"Sigh..." The Star Dragon, Skyla, moved his slender body gently toward the remains of the Silver Dragon, Astel, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Leave it to me..." Skyla said painfully. As a close kin of the Silver Dragons, the Star Dragons wielded the power of the stars and space. He intended to seal the Silver Dragon's corpse and hide it in the void, ensuring that no one would disturb its eternal rest...
...
The gathered onlookers watched as immense draconic power surged from the dragons' bodies. With the assistance of the other two dragons, Skyla forcefully tore apart the space before him. It was as if a perfectly intact mirror had been shattered, revealing a dark, star-speckled void beyond.
"May your soul rest in the embrace of the Dragon God..." As the younger generation, this was the only thing Skyla could do for his fallen kin. He summoned his power and lifted the enormous body of the Silver Dragon, sending it into the void.
As the corpse gradually disappeared into the darkness, all the dragons shed sorrowful tears. The Silver Dragon, revered as a spirit of space, had been hunted down and slain.
The tragedy sent a chill down everyone's spine, evoking a shared sense of grief and loss.
"A Dragon Knight Marshal... what a pity." Rynar watched the scene in silence, his expression solemn. Dragon Knights who signed contracts with dragons often shared a portion of their lifespans.
This was one of the reasons Dragon Knights were so rare—after all, unless they found a true companion, no dragon would willingly share its longevity with another species.
And a human Dragon Knight Marshal could have safeguarded the fate of humankind for three thousand years!
"If Dragon Knight Marshal Osbaya hadn't died, perhaps the northern kingdom of Arno wouldn't have fallen. Soren wouldn't have been able to act so brazenly either..."
Through the fragmented memories of the Silver Dragon, Rynar had pieced together a crucial clue—those two had emerged from the North!
The North was a perilous land. Ever since the fall of the Northern Elven Kingdom and the Dwarven Kingdom, only scattered groups of humans, elves, and dwarves had managed to survive there.
The fact that no great kingdom had ever risen in the North since then was a testament to how powerful and rampant the dark forces in that region had become!
"Fate binds us all together. Perhaps this was his destiny. A knight's greatest glory is to die on the battlefield.
Dying of old age in bed is the most pitiful fate of all. We always sacrifice ourselves at our brightest moment—don't you agree, Your Highness?"
Reynard clapped Rynar on the shoulder with a smile.
"He died with honor! He did not betray his glory! If one day we are faced with certain doom, I too will fight to the last breath, just as he did.
Because we are the guardians of the last light of humanity!" Reynard laughed freely, his tone carefree but firm.
Rynar gazed at Reynard in silence. He knew that Reynard was speaking the truth. After all, he alone understood the grand and turbulent life of the Governor of the North in the game.
That man had fulfilled every promise he ever made—he had truly protected the last light of humanity!
"I believe in the courage and loyalty of all knights. But I also hope that they can live to see the dawn, rather than falling just before the break of day." Rynar looked in the direction of Riverguard, his gaze deep with emotion.
It had been nearly half a year since he arrived here. Unknowingly, he had transitioned from playing a game to truly becoming a part of this world...
"If one day, Zaltarion faces danger again, I will be the first to take up arms, just like the kings before me! Zaltarion's sword exists for Zaltarion's plow.
We long to forge swords into plowshares, but no one will trample upon our honor!" Rynar declared, gripping his sword firmly.
"As you wish, my king! The longswords of the Holy Radiance Knights shall clear every obstacle in your path!" Reynard placed a hand over his heart and bowed deeply in reverence.
...
"Is it over?" Rynar turned to Caslow, whose eyes were red with grief.
"Yes. The Blue Elves are assisting Lord Radir in restoring the land. The Silver Dragon elder's remains have already been sealed in the void by the Star Dragon.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he shall rest there for eternity," Caslow said, his voice choked with emotion.
This was the first time in his life that he had witnessed a human Dragon Knight, and not just any Dragon Knight—a Tier Six Dragon Knight Marshal! Yet, his fate had been so tragic.
To Caslow, Osbaya was an idol, and he was determined to follow in the footsteps of generations of human Dragon Knights—to protect the last light of humanity.
"Don't be so downcast. There's still a Balrog waiting for us in Moria. In a few days, we'll go and slay it together with the dwarves!"
Rynar grinned wickedly, patting Caslow on the shoulder to comfort him.
Rynar knew that both Caslow and his dragon needed an outlet for their fury. Fortunately, he happened to know of a suitable target.
Though not the same individual, it was still of the same kin… Using a Balrog's head to vent his Dragon Knight's anger? A fantastic idea!
If the slumbering Balrog of Moria had known of Rynar's plans, it would have likely cursed him on the spot: "Oh, you think you're so mighty, huh? You think you're righteous? And now you're using my head as a sacrifice?!"
"Oh, they like melee combat, don't they? Karldor just so happens to love a close fight! I'll make sure they understand what it means for a Dragon Knight to subdue with virtue!" Caslow's grin turned disturbingly cruel.
Rynar could already picture the scene in his mind, and for a brief moment, he actually felt sorry for the poor Balrog.
The creature probably could have lived another sixty years—at least until the Fellowship of the Ring arrived and Gandalf "embraced death and rebirth" by cutting it down.
But now… well, it probably only had a few weeks left at best.
"Dylan, what do we do with these Balrog Hearts?" Rynar tossed five fist-sized, condensed Balrog Hearts to Dylan.
These had shrunk in size after leaving their original bodies, appearing like translucent red gemstones, with battle aura swirling inside them like pulsing hearts.
"Although we didn't manage to get any materials from the Silver Dragon, these Balrog Hearts aren't bad at all!
At the very least, they'll be useful for crafting three pieces of epic-grade equipment," Dylan nodded, already pondering how to use them to strengthen their forces.
"Forge a dragon lance! Caslow needs a proper weapon." Rynar glanced at Caslow, who was still using an adamantine dragon lance, and instructed Dylan. As for a true artifact…
Rynar intended to keep those reserved for the kingdom.
Such treasures were meant to safeguard a nation, not be handed out lightly—unless Caslow achieved unparalleled feats, only then would Rynar grant him the legendary "Ten Thousand Dragons' Hymn."
"Got it. But it'll take some time. I'll try to finish it before the expedition..." Dylan nodded.
"That long?" Rynar was surprised.
"Oh, my dear prince! Do you think Balrog Hearts grow on trees? These things can be used as materials for forging artifacts!
Processing them takes a long time! Lucky for you, I'm Tier Six—if I were Tier Five, I'd need months!" Dylan groaned, exasperated.
"Alright, alright, take your time. I was just curious." Seeing Dylan's frustration, Rynar chuckled sheepishly.
"Rynar, since everything here is settled, I'll be taking my leave." Elandor approached, bowing slightly.
"Alright. Send my regards to Elenthor." Rynar nodded.
"I will, Your Highness." Elandor smiled and mounted his dragon, soaring into the sky.
"Alright, everything's done! Let's pack up and go home!" Rynar stretched lazily, his voice filled with contentment.
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