Beneath the Red Dragon

The hunters, having received reassurance from their leader, immediately sprang into action.

The wild sheep were struck by the hunters’ arrows amidst their wails, collapsing onto the ground, with trickles of fresh blood permeating the earth and staining the misty area.

Engrossed in their slaughter, the hunters failed to notice that the sound of a giant creature splashing through the water within the mist had ceased, and the fog enveloping the valley began to churn slightly, like bubbling in a pot coming to a boil.

”Ah, the stench of fresh blood, life I envy, and the sweet aroma of sincere souls,” uttered a dry, ancient voice from within the mist.

At the moment the voice appeared, the thick mist rolled, and a huge white bony claw extended from it, like an eagle’s talon grabbing a chick, seizing an unsuspecting hunter before retracting back into the fog.

It was only then that the other hunters realized what was happening, screaming in terror, dropping their bows and arrows, and mounting their horses to flee from this haunted place.

Hunter Reggie grasped his longbow, mounted his horse, and simultaneously took out the signal flare, sending it soaring into the sky with a shriek.

Zoom, bang!

The fireworks exploded in the sky, and under its dazzling display, several white bony claws reached out from the mist, clutching at the hunters attempting to flee the valley.

In the moment he was enveloped by the bony claws, the Hunter Leader felt no regret or remorse, only thoughts of his family and loved ones filled his mind.

”Alas,” His final sigh was swallowed by the dense fog of the world.

In the midst of the dense mist stood an abandoned edifice resembling a Gothic cathedral in the valley waters, with an occasional glimpse of a white bone tail swaying ominously beneath the black water, its spines sharp and menacing.

Within this structure, a decayed and tattered body with hollow sockets alight with ghost fire gazed upon a writhing, unyielding soul clutched in its claw, possessing a fierce determination.

”Oh, a peculiar soul, bearing strange power, seemingly resonating with something,” this half-Witch Demon’s indifferent tone betrayed a ripple of surprise.

It expelled the cries of devotion from the soul, such as ”wife, child, giant dragon, beautiful but unfortunate fragments,” and drew its head closer to the soul, beginning to delve into the mystery of this unusual soul.

Indeed, liches and most undead mages are hunted down universally, loathed even by the gods, not only because of their magic and power but also due to their penchant for coveting divine authority and playing with souls.

”It’s calling, praying, but this power is too insignificant, and the entity it’s calling isn’t formidable either; what you’re praying to cannot save you, you pitiful soul,”

The lich’s decayed jaw creaked with derisive laughter; through some soul conduit, it extended its spirit and will, intending to discern the entity to which the soul prayed.

Through countless milages in just an instant, the enigma of the soul unfolded, and in the next moment, the lich’s consciousness beheld its target.

It was a massive Red Dragon, its entire body submerged in searing molten lava; in the dim space, its form afloat and armored, with threatening and majestic dragon horns.

Its broad cranium appeared as if carved by divine spirits, with unparalleled lines and body muscles showcasing the terrifying strength of the Red Dragon.

In the next instant, the Red Dragon abruptly opened its eyes, like a scarlet lightning bolt illuminating the entire space, and a colossal aura arose from it, turning its head to fixate on the approaching lich’s consciousness.

”Not good,” the lich’s awareness was startled, attempting an immediate retreat, but the tremendous dominance emanating from the Red Dragon seized the lich’s consciousness tightly, even as the summons from its form still resonated, yet there was no escape.

Before the lich’s consciousness perished, it only discerned a red claw descending upon it, and a voice traveling along the mental link reached its form.

”You dare to probe my spirit after slaying my kin, little mouse, ponder over your method of death—it’s my only concession to you!” The voice was domineering and overwhelming.

”Huff,” the Witch Demon in the mist had the gall to exhale a breath—an action it had long since forgotten, but now recollected.

”Damn, what kind of monster is this,” the loss of its consciousness disturbed the Witch Demon, ”Mind Mage? No, it resembles, yet lacks a Mind Mage’s strength,”

The ghost fire flickered in the lich’s sockets as it considered whether relocating might be prudent, though the transformation into a Witch Demon was complex, and moving was always troublesome.

Yet from above the valley, a fierce wind noise arrived abruptly, prompting it to lift its gaze, projecting its spirit to assume a spectral form to observe the surrounding commotion.

Whoosh,

A collective resonance from unison wing flaps amplifying the might of the clouded wings, from afar in shooting splendor came four-winged Flying Dragons.

The lich saw one Flying Dragon after another, each carrying knights dancing through the sky, with the vibrant streams of light from their beings enhancing their unimaginable speed, descending in moments to encircle the valley—and it was encircled, too.

A particularly massive Flying Dragon also descended, its crystalline whiskers subtly trembling, emitting invisible sound waves directing all the Flying Dragons.

The female knight seated atop the Flying Dragon, both valiant and fiercely seductive, placed a hand over her heart, slightly bowing in a gesture of nobility.

Then, the female knight laughed loudly, ”Greetings from the Flying Dragon Battle Corps under the command of the Giant Dragon, you little mouse hiding in the gutter!”