I didn't expect Geralt to reject her so decisively, especially when she thought hope was within reach.
She suddenly let go of Geralt's arm, her eyes full of disappointment and anger, and looked away, refusing to look at him.
At that moment, the golden dragon on the platform seemed to have tired of the noise of the people below.
It flapped its huge golden wings several times, the wind instantly scattering sand and stones, causing many people to stagger.
It opened its mouth, full of dagger-like fangs, aiming at the row of dwarven crossbows; its throat glowed with a dazzling pale orange light.
RROOOAR! A hot, liquid, flame-like dragon breath erupted and raced towards the massive war machines.
The golden dragon displayed agility not befitting its large body, deftly diving and dodging in a few swoops, easily evading the few giant crossbow bolts the dwarves had hastily fired with their predictable trajectories.
BOOM! BOOM!! Deafening explosions and the sound of splintering wood rang out one after another.
The flames engulfed the sturdy wooden frames of the crossbows and their metal parts, melting and twisting like wax under the high temperatures of the dragon's breath, eventually turning into piles of smoky coke and debris.
The dwarves had worked hard and spent a lot of money to build and transport several dragon crossbows here, only to have them destroyed in just ten seconds.
The crowd was in chaos, fleeing and dodging in terror, fearing being caught by the dragon's breath.
After completely destroying the most dangerous long-range weapons, the golden dragon flapped its wings again and hovered in the air in front of the cave.
Its cold vertical pupils looked down at the chaotic crowd, and a low, hoarse, but unusually clear voice echoed through the valley like thunder: "Greedy... cruel humans! Get out of here!"
As the words fell, it took another deep breath and exhaled its dragon breath. This time, the flames were not aimed at anyone or anything.
Instead, from left to right at the valley entrance, it drew a burning wall of fire several meters high, completely blocking the path to the cave.
The scorching heat wave instantly hit their faces, making the people at the front retreat again and again.
"This is... a final warning!" The golden dragon's voice was undeniable and an ultimatum.
Within the dragon hunting team, a serious argument broke out over the golden dragon's power and this ultimatum, and it was almost disbanded.
Some were shaken by the golden dragon's words and the terrifying power it displayed; their faces turned pale, and they intended to retreat.
They whispered: "It... it can talk! It's far wiser than a green dragon! We can't defeat it! Let's go!"
But there were also those driven by greed and chance, shouting excitedly: "So what if it's a golden dragon? No matter how powerful it is, it's alone!"
"Its scales! Its blood! Its eyes! Each one is priceless! It's worth the effort!"
Amidst this chaos and argument, a figure suddenly appeared—the knight from Denesle, Eyck.
Dressed in gleaming plate armor, he ignored the burning wall of fire before him and charged towards it.
His bravery, or rather his recklessness, seemed to infect some of the dwarves, who also shouted and followed him through the wall of fire.
Eyck reined in his horse in front of the golden dragon and nimbly dismounted.
With a clang, he drew his steel sword from his belt and pointed it directly at the golden dragon, which had landed on the ground and was watching him with interest.
Mustering all his strength, he shouted: "Evil dragon! I am Eyck of Denesle!"
"With the honor of a knight, I challenge you to a sacred personal duel!"
He turned and roared at the dwarves who were following him: "The honor of a knight cannot be tarnished! Dwarves, you must not interfere, stand back!"
His voice fell, and he didn't even wait for the golden dragon to agree to this one-sided "duel."
He took the initiative, raised his steel sword high, and launched what seemed to him a heroic attack.
Seeing this, the massive dragon head tilted slightly, and a hint of human-like appreciation flickered in its molten gold vertical pupils.
Its deep voice sounded again: "Human, your courage... is appreciated!"
However, appreciation was appreciation; its movements were not merciful.
Just as Eyck was halfway through his attack, the golden dragon's thick, golden-scaled tail swung violently.
CRACK! BANG! The golden tail accurately struck Eyck's chest plate armor, like swatting a fly.
POOF! Eyck let out a short, painful cry, a stream of blood spurting from his mouth, the steel sword in his hand instantly flying from his grasp to somewhere unknown.
His entire figure was thrown like a trebuchet projectile, tracing a parabola through the air and hurtling backward.
Then, impartially, it crashed back into the group of dwarves who had advanced.
"Ow! Stupid human!"
"My bones!"
The crowd of dwarves fell over, and those hit by the "human projectile" collapsed to the ground in pain.
Eyck himself, on the other hand, lay limp and paralyzed among the pile of dwarves, his breastplate visibly dented in a large area. He made no sound, and it was unknown if he was alive or dead.
Almost simultaneously with Eyck being thrown back, someone in the crowd hoarsely shouted: "Shoot!"
Whoosh! Whiz! The archers and crossbowmen, who were already nervously preparing to draw their bows, instinctively released their bowstrings and triggers.
In an instant, like a plague of locusts crossing the border, dense crossbow bolts and arrows, with the sound of tearing air, rained down on the golden dragon's scales, wings, and head.
However, the expected scene of shattered scales and spraying blood did not appear.
The arrows hit the golden scales, also producing a series of tiny, fleeting sparks.
They couldn't even leave a trace of a white mark, weakly breaking, bouncing off, and scattering on the ground.
Along with a few fireballs, several lightning bolts, and other spells, they hit the dragon's scales and exploded like fireworks.
Besides making the display a bit brighter, they had no effect.
The golden dragon didn't even bother to dodge; it just slightly shook its head and let out a low, hoarse, mocking laugh.
The voice seemed to say: "Just this little ability? It's not even worth a tickle!"
In an instant, the still noisy and shouting valley entrance fell into dead silence.
Only the crackling of the flames and the heavy, trembling breathing that some couldn't suppress from fear remained.
The dwarves and mercenaries were so shocked by this disparity in power that they were left speechless.
Karl watched the scene before him, which would drive ordinary people to despair—the collapsed team, the burning debris,
and at the other end, the golden dragon, looking like it was made of pure gold with an invincible appearance, a look of impatience on its face.