The knights kept their eyes locked on the Flying Dragon in the sky, but in the blink of an eye, its figure vanished without a trace.
By all reason, it should have dived down, opened its bloody maw to spew raging flames, or stretched out its sharp claws and brought disaster upon the people below.
But this dragon defied every expectation. It did not look at all like a beast driven by madness and the urge to destroy.
Just as the knights were guessing what the dragon meant to do, the Flying Dragon swept out of the clouds above the hollow, sunken tree stump.
Its gray-white Scale Armor scattered the shots from powerful bows and crossbows. Its wings severed the sight of the waterfalls running down the tree wall, and wrapped in wind, rain, and snow, the Flying Dragon charged straight toward the Empyrean's residence.
Florissax, who was temporarily staying as a guest at the Haligtree, saw the Flying Dragon and immediately rushed forward, spreading her wings. The instincts of a dragon-feasting Priestess had long since been carved into her bones.
Behind her, a thick brick-and-stone wall was suddenly smashed down by a tyrannical force, collapsing with a crash along with the exquisite murals painted upon it.
And that pale, freezing Flying Dragon crashed into the residence like a falling boulder, dragging shattered stone and debris in its wake.
The candles and Glintstone lamps went out in the same instant. Cold rain poured down as if from a broken basin, washing over half the residence from above, while all the knights roared and charged.
Purple light covered the entire residence. The gray-white Flying Dragon seemed to slam into an invisible wall and was hurled backward.
Its body tumbled through the air, spinning together with the cold rain and snowflakes in a strangely eerie scene.
The Flying Dragon beat its wings and managed to land against the tree wall with difficulty. It panted, then let out a low roar.
The soundwave swept out like a mighty shockwave, tearing through the endless curtain of rain and shattering the snow and ice across the sky, sending them scattering down.
At that moment, everyone in Elphael finally saw the huge creature standing high above. The soldiers formed attack formations, and some units had already prepared their war weapons.
Some ordinary residents trembled, while even more Flying Dragons were stunned where they stood.
They looked as though they had been struck by lightning, completely dumbfounded. Only a few Flying Dragons had the courage to look toward that snow-bright giant beast.
At the highest point, a demon god-like figure stood tall. Its roar was a furious bellow that echoed through the entire Holy City.
Its golden eyes swept over all of Elphael, and with its deep, heavy voice, it issued an arrogant question.
"Worthless things, why have you not come to welcome me and pay audience? Where is Bayle? I smell its scent on you. Are you not its followers?"
The Flying Dragons immediately trembled all over in fear. One after another, they lowered their heads, not daring to look up and meet that pale figure's gaze, as if the pressure were too much to bear.
"You winged beast, you dare invade the Haligtree? You really don't take us seriously at all!" Arl did not understand the dragon tongue. He raised his throwing spear and aimed at the dragon's lofty silhouette.
He had only heard stories about that dragon and knew nothing of its true strength, but he could clearly feel the terrifying pressure it gave off.
For him and the knights to try to deal with that Flying Dragon using the throwing spears in their hands was no different from a fool's dream. They had no chance at all.
But an ordinary army without a strong warrior to lead it could never defeat such a creature. As a champion, he had to step forward.
An army could threaten champions and Demigods as well, but only if they were given the chance to act.
If two warriors of the same level were locked in fierce battle, the soldiers could pour out countless bolts and throwing spears.
But now, with no one to stop it, that dragon could act as it pleased and crush the soldiers one by one like ants.
"Borealis! It really is him. He's terrifying. And that arrogant bastard actually dares call His Majesty Bayle by name."
Terrified dragon cries came through the ice and snow, accompanied by shameful movements that made them look as if they wanted to crawl into cracks in the ground. The pride of dragons had once again been discarded like worthless trash.
These were Nolan's Flying Dragon army. Their bones had been crushed in the battle at Jagged Peak Summit, and their broken knees had never truly managed to stand again.
Those hill-sized bodies trembled with fear, making one wonder whether they were merely house dogs wearing savage Scale Armor.
Arl heard dense dragon roars rising all around him. The Flying Dragons lying on the ground sprayed scorching dragon breath from their huge nostrils, but not at their enemy.
The dragonfire that had burned countless people to ash now seemed to have become a stove for warmth in this icy world, and Arl could not help finding it a little funny.
Growing impatient with the frightened growls around him, Arl threw the spear in his hand. The knights followed him, firing heavy crossbows and cannons.
This was the worst possible timing. With Lady Malenia leading the Haligtree Army, they had been unstoppable. Even when she was not present, Finlay could shoulder the burden.
But for the battle that would decide the stations of god and Lord, Lady Malenia was sharpening herself, and Captain Finlay was her whetstone.
Wait. Who was Lady Malenia supposed to fight again?
When that thought came to him, Arl suddenly realized he seemed to have forgotten someone. Out of habit, he had excluded a certain "weak" man from his memory.
"Honestly. Fear is normal, but you can't just throw away your courage so easily." Nolan walked over to Florissax and pressed down the Ancient Dragon who was just preparing to hunt the Flying Dragon.
"But if you really can't find your courage, then be afraid. Still, the only one you should fear is me, and the only Lord you should look up to is me. Understood?"
As he spoke, the corners of his mouth lifted. He spread his hands toward the dragons and gave them his usual smile, yet in the dragons' eyes, that human face seemed more savage than any beast.
Fear? What could be more terrifying than the dragon who killed Bayle? Every Flying Dragon acknowledged in its heart that this man was a dragon.
The fear branded into them on that blood-red mountain returned in an instant. The Lord's mercy had almost made them forget that day.
The strongest Lord among Flying Dragons, the mad dragon who had torn off two of Placidusax's heads, was dead. Now was the age of the new Lord.
"Flying Dragons have become human house dogs!?" Borealis glared down in fury.
That human rose into the air out of nowhere and charged straight toward him, while those lowly, weak kin actually followed behind him.
Snowmelt from the heat ran down his Scale Armor. In an instant, one human Lord stirred the entire Flying Dragon army into motion, and the flames of their dragon breath became fireworks to clear the way.
"Did you come looking for an old acquaintance? Too bad. You won't see it," Nolan said.
"Was that little trick just now your doing?" A cold smile appeared at the corner of Borealis's mouth.
Its gaze fixed on the purple light lifting Nolan up, and the scene of itself being flung away moments ago surfaced in its mind unbidden.
It had thought that invisible wall was a safeguard left behind by the Empyrean. Now it seemed it was this man's doing.
"I don't know what you did to make these things disgrace themselves so badly, but I smell blood on you. So... die!"
A great fear pressed down on every Flying Dragon's heart, yet under that blood-scented gaze, the dragons did not retreat, because an even greater fear was right beside them.