In the Name of Azure Wolf White Deer
"Roar!"
The monstrous creature, engulfed in crimson and black flames, roared with its neck raised. The violent and majestic Dragon's Might's roar echoed and swirled around it, and the terrifying dragon's might swept and swept over it. One after another, the giant wolves trembled, like domestic dogs encountering their natural enemy, howling and tucking their tails between their legs, retreating in fear.
"Waaah!"
Suddenly, the wolf that had been lying on the low hill suddenly stood up, flashing like lightning, and smashed several gray-blue giant wolves that were trying to turn around and flee. Then it let out a high-pitched and chilling wolf howl, and invisible ripples spread out, rivaling the Dragon's Might's might.
In an instant, the hundreds of bluish-gray giant wolves surrounding the Lone Mountain erupted with fury, their pupils filled with blood-red. The hundreds of wolf riders were of one unified aura, their flames blazing fiercely. They regrouped and surged towards the mountain peak like a surging tide, passing over corpses and pits.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
As they drew closer, the Hunnic knights, each with their bows drawn and arrows nocked, fired at the dragon's weak points—its eyes, throat, and heart—that blocked their path.
Like a rain of arrows from a black locust, the arrows fell densely, but most of them were burned to ashes by the surrounding flames before they even reached the dragon's body.
Even if a few arrows pierced the outermost protective layer, the dragon simply closed its eyes and lowered its head, shaking them off amidst the clanging of metal.
At the same time, the dragon saw that the wolf riders were launching a round of flanking attacks. Its narrowed vertical pupils revealed a chilling look, and it immediately slapped its claws downwards.
Boom boom boom boom!
In an instant, the earth shook violently, and pillars of flame spiraled upwards, accompanied by the explosion of soil, instantly turning dozens of wolf riders into charred remains or splattering their brains, leaving the scene a bloody mess.
Upon seeing this, the Hun cavalry instinctively tightened their reins, causing their formation to falter and their offensive to temporarily halt.
"Moo!"
At that moment, a deep deer call came from not far away. The Xiongnu cavalry parted, and a pure white deer surrounded by seven-colored light gracefully stepped forward, raised its head and called out, dispelling the wind and sand.
"@￥##&..."
Hundreds of people around them had their faces painted with distorted patterns and covered with masks of gods outlined in colorful lines. Holding ritual implements such as waist bells, bronze mirrors, drums, and drum whips, they twisted their bodies wildly, danced abstract dances, clapped their limbs, and uttered various incomprehensible chants and murmurs.
Immediately, a faint echo came from the sky, and beams of light of various colors fell on the Lone Mountain Wolf Riders, enveloping them in a Star Ring -like aura.
"The Eternal Heaven has blessed us, the descendants of the Azure Wolves and Deer, who are invincible!"
Hundreds of wolf riders regrouped, and the giant wolf launched its arrows with a running start, piercing the air with a sharp tearing sound, the tips of the blades faintly revealing twisted symbols.
The faint, slight tingling sensation caused the dragon to immediately flap its wings, stirring up a storm that blew away a multitude of arrows. In its open mouth, red and black Dragon Flame had already gathered.
"Oh oh oh oh!"
Suddenly, the wolf riders opposite them advanced instead of retreating, their faces contorted with excitement. They opened their mouths and let out a series of roars, sheathing their long swords and drawing their scimitars. With superb riding skills, they maneuvered the giant wolf to the left and right, each raising its gleaming blade and slashing at the dragon's wings, ribs, and feet.
Even if their bodies are stained with red and black flames, their flesh charred and torn apart; even if they are smashed into mincemeat and burned to ashes by dragons... they do not back down, like a pack of vicious wolves that are cruel to their enemies but even more cruel to themselves, desperately trying to leave wounds on their prey and tear off strips of flesh.
In an instant, several scales of the dragon, which had been repeatedly attacked, began to crack slightly. After this round of slaughter, nearly half of the hundreds of wolf riders were lost.
The problem is that the opponent has already broken through the dragon's defensive line and is flanking and encircling the enemy without hesitation.
The Celts population, numbering less than 200, had lost a third of its men, further fueling their panic. The morale that had been raised so hard after the dragon appeared also declined.
At that moment, a commotion arose, and another small group of troops had already crept up the Lone Mountain from the rear, twirling their scimitars as they swept towards the magnificent carriage that was being desperately guarded by only five wounded Roman Soldier.
Under the sharp scimitars and the bites of the giant wolves, the Roman Soldier, exhausted from their crossbows, were quickly beheaded and torn apart. Even the Centurion, after killing a wolf rider, was impaled on the shoulder by an arrow that followed and pinned to the chariot.
A mentally broken military officer, just as he screamed and poked his head out to escape this terrible inferno, was instantly bitten in the head by a giant wolf that swept past. His headless corpse convulsed and stiffened as it collapsed, blood spurting from its neck and pale yellow urine flowing out uncontrollably.
The two remaining military officers huddled in the cramped carriage, screaming and trembling.
With their eyes closed, they recklessly poured magic into the defensive spells, ignoring the depletion of their own power. The ear-piercing scratching and howling of wolves around them caused their mental defenses to crumble after only a few seconds, and their last barrier collapsed with a cracking sound.
Oh dear, am I really going to die?
The blonde girl, pushed to the front, was pale and terrified. She gripped the bronze dagger tightly, trembling as she held it to her throat, repeatedly trying to slit her own artery for a dramatic end.
As she caught a glimpse of the rust and nicks on the blade, she swallowed hard, her momentum fading away.
Just as the little girl was hesitating, the wooden partition between the carriages was violently smashed open. Amidst the flying sawdust, a ferocious wolf's head, with blood dripping from its mouth, peered inside and viciously lunged, the stench of blood rapidly approaching.
"ᚦ...
At the critical moment, three intermittent chants reverberated, and runes representing the three powers of "Guardian Triangle," "Flame," and "Fate" flashed and exploded in mid-air, sweeping in all directions.
Instantly, the eerie feeling of restraint dissipated, and pillars of flame rose up from the position, incinerating nearly a hundred wolf riders who were frozen in place.
The carriage and the Celts camp, enveloped by the inverted triangular light pattern, felt no temperature from the outside and narrowly escaped disaster once again.
The majestic light that surrounded the dragon soared into the sky, forming an invincible thunderstorm that darkened the sky, as if a god were enraged.
Looking at the whimpering, howling, and uneasy-looking wolves and deer, as well as the heavily damaged vanguard, the Huns's expression changed drastically, and fear filled their hearts. They couldn't help but turn their gaze to the king who sat diagonally on the low hill, holding his sword.
Attila slowly rose, gazing indifferently ahead. She raised her hand and pulled out the seven-colored greatsword that was stuck into the rocky ground. As magic was injected, the Star Ring light patterns on the sword blade converged and lit up in circles.
"Laugh!"
Just then, thunder roared in the sky, and a slender and elegant figure, holding a long spear that was burning with blue flames, plummeted down, stirring up a fierce Aether Storm along the way, immediately interrupting the Hun king's gathering of power.
Attila's gaze sharpened, and she immediately raised her sword and slashed upwards, a seven-colored arc of light striking diagonally upwards.
Under the intense spatial distortion, the halo of the explosion splashed out in all directions, forming dazzling colors. Attila below swayed and took several steps back, while the Valkyrie holding the gun groaned and flew backward, blood spilling from her mouth.
The difference in strength is obvious at a glance.
However, just as the light green-haired Valkyrie was about to fall to the ground, the dragon's body surged with light patterns, its size shrank dramatically, and it transformed into human form, catching the swaying, falling figure in time.
The man who appeared in mid-air, amidst the surging red and black Aether Storm, had long hair that danced wildly like snakes, and vertical pupils that exuded a murderous aura. He looked down and stared at the Hun king on the desolate plain.
Attila gave the two uninvited guests a deep look, her brow furrowing, before she flipped over and leaped onto the back of the wolf, raising her arms.
In an instant, the remaining thousand or so Hunnic Wolf Riders turned their horses around and followed the silver-haired girl, retreating like the tide and gradually disappearing on the horizon.