Caesar beat his wings and landed outside the Duru Basin.
His condition was far from good. Though his surface wounds had mostly healed under the effects of hormones, his mind was utterly exhausted, and a deep, aching soreness radiated from within his body at every moment.
As if he had just recovered from a serious illness.
It seemed the aftereffects of hormones were quite severe, far worse than stimulants. Caesar felt that his combat strength would drop by more than one level for a while. He had to rest for several days.
However, compared to him, the human army had suffered even more grievous losses.
The cavalry force tasked with pursuing the black dragon had lost nearly seventy cavalrymen and more than ten knights, its numbers reduced by a third.
And that was not even the worst part. The true blow was that the army's spellcaster—Archmage Anthony—had been killed by the black dragon, cleanly and decisively.
Once news spread through Roy's army, no matter how well-trained, determined, and formidable the force was, its morale would surely plummet.
Roy definitely would not be able to launch another large-scale assault anytime soon. That was exactly what Caesar wanted. Whether for himself or the Stone Crow Clan, time to recover was invaluable.
Next, he needed to ask how the orcs' mission had gone, assess the actual situation, and consider his next move.
But before Caesar could enter the Duru Basin, he heard the buzzing of bee wings beside his ear. When he turned toward the sound, he saw the Forest Fairy flying toward him with an anxious expression.
"Caesar."
Little Luna panted heavily. Only after seeing that the black dragon had no obvious external wounds did she finally relax, slow down, and pat her chest. "I didn't see you where we split up