Chapter 71: Count Terran |
"Damn it, how could something like this happen here?"
Inside an inn, over a dozen armored human soldiers pressed against the door, while a powerful knight, whose challenge rating had even reached level 11, stood guard nearby with his sword drawn, secretly observing everything outside.
Through the windows, they could see large numbers of Dwarven soldiers being taken prisoner by Frogmen, lizardmen, and kobolds, tied with ropes and escorted onto ships. They could also see, in the distance, the Dwarven military camp engulfed in raging fires, which made their hearts sink into further turmoil, leaving them at a loss for words.
The man surrounded by these armored soldiers and the silver-armored knight was a middle-aged man.
A deep gray mink-collared cloak wrapped around his tall and slender figure. His brow bones were sharp like carved blades, a silver wolf brooch glittered at his collar, and the tense lines of his jaw exuded the weary authority unique to nobility.
He was a vassal of the Duke of Bosha, Count Terran from Muye Castle in the Duchy of Bosha.
The Terran family rose to prominence through commerce. During the civil war in the Kingdom of Drentland years ago, when Duke Bernard rebelled and besieged the royal capital for three long years, the capital faced a severe food shortage. At that time, a smuggler secretly transported grain into the capital through underground passages, preventing the city from descending into cannibalism.
Later, Duke Bernard was assassinated by the kingdom's greatest knight, 'Iron Bull' Henry, and the civil war subsided. That small-time smuggler subsequently prospered, was enfeoffed as a Count by King Byron III, and transferred to serve under the Duke of Bosha.
Over two hundred years have passed since then, and because the Terran family excelled at smuggling and engaged in frequent trade, Count Terran became one of the wealthiest counts in the Duchy of Bosha.
But he never imagined he would, by a strange twist of fate, stumble into such an event.
A dragon attack.
Count Terran looked towards the renowned Paragon knight Dennis, who had served his family for twenty years in the Duchy of Bosha, and asked quietly, "Dennis, if these evil dragons' minions discover us, can you fight your way out with me?"
Upon hearing this, Dennis tightened his grip on his sword hilt, but his expression was clearly bitter. "My lord, it would be very difficult... You only brought about twenty guards on this trip, while the enemy's minions are numerous. To have completely annihilated the Dwarven legion, they must number at least three thousand or more. More importantly, there are the dragons. Just from what I've seen, there are Red Dragons, Black Dragons, and a White Dragon. Although judging by their size, they are at most in the Juvenile Dragon stage, but Juvenile Dragons... are still very difficult to deal with."
If given some time to prepare, Dennis was quite confident he could kill a White Dragon or even a Black Dragon that was in the Young Dragon or early Juvenile Dragon stage.
But now, there wasn't just one evil dragon; there was even a Red Dragon as well.
Moreover, Dennis had a vague feeling that the attacking evil dragons weren't limited to just these three.
Further away, there were other explosions.
They were numerous. Once engaged in combat with these evil dragons...
The consequences would be unthinkable!
Even though he had transcended the level of ordinary mortals and become a true Paragon of heroes, he still could not contend with a superior race like dragons, even if these dragons were merely in the Young Dragon or Juvenile Dragon stage.
Hearing Dennis's words, Count Terran's heart sank.
This time, could it be that...
Count Terran pressed tightly against the inn's cold wall, cold sweat soaking the collar of his mink cloak.
Outside the window, the wails of the Dwarves lingered incessantly. As he watched the Dwarven prisoners being escorted in the distance, his heart was also filled with immense irritation.
Knight Dennis gripped his sword hilt tightly, his expression grave as he whispered, "My lord, if you require it, we could perhaps pretend to be captured, wait for those five evil dragons to leave, and then break out later..."
Before he could finish his sentence, the sky suddenly darkened.
Five dragon shadows that blotted out the sky swept over the docks.
Xia'er was in the center, with Tyrone and Saga on her left, and Tina and Disos on her right.
The hurricane-force winds stirred up by their dragon wings whipped up dust and smoke, their shadows fell upon the earth like giant curtains, and their draconic aura pressed down with tangible force, causing the wooden windows of the inn to creak and groan.
Count Terran instinctively took half a step back. Dennis's muscles tensed, and the tip of his sword trembled slightly.
And at that very moment, Xia'er also sensed something. Her massive head tilted slightly, her dragon pupils sweeping over the ruined streets and alleys like searchlights.
Just as her gaze passed over the half-open window of the inn, Xia'er suddenly paused.
The silhouette of the noble in the deep gray mink cloak and the silver-armored knight stood out starkly amidst the chaos.
[Challenge Rating: Level 11.]
The level of that silver-armored knight gave Xia'er a momentary pause.
But after seeing the noble in the deep gray mink cloak, understanding dawned in her heart.
The next second, Xia'er dove down without the slightest hesitation, her wings tucked in like arrows.
Her emerald-green body tore through the air currents and crashed down onto the scorched black stone slabs of the plaza with a thunderous impact that shook the ground.
Amidst the flying debris, Xia'er stood tall, her Dragon Scales gleaming with a cold light amidst the smoke.
The Frogmen, lizardmen, and kobolds who had been dragging the Dwarven prisoners around instantly froze, then prostrated themselves like a receding tide, pressing their foreheads to the ground, hissing and shouting, "Master!"
The roar of voices was like thunder, drowning out Count Terran's last shred of hope.
Xia'er's gaze locked onto the trembling window. "Human noble, come out and meet me."
The heavy wooden door of the inn slowly creaked open. Count Terran took a deep breath and walked out, surrounded by Knight Dennis and over a dozen pale-faced soldiers gripping their weapons tightly.
In the plaza, the emerald dragon Xia'er stood like a mountain, her draconic aura pressing down with such tangible force it was hard to breathe.
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, Count Terran straightened his slightly disheveled deep gray mink-collared cloak. Facing those enormous dragon pupils, he performed a flawless noble salute, his voice striving to remain steady:
"I salute you, honorable true dragon. I am William Terran, Count of Muye Castle, enfeoffed under the Duke of Bosha. My visit to Eastern Sea Port this time is solely to assess trade routes and discuss commerce. I have absolutely no intention of participating in any conflict between the Dwarven Kingdom and yourself. We are merely unfortunate merchants stranded here, and we hold your mighty power in deep awe."
Xia'er's massive head lowered slightly. "Count Terran, your courtesy is received."
"My descent upon Eastern Sea Port has but one objective: the Dwarven Kingdom's Seventeenth Legion, and their Legion Commander, Hogg! The wrath of the dragonflight is poured only upon those who dare challenge draconic majesty. As for humans, as long as you do not actively point your weapons at my kin, you are not targets of my aggression."
After a brief pause, Xia'er's gaze swept over the tense human soldiers. "Admittedly, while clearing the Dwarven camp area, a few humans, blinded by greed or misled by the Dwarves, who attempted to attack my servants were executed on the spot. However, the vast majority of sensible individuals like yourself remain unharmed. My kin have received strict orders not to plunder human shops, not to burn civilian dwellings. The humans of this city are not my enemies."
The heavy stone in Count Terran's heart eased slightly, but Xia'er's next words shocked him greatly.
"Therefore."
Xia'er's voice took on a tone that was almost sincere. "I have decided to temporarily transfer the administrative authority over Eastern Sea Port to you, Count Terran."