The shine that emanated from Dragarion was rainbow-like, like that of a perfect diamond exposed to brilliant light.
It wasn’t just light; it was power made visible, the essence of seven ancient dragons condensed into the body of a single man. The patterns on his skin, normally platinum and blue-green, now danced with all the colors of the spectrum, creating a living kaleidoscope of primordial power.
Each hue represented a different aspect of dragon essence.
There was an enormous number of spectators, almost 50,000.
The response to the call after the announcement of rewards from the new wealth had been surprisingly effective.
There was a large number of unexpected attackers: the Night Faction of the Starweavers had emerged from their traditional ’neutrality’, the elder Ashenway factions had joined en masse as well, even adding their doubles and also abandoning neutrality, and even dozens of small factions with minor names who hadn’t participated before had answered the call.
"You were right, daughter," Dragarion told Larissa symbolically with a murmur while observing the formations. "Even though it was something relatively simple, it has been very effective."
The trap had worked perfectly. By making the rewards public and tying them to participation, Larissa had forced every fence-sitter to choose sides. Neutrality was no longer an option.
He’d love to kick their asses on the spot, but they could help the attack and Ren wasn’t joking, this was really heavy...
Now, with the power of the dragons flowing through his veins, Dragarion didn’t waste time, remembering the warnings.
"We move now!" his voice resonated with authority that made even the most veteran soldiers straighten immediately.
The command wasn’t just heard... it was felt.
He rose from the ground as if gravity were an optional suggestion, heading directly toward where the broken bridge had been.
The enormous new wall that now separated both territories rose before him.
But it was empty of defenders. Dragarion had already decreed it so, evacuating the zone for what he was about to do.
The foresight was necessary. What was coming would reshape the landscape itself.
When he reached the wall, he extended his hands and the power of the dragons responded instantly.
The control he exercised over the massive structure was absolute. Stone, mineral, and mana bent to his will like clay in the hands of a master artist.
The wall didn’t destroy itself; it transformed.
Matter obeyed his intent rearranging itself according to new designs that existed in his enhanced consciousness.
It tilted, expanded, reinforced itself. The materials that had formed the barrier reconfigured into a bridge wider and more resistant than the previous one.
The new bridge was larger and more resistant than the previous one, so Yano could quickly launch all its high-quality power to punish Yino in a kind of vendetta for the previous attack, and the king could remove it upon return if necessary.
"Incredible!" Victor shouted from his flying position, his aerial beast keeping him aloft while observing the transformation.
"We’re just getting started," Dragarion roared, his voice charged with the urgency of someone who felt the weight of time pressing upon him.
Every second he delayed was another second closer to the point where his body would simply cease to function under the strain.
Without waiting for confirmation, he shot forward like a shooting star, crossing his new bridge at high speed.
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