Chapter 39: Kill the Backline First

Samantha’s roar echoed through the Iron Fir Hills, shaking loose a cascade of dust from the cliff faces.

Along with the initial wound to its right joint, its body was pierced with numerous poisoned crossbow bolts; the blue toxin spread across its scales, synergizing with necromantic curses to flood it with weakness, numbness, and sluggishness.

The alchemical workshop had long since become ruins.

Boiling black oil had been splashed across the ground, melting sand and stone into glassy charred crusts; iron fir trunks were scored with claw marks, their bark blackened by lingering dragonfire.

Samantha’s tail swept across the rock platform, sending shards flying like buckshot, clattering against the warriors’ armor.

The necromancer’s skeletal ghostfire struck again, this time aimed at Samantha’s eyes.

Samantha turned her head to dodge, but the golden-haired warrior seized the opening, lunging forward and slamming his door-sized greatsword into her old wound; dragonblood sprayed, glinting vivid red under the moonlight.

“You wretched insects!”

Samantha roared.

The searing pain ignited the ferocity in her red dragon blood; she suddenly reared up, her hind legs exploding off the ground, launching her several meters into the air as she slammed her full weight into the golden-haired warrior.

Unfortunately, her motion was unrefined and sluggish.

Her momentum was less than one-tenth of Garos’s.

The golden-haired warrior rolled aside with ease, avoiding her charge entirely.

This mistake cost Samantha dearly.

The spellcaster’s binding incantation struck her back at once.

She felt as if a mountain had been dumped onto her shoulders; her claws sank deep into the rock, and for a moment she could barely hold her own weight.

Hooked chains shot through the air, their tips jamming into the gaps between Samantha’s scales, the other ends wrapped around the thick trunks of iron firs by the wanderers.

Holy Punishment!

The white-robed priest raised his palm high, then slammed it down; a thunderous wave of holy energy descended from the air, striking Samantha and tearing open her flesh, sending up acrid, smoldering smoke.

Holy attacks inflicted double damage against evil dragons.

Samantha snarled in agony, her whole body trembling violently.

The adventurers’ assault came like a storm of wind and rain, one wave after another, leaving the young red dragon unable to defend herself.

The golden-haired warrior raised his heavy greatsword again, its runes blazing blindingly bright as he swung it toward Samantha’s hind leg.

This brutal strike did not target Samantha’s neck or other vital spots; the adventurers’ previous attacks had also rarely aimed directly for kills. The reason was simple—they wanted to capture the young red dragon alive.

A living young dragon.

Worth several times more than a dead one.

Thinking of the fortune ahead, all five faces broke into grins.

But then—

Just as the blade was about to fall, the sky above suddenly darkened.

It was not clouds obscuring the moon—it was some creature blotting out star and moonlight, casting a shadow over the dragon and the humans locked in battle.

Samantha’s tense dragon face instantly relaxed, and she smiled.

“You vile insects—you’re all dead now.”

She said.

Tension replaced the adventurers’ smiles, which froze and vanished at once.

Everyone heard the sound.

—Like a thunderstorm rolling along the ground, or steel being ripped apart with brute force.

It was the roar of dragon wings tearing through air—the deafening death announcement formed by the wind being shredded by the fine, feather-like scales on Garos’s wing membranes as he dove at full speed.

“A dragon! Another dragon! Everyone on guard! Harven, cast the anti-flight spell now!”

The golden-haired warrior roared, looking up into the deeper-than-night dragon eyes of the red iron hatchling; the gale hit his face, whipping his hair wildly.

The spellcaster swiftly formed the anti-flight incantation.

This spell locked onto its target directly—guaranteed to hit—and the young dragon’s magic resistance could not negate it; once the magic energy in its wings was dispelled, its flight would be severely disrupted, losing balance.

Just like before, when they dealt with Samantha.

The intricate runes materialized instantly across Garos’s wings.

But what the adventurers did not expect was that this monstrously powerful hatchling showed no sign of effect; its enormous, grotesquely proportioned wings flared, and it still hurtled toward them with impossible speed and agility.

In the instant the black-red dragon shadow passed over the treetops, dense branches snapped clean off, and countless leaves swirled wildly in chaos.

There was no time to wonder why.

Facing the dragon plummeting like a meteor, the golden-haired warrior did as before—rolled aside in a desperate dodge, avoiding the strike from above.

Simultaneously, the black-red dragon tilted its right wing, displaying unmatched agility.

It changed direction, abandoning the golden-haired warrior, and suddenly appeared directly above the spellcaster.

The shadow engulfed his body.

The spellcaster’s heart clenched; under the crushing pressure, he nearly forgot to breathe.

At the last possible moment, the pendant around his neck flared to life, triggering a protective spell.

Shield!

A semi-transparent yellow barrier enveloped the spellcaster, shielding him within.

CRACK! With a thunderous, muffled boom, the shield shattered like an eggshell beneath Garos’s claw; the spellcaster’s eyes filled with despair as his vision was entirely swallowed by the dragon’s claw.

The ground jolted violently; dust surged upward in a shockwave, sending shards of rock flying in all directions.

When the dragon’s wings dispersed the dust, a deep, sunken crater was revealed.

Garos shook his body, shedding loose stones and dirt as he leapt out of the pit.

The body embedded in the crater’s fissures was now a ruined, unrecognizable mass—gender and race indistinguishable, fused with the soil.

Only then—

Seeing the red iron hatchling whose scales gleamed like cast steel, the few who had been attacked finally snapped to attention, their nerves taut.

This hatchling’s attack had been too swift, too violent—far beyond their expectations—and in an instant, it had eliminated their spellcaster.

And now that they thought about it—

Its initial assault on the warrior had been a feint; its target had been crystal clear from the start: the spellcaster, the core of their team. It struck without warning and killed him outright.

The spellcaster was weaker in direct combat than the golden-haired warrior.

But he was more vital and crucial—and Samantha’s frustration had stemmed mostly from him.

On the other side, the golden-haired warrior, having failed to dodge, rose to his feet, his face grim beyond measure.

He tilted his head slightly, drew a deep breath, and the mana stone embedded in his chest armor flared to life; the surrounding runes ignited in unison.

The golden-haired warrior gained enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, and defense.

The cost: one precious mana stone.

“Evil dragon—die!”

The golden-haired warrior roared, hefting his door-sized greatsword as he charged toward Garos.

Garos tensed his limbs, grinned at the warrior, then shattered the ground beneath him, dodging an alchemical crossbow bolt, before lunging straight at the white-robed priest.

In a group fight—

Kill the caster first, then the healer.

Let this brave warrior live a little longer—save him for last.

(End of Chapter)