On the battlefield, Worton was locked in combat with a High-Gold Frost Dragon knight, his heart filled with shock.
Where had things gone wrong? How had it come to this? After repelling the Frost Dragon knight, Worton glanced around. Belger was also struggling, surrounded and attacked by two Frost Dragon knights.
As for his two nominal subordinates, they had already died beneath the Silver Dragon's Frost Breath.
In the sky, the three bishops had already fallen into a disadvantage.
Against true dragons, the abilities gained by plundering dragon bloodlines were ultimately cheap imitations, easily suppressed by their opponents.
No, I have to get out of here.
Worton continuously shifted the battlefield outward, creating opportunities for himself.
There was never a shortage of clever people on a battlefield, nor was there ever a shortage of fools.
A small number of Dragon Worship Cult members chose to betray their companions, creating chances for their own escape.
Scorching magma swallowed Velin's opponent.
Half the body of the Dragon Worship Cult member who had transformed into a Black Dragon had been destroyed. From high above, the writhing flesh within was clearly visible.
Velin swung his sword and severed the opponent's head. A hideous Black Dragon head rolled to the ground.
"Seraphina, fly higher."
"Yes, Master."
The Red Dragon soared into the sky, circling along the edge of the battlefield as she continuously harvested the lives of stragglers.
Against powerful opponents determined to flee, Velin could only avoid their edge for now and pick on the weaker ones.
As time passed, the scales of victory on the battlefield tilted toward the Silver Dragons.
Boom—
With an enormous crash, a red giant dragon fell from the sky.
The death of the Dragon Worship Cult Bishop here brought the bloodthirsty Dragon Worship Cult members back to their