“ROOOAR!”
A thunderous roar exploded. It came from the distant sky.
The sound slammed down like a shockwave—deafening.
Raw, primal terror seized everyone in Bright Town.
Most townsfolk’s legs buckled. Some nearly collapsed in the street.
Women and children screamed and bolted for cover together.
Even Rodel and his party wiped cold sweat from their foreheads.
The dragon’s aura chilled the air—utterly terrifying.
But one figure stood tall on the wall. Her golden-white cloak snapped in the wind; she was unfazed.
That solitary figure was a shot of courage straight to the heart.
Fear melted away.
After all, the Sword Saintess stood among them. Everything would be fine.
“Tell the people to get the elderly, women, and kids into the shelters now,” she said in that icy voice. “These flying lizards are our problem.”
Her words dripped with contempt.
Besides Rodel’s hero party, other adventurer groups worked together to herd civilians to safety.
Then the clouds above tore open like paper, shoved aside by a hurricane gust.
The dragon finally showed itself.
Obsidian scales. Bare hide. Jagged fangs. Talons. Wings that eclipsed the sky.
Its body stretched fifteen meters; its wingspan nearly fifty.
It looked just like the dragons of ancient legend.
“Here it comes,” the Sword Saintess said calmly.
She cocked a massive dragon-hunting ballista with one hand. Its target was nearly eight hundred meters away.
Aimed.
Fired.
*WHOOSH!*
The ear-splitting whistle cut the air.
Normally, it took ten grown men to ready this weapon.
She drew it fully—just one hand.
A heartbeat later, a miserable, agonized dragon scream echoed from the distance.
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The beast crashed from the sky, wings shattered like a wounded bird.
The whole town erupted.
“That’s the Sword Saintess! Unbelievable!”
“Just hide in the shelters! When we come out, the dragon problem will be over! Hahaha!”
“God bless her—when this is done, we’re building her a giant statue!”
Cheering as a community, the residents hurried into the bunkers without a trace of panic.
Still, twenty or thirty men stayed to help.
With the adventurers, they had about fifty fighters in all—more than enough.
The dying dragon’s final roar instantly enraged the rest.
Seven or eight more hunting dragons tore through the clouds and dove for Bright Town.
And hundreds of miles away on Dragon Island, something enormous cracked open its eyes.
“I just showed you the ballistae. Don’t be idiots,” the Sword Saintess said flatly.
In a blur she spun a high kick. Scrap lumber from the ballista went flying like spears.
One dragon’s pupil shrank to a pinprick.
Too late. No chance to dodge.
The wood shard punched straight through its eye.
Blood sprayed. It shrieked, spiraling down in confusion.
The others hesitated for half a second. More wood whistled in.
Every single one hit.
Not lethal, but certainly solid damage.
Everyone stared, dumbfounded.
Scrap wood—could it really harm dragons?
Her eyes were still blindfolded.
If she took the silk off, could she just wipe them out with toothpicks?
She was different—a league of her own.
“The real one’s coming. To the ballistae. Now,” she said, suddenly serious.
Seeing her tense, the rest of the group scrambled into position, each crawling frantically to where they belonged.
“ROOOOAR!!!”
A roar like judgment day split the heavens.
This one eclipsed all before—an entirely different league.
“Look—look up there! What the hell is that?!”
A resident shouted in terror.
On the horizon, a colossus shattered the clouds.
Its head alone dwarfed the bodies of ordinary dragons.
Dark amethyst scales studded with gilt bone spikes.
It looked like a mountain in flight.
Over a hundred meters long.
Wingspan pushing five hundred meters.
The swarm of lesser dragons looked like tadpoles near a whale.
Rodel’s voice was heavy. “The Amethyst Dragon Mother. Level 79 super monster.”
“That’s the Dragon King? Shoot—NOW!”
They snapped out of it.
All ten ballistae fired in unison.
The combined screech of cables and bolts was deafening.
But the Amethyst Dragon Mother simply opened her maw.
A wave of purple-gold flame shot out.
Every incoming bolt turned to ash mid-flight.
The fire stretched from a kilometer away to the town walls.
Everything in its path charred to blackened ruins.
The heat alone made people’s legs buckle.
If it touched them, they’d be cinders in seconds.
“High-tier Sword Art: Sword Surge!”
Finally.
The Sword Saintess drew her blade.
A flash of cold light.
Magic circles spun along the edge.
She swung.
A tsunami of sword energy surged forward like a tidal wave.
*SHHHH—*
Sword energy met the dragonflame and stopped it cold.
Rodel had witnessed powerful moves before, but the others nearly lost their minds.
“High-tier?! She actually used a high-tier technique!”
“Worth dying just to witness that!”
“The dragonfire… just blocked like that. Insane.”
Sword arts, magic, martial skills—all fell under “combat techniques.”
Low-, mid-, high-, super-, world-, half-moon, full-moon, solar-tier, and so on.
Even a single high-tier skill was a rarity.
Anything beyond that was basically legend.
With the flame halted, Rodel’s team fired another volley.
Three lesser dragons dropped instantly.
The rest peppered the Dragon Mother. It felt like mosquito bites to her.
“ROAR!”
The swarm was now inside town limits.
One breath of flame and entire houses vanished.
Again and again—total devastation.
Inside the shelters, the townsfolk listened to the apocalyptic noise, hearts pounding again.
A mother hugged her crying child. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re safe here. Just wait it out.”
“Yeah—even if the town burns down, the shelters won’t be hit. We’re fine.”
That calmed them a little.
Worst case, they’d rebuild later.
But were they really safe?
…
“Damn. What a fireworks show.”
From a small hill outside town, Tian watched the ocean of flames consume Bright Town.
A wicked, toothy grin spread across his face.
