Every knight fortunate enough to be alive looked up in awe that could not be measured. Their respect and adoration for the Warlords skyrocketed, so much so that a desire to worship the god-like man burned in their chests.
Warlords like him represented Eistoriel in its fullness, and the scenery they beheld lived up to the expectations. Even the soldiers of the Union could not help but praise the man.
Lord Rishil was only a man in his mid-fifties, having climbed the ranks of power at an impressive rate. At one point in his life, he had been the fastest-growing youth in the lands, famous in and out of Eistoriel.
His hunger for power and impact had led to the position he now held. As a Warlord, his influence was greater than some kings, and for good reasons at that, but no reason was as great as the might he boasted.
Possessing an affinity for flames that could only be matched by a few within the ranks of Warlords, he not only prided himself on his abilities but had ensured to refine them as much as he could. Even now, he yearned for more power.
Hence, a mixture of disdain and fury burned in his chest at the sight of that… creature. He dared not name it a dragon, because unlike his lower-ranking subordinates, he knew exactly what it was.
"How dare you present that failed creature before me? Have your leaders grown senile enough to believe such a fake could best me?" His voice echoed the depths of his indignation, and that truth fanned his flames even hotter, lighting up the sky.
Soon, the scent of charred flesh swept the terrain, and the intense flames died down to reveal what used to be the silver dragon…
Nothing could describe how the Knights felt at the sight of the dead dragon. Lord Rishil literally became a god to them!
The creature's carcass fell to the ground with a loud thud and continued to release smoke. It was truly dead, and only one attack had done that? Even the three golden knights felt immeasurable awe for the Warlord. The gap between him and them could not appear any wider.
A laugh rang out in the sky, however, suddenly bringing their attention to a person they had not seen initially, but Lord Rishil had been aware all along. In fact, his focus had never been the fake dragon.
"Only an expert of your standing could possibly tell the difference. Your reputation precedes you, Flames of the East: Rishil!" The person exclaimed, laughing. And to the amazement of many, it was a woman.
Lord Rishil remained silent, retaining his cold glare. Instead, his mana moved to prepare for a battle he knew would be harsh. The person before him was spectacular, and he only hid his surprise behind his very genuine anger.
The creature he had just killed was only as strong as a wyvern at best, but it was not even a dragon. Silver scales were too unique and frankly impossible for dragons other than elder or adult specimens. As such, he concluded that it was some sort of experiment gone wrong. It was out of such that the fake dragon was born.
Lord Rishil could tell the difference because, not only had he studied the dragons deeply, he had been privileged enough to end the lives of two adult specimens, and both had been some of the greatest catalysts of growth in his life.
The only event above those two in impact was his experience with the king. All three had been near-death experiences.
"You refuse to respond. Tsk," she rolled her eyes, acting dramatic, "I paid a heavy price to be sent here, but the conditions have been met."
Lord Rishil did not understand her, but he didn't need to; if she attacked, it meant he could engage in battle too. Moreover, she had been the initiator.
Unfortunately, it was a blunder on his side not to ask, because her response would have made him exert needed caution. Instead:
Mana grew denser around the Warlord, as the balls of flames he had initially created grew in size and power. They had not disappeared even when the fake dragon attacked him.
The sky grew hotter, and the heat soon began to affect the armies below, but it didn't matter.
"Allow me to enlighten you," Rishil declared. "Witness what a real dragon can do," the flame expert acted at that point.
Raising his battle axes, everyone watched those balls of flames crash into those weapons, engulfing him in the process.
An immense weight crashed into Lord Rishil's shoulders. His axes were incredibly heavy now, heavier than five adult bulls each. Yet, that didn't stop him from swinging them with his full might, seemingly effortlessly… aiming at the woman who remained standing—still brimming with confidence.
His swing looked effortless.
The sky flashed.
His gesture gave birth to a single shining blue line that flew forward horizontally, shaking the sky. He did not want to kill his men, so he didn't unleash a vertical attack.
That attack felt mighty, such that every beast within that region fled, yet the woman confidently raised her right hand to meet that attack.
Unfortunately, to her shock, her world spun, and excruciating pain seeped into her mind, shattering her confidence!
She had misjudged the power in that simple offensive, and had suffered for it.
No flashy explosions happened, but the lady's figure vanished from that region, shooting entire kilometers away. Still, the attack had been too strong, such that the rest of the slash cut through the mountain peaks in the distance.
However, those cuts had been too clean for the severed portions to fall off. Instead, they exploded due to the unimaginable heat that seeped into them.
Flaming rocks descended from the sky at that point, crashing into the forest and setting it ablaze!
Lord Rishil cringed at that display.
"I overdid it," he muttered, voicing a curse as he descended in a bid to save as many Eistorians as he could.
Unfortunately, his gaze suddenly sharpened halfway down, and he had to evade the fearsome offensive coming for him, mid-flight.
The instant he left his previous position, the toothed jaw of what appeared to be a wolf appeared out of thin air to perform a shattering bite at what used to be him, before vanishing after failing.