"Hand over your head!!!"
Shing—
With a single slash, the sky seemed to go completely dark for an instant. The sudden turn of events was so abrupt that it felt like an illusion.
Yet a massive wound had already appeared on the White Dragon's neck, nearly severing its enormous head completely.
Its windpipe cut, the Vile King could not even let out a pained scream as it struggled and fell toward the ground.
Boom—crash!!!
Its enormous body smashed into the buildings of the Holy City, kicking up clouds of dust and crushing many of the Holy City's knights and wyverns into pulp along with it.
The man in the voluminous black robe, wielding a greatsword, was already standing where the White Dragon had fallen. Even the tremors caused by its impact did not affect him in the slightest.
Blue flames drifted from his body, as though he had come from the underworld.
A crimson light flickered in his eyes as he raised his greatsword.
He had come to slaughter.
For he was death itself.
But today, his gaze was focused on only one thing.
It was a filthy thing that should have died long ago, yet had returned to reality in answer to a summons, unleashing malice—a piece of trash that had always been fallen, and now had become even uglier.
"Vile King. A White Dragon that has already lost the name of Vortigern, and the meaning of Vortigern."
The edge of King Hassan's greatsword lightly scraped across the White Dragon's scales, producing a harsh sound.
The White Dragon seemed to have entered its final moments, unable even to make a sound.
Its blood flowed all over the ground. Though it was called the White Dragon, its blood was nearly pure black, giving off such an ominous aura that no