Dragons had been gone for over one thousand seven hundred years; to the vast majority of Ryanites, they were nothing more than stories from history.
These fiery-red dragons appeared only slightly smaller than the time dragon the Ryan Emperor had transformed into, making them terrifying behemoths to ordinary mortals.
And there was far more than just one dragon before them—there were dozens.
The Ryanites were frozen in shock, but the red dragons were not.
The moment they emerged, the red dragons dove in rapid succession, spewing draconic breath toward the Ryanites on the ground.
Terrifying sheets of flame crashed into the ranks, instantly setting countless Ryanite soldiers ablaze.
By the time the clerics of light snapped back to their senses, they scrambled to douse the flames with Create Rain, then cast divine spells to treat the burned soldiers.
Though their healing was prompt and casualties were kept low, they were visibly thrown into disarray.
The Ryanites' morale faltered. While no rout had broken out, they had zero experience fighting dragons; even their commanders were left bewildered, completely at a loss as to what orders to issue.
Every Ryanite looked instinctively toward their emperor—that massive time dragon.
When facing dragons, shouldn't another dragon handle them?
The power of the Dragon Tyrant Armament was formidable; surely he could...
Under everyone's watchful eyes, that massive time dragon was being mobbed by five red dragons.
Though the time dragon strained to unleash his temporal powers, they had almost no effect on the red dragons. Instead, the red dragons tore into him with their fangs, leaving him battered and bloodied all over.
Watching the battle from afar, Anbaixiu could not help but curse, "Idiot. Dragons easily live for millennia—what the hell is the point of rewinding a few decades?"
That was not how temporal power was meant to be used. If it were up to Anbaixiu, he wouldn't waste time rewinds on those dragons; he would use them on himself. Just the continuous teleportation granted by rewinding his own position would be enough to toy those red dragons to death.
A useless fool holding an artifact remained nothing more than a useless fool.
And this young emperor was far worse than just useless. As the red dragons chased and snapped at him, he looked as pitiful and terrified as a craven deserter.
A time dragon inherently enjoyed the effects of Haste and was far more nimble than these red dragons, yet he simply could not shake them off, swiftly ending up covered in wounds.
Driven into a corner, the young emperor did not summon any courage; instead, panic overtook him, and he plunged straight toward the Ryanites below.
Only one thought filled his mind now: get back to the army and let the Ryanite soldiers protect him.
The colossal time dragon dove recklessly toward the ground. Seeing His Majesty hurtling down, the Ryanite soldiers did not even dare to get out of the way, terrified of letting their emperor suffer a hard landing.
The result was that the time dragon slammed right into the auxiliary corps at the rear, his gigantic bulk crushing scores of Ryanite soldiers into bloody paste.
The carnage was more horrific than a red dragon's breath.
The time dragon plowed a gory trench through the ranks before the young emperor hastily reverted to human form. He cried out frantically, "Quick, protect me! Protect me!"
That single shriek dealt a devastating blow to the Ryanites' morale.
Your Majesty, you were the one who insisted on leading this campaign in person! You took absolute command, yet even with an artifact protecting you, you fought like this—what were the rest of them supposed to do?
Once such thoughts took root, their fighting spirit rapidly disintegrated.
It was only because this was Ryan's army; in any other force, having their commander crush a massive swathe of his own men would have shattered morale beyond repair.
Yet the red dragons in the sky were not about to let the Ryanites off so easily. Beyond continuing to spew fire, numerous small silhouettes began leaping from the dragons' backs.
Every one of them was clad in gleaming silver armor and brandished various weapons.
Remarkably agile, they leaped from heights of twenty or thirty meters, needing only a single roll upon impact before springing to their feet.
Once upright, they drew crossbows to loose a pair of bolts, then unsheathed their melee weapons and charged the Ryanites.
The Githyanki had arrived—this was their vanguard. The Githyanki were a martial society where every citizen was a warrior; the weak had long been weeded out in daily training, meaning any Githyanki capable of launching a planar expedition was an elite.
Keenly recognizing the auxiliary corps as the weak link, they skirted around the paladins and clerics of light, surging toward the auxiliaries who had already fallen into chaos. The Githyanki were ruthless killers of formidable combat prowess.
Arrows rained down, and swords flashed with deadly glints. The moment the Githyanki tore into the ranks, they began a wholesale slaughter.
Ryanite soldiers fell in droves. Just as the attackers were about to seize the screaming young emperor, the thundering rumble of hooves came from behind—the paladin corps had finally wheeled around and charged back.
Once again, colossal shields of Holy Light formed a protective wall in front, deflecting all the Githyanki crossbow bolts, before the armored cavalry plowed through, trampling many Githyanki into pulp.
That was how the cultists had been eradicated earlier, but this time was different: the charge resulted in casualties among the paladins.
Mounts and riders alike were heavily armored, bolstered by several magical enhancements, on top of the paladins' inherent strength. Despite holding so many advantages, the Githyanki counterattack still managed to kill quite a few paladins, showing just how terrifying these foes were.
At that moment, one of the clerics of light shouted at the top of his lungs, "In the name of the Dawn, destroy these enemies!"
With that cry, a colossal beam of Holy Light cascaded from the heavens, engulfing several red dragons and a vast swathe of Githyanki.
The dreadful energy scorched the enemies until dense smoke billowed from their flesh.
The ultimate divine spell of a cleric of light—Divine Intervention—could summon a glance from the Lord of the Dawn, allowing the deity to breach Ao's restrictions to deliver his followers from peril.
It was unknown which legendary cleric had cast the spell, but the effect of this Divine Intervention was extraordinarily potent. Wherever the Holy Light touched, even the red dragons were badly burned, fleeing with agonized wails. As for the Githyanki caught within, every last one was reduced to ash, leaving no survivors.
With a single strike, the red dragons were frightened into ascending high into the sky, no longer daring to breathe fire recklessly.
The Githyanki on the ground were also taken aback, quickly dispersing their formation, yet they were by no means intimidated by these losses.
When it came to fanaticism, not even the Ryanites could rival the Githyanki.
These hideous monsters with toad-like skin launched another assault against the Ryanites, forcing the paladins to spread out to meet them.
The Ryanites not only had to face the Githyanki head-on, but also had to remain constantly vigilant against the red dragons in the sky. This pincer attack from above and below left their battle line hanging by a thread.
Yet the most terrifying problem was not the formidable combat prowess of the Githyanki and the red dragons; it was that the massive spatial gateway was still spewing them forth in droves.
Over forty red dragons now filled the sky, and vast numbers of Githyanki leaped directly from the portal, deploying decelerating chutes on their backs only just before hitting the ground to cushion their descent.
In just a minute or two, the number of Githyanki surpassed ten thousand.
As an especially massive red dragon forced its way through the spatial gateway, a silver-armored Githyanki astride its back raised a right hand high.
A vast expanse of dark clouds gathered across the sky, pouring down corrosive rain that drenched the Ryanites below.
To cast such a wide-reaching Acid Rain spell, a legendary powerhouse among the Githyanki had clearly arrived.
If this continued, Ryan's army would be swallowed whole by the overwhelming tide of enemies.
Right at this critical juncture, a figure bathed in Holy Light materialized in the sky.
Like lightning, he flashed across the heavens. With every appearance, he landed atop a red dragon's head, driving his longsword straight through the beast's eye.
Agonized dragon roars echoed one after another as the aerial legion of red dragons fell into chaos once more.
Alan's voice boomed above the draconic roars, shouting down to the Ryanite army below: "Retreat! Fall back to Liuyan City and defend!"
Chapter 346