The Flying Dragon at the horizon drew closer and closer. Perhaps sensing that reinforcements had arrived to back it up, it spread its broad wings and lifted its head, letting out a thunderous roar toward the sky.
These are… Golden Needle Knights?
The lead knight froze in place. These hero knights were well known, yet the main battlefield of the Haligtree lay far to the north. Why would they appear deep in the Redmane Army's rear?
Filled with confusion, the knight shouted loudly,
"Sir, we are subordinates of Lord Godefroy, and steadfast allies of the Haligtree!"
Hearing this declaration, Nolan simply shook his head and replied calmly,
"I see nothing but a band of bandits pretending to be soldiers. The Haligtree has no bandit allies."
The knight's pupils shrank violently, the edge of a blade reflecting larger and larger in his eyes.
Several knights nearby stiffened in alarm. Before they could even react, their leader's upper body had already crashed to the ground.
"ROAR!!!"
With an enraged bellow, the Flying Dragon beat its massive wings and began to climb higher.
The roar sounded like a signal to attack. The remaining knights snapped back to their senses and thrust their lances forward.
A petite blue doll clung to Nolan's shoulder. He glanced aside, signaling Her Highness to hold tight, then raised the Carian Greatsword overhead and swung it down. A raging storm burst outward.
Stormcaller!
A knight sitting more than three meters above the ground was swept away, his heavily armored body flying like a cannonball and smashing into several unlucky souls who failed to dodge in time.
The Flying Dragon refused to be outdone. It folded its wings and dove sharply downward, the violent beating of its wings whipping up a fierce gale. Its body, over ten meters long, charged straight ahead as blazing dragonfire poured from its maw.
In an instant, the temperature of the entire space surged. Even the surrounding air became unbearably hot.
The pillar of flame swept back and forth with the dragon's neck, spreading across the sky like a collapsing wall of fire.
Waves of fire surged forward, and behind that blazing tide, the Flying Dragon lunged with bared fangs and claws, dragging scorching wind in its wake.
But Nolan did not retreat.
With a casual flick of his right hand, he drew a war spear from his spirit ring. His movements were smooth and seamless, and in the blink of an eye, he had assumed a throwing stance.
The moment he raised the spear, Nolan poured his magical power into it. The lance burst into a brilliant azure glow before he hurled it forward.
Scholar's Armament!
Whoosh!
A sharp, piercing shriek rang out as the wall of fire was punched open with a massive hole.
The Flying Dragon was skimming low over the ground. When it spotted the sudden spear, it twisted desperately to evade, but it was still a step too slow.
A searing, bone-deep pain tore through it as the spear scraped across its neck, ripping away a large swath of flesh and spraying dark red blood.
A weapon imbued with magical power feared no flames, easily piercing its body.
Still, for a creature as massive as a Flying Dragon, such a wound was hardly worth mentioning.
Seeing the magical sword qi streaking straight toward it, the beast chose to take to the skies once more.
"Be careful!" The Princess, watching the battle, couldn't help but shout a warning.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
As the Flying Dragon pulled back to a safer distance, several crossbow bolts followed in rapid succession.
Nolan vanished from where he stood. When he looked up again, the Limgrave cavalry had already begun their charge.
They aren't retreating. They're charging straight at me?
Nolan understood perfectly the difference between a proper army and the Cuckoo. Killing a handful of men wouldn't be enough to break their formation.
After all, the war had dragged on for so long. Anyone who survived the battles around Leyndell might not all be seasoned veterans, but every one of them had been tempered by life and death.
Clop clop clop—
Hooves hammered the ground, kicking up clouds of dust. Nolan raised the Carian Greatsword, and streams of magical crystals fired out like machine-gun rounds.
Shattering Crystals!
Dozens of cavalrymen were packed into the narrow street, no more than four or five riding abreast at a time. Row after row was pierced straight through by the crystals.
The fallen bodies quickly became the greatest obstacle, forcing the charging warhorses to skid to a halt.
From a short distance away, several knights raised their lances. Beneath their helms, furious eyes locked onto Nolan without wavering.
A fantasy world really was something else. People threw three- or four-meter-long lances around like it was nothing.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when a sharp whistle split the air. A dense "rain" of javelins fell from overhead.
Boom!!
To anyone who didn't know better, it would've sounded like boulders slamming down. The country road shattered in the blink of an eye. Dust billowed up, but there was no blood.
Up in the sky, the Flying Dragon spotted Nolan immediately, vanishing and then reappearing nearby. Scorching dragonfire poured down.
Nolan snapped his Promised Claymore through the air. Storm Blade split the column of flame in front of him, and in the same beat he caught a gray-black shadow sweeping in from the side.
It wants to fight up close!
He twisted his wrist and turned his body, bracing both greatswords in front of him.
Boom!!
Blade-like wing-claws slammed into the greatsword. His forearms drove against his chest as the impact surged down the blade and into his hands.
For a split second, his breath stopped. Nolan skidded several meters across the stone road, then rolled to shed most of the force and wrench himself to a halt.
Fortunately, neither greatsword was an ordinary weapon. Even after taking that hit, there wasn't so much as a mark on them.
Bloodhound's Step!
Nolan flickered and reappeared right in front of the Flying Dragon. He raised the glowing Carian Greatsword, and the Haima's Gavel he'd been holding back exploded outward in a roaring shockwave.
Almost at the same time, the Flying Dragon—still crouched low to the ground—turned its head as if to check the result of its strike.
The next instant, an enormous hammer of magic smashed into its skull and sent it flying.
Thud!
A dragon, so what? Like I haven't killed one before.
Nolan didn't hold back. The Flying Dragon was hurled more than ten meters, and the houses it plowed through collapsed in an instant, turning into a trail of rubble.
If the villagers wanted to ask what he'd "protected," he didn't mind showing them exactly what would've happened without him.
Nolan gripped his twin blades, their edges flaring with light. But when he swung, the targets were behind him. Two streaks of light flashed out, instantly cutting down several soldiers who had crept in close.
He cut through one after another. Only then did the Flying Dragon seem to come back to itself—its face visibly caved in, one horn snapped clean off.
Yet it didn't press the attack. It merely glanced back once, then beat its wings and pulled away.
A monster like that… whoever wants it can have it.
Nolan finished off the remaining soldiers around him and looked up. The shadow in the sky was already far off.
The Flying Dragon roared from time to time, circling as if mocking the smallness of the creatures below, before continuing toward the horizon.
At this range, ordinary sorceries were useless. Nolan drove both greatswords into the ground, and a golden greatbow coalesced in his hands.
Trying to run? Not today.
"O dragon that brings suffering, wither away!!"
Distance seemed to lose all meaning beneath that shot. Before the Flying Dragon could react, an arrow crackling with golden lightning had already appeared beneath it.
Thud—
The arrowhead tore through hide and muscle, shattered solid bone, and punched into its chest and heart.
As the Flying Dragon wailed in agony, that dazzling golden light paused for the briefest instant, then detonated from the inside out.
Lightning swallowed the beast whole, bursting into a scorching, blinding radiance.
Greatbow!