Covered in blood, Volna looked up at the sky in shock and saw two Great Dragons hurtling toward them like arrows loosed from a bow.
With the aid of the power of the wind, Islyn's Great Dragon, Skeld, flew at an astonishing speed. Like a streak of silver-gray lightning, she plunged among the male Wildlings in the blink of an eye.
Before they could even understand what was happening, a single beat of Skeld's enormous wings sent dozens of men flying.
Her thick tail, studded with sharp barbs, swept like the Grim Reaper's scythe, smashing several men to pieces with every lash.
"Creeeak!"
Bolstered by the power of the wind stirred up by her wings, Skeld's silver-gray dragonfire burst among the male Wildlings like fireworks, blossoming into silver lotuses. Over a hundred men were instantly burned into charred corpses.
Yet the Wildlings' crude arrows and spears did nothing when they struck Skeld. Her dragonfire instantly reduced them to ash and molten iron.
Just then, the even larger blue-black Great Dragon, Veldrak, charged into the fray. With each beat of his enormous wings, countless sharp shards of ice swept toward the men like daggers.
Their thick fur clothing offered no protection whatsoever, and the storm of ice shards pierced their bodies in an instant. Over a hundred were unlucky enough to be struck in vital spots and collapsed into pools of blood, howling in agony.
"Run!"
These lawless Wildlings, who had never known fear, finally broke and fled beneath the overwhelming presence of the Great Dragons.
Iseryn and her sister did not pursue them to the last man. They merely had the Spearwives drag all the dead male Wildlings onto an uninhabited islet.
Amid their solemn prayers, the hundreds of Wildlings were soon burned to ash by the Great Dragons and