Chapter 73: Second Hunt Finale [2]

Ser Hughway and Ser Damian stepped across the misty threshold together, making the initial advance into the ominous depths of the central area.

Ever since Ser Damian had been appointed as the personal blade of the Lord Viscount and honored with the glorious title of First Dragonknight, Ser Hughway no longer viewed the young warrior as a mere mercenary or a lower-ranked subordinate.

Regardless of the gap in their classes—Master versus Runner—Damian had earned his standing.

No one in the Myrain Viscounty underestimated him for he was the Head of the Crimson Dragon Order and the Lord Viscount’s blade.

Hughway treated him as a true comrade-in-arms, bound by shared duty and absolute loyalty to the same master.

Behind them, General Gunther, Ser Hetos, and Ser Merlyn immediately mobilized the rest of the vanguard into position.

Their objective was clear: encircle the central zone completely and lock down every potential avenue of retreat, patiently awaiting the signal to strike.

"Hetos, take the western flank! Merlyn, sweep right and hold the eastern perimeter!" General Gunther barked, his voice sharp and full of tactical authority.

"Do not let a single beast slip past your lines!"

Ser Hetos nodded grimly, signaling his division of knights to fan out toward the left, their boots churning up the damp earth.

Simultaneously, Ser Merlyn led his contingent along the right flank, disappearing into the shadows of the outer treeline to form a massive, inescapable ring around the central sector.

With the perimeter secured, Ser Damian and Ser Hughway surged deep into the fog-draped thickets.

Moving at superhuman speeds, their legs blurred as they crossed hundreds of meters in a matter of minutes.

The heavy, dark pitch-black mist clung to their armor, but their spirits remained razor-sharp, their ears strainingly alert for the slightest rustle within the dense ironwood grove.

High above the canopy, soaring in silent majesty through the cold clouds, Craig von Darkstar looked down upon the battlefield.

Through his activated Dragon’s Heart, his vision pierced the mist, tracking the exact movements of his ground forces.

He saw Ser Hetos sealing the left, Ser Merlyn closing the right, and Hughway advancing down the center with Damian at his side.

The locations of all his troops had been confirmed.

The trap was set.

It was time to make his move.

At first he sized up the central area once again.

Craig leaned forward, gently tapping the obsidian scales on Dark Sister’s back with his gauntleted hand.

His dark golden eyes blazed with draconic majesty as he opened his mouth, pouring his bloodline power into a single, roaring command in High Darkstarian:

"Drakarion!"

(Dragonfire!)

The air across the sky instantly trembled and fractured under a sudden surge of ancient pressure.

Dark Sister opened her colossal jaws, exposing rows of dagger-like teeth as a blinding crimson sphere of superheated energy condensed deep within her throat.

Spreading her wings wide to stabilize her hover, she unleashed a catastrophic, raging tempest of draconic fire downward upon the central area!

BOOM! ROAR!

It was not mere fire; it was a calamity incarnate.

Dragons were the primordial children of the Abyss, and depending on their tiers, their breath carried catastrophic spatial weight.

Etched with an overwhelming concentration of dark Abyssal mana radiation, Dark Sister’s 4th-Tier dragonfire burned with an unnatural, violent violet-crimson hue.

It was a flame so pure and terrifying that no physical substance, no human shield, and no mutated abomination could withstand its touch.

The moment the column of fire struck the central region, centuries-old ironwood trees were reduced to ash in a fraction of a second.

The damp forest soil turned to molten glass, and the suffocating pitch-black mist was instantly vaporized by the sheer, unholy heat.

SHRIEEK! SCREECH!

Horrific screams and agony-filled shrieks tore through the forest! Dozens of 1st-Tier abominations—Red-Scaled Deers, forest stalkers, and hidden night-crawlers that called the central grove their sanctuary—were instantly engulfed in the inferno.

Those that survived the initial impact scattered in absolute, frantic panic, their scales charred and flesh melting as they ran blindly in every direction to escape the hellscape.

On the ground, several hundred meters away, Ser Damian and Ser Hughway felt the blast wave before they even saw it.

A wall of intense, suffocating heat swept through the trees, blinding their senses and scorching the surrounding air.

"Fall back! Move!" Ser Hughway roared, grabbing Damian’s shoulder and leaping backward.

The surging dragonfire was spreading indiscriminately through the central sector, utterly unconcerned with distinguishing friend from foe.

Knowing the catastrophic nature of Dark Sister’s breath, both warriors retreated several dozen paces into a clear pocket, moving with extreme caution as falling, burning branches rained down around them.

High above, Craig’s crimson hair whipped wildly in the updraft generated by the flames.

He looked down at the burning hellscape below, his voice echoing like a thunderclap across the sky.

"Valthor!!"

(Descend!!)

Dark Sister tucked her wings, projecting herself downward in a terrifying, vertical dive!

She plummeted through the smoke at breakneck speed, her iron-hard scales completely impervious to her own blazing inferno.

As she neared the forest floor, her colossal wings snapped outward, creating a pressure wave that flattened the burning trees around her.

With brutal, effortless grace, she swept her long, spiked tail across the clearing, cleanly slicing through three fleeing Red-Scaled Deers and crushing their charred bodies into the dirt.

BOOM!

Before the dragon even settled onto the ground, a shadow leaped from her back.

Craig vaulted off Dark Sister’s shoulders, descending thirty feet through the air and landing gracefully on his feet amidst the blazing embers.

The shockwave of his landing cleared a ring of ash around his boots.

Draped in his immaculate crimson battle suit, his sheathed sword resting at his hip, Craig slowly straightened his back.

He looked across the burning, ash-filled clearing, a wide, lopsided grin written across his handsome face as his dark golden eyes locked onto the towering shadow stirring deep within the heart of the flames.

The primary target had finally been flushed out.