The Dragon Lord had escaped …
However, it still left many eyes and ears in its territory, lying in ambush along the path of the Magi and launching frequent ambushes.
These fellows were either Draconid warriors in groups of three or five, or some aboriginals who did not know the meaning of death. Unfortunately, no matter what the situation was, they were unable to shake the huge metallic carriages that resembled a long snake.
They came, they attacked … and they would stay forever.
Little did they know that the ambush they thought to be covert was actually so clumsy and crude in the eyes of the Magi. The eyeball warships flying over a hundred meters above the ground had a small hole the size of an egg under their bellies, shooting out probing waves of various colors.
Regardless of whether the Draconids or aboriginals were lying in ambush in mud traps, pits, or bushes, their massive life force could not escape the detection of the life ripples. The ambush they thought to be covert had actually been detected by the eyeball warships, and was then transmitted to the Magi in the metallic carriages.
Thus, a few of the goblin chariots that were charging at full speed suddenly turned, dragging clouds of dust behind them as they charged towards the 'traps'.
Before they could even get close to the traps, the magical cannons installed above the goblin chariots began to rumble continuously, blasting dust and leaves into the air around the traps. The Draconids and aboriginals who were forced out of the traps did not even have the time to reach the chariots before they were blasted into pieces by concentrated energy rays and violent magical cannons, blood and flesh flying everywhere.
If there were any Grade 2 creatures among the enemies lying in ambush, the few goblin chariots would not fight them head-on, turning the chariots to engage in guerilla warfare. No matter how powerful a Grade 2 Draconid was, how many rounds of magical cannons could it withstand? If the enemies did not fall, there were Magi stationed in the accompanying chariots. Powerful spells with strange effects rained down on them, and even the most powerful of enemies would collapse in despair.
From start to finish, the Draconids and aboriginals could not even dream of catching up to the goblin chariots for a moment. As for the long-range skills they had, they were either heavy javelins or mid-range metal spears. Apart from adding a few dents and decorations to the metal body of the gnome chariots, they had no other use.
On one side were fully armed killing machines from a higher plane, while on the other were narrow-minded and autistic primitive natives … Even if the Drakonid's individual ability could easily crush the goblin drivers and the accompanying wizards, the battlefield was a one-sided slaughter.
The ones who fell were the Drakonids who had strong basic qualities but primitive tactics, while the ones who stood proudly on the battlefield were the wretched goblins who were physically weak but armed themselves to the teeth with magical machinery and sorcery.
This was not a special case of a local battlefield, but a powerful crushing of a foreign civilization against another backward civilization!
In a powerful clash between civilizations, the difference in strength between the two sides would be obvious. It was not something that could be made up for with individual bravery and passion. At the very least, the scattered soldiers before them were not strong enough to ignore the difference in technology and equipment!
Once the little dragon's territory was passed through, the huge metal convoy did not need to stop to rest and replenish supplies at all. After crushing the local sporadic 'ambushes' with a domineering force, they proceeded along the pre-planned route of advance.
The ignorant natives or magical creatures were initially dissatisfied with the metal caravan passing through their territory and prepared to give chase. However, when they saw the terrifying metal dragon that towered between the heavens and the earth behind the huge caravan with their own eyes, the little bit of violence and arrogance in their hearts instantly vanished.
A foreign wizard had created a terrifying metal dragon and brought it to challenge the Dragon Lord … Such a rumor spread like a plague in all directions, causing every living creature who heard the news to be filled with anticipation.
To be honest, in Lance, apart from the Drakonid army and dragon-worshippers, all native tribes with intelligence were filled with rage and hatred towards the dragon liege.
When the dragon liege controlled the pinnacle of the plane's power, they could only choose to endure and submit. However, once the dragon liege was overthrown into the swamp by another powerful enemy, the hatred from thousands of years of enslavement would quickly explode!
They didn't know if the wizards were holy spirits who had come to rescue them. However, when the dragon liege's domineering might and high-pressure rule collapsed, a sudden wave of retaliation swiftly engulfed the scattered Drakonids and Dragon-Worshippers.
In just three days, the metal caravan had crossed the little dragon's territory and entered the territory of another grade 2 dragon.
That grade 2 dragon wasn't much stronger than the grade 1 dragon, and the organized border guards collapsed under the metal caravan's ferocious cannon fire. Thus, the grade 2 dragon hurriedly packed its bag and fled with the wealth it had painstakingly plundered.
… …
This was a long and narrow valley between two majestic mountains.
Dragon-Worshippers from all over the Wilhard Dragon Territory were hard at work, stacking up sturdy stone ramparts and wooden platforms at the southern entrance of the valley.
Burly Drakonid warriors were scattered throughout the valley, resting while grinding their teeth as they polished their weapons. Around them, short ratmen or lizardmen hunched their bodies, carrying baskets full of food as they delivered it to them.
Grabbing a pitch-black cheese from a wicker basket and tossing it into his mouth, the Drakonid Warrior Hannah spat it out after taking a bite and coughing violently.
"Damn … bastard … What … What is this?" Hannah roared in rage as he dug out a piece of cheese with traces of blood from his throat.
Out of rage, Hannah hammered the ratman slave in front of him into a bloody pulp with his large, scaly hand.
"Don't be picky. Eat this food for me!" A Drakonid leader who was dragging his huge body around the valley roared even louder, "Do you think this is still the Drakonid camp? Do you think there's sweet and delicious Saro Pork Chops waiting for you? Don't even think about it. Hurry up and eat this food. We still have to fight against those alien invaders in a while … "
In various parts of the valley, Drakonid warriors raised the pitch-black jerky in their hands, but could not identify which species of rat or beast it came from no matter how hard they tried. All they could do was close their eyes and stuff it into their mouths.
The pungent and bitter taste lingered in their mouths and nostrils, causing every Drakonid warrior to frown and curse inwardly.
It was too difficult to eat this unknown jerky that was comparable to dried tree bark. One Drakonid warrior suddenly had an idea, grabbing a ratman slave beside him and twisting its head off, pouring the fresh blood into his mouth.
As expected, the meat and cheese were no longer as hard to swallow as before, nourished by the fresh blood.
The other Drakonid warriors followed suit, grabbing the servants beside them and twisting or cracking their skulls as they gulped down the blood and brain juices.
For a moment, the valley was filled with the Drakonids' coarse and arrogant roars and bellows, mixed with the feeble, shrill cries of the ratmen and lizardmen before their deaths …
At the mouth of the valley in the distance, native laborers captured from nearby villages were laboriously working, doing their best to reinforce the defensive fortress built from stacked boulders. Thick, sharpened wooden stakes were hammered into the soil, their tips pointed outwards and smeared with terrifying poison that could kill upon contact.
Trolls, ogres, pigmen, bearmen … Many burly native slaves were either carrying the stakes on their shoulders or lifting them with their hands, busily working. Meanwhile, the black-robed dragon-worshippers waved their leather whips and yelled incessantly, desperately urging them to move faster.
Gazing into the distance from the mouth of the valley, one could see clouds of dust rising from the horizon, as if a behemoth was madly advancing towards them.
Moss flicked the hood in front of his eyes with the tip of his whip, then raised his head and narrowed his eyes, silently looking at the sky.
In the gloomy sky, sesame-sized black dots were hovering and hovering in the air. Judging from their flying heights and flying trajectories, they couldn't be mountain eagles. Most of the time, they were circling too urgently. Moses had never seen a flying creature with such an erratic flight path in his entire life.
What were those? Flying magical creatures driven by wizards? Or was it an alchemy creation created by wizards using strange witchcraft?
A series of questions popped up in his mind, but he couldn't find any answers.
As an important figure in the Dragon-Worshipper Religion, Moss surely had his own tricks.
Following a series of short and hurried incantations, Moss cast a 'Hawkeye' spell on himself, and only then did he see the true faces of those black spots.
"Go, inform Lord Zhamu that the enemy's sentinels are here!" Moss grabbed a dragon-worshipper's hand and gave the order with the harshest tone.
Immediately, this dragon-worshipper staggered into the deep part of the valley.
After a short while, along with a slight vibration of the ground, a large group of dragon-people warriors rushed out of the valley in orderly lines, with their long-handled axes raised high. The leader of this army was Zhamu, the tier-two leader of the dragon-people army.
"Enemy … Where are the enemies?" Zhamu gripped a pair of gigantic machetes in his hands, walked up to Moss, who was wearing a black cloak, and roared out with a thunderous step.
Moss then pointed his long whip at the sky.
Zhamu covered his eyes with his hands, and his weird, lizard-like vertical pupils suddenly shrunk. With his super-strong eyesight, he instantly captured those strange black dots that were hovering in the dim sky.
Illuminated by the dim light, the surfaces of those black dots were smooth and clean, reflecting the dim blue luster of magic metals. At first glance, Moss could tell that those black dots were not in the shape of magical creatures in the world of Lance.
"Get into the battle fort and hide … Those are the enemies' flying scouts!"
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