Chapter 303: Frightened to Death

Emmer drew his dragon-patterned two-handed sword, yanked hard at his chest armor, and with a crack, two wings unfurled behind him.

The Winged Knights ranked outside the top ten on the continent, but their wings still had notable advantages, allowing knights to conserve tremendous energy in flight.

But not all Dragon Knights were equipped with wings—only captains, vice-captains, and Grand Knights above the rank of Great Swordsman carried them.

Unlike the bulky wings of the Winged Knights, Emmer's wings were as thin as cicada wings and could move, which is why only those with Great Swordsman-level strength could manipulate them with agility.

Through years of practice and precise control, using his own aura to drive them, the wings granted Emmer maneuverability equal to that of a dragon.

The dragon beneath him had been raised by Emmer since childhood; they shared meals and lodging, closer than a wife, and its trembling instantly alerted Emmer that something was wrong.

As soon as his wings unfurled and his aura surged, he rose into the air with the wind.

Emmer was captain—and the strongest Dragon Knight, possessing High-Grade Sword Saint power, capable of brief flight in the air; with his wings, his agility matched that of a dragon.

Emmer's instinct was correct: the instant he left the dragon's back, the trembling beast could no longer hold back—it let out a piercing shriek and turned to flee.

Emmer had never seen his companion so terrified; the scream was so agonized it sounded like weeping.

During training, dragons underwent adaptation drills—for instance, illusions would suddenly manifest a giant dragon in front of them, repeated multiple times to acclimate them to facing true giants.

Of course, there were costs: some timid dragons were directly frightened to death by the illusions, and illusions weren't infallible—they could mimic a giant dragon's form, but not its dragon aura.

The innate aura of a giant dragon exerted supreme intimidation over dragon beasts; a mere two giant dragons had already disrupted the heavy-load squad's formation.

Almost simultaneously with the dragon's turn to flee, Emmer sensed a crushing aura—he looked closely and saw Ang's body surging with scales, rapidly transforming into a scaled humanoid form.

"Dragon-blooded? So that's it. Seems you're quite high-ranked—you scared my dragon so badly, so if I eliminate you, my dragons will return to normal?" Emmer's tone was utterly dominant, a complete contrast to his earlier cautious demeanor.

Caution came from tactical awareness; dominance came from self-confidence.

Though not a Truth Master, Emmer was a seasoned High-Grade Sword Saint; in the high skies, apart from giant dragons and Truth Mages, he saw no one as his equal.

Even Truth Masters couldn't outpace his sword once he closed the distance.

Ang curled his body, opened his mouth, and let out a resounding dragon roar.

It was hard to imagine how such a physique could produce such a terrifying sound—waves of cyan energy erupted from his front, solid as liquid, blasting outward.

Emmer, directly in the path, raised one hand before him, Ningju aura into a shield, while sealing his ears with aura.

Yet the dragon roar remained solid, like a steel drill piercing his eardrums, leaving him ringing.

But the most terrifying aspect of the roar wasn't its volume—it was the dragon aura within it: the pressure of the Dragon God, inherited from primordial ancestors tens of thousands of years ago, etched into bloodlines.

The dragons directly hit by the wave all bulged eyes, constricted pupils, swollen necks, turned ashen-blue, then plummeted from the sky.

They were frightened to death—alive.

Those slightly farther away, not directly hit, all shrieked, bowed their heads, spiraled down, and refused to obey no matter how hard their riders whipped or shouted.

Once on the ground, they retracted their wings, knelt in the most submissive posture, and buried their long necks deep into the earth.

The more distant dragons also spiraled down, but their riders forcibly pulled, kicked, and shouted to stop them mid-descent.

Though halted, they dared not advance an inch—and when Ang moved, they wailed and turned to flee.

The outermost group of dragons felt the least effect, but the Canzhuang of their kin terrified them—they hesitated, paralyzed with fear.

Not just the dragons—every Dragon Knight, including Emmer, was terrified: the fifth-ranked knight order on the continent had been wiped out by a single roar?

Even if Bruce, the Dragon Clan's patriarch, arrived personally with dozens of adult giant dragons, they couldn't produce such an aura—what was this thing?!

Any other flying mount, any other opponent, would never have produced this effect—the primordial Dragon God, ancestor of all dragon bloodlines, had been reborn in Ang—and the opposing creatures were dragon beasts with dragon blood.

One roar had shattered Emmer's confidence—he stared at Ang, uncertain and alarmed.

But there was no time to hesitate: after roaring, Ang lunged forward.

Across dozens of meters, Ang surged forward—and the next instant stood before Emmer, making Emmer's eyes bulge.

"Instant flash?! You're a space mage?!" Emmer shouted, unleashing his aura and slashing his sword upward.

In an instant, he struck three times—three blades of aura tore through the air as if splitting heaven and earth—but halfway through, they froze solid.

Not just Emmer, but Ang and the surrounding space all froze.

Air dragon, instant flash, spatial stasis.

Emmer could move only his eyes—he glanced sideways in terror as tiny dots appeared one after another between him and Ang, then froze, soon densely filling the space between them.

Emmer could do nothing—what good was High-Grade Sword Saint power? What good was aura-formed sword? What good was aura blade leaving the body? He couldn't move a single finger.

Seconds ticked by: the roar lasted four seconds, the instant flash half a second, and after eighteen and a half seconds, the frozen space resumed flow.

Emmer's half-formed blade Mang collided head-on with a bursting fireball from a volcano—it vanished instantly, and the remaining fireballs struck Emmer's body, armor, hands, and aura shield.

Amid the exploding fireball, a charred figure was blasted upward, limp and arcing downward toward the ground.

Lu Se, watching from the ground, involuntarily shrank his neck—was that a High-Grade Sword Saint? Clearly far stronger than him—and he couldn't even withstand one blow from my lord?

The Dragon Knights who had been watching scattered in panic, fleeing everywhere—only the dragons with heads buried in the earth remained, along with about a dozen whose wing membranes were pierced and couldn't fly, totaling roughly a hundred corpses.

Ang slowly landed among them, his scales retracting, yet the lingering aura still made the dragons tremble like quails.

PS: Can't hold on anymore—posting this chapter first, need to sleep.