Anthony raised his head, staring at the spectral lion. Not a trace of fear showed in his eyes—only pure contempt.
"A mere kitten..."
"How dare you roar before the servants of the Lord of Cinders?"
"I'll show you all what true power is! What the incarnation of ruin looks like!"
Anthony laughed wildly, utter excitement and frenzy surfacing on his scale-covered face. This was his first time wielding such power. It represented the most direct, intimate communion with the Dragon Lord—how could he not exult with joy?
"Everyone, recite the oath with me!"
"Douse the flame of hope!"
"Rule with an iron fist!"
"The Dragon Lord above all!"
Over a hundred dragon-blessed paladins raised their longswords in unison. The flames wreathing their bodies converged in the sky above, forming the phantasmal silhouette of a red dragon wrought of flame, dozens of meters long.
[Advent of the Dragon Lord]
When twelve or more Dragon Oath Paladins recite the Sacred Oath of the Dragon Vassal simultaneously, they can summon a phantasmal silhouette of a red dragon composed of flame, capable of bearing Cassius's will in its descent.
"*Roaaar—*"
The phantasmal red dragon slowly beat its wings, looking down upon the spectral lion as it let out a long, thunderous roar.
Gazing up at the peerlessly magnificent avatar in the sky, Anthony sank involuntarily to one knee.
"Your Majesty..."
A fanatic's devotion and fervor shone on his scaled face. The same was true for the rest of the dragon-blessed paladins; only Fried barely managed to keep his wits about him.
What terrifying strength.
What a perfect form.
This was the sole ruler of the Kingdom of Cinders, the master they served.
Even if it was merely a phantom fashioned from fire, so long as it touched His presence, it wielded the power to obliterate everything in its path.
Facing that terrifying phantasmal red dragon high above, under that overwhelming, horrifying pressure, the lion spirit summoned by the Lionheart Knights actually whimpered and shrank back half a step.
It was afraid!
It felt terror!
Maxi instantly sensed disaster. This meant the will of the Lionheart Knights was wavering.
The greater the belief, the greater the power; the firmer the conviction, the sturdier the effect. Such was the hallmark of all oath spells. For that very reason, beings of higher Charisma could often invoke grander oath spells, because their sheer confidence and will alone could bend reality and alter the world.
Yet now, the lion spirit—drawn predominantly from Maxi's own spirit—was growing increasingly translucent.
The fanatical dragon-blessed paladins, however, were an entirely different matter. Born into destitution and misery, their fates had been rewritten by the rise of the Kingdom of Cinders. Even if the world were to end, their belief in the red dragon's absolute might would never falter.
"That's just an illusion made of fire!"
"Have faith! The Bosque Lion is immortal and indestructible!"
The "Golden Lion Knight" shouted urgently. His voice snapped the surrounding men out of the draconic aura's suppression, causing the spectral lion to solidify slightly.
Yet the red dragon phantom in the sky was already descending. Spreading its broad wings, it opened its gaping maw and unleashed a torrent of scorching flame.
*Boom—*
In virtually an instant, the spectral lion was engulfed in roaring flames. It hissed, shrieked, and thrashed relentlessly, yet it could not alter the fate of being burned to nothingness.
At last, it disintegrated into scattered motes of light, fading into thin air.
"No, no..." Maxi shook his head repeatedly, muttering under his breath.
His face had gone ashen, his eyes hollow. The moment the lion spirit shattered, his psyche suffered devastating trauma.
His mind felt like a purgatory, as if a surging sea of fire were raging within, threatening to reduce his will, his spirit, and even his soul to ash, damning him to eternal ruin.
"The Bosque Lion was supposed to be immortal..."
"I don't believe it..."
Under this immense psychological strain, the "Golden Lion Knight" Maxi Stewart completely lost his usual composure. He shook his head frantically, words tumbling incoherently from his lips.
Maxi looked up, threw his arms wide, and broke into manic laughter.
"Hahahahaha! They're lying to me! It's all an illusion!"
"You can't kill me! I am the 'Golden Lion Knight' Maxi Stewart! Grand Knight Commander of the great Lionheart Knights!"
The next instant, his pupils reflected a brilliant blaze.
Maxi Stewart was swallowed whole by the searing flames, his entire body catching fire.
His raving will was far from powerful enough to bend reality, and the physical fire did not care in the slightest about his disbelief.
Yet he was, after all, a high-level classed individual. His sheer physical resilience was formidable, meaning even the flames could not easily reduce him to ash at once.
The onlookers saw only a tall figure thrashing and rolling amid the inferno.
He burned all over, his skin blackening and cracking like a humanoid monster sculpted from coal. Heart-wrenching wails and roars tore from his throat as he screamed things like "This isn't real!" and "It's all an illusion!"
Compared to their physically robust commander, the other Lionheart Knights met a far swifter end. Many only managed a muffled grunt before being incinerated into heaps of ash, leaving behind only masterwork gear gradually melting into puddles of molten silver.
Soon, nothing remained on the ground but black ash blanketing the soil, trickling rivulets of molten silver, and still-blazing fires.
"*Roaaar—*"
The phantasmal red dragon raised its head amid the sea of fire, roaring toward the heavens.
"Long live the Lord of Cinders!"
"Immortal is the Great Red Dragon!"
"Behold the mighty power bestowed by our master!"
The dragon-blessed paladins raised their arms and cheered. Like fanatical cultists, they danced around the sea of flames, as if performing some bizarre ritual.
The elite private force passed down through the Principality of Bosque for a thousand years—a legion that had achieved countless storied feats in the history of the Northlands, that had once shattered a frost giant chieftain and slain a white dragon—the Lionheart Knights was wiped out entirely, without a single survivor.
In a stroke of dark humor, the person in the world who understood the legacy of the Lionheart Knights best at this moment was likely Fried, who had already become a dragon-blessed paladin.
The destruction of the Lionheart Knights sounded the death knell for the coalition army's collapse.
Their recent countercharge had merely been the dying flash of a candle, fueled by the knights' sheer might. The current collapse was the truest, most brutal reality of the battlefield—one that laid bare the yawning chasm in military power.
"Crush them! Fight for the Kingdom of Cinders!"
Amid the surging tide of tiefling infantry, Mezrolash raised the Everburning Greatsword in his hand and bellowed the command.
Before him, the coalition's defensive line was riddled with breaches and crumbling into ruin, leaving only the panicked backs of retreating soldiers fleeing in disarray.
Chapter 322