Chapter 484: Deathwing

The black dragon stretched its wings, as if they could cover the entire night sky. A deep, mocking laugh erupted from its enormous maw, awakening every insignificant being in its presence.

Vereesa looked up again, her eyes widening at the sight of a terrifying visage. Beneath two pairs of massive horns, narrow, gem-like yellow eyes gleamed with malicious intent. Its powerful limbs bristled with explosive strength, sharp claws extended, and from its gaping maw dripped golden flames of death.

In the shadow of the night, its dark red stripes lent it an appearance so horrifying that it seemed like a devil out of legend.

But what caught her attention most was...

All she could see was metal.

The metal, plated and shimmering with a strange metallic glow under the pale moonlight, almost encased the entire black dragon.

Once a dragon reached the stage of a young dragon, its natural scales were proven to be immune to most attacks from mundane weapons. Even ballistae struggled to pierce a dragon's natural armor.

Why then did this dragon wear armor to protect itself? And what metal was this armor made from?

There was no answer. Never had anyone seen metal like this!

Though Vereesa had no urge to shoot an arrow at it, she instinctively felt that even if her arrows did strike, it would be in vain. The metallic armor conveyed a surreal feeling—it possessed a strength that mundane forces could not penetrate! And only a very powerful and self-assured dragon would endure the agony of having metal embedded into its body.

"Deathwing..." Vereesa whispered the nightmarish name to herself. "Deathwing, Neltharion..."

In elven legend, there were once five great Guardian Dragons that represented the mysterious and natural forces. Some tales claimed that the red Alexstrasza symbolized the essence of life. The other Guardian Dragons were less known. The elves had felt their influence and even interacted with them on different occasions, but more information about dragons had never been revealed by the elven elders.

However, among the dragons, one had become known to the world, telling people of its existence in its own way.

Although it originally had a name of its own, to better disdain its weaker kin, it chose the title 'Deathwing.' Deathwing sought to destroy the world built by elves, humans, and dwarves, and even the eldest elven elders did not know what drove Deathwing to do so.

In private, the elves gave it another name—the Forgotten Guardian Dragon.

A short phrase, yet it held much more meaning: abandoned duty, chaos, betrayal, and rage. If Alexstrasza represented the essence of life, then Deathwing epitomized the power of destruction.

And now, such a dragon soared before them, as if it were protecting them in its own way. Of course, there was another possibility: Deathwing seemed not to notice the existence of Vereesa and the gryphon riders at all.

The red dragon before it was the only worthy opponent, for Deathwing hated other colored dragons, tearing them to shreds without mercy if encountered.

Moments before, the two red dragons had been playing cat and mouse, chasing smaller prey.

Moments later, they became the prey themselves.

Deathwing stirred up a tremendous gale, its form like a shadow covering the earth, quickly rushing past the gryphon riders and attacking the opposite side.

In just one face-to-face encounter, the smaller dragon was torn in half by Deathwing's massive right claw. The young red dragon, huge in mortal eyes, became a discarded broken toy, scattering flesh and scales, plummeting to the earth without even a cry.

Such terrifying destructive power!

The mortals below stared in disbelief.

"It's unbelievable, uh..." Falstad muttered. "We were actually saved by Deathwing, the notorious dragon of legend."

A sudden scream, as if slapping his face, made him turn his head. The direction of the scream was empty, but in another corner of his vision, he saw the fate of a comrade.

A stream of flame! Merely the trailing flames from Deathwing's flight had caused the death of a dwarven rider and his gryphon.

Just ten meters away, Falstad watched helplessly as his companion was ignited by a wicked fire.

A tiny spark of flame suddenly grew into a raging inferno upon contact with the body. The intense heat caused the dwarf and his gryphon to burn, peeling away skin to reveal burning muscles, bones, and innards before the blood boiled and they turned to ash.

For a moment, Falstad and Vereesa were frozen in mid-air.

Heavens, how many had been hit?

An elf and a dwarf began to panic simultaneously.

They twisted their necks and rolled their eyes, searching.

Vereesa saw Marianne screaming and jumping down. As a mage with the rogue's art of Slow Fall, Marianne's jump was more thrilling than dangerous.

She saw Gavinrad. The gryphon ridden by the paladin must be done for, but the Light had saved him once again. He seemed to have activated Divine Shield, and after surviving the momentary blaze, another skilled dwarven rider caught up to the falling Gavinrad and saved him.

Rhonin's gryphon was blown away by the wind, and Falstad could see the dwarven rider ahead struggling to stabilize the gryphon. Though disheveled, there was no immediate danger.

Duke... huh? Where's Duke?!

Vereesa's heart was suddenly seized by fear!

The roar of the dragons in the sky once again drew everyone's attention.

Deathwing and the red dragon were roaring at each other from a distance, each bellow louder than the last.

Seconds later, the two giant dragons collided in mid-air, and at that moment, the entire sky's dark clouds seemed to be swept up by the tempest they had created.

They both bared their claws and lashed at each other with their enormous, lengthy tails, easily more than ten meters long—far more terrifying than any siege hammer!

A hit would obliterate even a small hill in the blink of an eye.

This was not a battle that mere mortals could imagine through the words of wandering poets. The destruction and devastation displayed by the dragons, for a moment, reminded Vereesa of the legendary god of destruction, whose sole purpose was to wreak havoc.