Chapter 1: Reunion
A storm raged, sweeping across the land like the most brutal of giants, causing trees to tremble and churning the southern sea into waves.
In the distant southern seas, on the Gray Island of Eda, the Seven Sacred Mountains, usually calm due to divine ritual arrays, were now shrouded in cold rain. Amidst crisscrossing thunderbolts, one could hear dragon roars and the sounds of battle echoing from the island.
Leaning on his staff, Pastor Gwara wiped the blood trickling down his forehead. He kicked aside the shattered head of a wyvern at his feet, then propped himself against a pillar of the temple, breathing heavily.
The taste of iron filled his mouth as the battle came to a temporary halt.
Before this seaside temple near the island's edge lay scattered fragments of frenzied dragon corpses, mixed with some broken puppet parts. The stench of blood mingled with the rotting smell of dragon bodies, creating an indescribable odor—much like the specialty canned herring from Magel Island in the Western Mountains. An ordinary person would gag just from one whiff.
But the sturdy pastor paid no attention to the smell.
He was long accustomed to the stench of corpses.
Ever since the frenzied dragons had besieged the Sacred Mountain, such battles had become frequent. The wyverns couldn't breach the temple's divine defenses, and the few clergy couldn't truly defeat the numerous dragon beasts. Both sides engaged in scattered yet fierce skirmishes across every corner of the island, leaving behind a mountain of corpses.
Gray Island was now littered with remains—dragon wings and limbs scattered about, torn-open dragon bodies and heads strewn everywhere, turning the once-holy sanctuary into a slum butcher shop, reeking of cheap rotting meat.
After recovering some energy, Gwara's gaze sharpened. He surveyed the corpses before the temple, then looked up at the sky—blood-soaked wyverns, led by several wounded powerful dragons, were screeching as they fled into the sky. Behind them trailed streams of divine magic.
The fourth wave of the frenzied dragons' assault today had failed once again, yet the pastor felt no joy in his heart—only immense heaviness.
The wyverns besieging the Sacred Mountain numbered a full hundred thousand. Even if only less than a thousand of them were powerful, intelligent five-colored dragons, that was still an incredibly terrifying force. If they gathered their full strength, they could level the entire southern land, leaving only those forces with legendary experts to survive. The reason they currently held the upper hand was merely that these frenzied dragons were sacrificial pawns meant to drain their energy, not the enemy's true main force.
Gwara was no stranger to such defensive wars. He had also participated in the last battle when deep-sea behemoths had raided the Sacred Mountain, even using divine magic to kill a ten-armed giant octopus.
But this time, the pastor felt for the first time that the Sacred Mountain might lose.
"Gwara, how many puppet guards are left?"
From inside the temple came the weary voice of a colleague, mixed with the chanting of mid-rank clergy maintaining the ritual. The sturdy pastor, lost in thought, snapped back to reality and shouted in reply, "None left. A blue dragon was mixed in with the frenzied dragons earlier. To take its head, we used up every last divine puppet."
"Damn it, you need to conserve them! Those puppets are premium Silver-rank creations!" came an angry rebuke from inside the temple, but the voice then sighed. "Never mind. The ritual is almost over. We can abandon this dangerous seaside temple and fall back to the Central Temple District."
What kind of ritual required all thirteen temples at the western seaside harbor to activate simultaneously? Even continuing under such dangerous circumstances?
Gwara swallowed the question. He wasn't the type to question orders. Though the instructions from the Central Temple District were strange, they clergy only needed to obey—after all, to ensure the mission's success, the Central Temple had dispatched seventeen Gold-rank pastors and paladins, twice that number of mid-rank clergy, and several hundred steel puppet guards. Such force was enough to hold two defensive lines and crush several frenzied dragon squads led by true dragons.
And all this was just to ensure the smooth completion of a ritual that required half an hour.
Suddenly, lights flickered in the sky, followed by four thin red beams of light. These beams pierced through the dark clouds, then erupted in violent explosions. The blazing flames swept away the mist, sending the bodies of over a hundred dragon beasts tumbling down.
Gwara glanced at where the red light had originated and nodded in approval.
That was firepower from an imperial reinforcement—an airship.
Over a dozen days ago, a flying steel warship had broken through the frenzied dragons' blockade and arrived above the Sacred Mountain. It was said this ship, named the Gale, was aid obtained by the Church through a trade with the Northern Empire. Initially, the pastor had held some prejudice against this seemingly fragile steel vessel, and was dissatisfied with the stingy empire for sending only one ship. But soon, during the subsequent defensive battles, that rigid impression was shattered by the ship's fierce cannon fire.
This airship indeed had little resistance against surprise attacks by powerful individuals, but its suppression of ordinary frenzied wyverns below Gold-rank was formidable. One ship alone matched the combined output of ten Gold-rank pastors, its firepower far exceeding anyone's imagination. Its forty alchemical cannons rained down fire, instantly killing over a dozen wyverns.
Apart from needing to cool down after fighting at full power for over ten minutes, it had almost no flaws.
Thanks to this ship and the puppet guards, the Sacred Mountain had suffered no major casualties so far. Everyone was tired, but their foundation remained intact.
Cold rain mixed with the chill wind fell, dispersing the stench around the temple. Gwara, guarding his colleagues as they conducted the ritual, suddenly sensed something amiss.
Gray Island of Eda, where the Sacred Mountain stood, was itself an enormous divine ritual array. It could control the weather over nearly a thousand square kilometers, calming storms. But now, the clouds and rain shrouding the Sacred Mountain were unnatural magical weather stirred up by the five-colored dragon clan to facilitate their invasion. Once the invasion ended, it should temporarily stop.
But... why hadn't it stopped yet?
"Fifth wave! Prepare to engage!" came a vigorous shout from another nearby temple. "The ritual is almost complete! Hold out for these last few seconds!"
"Damn it!" Hearing the dragon roars from the sky, Gwara forced himself to focus. He raised his staff, looking up at the rapidly passing shadows in the sky. White specks of light began to float around the pastor as he roared, "Is there no end to this?!"
The temple, stained with countless dragon blood, also began to glow. The divine arrays inscribed within it resonated with the pastor's holy light, forming translucent barriers.
From the dense clouds, countless frenzied wyverns emerged, with several true dragons mixed among them, commanding these mindless dragon beasts. Most of the beasts charged toward the towering Sacred Mountain and the surrounding Central Temple District, but a small portion scattered, heading for the scattered temples across the island.
Hundreds of frenzied wyverns swarmed toward the temple Gwara was guarding. The sturdy pastor's brows shot up as he planted his staff on the ground, sending out a ring-shaped holy light array.
Behind him, chants involving space and time echoed. An inexplicable power emanated from the thirteen temples, outlining a massive, deep-blue door in the sky above the western shore.
But Gwara had no time to look at the door above him. All his attention was fixed on the ferocious giant lizards before him. The pastor solemnly controlled the temple's divine array, preparing to withstand the impact.
But the expected impact never came.
The deep-blue door completed just as the wyverns dove into their charge. And then, a massive ark, nearly two hundred meters long, descended from the sky.
—Boom!!!!
The battered, damaged ark fell from a height of several dozen meters to the ground. The impact of its terrifying weight caused the earth to ripple like water. Even the frenzied wyverns were startled into long screeches, turning back to the sky to prepare for another charge.
"By the Seven Gods, what is—"
The usually fearless Pastor Gwara gasped in shock. He had no idea what the ritual he was guarding was for, so he was completely unprepared for the ark falling from the sky—especially since the ark carried a trace of abyssal aura, making the pastor deeply uncomfortable.
The Sacred Mountain's innate purification ability easily dispelled the residual abyssal aura on the ark. The order fluctuations from the blazing spark at its top also made Gwara realize that this was a Church vessel. Quick-witted, he immediately understood that the ritual they had been performing was likely to summon this ark back to the Sacred Mountain.
But now was not the time to think about that. Just as the pastor's attention was drawn to the ark, causing him to lose focus for a moment, a powerful mutated wyvern seized the opportunity. It dove from the sky, its speed breaking the sound barrier in an instant, accompanied by a sharp sonic boom.
A wyvern's dive charge was one of their hardest-to-defend attacks. Their massive bodies, over ten meters long, carried enormous mass, enough to break through most shields. Even a Gold-rank warrior had to be careful not to be knocked off balance. With a crisp sound like breaking glass, the translucent barrier around the temple shattered, and the mutated wyvern charged straight at the barely reacting Gwara.
In the blink of an eye, the pastor's heart tightened. He knew he was in grave danger.
But a massive steel plate flew through the air, smashing the wyvern—which had already closed to within ten meters of Gwara—away. It then crashed into the temple wall nearby with a tremendous roar.
"...Huh?"
Blinking, the sturdy pastor shuddered. He widened his eyes, looking at where the steel plate had landed—the body of a mutated wyvern, now only half remaining, was still twitching. Half of its body had been crushed into a meat paste by the white steel plate, smeared against the wall. And the temple's sturdy wall, which had remained undamaged through countless battles, now had a large web of cracks centered on the impact point, with half the temple structure threatening to collapse.
In the air, over a hundred frenzied wyverns didn't take advantage of the broken barrier to continue their attack. Instead, they panicked and fled backward, as if facing something terrifying ahead. This was the first time Gwara had seen mindless dragon beasts show fear.
But those beasts didn't escape either. From the damaged ark, a black-red line of battle qi suddenly shot out. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but its speed was incredible. With a few flashes, most of the black dragons were bisected by this line, their blood-spurting bodies falling to the ground.
Additionally, pillars of holy light rose from the ark, annihilating the remaining wyverns. Noticing the anomaly in this direction, a large swarm of wyverns surged from the sky, including several led by true dragons. They flew rapidly toward the western part of the island, intending to clear out the scattered temples in the area.
But halfway there, the entire dragon swarm changed direction. They circled in the air, hesitant to attack. The leading true dragons exchanged glances in the sky. These intelligent beings all felt a chill at the same time.
And at that moment, a group of people emerged from the ark.
Two paladins, a nun, and at the lead, a black-haired, red-eyed warrior.
Joshua looked up at the sky, at the circling dragon swarm and the thunder tearing through the clouds. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A full-scale assault by the frenzied dragons? Isn't it too early for that?"
The distant sea typhoon hadn't risen yet, and the Sacred Mountain's divine array wasn't suppressed by nature. The five-colored dragon clan would have to be insane to besiege the impregnable Sacred Mountain at a time like this.
But the current situation was indeed dire. Standing on the ark, the warrior scanned his surroundings from his elevated position. Gray Island was littered with scattered frenzied dragon corpses and broken parts from numerous puppet guards.
The Church's puppet guards were powerful divine constructs. They had very low production costs, requiring only forged steel and a single ritual core to assemble automatically. These steel guards were usually humanoid, with mid-to-high Silver-rank strength, and they felt no pain or fear of death. Apart from the fact that they couldn't be mass-produced and had to be made individually by high-rank pastors, they had almost no flaws.
Now, just in the area Joshua could see, there were thousands of damaged puppet guards. That was equivalent to a year's supply for the Sacred Mountain. Without an order, the Church wouldn't produce so many puppets.
"The Sacred Mountain is engaged in probing skirmishes with the frenzied dragons."
Saya stepped forward. Golden light patterns appeared around her, forming a simple, sketch-like angelic image. A faint halo floated above the High Sister's head, gathering holy light power. "It seems we've returned at a bad time."
"No, isn't this perfect?"
Joshua exchanged glances with the two paladins beside him. He, Robzek, and Loranda all broke into wild grins. "Have you rested enough?"
"You just fought a full-power battle against Mandagar. We should be asking you that." The blonde paladin replied calmly. He had been unable to help the warrior in the battle against the Crystal Magic Dragon due to the brain-eating worm, and was now holding in a desire to vent. "Why don't you rest this time and let us deal with these flying insects?"
Without replying, the warrior casually swung his hand twice. Solidified battle qi killed several frenzied wyverns at a distance.
The next second, he leaped straight into the sky.
Swish!
In an instant, bursts of blood mist erupted from the frenzied dragon swarm that had been circling above the temple. Wyverns were shattered by an invisible force, leaving not even remnants to scatter in the wind.
Only the few true dragons mixed among the wyverns could see that it was a warrior moving at extreme speed through the air, killing frenzied dragons one after another.
"Ultimate!"
"An Ultimate-rank warrior!"
"What's going on? How did an Ultimate-rank warrior suddenly appear? Weren't all the human experts on the Sacred Mountain under tight surveillance? When did this person show up?!"
What completely broke them was the second and third holy flashes. Robzek and Loranda shot into the sky one after another, beginning a massacre of the dragon swarm. Saya came to the temple's side, taking control of the divine array from the stunned Gwara, and began weaving massive divine magic formations.
"Two Ultimates! Retreat quickly!""This is a trap!""We need to go back for reinforcements!"
The chaotic dragon swarm, under the command of the true dragons, turned in panic to flee. These terrified dragons flew at top speed, trying to escape this horrifying area as fast as possible.
But before they could get far, two streaks of cold light flashed from the direction of the Sacred Mountain, flying toward the western seaside temple.
In the blink of an eye, the cold light pierced through two dragons in midair, exploding into clouds of blood mist. Then they brushed past Joshua's side and embedded themselves in the ground.
Somewhat startled, the warrior didn't continue chasing the fleeing wyverns. He looked down at where the light had fallen. After staring at them for a moment, he smiled.
He landed and walked toward the two streaks of cold light.
A greatsword and a giant axe—two weapons so massive that ordinary people couldn't lift them—were embedded in the sturdy stone path of the temple, vibrating slightly, as if calling to their master.
"Slaughtering the weak isn't the kind of battle I enjoy. This kind of killing is always monotonous."
Stepping forward, he lifted the greatsword and giant axe, gripping the sword hilt in his right hand and the axe handle in his left. He spoke softly to his long-unseen weapons. "Do you get bored?"
"Of course not."
The voices of a young boy and girl replied in perfect unison.
"As long as we're with our master, any battle is fine."