Yet at that very moment, the wasteland across the Locke Great Rift Valley began to tremble. A wall of dust stretching for over ten kilometers swept across the horizon, blotting out the sky as though the apocalypse had arrived.
Through the swirling dust emerged countless ferocious dark shapes, the silhouettes of horns, claws, and fangs faintly visible—evil dragonspawn, blanketing the mountains and plains in an endless horde that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Their numbers likely reached a million, surging toward the allied positions like a roaring sea or an overflowing deluge.
Cultists of the Cult of the Dragon, clad in deep-blue robes, rode atop the towering ridges of the dragonspawn's backs, shrieking as they charged.
High in the sky, countless dragons answering the command of the Chromatic Dragon Queen held their heads high and roared, their momentum overwhelming the heavens.
Amid this deafening roar, Archbishop Jude Gonzalez of the Blue Dragon Sect circled aloft on the back of a storm wyvern. Spreading his arms wide, he revealed a monstrous head beneath his cowl—half-man, half-dragon, covered in scales.
"Children of Tiamat, the hour to prove your loyalty has arrived! Go, crush those pathetic rebels, and let them wail beneath the shadow of the dragons!"
His voice was impassioned and resonant. In tandem with his cry, the storm clouds churned relentlessly, spreading rapidly across the sky to form colossal, hideous draconic visages.
"For the great Immortal Queen!"
"For Tiamat!"
"The mortal realms will perish, and great dragons shall rule the world!"
Their expressions fanatical, the cultists brandished their weapons from the backs of dragonbeasts, howling at the top of their lungs.
Crisscrossing arcs of lightning coiled around Jude. Looking across the rift toward the allied forces, he raised his dragon-headed scepter, furious sparks bursting from his eyes. His voice rolled like overlapping thunderclaps, heavy with crushing pressure.
"Vile wretches! You stole the power of Her Majesty the Dragon Queen, yet dare dream of halting Her descent!"
"In the name of the great Mother of Evil Dragons, I grant you destruction—"
*Bang!*
A sharp crack echoed across the rift. An imperial sniper held a heavy rifle with a bore comparable to an autocannon, wisps of gray smoke curling from its muzzle.
An explosive round streaked toward the archbishop's chest at unimaginable speed, intercepted by a triggered protective ward.
Though the magic blocked and repelled most of the impact, the sheer kinetic energy still threw Jude off balance, nearly knocking him off the storm wyvern's back.
Seeing this, a military researcher watching through binoculars in the distance shook his head and sighed. "Spell penetration is still lacking. Still room for improvement..."
On a high ridge north of the Locke Great Rift Valley, Duoluo raised a megaphone and jeered mercilessly, "Fool! If I were you, I wouldn't stand there spouting grand speeches before the Empire's finest troops."
To be humiliated so wretchedly before countless believers was more than Jude could bear. His eyes bugged with rage, fury impossible to restrain, crisscrossing electrical arcs flaring in his pupils.
He swung the dragon-headed scepter through the air, channeling the terrifying divine power granted by the Queen of Chromatic Dragons to summon a fearsome thunderstorm. The archbishop roared, "Shameless, vile Imperials! Attack! Charge! Tear them to pieces!"
Before his words had faded, the wave of evil dragonspawn and Cult of the Dragon zealots surged forward, earth-shaking war cries piercing straight into the clouds.
Across the rift, in the allied positions, imperial ogre gunners were deftly loading shells and calibrating their sights with remarkable efficiency.
Upon a raised platform, a dragonblood hobgoblin waved his hand nonchalantly and barked a cold order: "All batteries, hear my command—fire!"
In an instant, the earth trembled as ten thousand cannons thundered in unison!
Countless shells trailing thick smoke and fire burst from thousands upon thousands of dark muzzles, crisscrossing high in the air to weave an all-encompassing net that seemed poised to envelop everything in the vanguard.
The shells traced near-perfect parabolas across the deep chasm, crashing down into the ranks of the Cult of the Dragon.
*Boom!*
*Boom! Boom!*
Layer upon layer of explosions detonated in rapid succession. Fireballs blossomed across the sea of bluespawn and cultists, plumes of dirt erupting into the sky as massive shockwaves tore outwards.
Piercing howls of agony mingled with the deafening thunder. Charred corpses and severed limbs were blown into the air; a single barrage had inflicted thousands of casualties.
Nor did the Empire possess only artillery meant for ground targets. Within distant trenches, rows of anti-aircraft guns raised their barrels, pumping out volleys of shrapnel shells.
*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*
Dense concussions rang through the sky as countless rounds hurtled toward the chromatic dragons, storm wyverns, and manticores aloft, whipping up a terrifying storm of metal.
These shells had been meticulously developed by the Imperial Weapons Research Institute with immense penetrating power specifically designed to combat scaled monstrosities. In live tests, they could even punch through the scales of a young green dragon—their firepower was nothing short of horrific.
A near-adult blue dragon had just been flaunting his might, roaring toward the allied lines and boasting he would turn those silver moon elves into rations.
The next moment, imperial shells hammered into him like a furious squall. In an instant, shattered scales scattered in every direction as blooms of blood erupted across the blue dragon's body.
He roared in bewilderment, "How is this possible?! How could something like this harm me?! Our dragon scales are tougher than shields!"
Seeing the humans operating the anti-aircraft guns in the distance, the blue dragon went mad with rage. He dove furiously toward them, arcs of electricity bursting from his eyes. "Lowly ants! To dare use such dirty tricks—"
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
The brash young blue dragon thought his roar would send the human soldiers trembling in terror, never imagining he would be met only with even fiercer anti-aircraft fire.
Beneath the dense, crisscrossing web of firepower, the blue dragon's flesh was riddled with bleeding holes, his wings shredded to tatters that fluttered uselessly in the wind.
Finally, with a miserable wail, the bleeding dragon tumbled helplessly from the sky, plunging into the abyss of the Locke Great Rift Valley. A dull thud echoed from the depths, followed by complete silence.
This was the first true dragon to die in this war, but it would certainly not be the last.
"Marshal Duoluo, only we of the metallic dragon race can withstand our evil kin."
"No. Wait a bit longer. The Empire's offensive has not ended."
"Ordinary weapons cannot hurt those evil dragons. If they cross the Locke Great Rift Valley—" Dionysius had been arguing adamantly with the hobgoblin.
Yet when he turned his head, he saw a young red dragon wobbling precariously over the rift. Under the dense flak, the beast could not maintain balance at all and plunged howling into the chasm depths.
Shock washed over the ancient gold dragon's face. The firepower of these weapons was truly terrifying—they could actually shatter dragon scales!
Beside him, Duoluo folded his arms and remarked with a half-smile, "I told you, this terrain favors the imperial army best. If they wish to cross the gorge, they must pay a grievous price."
Dionysius gave a slight nod, but not a shred of joy showed on his face. A faint, barely perceptible flicker of worry gleamed in his amber eyes.
The Cinder Empire was their ally now, but the future was uncertain.
The scales of chromatic dragons shattered before imperial artillery; if metallic dragons ever stood in opposition to the Empire, what fate would await them?
In Dionysius's eyes, Duoluo was not merely slaughtering the enemy; he was putting on a display of force for him—or more accurately, for the metallic dragons, and even for Lord Bahamut behind them.
Through this war, that Emperor meant to send a clear message: the Empire had the strength and resolve to stand against dragons.
"Watch out for those strange iron spheres! Don't let them hit you!"
"Damn Imperials!"
The chromatic dragons circled high above, but with the fall of their kin fresh in their minds, none dared dive into the fray.
Jude gritted his teeth. "Enough! This cannot continue! Destroy those bizarre weapons at once!"
"For the great Mother of Evil Dragons! Destroy the mortal world with thunder and lightning—" Dragon priests held up their scepters, dark clouds spreading wildly until they hovered above the allied lines, pregnant with colossal lightning.
*Boom!*
Deafening thunder resounded through the clouds as lightning bolts as thick as bowls crashed down, instantly obliterating several heavy cannons and reducing over a dozen imperial artillerymen to ash.
Across the rift, a pack of burly, bloated bluespawn growled low and bowed their heads, arcs of lightning coiling around their massive horns.
*Boom!*
Bolts erupted from their horn tips, striking across to the opposite bank. Over a hundred fully armored imperial soldiers were swallowed by the lightning, reduced to charred wreckage.
The Cult of the Dragon's counterattack had indeed inflicted losses on the imperial legions, but compared to the casualties caused by the Empire's blanket bombardment, it was scarcely worth mentioning.
From the moment the battle began, every minute—every second—evil dragonspawn and cultists perished under the merciless imperial barrage.
"Tiamat above!"
"How in the world are those Imperials doing this?!"
Duoluo knew that as long as the Cult of the Dragon's followers did not cross the rift, the imperial army's long-range firepower would grant them an absolute advantage.
If the enemy attempted a forced crossing, they would inevitably suffer catastrophic casualties.
This was why Duoluo, despite being the nominal "attacker," had chosen a natural choke point easily defended and perilous to assault as the primary battlefield.
He knew that under relentless imperial bombardment, the Cult of the Dragon would either have to retreat or be forced into becoming the true attacker.
Sure enough, after a moment's thought, Jude waved his dragon-headed scepter and barked with a darkened face, "In that case, cross the rift and engage those damned allies in close quarters! Draconic might shall crush those fragile ants!"
At his command, over a dozen dragon priests and shamans chanted incantations and cast their spells. The earth trembled violently. Amid spraying earth, rock, and dust, stone erupted upward from the edge of the chasm.
Like massive dragons formed of piled rock, they surged toward the opposite bank, creating several colossal bridges that linked the northern and southern rims.
Holding their dragon-skull shields high and brandishing electrified blades, the bluespawn godslayers snarled with fury, launching a ferocious charge toward the allied lines on the other side.
"Lowly mongrels!"
"Tremble before the might of the Mother Goddess!"
As shock heavy infantry, the bluespawn godslayers were impeccable. Clad in scale armor, their towering frames ate up four to five meters in a single stride. They charged at terrifying speed; once inside an enemy position, they could butcher at will and tear through defensive lines.
Unfortunately for them, they faced imperial defenders. Fortifications had long been established across the rift, sandbags stacked row upon row, housing over a hundred state-of-the-art machine guns aimed squarely at the stone bridges.
"Open fire!"
*Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!*
Blistering gunfire erupted. A torrential rain of bullets poured from the muzzles, knitting an intersecting web of fire midair. This terrifying storm of metal engulfed the bluespawn in an instant.
The bone shields of the bluespawn godslayers shattered, and their bodies were riddled with bullets. Before they could even roar, they crashed down and plummeted from the stone bridges alongside loose rubble.
"Kill them all! For the Empire!"
"Keep firing!"
"Don't let these Imperials scare you! They can't keep this up forever! Forward! Charge!!"
"Once we enter melee, those fragile humans will be torn to shreds, and you will be heroes of Her Majesty Tiamat!"
Countless cultists and bluespawn surged onto the stone bridges, only to be cut down by the Empire's terrifying firepower, tumbling one after another into the dark abyss.
In mere moments, the bottom of the rift was piled high with mounds of corpses from the Cult of the Dragon, warm blood gathering into gurgling streams.
Watching his soldiers plummet without pause, Jude shouted himself hoarse:
"Do not waver! Charge! You are warriors chosen by Her Majesty the Dragon Queen! Even in death, your souls will ascend to the divine realm and revel in boundless bliss!"
With expressions of suicidal zeal, cultists brandished their swords and blades, surging onto the stone bridges in relentless waves to charge the enemy fortifications.
As for the evil dragonspawn—born war machines created by Tiamat—they were naturally cruel, bloodthirsty, and devoid of fear, charging forward with savage roars and gleaming, murderous eyes.
Yet their numbers were simply overwhelming. Even with hundreds of machine guns weaving an interlocking web of fire, not all could be slain. The dragonspawn in the rear used their fallen brethren as shields, inching ever closer to the northern rim of the rift.
Many bluespawn clung to the sides and undersides of the bridges, scuttling forward swiftly to evade the gunfire.
"Marshal Duoluo, they are about to reach this side. Let us Seleucians fight them," Adrian said, drawing his longsword and volunteering for the fray.
Duoluo shook his head once more, merely answering, "Not yet. We can still bleed the Cult of the Dragon of much more strength."
Adrian looked toward the stone bridges. Swarms of bluespawn were crawling across them, turning the bridges almost solid blue. There were hundreds at least, surging toward the northern bank like a burst dam.
Yet right at that moment, an earth-shattering boom erupted.
*Boom!*
Explosive fire engulfed the bluespawn. The midsection of the stone bridge was blasted apart, and the entire structure collapsed with a deafening crash, carrying countless howling monsters and tons of rock tumbling into the abyss below.
Chapter 813