Age of Adepts

The giant dragon lord ran away....

However, it still left a multitude of ears and eyes within its territory, ambushing and launching frequent raids in the places where the sorcerer's team traveled.

These guys were either groups of draconic warriors or some unknowing indigenous clan, but unfortunately, in either case, they couldn't shake the massive metal convoy that resembled a serpent.

They came, they attacked...and they stayed forever.

Where did they know that the raid they thought they were concealing was so clumsy and crude in the eyes of the wizards. An eyeball fighter flying a hundred meters above the ground, with an egg-sized hole opening up under its belly, was radiating downward with detection waves of varying colors.

Whether the dragons or the indigenous tribes were ambushed in mud traps, earth pits or scrub forests, their own enormous life energies could not escape the scanning and sensing of the life ripples. What they thought were hidden raids had already been detected and scanned by the eyeball fighters, and then transmitted back to the sorcerers in the metal convoy.

As a result, the metal convoy that was raiding suddenly had a few goblin chariots turn their front ends, dragging smoke and dust into these 'traps'.

Before they could even get close to the traps, the magic energy cannons set up above the goblin chariots began to continuously roar, blasting the dust and leaves around the traps. Before the draconians or natives forced out of the trap could reach the goblin chariot, they were blown to pieces by the dense energy rays and fierce magic cannons, and their flesh and blood flew everywhere.

If the ambush included 2nd-rank creatures, several goblin chariots would not even engage them head-on, and the front of the vehicle would turn and fight a guerrilla attack. How many times could even the most powerful Tier 2 draconians withstand a magical artillery bombardment? If the enemy hadn't fallen yet, there were still sorcerers stationed within the accompanying chariot, and powerful and strangely effective sorcery rained down, causing even the most powerful enemy to slump in grief and anger.

From start to finish, these dragons and indigenous tribes would not be able to catch up with the goblin chariot for a moment. And the long-range skills they possessed, either powerful throwing spears or half-medium-range metal pike darts, did nothing more than add a few pits and decorations to the goblin chariot's metal body.

On one side were heavily armed killing machines from the High Plane, and on the other side were narrow and self-contained primitive natives... Although the draconians' individual strength was enough to easily crush the goblin drivers and accompanying sorcerers in the goblin fleet, what was presented on the battlefield was a one-sided dumping and killing.

The one who fell was the strong but primitive Dragonman, while the one who was proud of the battlefield was the weak but dirty Goblin who armed himself to the teeth with magic weapons and sorcery.

This was not an exception to the local battlefield, but a powerful crushing of another backward civilization by a foreign civilization!

In a powerful clash between civilizations, the difference in strength between the two sides was clear, and could not be made up and evened out by individual bravery and bloodlust alone. At least these stragglers in front of them weren't strong enough to ignore the disparity in technology and equipment!

The small dragon's territory was passed through, the huge metal convoy did not need to stop to rest and resupply, and powerfully ran over the local sporadic 'attacks', and also went along with the pre-planned route of travel.

The local natives or demons were originally dissatisfied with the metal caravan passing through their territory and were ready to chase after it. However, when they witnessed the terrifying metal dragon behind the huge convoy, which looked like a small mountain, the hostility and arrogance in their hearts vanished in an instant.

The foreign sorcerers had created a terrifying metal dragon and brought it with them to challenge the Dragon Lord... Such rumors spread in all directions at the speed of a plague, causing every living creature who heard the news to have hidden expectations.

To be honest, in the Lance Seat, except for the Dragon Legion and those Dragon worshippers, all the other indigenous tribes that possessed intelligence were filled with anger and hatred towards the Dragon Lords.

When the Giant Dragon Lords were in control of the extreme power of the throne, they could only choose to endure and submit. But once the Dragon Lords were overturned in the mud by another powerful enemy, the hatred that had enslaved them for thousands of years in the past was quickly exploded!

Whether the wizards were the Holy Spirit who had come to free them, they did not know. However, as the ruling order that the past dragon lords had maintained with great force and high-handedness crumbled, the steep waves of backlash that erupted everywhere quickly engulfed the scattered draconians or dragon worshippers.

It only took three days for the metal convoy to cross the territory of that small dragon and enter the dominion of another 2-stage dragon.

That 2nd ranked dragon was not much stronger than the 1st ranked small dragon, and the organized border guards instantly collapsed under the ferocious fire of the metal caravan. As a result, that Tier 2 Dragon also hurriedly took care of the packages and ran away with the wealth it had worked so hard to scavenge.

............

It was a narrow valley road between two majestic peaks.

Dragon worshippers from all over the Wilhard Dragon Territory were hard at work, stacking up sturdy stone ramparts and a wooden tower at the entrance to the southern section of the canyon.

A large and strong draconic warrior was scattered all over the canyon, resting slumped against the stone wall while gnashing their teeth and polishing their weapons. And around them, the diminutive ratmen or lizardmen rickety, carrying baskets full of food brought to their eyes.

Randomly grabbing a blackened cheese from the woven basket of thorns and tossing it into his mouth, Hannah, the draconian warrior, took just one bite before spewing everything out in a violent coughing fit.

"Damn...bastard...what...what is this?" Picking a bloody shard of cheese out of his throat, Hannah growled angrily.

Out of rage, one hammer blow from Hannah's large, scaly armor-clad hand smashed the rat slave in front of him into a bloody paste.

"Stop picking and choosing, and eat all this food!" A draconian leader who was dragging his massive body around the canyon patrolled the area and growled at an even louder volume, "Do you think this is still a draconian camp? To be able to have sweet and savory Salo pork chops waiting for you? Don't be paranoid, give me a hurry to eat this food, we'll have to fight those extra-territorial invaders later..."

Everywhere in the canyon, one draconic warrior lifted the pitch-black jerky in their hands, trying for a long time to identify what kind of rat or beast it was part of, only closing their eyes and viciously stuffing them into their mouths.

The fetid, bitter taste echoed in their mouths and noses, making every draconic warrior frown and curse under their breath.

Eating such unknown dried flesh that was on a par with dead tree bark was too difficult, so one draconic warrior had a whim, grabbed a rat slave on his side, twisted off its head, and raised his neck to pour the dripping blood into his mouth.

As expected, the dried meat and cheese, nourished by the foul, fresh blood, were no longer as hard to swallow as before.

The other draconic warriors followed suit, grabbing the slaves serving at their sides, twisting off their heads or cracking their brains, and gulping down the blood and brain juices.

For a time, the canyon was filled with the arrogant and heavy roars and growls of the draconians, mixed with the sharp and weak dying wails of the ratmen and lizardmen....

In the distance, at the mouth of the gorge, an indigenous drudge, captured from a nearby village, was hard at work trying to reinforce the blockade made of boulders. A thick, sharpened wooden stake was pinned into the earth, pointing outward, and coated with the horrible poisonous juice that sealed their throats with blood.

Trolls, ogres, pigmen, bearmen... a single, strong native slave, shoulder or hand carried, was busy. And the dragon worshippers in black robes were waving their whips, yelling incessantly, desperately urging them to speed up their pace.

And standing at the mouth of the gorge far away, less than sight below the horizon of the dust head rose, it seemed that there was a huge creature advancing madly towards here.

Moss picked at the hood in front of him with the tip of his whip and raised his head to squint silently at the sky.

On the gloomy, dark sky, a sesame-sized black dot danced and circled. From the height and trajectory of their flight, it couldn't be a mountain hawk. Because many times they circled and spiraled too quickly, Moss had never seen flying creatures with such erratic and unpredictable flight trajectories in all of his growth.

What were these? Flying demons driven by witches? Or maybe it's an alchemical creation created by witches using strange sorcery?

A series of questions floated in his mind, but he couldn't find any answers at all.

As an important figure in the Byron Cult, Moss certainly had some of his own methods.

With the sound of a short and rapid string of incantations, Moss enchanted himself with a 'Hawk's Eye' technique, which allowed him to truly see the true nature of those black dots.

"Go, inform Lord Zamu that the enemy sentries have arrived!" Moss pulled a Dragon worshipper by the hand and commanded him in the harshest tone of voice.

The dragon worshipper immediately stumbled into the depths of the gorge.

A moment later, with a slight tremor in the earth, a large number of draconic warriors rushed out from the depths of the canyon in a neat line, holding their long-handled battle axes aloft, led by the 2nd rank leader of the draconic army, Zamu.

"The enemy... where is the enemy?" Zamu gripped two huge war swords in his hands and roared loudly as he stepped on the ground before Mose, who was dressed in black robes.

Moss pointed a long whip at the sky.

Zamu hand on the awning, snake lizard creature-like strange vertical pupils for a sudden tightening, with their superb vision instantly captured the dark sky of a coiled strange black spot.

Under the dull sky light, the surface of all the black spots were smooth and neat, reflecting the unique blue luster of magic metal, and at a glance, they were not the proper form of a magic object for the Lance bit.

"All of you get into the war fort and take shelter...that's the enemy's flying eye post!"

Under the command of Chief Zamu, large groups of draconic warriors either burrowed into the war fort or leaned against the rock wall, instantly concealing themselves.