Chapter 117: Easy to Summon a Dragon, Hard to Send It Away

"Silver Dragon, why have you come to this place?"

Upon hearing the wizard's query, Garon's expression remained unchanged, his gaze indifferent, and his voice deep as he responded, "Bring your leader to me."

The connection to the Red Flame Staff and the lava demi-plane portal became almost tangible as he neared, but the proximity made the sense of it ubiquitous, complicating Garon's ability to pinpoint its exact location.

But, undoubtedly, it was within this central city.

"This..."

The wizard's expression shifted, his brow furrowed tightly.

"Silver Dragon, you must understand, you came uninvited, entering the human nation without permission. Asking for our king to meet you, is that..."

Thump! 

Garon's claw heavily struck the ground, causing dirt and stones to scatter and cracks to form. Amidst the violent tremors, the wizard's speech abruptly ceased, his face pale under the moonlight.

The surrounding guards hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

Garon's body leaned forward slightly, his shadow stretching forward with his movement. The sheer physical intimidation made the guards instinctively step back.

In front of a twenty-meter-long enormous dragon, the weapons in their hands felt like mere comforts.

Even without Garon unleashing his dragon might, they found it difficult to breathe in his mere presence.

"Do not make me repeat myself. I have already shown sufficient goodwill."

Sufficient goodwill, indeed, under the direct threat. The wizard, not daring to delay, quickly instructed a spellcaster beside him to inform the Duke of Thorns about the situation.

As for whether the Duke of Thorns, as the leader of the Mosha Duchy, dared to confront a powerful silver dragon directly, the wizard was unsure.

"Please wait here; someone has already gone to notify the Duke."

Garon remained silent, and the human guards did not dare to breathe too loudly. The atmosphere around was as tense and oppressive as a dark cloud.

It was autumn, and the night air carried a slight chill that would usually bring a shiver, but now many were sweating profusely, their hands gripping their weapons slick with perspiration.

The ordinary people of the Mosha Duchy might not be aware, but those present had some understanding of their nation's plight.

Initially aggressive like a wolf in the war to gain more influence, the Mosha Duchy had been without a pillar since the disappearance of two high-ranking wizards on the northern ice fields.

Then, General Rosha, known for his bravery, disappeared with his elite troops as well.

Forced to call back their troops from abroad, the Mosha Duchy had become the weaker party, wary of the neighboring duchies.

Even the recently conquered Walker Duchy was snatched by a more ferocious enemy, turning their victory into fodder for others.

War, a double-edged sword, had brutally struck Mosha without mercy.

The changing tides of war were unpredictable, and even the Duke of Thorns had not expected that his nation, which had been celebrating the easy conquest of Walker Duchy, would suddenly become a teetering tower.

The red dragon they had summoned was now occasionally demanding tribute during Mosha's time of crisis.

It was easy to summon a dragon, but hard to send it away. The Mosha Duchy had managed to appease it several times, but still couldn't satisfy its greedy heart.

Moreover, the Mosha Duchy was now being targeted by stronger duchies.

An emissary from one such duchy had proposed many excessive demands, giving the Duke of Thorns a deadline to consider. The Duke spent each day with a grim expression, burdened with heavy thoughts.

At the same time, the restless Duke of Thorns was disturbed by the noise outside, frowning slightly.

"Court wizard Rutherford, requesting to see the Duke."

The Duke discerned the urgency in the nervous, trembling voice of the other.

"Come in. What has happened outside?"

"A very large silver dragon has arrived, requesting to see you."

The Duke's expression faltered, then after inquiring about the situation, his eyes not only showed no fear but also a glimmer of hope.

"Lead me to him immediately."

"The city's guard isn't a match for a silver dragon, and it will take a while for the army to assemble here. If it has malicious intentions, you might be in danger."

"Danger? The dangers Mosha has faced are already numerous. Do you think I would fear danger?"

The Duke chuckled, then stepped out into the night.

Before long, the Duke of Thorns reached where Garon was located. The crowd parted to make way, and the surrounding guards saluted respectfully while remaining vigilant of Garon's every move.

By then, Garon had landed, his massive body dwarfing the surrounding structures.

He silently observed the elderly man who walked slowly from the midst of the guards to the forefront.

The

 Duke of Thorns wore an elegant robe adorned with gold and silver thorn patterns, looking ordinary, his age advanced, with wrinkles covering his face and white mingling with his dull golden hair.

His eyes were bloodshot, his vitality seemingly drained from lack of rest.

However, in those seemingly murky eyes, Garon saw a spark of wisdom.

The Duke of Thorns was merely a mortal, with no elemental radiance around him and no magic within him, his figure almost frail in the night.

Yet, as a mere human, he possessed an intangible authority developed from long-term power, giving him a distinct dignity compared to the spellcasters beside him.

Facing Garon, even the most powerful spellcasters could not hide their nervousness, their hearts pounding, while ordinary guards trembled and sweated profusely.

But the Duke of Thorns, a mere mortal who could be killed with a breath from Garon, maintained a calm demeanor with a smile, seemingly under no pressure at all.

Garon thought that if he unleashed his dragon might, this human duke wouldn't be able to remain so composed.

Currently, the pressure from Garon stemmed mainly from the oppressive sense of a super-large creature's presence, without using any dragon might.

This type of physical oppression could be resisted by a human with enough resolve.

But the supernatural force of dragon might, Garon felt, could easily crush this physically weakened human duke.

"Dragons, truly beautiful and powerful creatures."

The Duke of Thorns waved away his guards, stepping closer to Garon and stopping about ten meters away, looking up at him.

"Metallic dragons have always harbored goodwill towards humans. Therefore, I will not be stingy with our nation's resources and can offer you assistance."

"So, mighty Silver Dragon, why have you come?"