, the dragon is flying away!”
“Be careful!”
The Eternal Chosen Marus aimed his reddened sword at Jima.
In an instant, Jima found herself in front of the Eternal Chosen, as the burning sword cleaved through the air unfettered, targeting her.
Jima was prepared; a poorly made puppet took the hit for her.
George and Beowulf seized the opportunity to attack. Beowulf’s holy sword missed, but George struck and managed to stagger the Eternal Chosen for a moment.
In a showdown between experts, a moment was enough.
“Defeated, you go after him!” The brave Beowulf exclaimed excitedly, charging at the Eternal Chosen. “I will kill him.”
George, proud by nature, wouldn’t heed his words.
Jima anticipated and preemptively stated, “The dragon is hurt; it will eventually be his.”
The Eternal Chosen was also aware of this. He charged at Jima, attempting to kill her. Beowulf swung the holy sword to block him, but under the immense force, he was pushed back a few steps.
George turned his head, unfurled his light wings, and flew up. Jima hurriedly wrapped her arms around him as they took off.
The Eternal Chosen attempted to leap up, but Beowulf blocked him.
“Where are you going?” His previously serious expression transformed into that of a clown, an uncontainable smile lighting up his face, as if the greatest glory was within reach.
“Foolish mortals always think they can defeat me.” The Eternal Chosen stared coldly at him and at Jima, who was soaring away, while unsheathing his blade. “I will kill you in one blow, then chase them down.”
“Come!”
The heavy armor from the Eternal Chosen fell off by itself, thudding onto the stone ground, revealing his bronze, muscular body. His armor had grown directly from his flesh.
Wearing just a helmet without armor, the Eternal Chosen resembled a human, radiating strength.
Beowulf swung the holy sword, “I will dispose of you in one blow! Root of all evil.”
“If only George held the holy sword,” the Eternal Chosen was as quick as a released arrow. “I wouldn’t dare to take off my armor.”
A spatial cut collided against the holy sword but couldn’t penetrate it.
“Ha! Your tricks are useless.” Beowulf was so excited that every pore on his body opened.
He knew the so-called George was too much of a hard-luck loser, and others hardly recognized him. But if he killed the Eternal Chosen, he would surely surpass George.
With that thought in mind.
Beowulf’s sword techniques became increasingly exquisite, and his condition reached its peak.
The sound of their swords colliding resounded in the sky, shaking the earth, yet failing to stir the leaden gray clouds.
At that moment, the White City of the Cathedral lay beneath the heavy lead-gray clouds.
The pedestal originally meant to hold the holy sword sat empty, and a beam of light fell from the opening in the church roof, landing on the pedestal and transforming into the holy sword.
The paladin in charge of guarding the holy sword opened his mouth slightly before hastily turning to the outsiders and announcing:
“The holy sword has returned! The hero has sacrificed himself!”
Strictly speaking.
The current hero, Beowulf, wasn’t dead yet; he was merely on the brink of death.
His body had been cleaved in half from top to bottom, an enormous hole exposing his spine, as he lay on the brink of the crack.
Were it not for his immense strength, he would now be reduced to a pile of meat.
But before he died, he muttered, “I won, I won, I really won.”
In the distance, a giant dragon spread its wings in flight against the setting sun, followed by the demoness with wings soaring alongside.
They had already flown far away.
“Do you think you’ve won?” the Eternal Chosen said. “They can’t kill the dragon in a short time; I’ll cross the crack and take back the crown shards.”
Beowulf seemed
