On the city wall, the last flag was thrown down in panic, falling next to the ballista, and was blown by the sea breeze.
King Ghidorah's three heads simultaneously let out a low roar that shook the world.
The sound passed through the sea, through the city wall, through the entire city, and spread to the distance - to the heart of Lys, and to those who were hiding behind the city wall and thought they could stop Dragon King with ballistae and traps.
It's saying: Game over.
The roar of King Ghidorah is still echoing on the sea, and the golden figure has risen into the sky from the stern of the flagship.
When the wings of the three giant dragons spread out, they covered the sky and the sun.
The wingtips swept across the mast of the flagship, fluttering the three-headed Gold Dragon royal flag at the top.
King Ghidorah rose into the air, three heads turning at the same time, and six golden eyes overlooking the white city wall below - those figures who were still running, those abandoned ballistas, those overturned ammunition trucks in the chaos, everything was visible.
It has no attack.
At least not yet.
Redd stood on the back of the dragon, looking down at the city-state.
From his perspective, the whole picture of Lys is like an unfolding picture - spire palaces, crowded residences, winding streets, squares and temples in the distance.
There were several wisps of black smoke rising from the depths of the city. It was unclear whether someone was burning something or whether the fire was caused by panic.
In the direction of the port, several merchant ships were unmooring in a hurry, trying to escape from the sea that was about to become a battlefield. Before the sails could be fully raised, the ship's hull was running rampant at the dock, making a dull sound as it collided with adjacent ships.
"It's such a panic." Redd said lightly, there was no mockery in his tone, he was just stating a fact.
King Ghidorah The head in the middle let out a low whine, as if asking: Do you want me to go down and clean them all up now?
"There's no rush." Redd patted the head, "Let Dawg Lars dock the ship first. This city can't escape."
What he didn't say was that he wanted the people in the city to watch the fleet dock, watch the soldiers land, and watch the fear spread bit by bit.
That kind of psychological oppression is sometimes more effective than direct destruction.
If Daemon and those men in black robes were still in the city, they would see it.
They will know that those ballistae can't stop him, those city walls can't stop him, and this sea water can't stop him.
Then, they will make a choice.
Either run or fight.
If you run, he will chase you. If you fight, he will destroy you.
It's that simple.
Below, Dawg Russ's flagship is approaching the port at an incredible speed.
Without the threat of ballistae, the fleet advanced at an astonishing speed.
The paddlers seemed to have been given a shot in the arm, and every stroke was exhausted.
The ship's sails were swollen like balls by the sea wind, and the mast made a creaking sound, as if in protest of the speed that exceeded the design limit.
But no one slows down. No one wants to slow down.
Everyone saw the dock getting closer and closer in front of them, and everyone wanted to leave the sea as soon as possible where the wreckage of their companions was still floating.
Dawg Russ stood at the bow of the ship, staring intently at the situation on the dock.
The dock is empty.
The workers who were loading and unloading goods on the docks, the sailors of merchant ships waiting to sail, and the officials responsible for port affairs - all dispersed at the moment when the fleet broke through the waterway and the ballistae became ineffective.
The docks were littered with abandoned goods: bales of wool, clay pots filled with olive oil, piles of wood, and ropes strewn about.
Several carts had overturned on the trestle, and the mules pulling the carts were tied to the shafts, kicking their hooves restlessly and neighing in fear.
"Get ready to dock!" Dawg Russ shouted, with a kind of uncontrollable excitement in his voice, "The boarding board is ready! The first batch of people to land are following me!"
He turned around and glanced at the busy sailors and soldiers on the deck.
Many of them were still pale, and some were still trembling, but the same thing was burning in their eyes - the joy of surviving the disaster and the desire for revenge.
"Brothers!" Dawg Russ's voice rose a little higher, "When you get ashore, follow my orders! No looting, no arson, no harm to civilians!"
Our target is Daemon and his people, as well as the governor of this city! Whoever dares to mess up, I will chop off his head with my own hands!"
He paused, with a ferocious smile on his lips, "Of course - if anyone dares to attack you, then don't be polite. Beat him to death."
There was a low echo on the deck, like a beast roaring in its throat.
The bow of the flagship hit the pier of the pier.
There was a muffled "boom" sound, the wooden trestle trembled violently under the impact, and several support columns groaned under the load.
The inertia of the ship's hull knocked over a cart on the top of the trestle. The clay pots loaded on the cart rolled to the ground. Olive oil flowed on the wooden boards, exuding a rich aroma of oil.
"Ashore!" Dawg Russ was the first to jump onto the trestle. His boots slipped on the olive oil. He stumbled and almost fell, but he grabbed a cable pile next to him with one hand to stabilize his body.
After he stood firm, he pulled out the sword from his waist and pointed the tip of the sword in the direction of the city.
"Follow me!"
The soldiers poured out from the side of the ship like a tide, rushed along the trestle to the pier, and then quickly gathered into formation on the pier.
The shield bearers are in front, the spear bearers are behind, and the crossbowmen are on guard on both sides.
Although the formation looked a little messy due to the rush, the momentum was real - everyone knew that they had just climbed out of hell, and now it was their turn to bring hell to this city.
One warship after another docked at the dock.
More soldiers swarmed onto the land, and hundreds of people soon gathered on the dock.
Dawg Russ divided the team into three groups, advancing north along the pier and south, with the main force going straight into the heart of the city.
"Find Daemon! Find those people in black robes!" Dawg Russ repeated the same order to the leaders of each route, "You must see the people alive, you must see the corpses if you die!"
His eyes finally fell on the high ground deep in the city.
There is a palace there that is obviously more magnificent than other buildings, with white stone walls, a red dome, and several carved stone pillars standing in front of the door.
That should be the governor's mansion, and it's also where Daemon is most likely to be hiding.
"Middle, follow me." Dawg Russ licked his chapped lips, took long strides, and walked in that direction.
After he had walked a few steps, there was a huge sound of wind above his head.
King Ghidorah passed by from low altitude, three heads lowered, and six golden eyes scanned the advancing soldiers below, then lifted up and looked into the depths of the city again.