Chapter 167: The Shaman Stared at by Flying Dragons

From ancient times to the present, dragon‑slaying has always been an irresistible romance for intelligent beings; they foolishly think they can use the steel in their hands to oppose the sky‑blocking Monster, and with their frail bodies enjoy the thrill of conquering the Monster that sits at the top of the food chain.

For the war‑loving Niksaran, this is likewise an unavoidable temptation.

Thus, they raised their swords and shields before Red Dragon Di Luo Na O.

"Ah, you bring me amusement, slaves; I commend your ignorant, fearless bravery."

The Red Dragon laughed heartily, then suddenly charged at the army on the ground.

Its massive body slammed into the ground, wantonly trampling the Niksaran beneath it; a swift sweep of its thick dragon tail flung a dozen soldiers dozens of meters away, crushing them into mush.

The obsidian longsword struck the crimson scales, sparking a flash and a crisp clang, yet left not even a white mark.

The ancient Red Dragon's scales granted Di Luo Na O unrivaled physical defense; the soldiers' attacks were no more than a tickle to him.

The snarling dragon gaped its maw, and deep‑red flames ravaged the crowd; the metal armor on the soldiers became instruments of torture, sealing them in steel cans and turning them to char.

The disparity in strength was so great that, even without the shaman's Divine Spell, Dragon Might alone could have dealt with that army.

This is the power of the True Dragon: solid hexagonal Warrior, plus the mobility granted by flight; wave‑after‑wave tactics are often the most foolish way to deal with them.

Even in Frelen's history, in the well‑known large‑scale dragon‑slaying expeditions, the weak adventurers were usually equipped with fine magical weapons, the only chance for the weak to pierce dragon‑scale defenses.

And the longswords these soldiers wield, forged of steel and some obsidian, were clearly not magical weapons.

The shaman watched the Red Dragon crush the army yet did not act; clenching his teeth, he stared toward the distant Niksaran Basin and chose to flee outright!

"Damn it, these soldiers alone could never stand against that Red Dragon; I must go into the basin to find the Undead shaman. With the big shaman's instructions, he would never dare refuse me."

The shaman calculated his move and fled the scene; the soldiers, seeing their leading shaman run away, instantly suffered a mental collapse.

"No! Wait! Damn coward! Azu'er will forever curse you!" the soldiers spat venomous curses.

The crowd broke up in a clamor; they lost confidence against the Red Dragon and scattered in all directions.

"Tsk."

The Red Dragon let out a tsk; it hadn't had enough fun yet, why did they all run away?

And that shaman—why run toward the basin? I can't kill him, but letting that Juan Ce Long kill him will, right?

Di Luo Na O muttered curses as he chased into the distance, spewing scorching tongues of fire that seared the soldiers on the ground.

On the other side, the fleeing shaman had already reached the entrance of the valley.

The rain dragon atop the peak glanced at the shaman sprinting through the canyon, rolled its eyes, and returned to its nest to lie down.

Anyway, there's a big boss inside; it doesn't care about the trouble the Red Dragon caused.

The shaman ran at full speed; just as he was about to leave the Great Canyon, a dozen flying dragons suddenly descended from the sky, eyeing him warily.

"I'm here looking for the Bu Tuwa shaman," the shaman said coldly to the flying dragon, a hint of doubt in his eyes. He had heard that shaman kept many flying dragons, which was true, but they should have all been turned into Undead creatures; why did they look so normal?

The shaman shook his head, not pressing the point; perhaps the other side had changed its taste.

He waited for the flying dragons to clear the way after hearing the Undead shaman's name, growing anxious, fearing the Red Dragon might arrive.

But the dozen flying dragons, upon hearing the Undead shaman's name, erupted with blazing fury in their eyes.

"Damn! This guy knows that damned Niksaran!" the flying dragons whispered to each other in draconic.

"Kill him! I want to eat his flesh!" one flying dragon snarled at him, making the shaman feel uneasy, and he arched his body warily.

"No, we don't know his purpose; we should leave it to the master."

"He probably still doesn't know that shaman is dead through and through; let's take him to see the master, haha, looking forward to his terrified scream," a flying dragon suggested mischievously, gaining the approval of the rest, while the one that wanted to eat the shaman's flesh remained unsatisfied, casting a regretful glance at him.

"Ahem, come with us, Niksaran!" the lead flying dragon said in a clumsy common tongue, its accent thick.

The shaman exhaled, realizing these flying dragons were indeed the Undead shaman's servants.

He lifted his head again, marching proudly behind the flying dragons, not forgetting to order, "Send some men to guard the canyon entrance; someone is hunting me."

A few flying dragons, hearing him still dare to command them, narrowed their eyes in anger.

!

"You fool, after the master finishes questioning, I'll make sure to bring him back to the nest for 'pampering'." a flying dragon said lewdly.

The other flying dragons instantly stared at that dragon with terror: "You can actually get your hands on this thing? You're truly a beast, Jiafei."

The dragon called 'Jiafei' grinned proudly: "You don't understand; I'm following our ancestors—True Dragons love to mate with different races!"

Those dragons flew away with disdain, leaving Jiafei to continue forward with the shaman; along the way he even let the shaman ride on his back, a gesture that made the shaman feel immensely pleased, very satisfied with the dragon's service.

"Good, good, don't worry; later I'll tell your master, and you'll definitely get a reward!"

The shaman arrived at the entrance of Naimi Xisi's nest, gave a grand wave, and prepared to go inside.

Jiafei, seeing him go in, followed right behind his rear; he was waiting for the master to finish questioning before taking him away, and had to watch not to be gobbled up by the master.

The shaman looked at the flying dragon trailing his rear, frowned, and said, "Why are you coming in with me, uneasy? Rest assured, I keep my word and will speak for you."

Seeing the dragon ignore him, silently staying behind his rear, the shaman grew displeased and decided not to say kind words to this sightless dragon later.

His conversation with his master is not something a mere beast can hear; soon the Undead shaman will punish it, fool!

The shaman ignored the dragon's following, kept moving inward, but the deeper he went, the more something felt off.

As an Undead shaman, the old lair should be saturated with Undead aura, yet here it was spotless, blooming with all sorts of blue Arcane Power flowers, exquisitely beautiful.

He had already felt odd outside; there wasn't a single Undead creature, only a crowd of living Niksaran laboring to move bricks.

Has this Undead shaman changed orientation? Switched professions? Why does he now enjoy enslaving living beings?

(End of Chapter)