Chapter 743: Inhuman Strength

The Lady of Calamity and her two companions see Henwell hurl the death dragon away.

Shock fills their eyes as he charges after it.

Alex looks especially wary. "Is he really human?"

"What was that just now? Does he carry the bloodline of a storm giant?"

The Lady of Calamity does not answer. She concentrates on arranging the spell formation, fully aware that Henwell is no match for the death dragon.

He is only buying time. If this drags on, he will not be able to hold out much longer.

She is right. Henwell leaps onto the death dragon's back.

The Blood Giant follows him like a shadow, pounding the death dragon beneath it with a frenzy of blows.

The dragon naturally fights back, raking with its claws, snapping with its fangs, and lashing with its tail.

From a distance, the dust reveals only two enormous creatures locked in a savage brawl.

The death dragon looks battered and is repeatedly pinned down and pummeled by the Blood Giant.

Yet every counterattack makes the Blood Giant grow a little fainter.

As time passes, the projection becomes increasingly insubstantial.

At last, the Blood Giant hurls the death dragon away one more time and reaches its limit.

The Blood Giant shatters into mist, then sinks back into Henwell's body.

Henwell is now in terrible condition. All the injuries the death dragon inflicted upon the Blood Giant appear on his body at once.

Claw marks and bite wounds cover him. A chunk of flesh is missing from his shoulder, exposing the stark white of his collarbone.

Those are merely the wounds visible from the outside.

A violent coughing fit sends fragments of organ tissue spraying from his mouth. His internal injuries are every bit as severe.

Henwell steadies himself, jumps back to the crater he made earlier, and retrieves both longswords.

"How much longer? I can't hold it back!"

The Lady of Calamity gives no reply and focuses entirely on restoring the idol.

Henwell spits out a mouthful of bloody saliva. Seeing the dragon charging toward him with a roar, he can only draw a deep breath.

Another giant projection appears around Henwell.

This time, it is not bloodred, but a giant radiating milky-white light.

This projection is visibly shorter than the last, standing only about forty meters tall.

Its smaller size puts it at a considerable disadvantage against a monster as enormous as the death dragon.

Nor does the white-light giant look nearly as fierce as its predecessor.

As the death dragon charges, several massive chain projections appear in the white-light giant's hands.

It lashes out with the chains and binds the death dragon tightly.

This battle is far less violent than the last.

The white-light giant focuses on restricting the death dragon's movements. It is doing little more than buying time.

Only a few minutes later, however, the white-light giant shatters and dissipates.

Henwell's injuries worsen even further.

Henwell drops to his knees and pants before forcing himself upright. He is drenched in blood, with scarcely a patch of unbroken skin left on his body.

After retrieving both swords yet again, Henwell shouts, "I can't hold on! Send Alex to help me!"

The Lady of Calamity finally answers, "No. She has her own task. I'm almost done, so hold on a little longer!"

The death dragon charges toward him, hatred burning in its eyes, and Henwell curses inwardly.

As if sheer stubbornness alone can somehow solve this problem!

With no other choice, Henwell grips both swords and rushes back in to hack at the death dragon's feet.

Several more minutes pass. The death dragon suddenly roars again, ignores Henwell's harassment, and charges straight toward the Lady of Calamity.

Halfway there, however, it rapidly slows, like a bullet plunging into water.

Leaning against the ruins and coughing blood, Henwell sees a dazzling light flare from the remains of the church.

A ring of light spreads outward with the Lady of Calamity at its center.

When it washes over the death dragon, the creature's laborious advance stops completely.

Another ring of light follows. The moment it passes over the death dragon, the creature howls and begins sliding backward.

The furrows its claws carve into the ground make it obvious that it is not retreating willingly.

Some unseen force is dragging it back.

It is being pulled toward the mound of bones where it had once lain.

The mound was destroyed during the fierce battle, but a vast quantity of bones still covers the area.

Near the Lady of Calamity, the idol slowly begins to appear.

It takes shape from the feet upward, layer by layer, like something emerging from a three-dimensional printer.

Each newly formed section sends another halo of light spreading outward.

With every halo, the death dragon is dragged another step toward the field of bones.

When it is only two hundred meters away, it turns its head toward Henwell.

"Human! I am Mileobi the Thunderwing. Your valor has earned my recognition."

"In accordance with the ancient covenant, I now permit you to form a contract with me."

"You will become a mighty Dragon Knight and gain the right to borrow my power."

"In return, you must do everything possible to restore me."

"Human, give me your name. Will you become a sacred Dragon Knight?"

Henwell's eyes light up. "I will! I, Henwell Rudolph Phoenix, agree to form a contract with you!"

The moment he finishes speaking, Barbarossa's body collapses into a stream of light that races toward Henwell.

Barbarossa's phantom is now only two meters long, its body an interweaving of bloodred and black.

Though still shaped like a dragon, the phantom radiates sacred majesty.

An intricate spell formation the size of a dinner plate appears before Barbarossa. "Human! Reach out and seal the ancient contract!"

With difficulty, Henwell raises a hand and presses his palm against the spell formation.

The formation activates, dissolving into lines that spread over Henwell's arm and climb toward his head.

Barbarossa bares a mouthful of fangs in what seems to be a smile.

At the same time, Henwell smiles as well.

"You finally fell for it!" they exclaim in unison.

Barbarossa freezes, then roars, "What have you done?!"

"Damn you! What are you doing, you insect?!"

"I am the great Death Shadow! How could I possibly be controlled by you?"

"Stop this! Stop at once!"

"You're courting death! I've been corrupted by abyssal demon aura. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Barbarossa's threats give way to pleas, then terrified shrieks.

Henwell turns to look at his left shoulder, where a tattoo the size of a plate has appeared.

The tattoo depicts a ferocious dragon emblem, the roaring creature bound tightly by several bloodred and silver chains.

Henwell sneers. "Have you looked at yourself? You thought you could trick me into becoming some gullible dragon rider?"