Chapter 620: The Fallen Scion

Wyvern and celestial corpses kept falling, even crushing some unlucky soldiers. The Ember Empire’s air force and the heavenly host fought a brutal, unyielding battle for control of the skies.

Artillery still thundered, but the two sides had become so entangled that carpet bombing was impossible. The Empire could only target the rear of Collins City.

Explosions, holy light from the heavens, and the dazzling arcane glow of magic mingled together, making the battlefield more chaotic and unpredictable than ever.

In one moment, the Ember army’s steam tanks and masses of infantry would launch a surge, smashing through lines and seizing high ground.

The next, angel-blooded scions of Aether would swoop from the sky, cutting open the Empire’s steel behemoths with a sword and leading Fadlan’s extraordinary warriors to countercharge and reclaim their positions.

But if the high ground was retaken, the Ember troops would call in the rear artillery and bombing wyverns, dropping hundreds of shells to scorch the area to ash.

While coalition soldiers were dodging the bombardment, dying in droves, and the lines were left unmanned, the tanks and infantry would surge again in another brutal assault.

Across the vast Northern Aether battlefield, this cycle had played out countless times. The Ember Empire kept grinding down the coalition’s living strength.

"For the Ember Empire!"

"For Holy Fadlan!"

Such shouts filled the battlefield, both fanatical—but the Empire’s were much louder, especially with their habit of whipping out megaphones.

In this way, with the heavenly host’s support gone, the Ember and coalition armies became locked in savage struggle.

Along the long front, hundreds of thousands of soldiers fought for every strategic point, neither side willing to give way. Every patch of ground changed hands again and again.

In the process, all those positions had long since become scorched earth, littered with charred, shattered corpses. Even the hills were flattened by bombardment, barely worthy of being called "high ground."

Suddenly, a searing hot wind swept from the Ember lines, followed by a resounding shout that thundered to the heavens.

"Extinguish the enemy’s flame of hope! Enforce order with an iron fist—"

Dragon-Oath Paladins, shields and spears in hand, marched in tight ranks like moving fortresses, banners stitched with vertical pupils and flames snapping in the wind.

At the head of the Twelve Draconic Guards of the Dragon-Oath Sanctuary, the so-called "Judgment Knight" Anthony raised his red-scaled arm, aiming his spear toward distant Collins City.

"These shameless southerners dare rebel against the Ember Empire, even slandering the Dragonlord with vile words. They’ve committed heinous sins!

All Dragon-Oath Paladins, heed my command: In the name of the Dragon-Oath Sanctuary, turn every enemy before us to ash!"

Fury twisted Anthony’s dragon-like face. He brandished his spear and shouted: "Attack! The Dragonlord above all!"

"The Dragonlord above all!"

The Dragon-Oath Paladins roared, their golden slit pupils burning like flames.

With steady steps, the paladins advanced, the heat and scarlet glow rising, the temperature climbing wherever they marched.

Wild grass ignited and sparks danced in their wake. Even dwarven heavy infantry made way for them, cowed by their draconic aura.

Before even reaching them, soldiers were scorched by the fiery aura. They screamed—then were turned to pincushions by the rain of spears.

"You’ll pay a heavy price for your actions!"

Anthony roared and thrust his spear. A tidal wave of flame burst from the point, like a dragon’s breath, turning coalition troops to ash.

In mere moments, the Dragon-Oath Paladins had killed over a thousand coalition soldiers, drawing the attention of the angel-blooded scions.

With a burst of holy light, an angelic scion descended, sword in hand, wings spread wide.

He looked around at the charred corpses of coalition soldiers, then glared at the paladins and growled: "Dragon’s minions! You don’t deserve to live! The eternal sun will grant you—death!"

Wings beating, the scion raised his sword, blazing with dazzling light at the tip.

"Boom!"

With a crack, a golden-red pillar of fire crashed from the sky, like divine judgment, blasting the paladins.

Sunlight glinted in Anthony’s slit pupils. He showed no fear, only lifted his spear and calmly ordered: "Dragon’s blood connection!"

Instantly, hundreds of paladins raised their spears. Chains of flame whipped out, linking them all to Anthony, channeling their power into him.

As a marquis of the Empire, Anthony was already a top-tier Professional. With the Dragon’s blood connection, he broke the legendary limit.

The group became as one, all their strength converging in Anthony. Flaming wings unfurled from his back.

With a beat of those wings, he shot upward, raising his massive shield to block the pillar of fire that could smash a tank.

"Boom!"

The two forces clashed, detonating in a blaze of light and smoke.

When it cleared, Anthony was unharmed. He pointed his spear at the angelic scion and sneered: "We accept only the Dragonlord’s blessing. And you? Heh—calling yourself a scion of the gods, you’re nothing but a celestial bastard."

"Die!"

The angelic scion, furious, dove at him, sword blazing.

"Clang!"

The blade struck the shield wall with a ringing crash. Protected by the Dragon’s blood, the holy sword bounced off for the first time.

Anthony led the paladins to counterattack. Shield and spear as one, they stood firm against the scion’s blows, retaliating with deadly thrusts. Neither side could gain the upper hand.

Again and again the scion swooped, hacking with the explosive holy blade, but could never break the paladins’ stubborn defense.

Spears bristled, banners snapped, the paladins’ eyes shone with fanatic devotion, like zealots at a ritual.

Again they roared, voices ringing out: "Extinguish the enemy’s flame of hope! Enforce order with an iron fist—The Dragonlord above all!"

[Dragonlord’s Descent]

Fire blazed into the sky, coalescing into a red dragon’s apparition overhead—the living embodiment of the paladins’ spirit and faith.

The dragon avatar spread its wings and roared, shaking the clouds with true-dragon majesty.

The angelic scion gazed up in horror and stammered: "This... this is bad!"

A wave of dread gripped his heart. He shuddered.

The dragon avatar opened its jaws, the glow at its throat a sign of impending breath.

"Boom—"

Dragonfire gushed forth, turning the sky to flame. The scion tried to dodge but was burned, half his body blackened.

The paladins pounced, hurling barbed chains to ensnare the wounded scion.

"Damn dragon lackeys!"

The scion thrashed and beat his wings, chains clanking, struggling in the air.

But the heat conducted down the chains, turning them red-hot, scorching his pale skin. The more he struggled, the worse he was burned.

"Mortals! How dare you treat a noble scion like this!"

"Clang!"

With a mighty heave, the scion broke the thick chains. Hair wild, eyes blazing like suns, his whole body radiated searing light.

Bloody but unbowed, he glared at the paladins: "Wretches! You’ve angered me. I’ll show you—"

Before he could finish, the red dragon avatar dived and snatched him in its claws.

Anthony jeered: "You think you’re really the gods’ child? Before the Dragonlord, you’re just a noisy sparrow!"

"I’ll kill you all!"

Humiliated and enraged, the scion hacked with his sword, but couldn’t harm the elemental form holding him.

After a full blast, the summoned dragon avatar was drained, able only to restrain him.

Charred feathers drifted from the sky. In the distance, several more angelic scions—including Marquis Kalen—spotted the commotion and raced to the scene.

Losing any scion was unacceptable to them.

Just then, a massive shadow was hurled skyward, followed by the whine of a spinning engine and an ecstatic shout—

"Here I come!"

A hulking, musclebound half-dragon shot through the air, revving his chainsword, charging straight for the scion.

This was the original Vitagis Dragonscale Monk, president of the Machine God Cult—the Iron Frenzy!

The scion glared, stunned and angry, as the chainsword swung for his neck.

"Clang!"

The chainsword bounced off!

"Shit, what a hard head!" Iron Frenzy gasped—he hadn’t expected the scion’s holy shield to be so tough.

Just then, a dragon warlock appeared in midair, flames swirling around her as she touched the blade, coating it in crimson light.

"Screech—"

The spinning, enchanted teeth ripped through the scion’s shield, cutting flesh and bone, lopping his head off in a single stroke!

Headless, the scion’s body swelled, then burst into motes of light.

Solar energy exploded overhead, sending a searing wave through the sky, white feathers whirling, turning to ash.

Under the coalition soldiers’ stunned, terrified eyes, a noble, mighty angelic scion fell!

"No—"

Kalen’s anguished howl echoed. He watched his longtime comrade die and could do nothing.

Lifting his sword, eyes blazing with fury and hate, he charged.

Iron Frenzy fell, bounced a few times, and landed unhurt thanks to his iron constitution.

He wiped golden blood from his chainsword, staring at the screen full of astronomical XP and points, and burst into wild laughter: "Hahaha! I’m rich!

Turns out, killing and looting is the fastest way to get rich—stealing NPC kills is the way!"

He didn’t notice a shining figure streaking across the sky.

In the next instant, a massive head and a spray of blood arced into the air, tumbling down—Iron Frenzy’s severed head, still with an ecstatic grin.

Furious, Marquis Kalen swung his sword, executing his friend’s killer in nearly the same fashion.

But the noble didn’t realize his friend was truly gone, while Iron Frenzy would soon respawn. His revenge... meant nothing.

"Serves him right for kill-stealing!"

"Seeing Maelstrom cough up his life for all those gold and points just hurts!"

"I’m in too!"

"Boys, that birdman’s worth 100,000 contribution—I call dibs!"

Kalen looked up to see more hulking half-dragons fired skyward by the special ’meat catapults,’ cheering and yelling as they crashed into the coalition lines.

Then he spotted another familiar figure flying his way—the half-dragon whose head he’d just cut off!

The guy even yelled, "Bet you didn’t see this coming—I’m back!"

Even Kalen, seasoned as he was, wavered, doubting reality: "Are you fucking kidding me..."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

With a series of booms, Vitagis monks smashed into the coalition lines, blasting craters and killing scores of soldiers.

Through the dust, dozens of giant figures stood up, laughing, raising bomb-guns, chainswords, tossing grenades—going on a wild rampage among the coalition ranks.

Clad in scales, strong as dragons, and armed with the Empire’s deadliest gear, these monks were living weapons.

They mowed through the coalition lines, slaughtering without mercy, turning hapless soldiers into cold numbers—gold, XP, and contribution points.