The Horn of Final Battle

The Demon Dragon was bleeding.

Ferocious wounds blossomed across its body. The gushing blood turned into flaming meteors; wherever they struck the ground, they left deep craters, and wherever they struck the holy knights' shields, they instantly corroded those sacred shields and set the holy knights hiding beneath them ablaze.

Iron Duke's body had been roasted red-hot. The magicstone ore filling its interior was being consumed at a rapid rate. One of its arms spun like a drill before delivering a savage punch against the Demon Dragon's claw.

The Demon Dragon's body seemed to be decaying. Flesh, blood, and scales all peeled away.

Yet its claw, reduced to bare bone, still held Iron Duke firmly in its grip.

Even Iron Duke's heart, cold as steel, felt a trace of fear. "Its Life Aura is clearly plummeting, and so is its defense. But why hasn't the sense of danger in my heart faded? Does it still have enough strength to drag me down with it?"

Lothar's eyes remained fixed on Iron Duke. It was time for this indestructible iron pea to be destroyed.

Boom—

Flames swallowed Lothar's body. This decayed body, struck by the Dragon-Slaying Crossbow and eroded by countless dragon wraiths, was directly abandoned by Lothar and turned into kindling for the furnace. Below, the British soldiers and superhumans could only watch helplessly as the Demon Dragon, which should have died on the spot, continued to spew dragon breath without end—even after becoming a burning skeletal dragon.

Countless dazzling streaks of light came shooting in as heavy artillery roared.

They struck the skeletal dragon, shattering countless bones and blasting away countless scales.

"Quick! Attack that Demon Dragon at any cost! I can barely sense Iron Duke's presence anymore!"

A Royal Mage suddenly cried out. His magical power had at least