Lament of the Ancient Dragon

Amid the violent collision, explosions spread wildly as all kinds of energy intertwined, clashed, and converged, producing muffled booms like rolling thunder.

The Shockwave expanded at an unimaginable speed, and the overflowing firelight nearly burst apart Tiamat's barrier.

Even the surrounding space was covered in dense, spiderweb-like cracks, as though it were about to be torn apart by the terrifying aftershock.

"Gods above."

"Tiamat protect us!"

"Great Lord of Eternal Radiance!"

Outside the pitch-black barrier, no one could see what was happening within. Whether Seleucia's soldiers or the cultists of the Dragon Worship Cult, all waited anxiously for the outcome of this war.

Only the players looked relaxed, wearing expressions as though they were enjoying a show. They wished they could burrow inside to watch the battle, and while the two sides were deadlocked, they took the chance to sneak around and kill quite a few isolated cultists.

Count Adrian stared at the distant barrier, feeling the overwhelming aftershock. His brows were tightly furrowed as he silently thought:

Lord Franz, was I right or wrong to bring the Embers of the Burned Empire into this war?

There was no other reason. The Embers of the Burned Emperor's power was simply too terrifying and too difficult to control. It made Adrian tremble with fear; cooperating with him was no different from seeking the skin of a tiger.

Could they truly retain their independence by becoming allies with such a being? Would they become a puppet regime like Seleucia's royal family?

Despite his tangled thoughts, Adrian still hoped that the Embers of the Burned Emperor would win—preferably a brutal victory bought at a terrible cost.

After all, their soldiers had no way to Contend Against the Lord of the Rotten Swamp. If the Primeval Green Dragon won, he and his soldiers would