Chapter 233: Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!

Cold moonlight spilled across the earth, draping the world in a veil.

On the thirty-meter-high City Wall of Blade Fortress, roughly a hundred soldiers gripped their spears. Standing in the gaps between the battlements, they gazed at the two-hundred-meter passage ahead.

The soil in this passage was an unnatural blackish-red and barren of a single weed. It exuded a faint stench of blood. This was the famous orc slaughterhouse of the Madilan World—the Orc's Throat!

The City Wall of Blade Fortress stood right in the middle of a narrow passage between two cliffs. Majestic, treacherous mountains flanked either side, forming a natural barrier that separated the Great Orc Prairie from human territory and rendered the passage of large armies impossible.

The first emperor of the Luonan Empire, the Blade Emperor—who had defeated the Orc Empire and driven all orcs into the prairie—once declared in a public speech: holding Blade Fortress was like gripping the orcs by the throat. The passage earned its name from this very declaration.

True to the Blade Emperor's words, the resources of the Great Orc Prairie simply could not sustain the massive, rapidly breeding orc population. The orcs who retreated to the prairie were forced to launch desperate, suicidal charges against Blade Fortress.

This passage, two hundred meters long and eighty meters wide, became an impassable chasm. From their high ground, the imperial defenders successfully held the fortress at a negligible cost.

Hundreds of thousands of orc corpses carpeted the passage. It took the defenders of Blade Fortress three full days and nights just to clear the bodies away.

After that battle, the earth of the Orc's Throat was steeped in blood, turning a blackish-red that remained to this day.

The failed decisions of the Orc Empire's ruler caused the empire to splinter, regressing into a primitive chieftain system.

Over the ensuing millennia, whenever the orc population on the Great Orc Prairie exceeded what the land could support, they had no choice but to throw themselves at Blade Fortress again, only to be reaped once more by the human defenders.

Plagued by endless war, this tiny strip of land known as the Orc's Throat became entirely barren.

Because of this, the Orc Race—which once boasted a population equal to humanity's—now had a population base merely one percent of that of humans.

Humanity now held the absolute initiative.

When they wished to avoid war, they simply smuggled extra grain into the Great Orc Prairie, squeezing out the last drops of the Orc Race's value.

And when they wanted to start a war?

You must be joking. Would a wealthy man living in a mansion go out of his way to beat up paupers in the slums for no reason?!

The answer was—yes, he would.

Because the wealthy man wanted the land beneath the paupers' feet, but another wealthy man held him in check. Combined with the paupers' robust bodies, their suicidal fighting style, and the terrifying vicious dogs guarding them, the situation remained in a permanent deadlock.

Such was the current state of the Madilan World.

The Orc Race had always been protected by dragons. How could humanity not prepare against these massive flying beasts and their deadly breath? Thus, they invented a weapon—the Dragon-Shooting Cannon.

These immensely powerful ballistae were strong enough to pierce dragon scales, but their massive size made them terribly difficult to move. This was exactly why the Luonan Empire had delayed its march into the prairie.

Up on the City Wall of Blade Fortress, soldiers stood on the firing platforms of ten enormous Dragon-Shooting Cannons, keeping a close eye on the sky for any movement.

One soldier staring at the sky felt his eyes ache. He lowered his head to rub them, and in that momentary lapse of attention, he caught the sounds of singing and dancing drifting from the fortress behind him. Smelling the aroma of roast meat and fine wine, he sniffed the air and sighed.

"Ah! Smells amazing! Just our luck. Everyone else is enjoying a welcome banquet, and here we are, freezing in the cold wind on the walls."

Sensing his companion's deep resentment, a nearby soldier tried to comfort him.

"Stop complaining. Someone will come relieve us in a bit, and then we can—"

"Look! What is that?!"

A sudden cry of alarm cut the soldier off.

Everyone hastily looked up at the distant sky ahead. Backed by the silver moon, three dark silhouettes flew in from afar, looking like grim reapers descending from the moon itself.

"Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!"

One soldier reacted swiftly and blew the war horn!

Bwooo!

First came the terrified shouts of the soldiers, followed by the desolate blast of the horn, echoing one after another in the skies above Blade Fortress.

The celebrating crowds descended into chaos. Soldiers hurriedly strapped on their armor, found their units, and rushed to their respective posts under the command of their officers.

Though news of dragons flying into human territory to sack villages and towns spread every few years, most people lived their entire lives without ever catching a glimpse of one.

And most people never wanted to, either. After all, dragons were synonymous with death and disaster.

Dragon-Shooting Cannons could kill dragons, yes!

But only if they actually hit their mark. Striking these massive targets moving at high speeds through the air required firing multiple bolts. Yet in most cases, long before the human soldiers could ever shoot down a dragon, their city would already be reduced to a sea of flames.

General Loski, who had been constantly monitoring the situation on the walls, rushed up to the ramparts. Seeing the gradually enlarging figures in the distance, his heart surged with wild excitement.

He was one of those rare few who actively wanted to meet a dragon—because he was a Warrior!

The Blade Emperor had once said: a Warrior who doesn't wish to slay a dragon is no true Warrior!

Ever since reading this famous quote in a book during his childhood, young Loski had carved it deeply into his heart, making it his lifelong goal.

"Soldiers! Do not panic! Return to your posts! There is nothing to fear; we have the Dragon-Shooting Cannons! Fifty Dragon-Shooting Cannons! If they dare to come, we will shoot them full of holes!"

When Blade Fortress was designed, the threat of dragon attacks had been heavily factored in. Dragon-Shooting Cannons were mounted not just on the City Wall, but also atop the towers within the fortress itself. When fired in unison, their sheer numbers meant the specialized armor-piercing bolts could cover the entire sky.

General Loski was thrilled. He felt his dream was finally on the verge of coming true.

"Hurry! Brave soldiers of the Empire! Move!"

The commander's shouts had their intended effect. The well-trained soldiers hastily cranked the winches. Under the tremendous tension, the cross-shaped bow arms—as thick as a grown man's waist—were drawn back. Another soldier hoisted a massive bolt from the ground with both hands and loaded it into the firing groove. The soldier in charge of aiming adjusted the trajectory, aligning the cold, gleaming arrowhead squarely at the approaching dark silhouettes.

General Loski rested his hands on the freezing stone of the City Wall, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Yet, the cold rampart did nothing to cool his burning heart.

The wind tossed the young commander's blond hair, but Loski only had eyes for the approaching dragons. His ears automatically tuned out the surrounding clamor, leaving him to hear only the rapid, thundering beat of his own heart.

Finally, the dragons were less than a thousand meters from the fortress.

As the dragons drew closer, Loski finally noticed something was wrong. According to the books, the body length of a dragon was generally around fifteen meters.

But the three dragons before him...!

Loski didn't know their exact length, but it was absolutely more than double that!