Chapter 841: The Battle Has Begun
An emergency alarm resounded throughout Crimsonfang Peak as word spread that the Ogre Army was marching toward the Dragon Blood Tribe.
The warriors swiftly assembled around Crimsonfang Peak to defend the borders of their tribe, and soon hundreds of Wyverns filled the skies as Dragon Riders kept a vigilant watch from above.
The Wyverns’ roars thundered across the peak, shaking the hearts of the people. At once, families rushed into their homes, bolting doors shut as the alarm’s echo warned of the looming danger.
Mothers hurried their children inside, locking doors behind them as the entire Crimsonfang Peak braced itself to be swallowed by the flames of war.
A suffocating tension weighed on the air, for battle could erupt at any moment. Ordinary folk of the Dragon Blood Tribe cowered within their homes, trembling with fear.
Since their leader’s return from the Elven Kingdom, faith in him had wavered. Many doubted whether he could truly defend them from the Ogres’ wrath.
And with Commander Zerath bedridden after his return from that same campaign, dread spread through the tribe. Many feared the Ogres now held the advantage.
Meanwhile, Kaelrath was preparing for war, surrounded by servants who carefully helped him don his armor — a legendary relic passed down through countless generations.
Forged from the scales of a dragon, the armor was known as the hardest material in existence. Even the keenest blade could not pierce it.
With this armor, Kaelrath was nearly untouchable. No arrow could break through, no spell could wound him. On the battlefield, he would stand as an indomitable wall.
Suddenly, a man entered his chamber, bowing deeply before delivering his report.
"My Lord, our Dragon Riders have sighted the Ogre army. They will reach our borders within twenty minutes."
"I see..." Kaelrath muttered, fury hardening his gaze as he lowered his helmet into place. "Are our soldiers prepared for battle?"
"They are ready, My Lord," the man replied with a firm nod. "At your command, they will strike the moment the Ogres appear."
"Very good. Tell them not to engage without my command. Order them to wait for me—I’ll be there shortly," Kaelrath instructed as he finished preparing for battle.
"Understood, My Lord." The man bowed with a firm nod and immediately left the chamber to deliver the message to the commander of the Dragon Army.
—
"Everyone, halt! We have reached our destination!"
Malgar’s thunderous voice echoed across the battlefield as he stood proudly before Crimsonfang Peak, the stronghold of the Dragon Blood Tribe. His face gleamed with arrogance.
"Bring out the Dragon Destroyer Ballista! Aim at the city above!"
The Ogres roared in unison, dragging forward the colossal ballista they had forged for this very purpose. They set it at the frontlines, loading it with massive spear-like bolts.
With a single command from Malgar, thousands of those deadly projectiles could be unleashed upon the city carved into Crimsonfang Peak, capable of devastating its defenses.
Raising his head, Malgar spotted Dragon Blood Tribe soldiers stationed along the ridges, bows drawn and arrows aimed directly at his army.
Yet he only smirked at the sight. To him, those feeble arrows were meaningless, incapable of halting his advance.
"Do they truly believe their little bows will protect them? How laughable! This is pathetic!" he sneered, his chuckle low and mocking. But then his gaze sharpened as he sensed multiple powerful auras high above.
"There they are... the pride of the Dragon Blood Tribe—the Dragon Rider troops. They must be eliminated first, or else our losses will be great," he muttered, eyes narrowing at the hundreds of Wyverns circling in the sky, their roars shaking the air.
"Soldiers! Turn the ballista toward the Wyverns! Shoot them down at once!" Malgar roared, his voice igniting the battlefield as the first command of war thundered forth.
"Understood!" the Ogre soldiers bellowed in unison, their excitement boiling over as they unleashed the colossal bolts toward the sky.
Swish! Swish!
Hundreds of massive arrows tore upward at terrifying speed, blotting out the light as the heavens darkened with steel.
"Dodge! Dodge! Everyone, dodge the arrows!" a Dragon Rider cried in panic, his eyes widening in disbelief as the deadly rain descended upon them.
The Wyverns flustered their massive wings, but it was already too late. With hundreds of arrows cutting through the air, there was no clear path to escape.
Whoosh! Swish! Thud!
Dozens of arrows struck true, piercing even the hard scales of the Wyverns. Some shafts tore straight through their bodies, emerging from the other side in showers of blood.
Almost thirty Wyverns were slain in an instant, their enormous carcasses crashing down from the sky and slamming into the ground with thunderous impact that shook Crimsonfang Peak.
Another ten were gravely wounded, their wings shredded by arrows. Unable to remain airborne, they plummeted helplessly to the earth.
The Dragon Army stood frozen in silence as the massacre unfolded before their eyes. It happened so fast that many could hardly believe it. Yet they dared not act—for their leader had not yet arrived.
Kaelrath’s orders were absolute: no one was to engage the Ogre army without his command.
"What do we do?! Our Wyvern Riders are being slaughtered!" one Dragon Warrior cried out, panic and fury burning in his eyes.
"Should we attack now? But the leader hasn’t arrived yet—and he forbade us from striking first!"
"If this keeps up, we’ll lose all aerial support! At this rate, the Wyverns will be wiped out!"
"This is madness! Such a dire situation, yet our leader remains hidden in the Dragon Temple! What is Kaelrath doing?!"
The camp seethed with furious whispers. The warriors of the Dragon Blood Tribe raged not only at the Ogres but at their own leader, Kaelrath, whose absence stung like betrayal.
If things continued this way, the Wyvern Riders would be annihilated, leaving the tribe at a crippling disadvantage. Their defenses would collapse, and no strategy could fill such a devastating gap.
Suddenly, Malgar’s booming voice thundered across Crimsonfang Peak, laced with mockery and venom as he ridiculed both Kaelrath and his tribe.
"Where is that coward Kaelrath hiding?! Is he too frightened to show his face before me?!"
At his words, the Ogres erupted into raucous laughter, their voices echoing through the battlefield, stoking the flames of anger and humiliation in the hearts of the Dragon Blood Tribe’s army.
The warriors stood stunned, shaken by the Ogre leader’s audacity. Malgar had not only mocked Kaelrath—he had branded him a coward before his very people.
Even though the members of the Dragon Blood Tribe could not deny their leader’s troubling absence, they refused to remain silent in the face of such blatant disrespect.
"You dare call me a coward... Malgar, where does your confidence come from?"
A furious voice suddenly thundered across the battlefield as Kaelrath appeared, clad head to toe in his gleaming armor, weapons in hand. His arrival shifted the very air, the atmosphere heavy with suffocating tension as the ground itself seemed to tremble at his presence.
"Is it because you managed to shoot down a few of our Wyverns?" Kaelrath continued, his voice laced with scorn. "Or is it because you foolishly believe you can defeat me? Let me assure you—it won’t be long before you’re the one fleeing with your tail between your legs." His mocking smile widened as he raised his massive sword high, radiating power for all to see.
Malgar only chuckled, unfazed, and replied coldly, "Time will reveal who runs with his tail between his legs. But I can promise you, Kaelrath—it will not be me."
"Quite confident, aren’t you?" Kaelrath laughed darkly before his expression hardened. His voice erupted like thunder as he roared, "Kill them all! These wretches are filth—scum that should no longer exist in this world!"
The moment his soldiers received the order, they loosed a storm of arrows. Thousands filled the sky at once, so dense they blotted out the sunlight itself.
"Shields up! Protect yourselves!" Malgar bellowed, raising his enormous shield in defiance.
At once, the Ogres braced together, their colossal shields rising to form a wall as the deadly rain came crashing down upon them. The air shook with the ceaseless hiss and thrum of falling arrows, each impact ringing like thunder.
Then, without warning, the impossible happened. Every arrow froze midair.
The battlefield fell silent in shock as the arrows hung suspended, locked in place by an unseen force.
Gasps erupted among the Dragon Blood Tribe as disbelief spread like wildfire. None could comprehend what they were seeing. The arrows should have fallen, yet they hovered unnaturally, unmoving—as though seized by an invisible hand.
"What in the hell is this?! Why aren’t the arrows moving forward?!" Kaelrath shouted furiously, stomping the ground in rage, his disbelief twisting into a storm of anger.
Meanwhile, high above the clouds, Yuan and his wives observed the battlefield below with confident smirks on their faces.
Yuan turned to Vrasha with a gentle smile and said, "I’ve stopped the arrows from harming your people. Now, it’s your turn to act. We’ll be watching the entire battle from here."
"Thank you, Hubby. You’ve already done so much for me," Vrasha replied warmly before pulling him into a tight embrace and sharing a passionate kiss that lingered for several seconds.
When their lips finally parted, she whispered, "Wish me luck. I’ll cut off his head with the sword you gave me."
With a fiery grin, Vrasha summoned the massive sword Yuan had entrusted to her. Without hesitation, she leapt from his flying sword, descending toward the battlefield with fierce determination.
"I’ll go with her," Mireya said with a sly smile. "I’ll make sure that bastard doesn’t try anything reckless—and I’ll deal with his soldiers along the way." Her words dripped with confidence as she began her slow descent, and with every passing moment, the smile on her face twisted into something far more dangerous.