"It's coming out!" Dylan narrowed his eyes and spoke coldly.
"Boom!" As earth and stone splattered, a massive dragon corpse was pulled out.
"Good heavens! This big? A fully grown silver dragon!" Rynar exclaimed in shock.
What appeared before them was a silver dragon's body stretching a hundred meters long.
The corpse was lifelike, and even from dozens of meters away, Rynar could feel the overwhelming dragon might pressing down on him, nearly forcing him to his knees.
"Damn! I can't move! This dragon's aura... why is it so... terrifying!"
Rynar raised a hand to shield himself as he tried to step forward, but the immense pressure of the dragon's might forced him back as if it were a tangible force.
"Your Highness! Draw your sword!" Caslow noticed Rynar's predicament and urgently reminded him.
Rynar's Dragon Slayer Sword had a suppressive effect on dragon-kind. As one of the most widespread epic-tier weapons, every Dragon Slayer Sword had once slain a true dragon.
Because of this, its wielder would not be affected by dragon might once the sword was drawn.
"Clang! Roar!" As the sword left its scabbard, a deep dragon's roar resonated from its trembling blade.
"By the Dragon God! What could have done this? What could have reduced a silver dragon to this state?"
Rynar, finally free from the suppression, was immediately struck by the scene before him.
The enormous dragon's body was covered in horrifying wounds so deep that bone was visible.
Countless fine cuts had shredded the silver dragon into pieces, and silver-red dragon blood hovered in the air, slowly flowing.
Broken dragon scales flickered intermittently, showing that even in death, the silver dragon maintained a connection to the power of space.
Rynar was utterly shaken by this sight. He couldn't comprehend what could have so brutally slain a fully grown silver dragon, leaving it a mangled mess of flesh and blood!
"Damn it!" Caslow, who had moved to the other side of the dragon, suddenly roared. His eyes turned bloodshot, veins bulging grotesquely on his face as rage consumed him.
"What's wrong?" Dylan floated over, puzzled.
"This is... a human Dragon Marshal!" Caslow pointed in anguish at the shattered dragon saddle, which had been torn apart when the silver dragon revealed its true form.
Since a dragon's immense body was unsuitable for aerial combat, all dragon mounts typically controlled their size to around twenty meters.
However, once engaged in melee combat, a dragon would inevitably reveal its true form.
At that moment, its hundred-meter-long body would make it clear to its enemies how foolish it was to engage a dragon in close combat.
During such moments, most dragon saddles would snap and fall away.
"A dragon saddle…" Dylan's expression changed. What kind of warrior could ride a silver dragon?
In the history of the Zaltarion Empire, there had been fewer than ten riders of golden and silver holy dragons.
And now, here lay the remains of a fallen silver dragon knight... Dylan dared not even imagine it. What could possibly have brought down a nearly invincible silver dragon knight?
"Hunting a silver dragon knight? That's impossible!" Rynar cried out in horror.
In terms of difficulty, silver dragons ranked second to none—no creature in the world would dare claim first place.
Even a full-attribute golden dragon, known for its mastery over space, couldn't match a silver dragon in escape capabilities. If a silver dragon wanted to flee… no one could stop it!
"This is beyond savage. To kill a silver dragon… what kind of power could prevent even a silver dragon from escaping?"
Rynar was utterly shaken, unable to fathom the horrors of the war that took place three thousand years ago—a war that not only represented the peak of the allied forces' strength but also the pinnacle of darkness led by Sauron.
"Our ancestors… sigh!" Caslow sighed as he gazed at the long-dead silver dragon.
As a dragon knight, Caslow could deeply feel the unyielding battle spirit lingering here!
This place buried a silver dragon knight—a shining legacy of humanity's past glory. It was also the resting place of the indomitable spirit of human knights.
"Let us carry on your will…" Rynar bowed deeply.
Whatever had happened here three thousand years ago, Rynar was certain that a Dragon Marshal who rode a silver dragon must have been a righteous knight, for silver dragons were the enforcers of the dragon race, representing justice and order.
"Roar!" A deafening, sorrowful dragon's cry echoed through the heavens and earth. The wind dragon Kalador roared in grief so profound that even the hardest of hearts could feel it.
Without Caslow's summoning, Kalador had emerged from the dragon flute on its own.
"Caslow! Who was it?! Who killed our kin?! Who dared slay the silver dragon enforcer?! I will crush them! Those despicable vermin dared to attack the silver dragons!" Kalador roared in fury.
It was clear from his reaction how revered the silver dragon lineage was among dragons. In truth, silver dragons were rare in Middle-earth; to find even a few dozen was considered fortunate. Most of the time, their numbers barely hovered around twenty to thirty.
"Why!" A mesmerizing figure suddenly appeared.
Rynar's head instantly throbbed. Why was there a fairy dragon here too?
"Blue Sprite? How did you get here?" Rynar asked curiously, looking at the fairy dragon, still sealed by Dylan.
"Why… did you die here…? Tell me…" Blue Sprite ignored Rynar completely and slowly walked toward the silver dragon's corpse.
"Wait! Your Highness! Don't go near! That's a fairy dragon's Death Call… she's summoning the silver dragon's spirit!" As a dragon knight, Caslow had inherited part of the dragons' knowledge and immediately recognized what the fairy dragon was doing.
"Roar!" A heavy dragon form suddenly descended from the sky, and an ice-blue dragon silhouette emerged from the mist.
"Cough, cough! Skyla! What the hell are you doing? What's going on?!" A voice came from within the haze—it was Elandor.
"By the Goddess!" Elandor shrieked, each exclamation louder than the last as he noticed the dead silver dragon.
"Roar!" Three true dragons, large and small, let out a mournful cry together, their sorrowful wails heartbreaking.
"Did… did someone slay a dragon?" Elandor cautiously eyed Rynar and the others, drawing his elven scimitar, his face pale with fear. Living for over three thousand years, Elandor understood well the silver dragons' exalted status—they were a royal lineage!
"No! This was the Dragon Marshal and his steed who perished during the Last Alliance War," Rynar sighed.
"A human Dragon Marshal?" Elandor's expression twisted in astonishment. How had he never known such a terrifying human existed? A sixth-tier Dragon Marshal! A warrior capable of taking on three elven kings single-handedly—yet he had fallen? Who could have done this?
"Someone actually killed a silver dragon knight? That's impossible!" Elandor shouted in shock. Dragged here by his dragon, he had never expected to witness such an explosive revelation. If this had happened on Dragon Isle… my god… Elandor had no doubt that dragons would wage a world-ending war for vengeance—even the gods would have to step aside!
"Someone has slain a silver dragon! The dragons will not let this go!" The Star Dragon Skyla roared viciously.
"They will pay for this! The dragons' vengeance is beyond their comprehension!" Wind Dragon Kalador stood before the corpse, speaking calmly, yet his hidden wrath was unmistakable.
"Let me listen to his soul… he will give us the answers!" The fairy dragon Blue Sprite's delicate frame trembled. Dylan's face suddenly changed—the seal had been broken…
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