Tale of the Red Dragon Without Dragon's Might-Chapter 33 - Slaughter
33: Chapter 33 Slaughter
33 -33 Slaughter
Cultists couldn’t figure out how chasing after a killer of Gnolls turned into chasing a Red Dragon.
A Red Dragon isn’t perched high atop a mountain, or even asleep in the Molten River, it would at least rest in a hot spring emitting rolling heat waves; what’s it doing just lying down in a random stream…
Could this be some sort of trap for the warband?
This particular Red Dragon even weirdly stood up, god knows where it found a sword, and it even seemed to know how to use it.
A Red Dragon Warrior wielding weapons, or perhaps a Barbarian?
For a moment, the cultist felt like it would be more realistic if the Demon Lord Yenogu suddenly appeared before him from the Bottomless Abyss.
He wanted to say something, but suddenly didn’t know where to start.
Ah-ba-ah-ba-ah-ba.
“How come, not talking anymore?”
Leon had already seen, the Gnolls Warband surrounding him had no Flind Gnolls, nor any other special creatures.
Like the Blood Beast, a monster passionate about torturing and devouring humans, assembled from a giant badger’s head, deer legs, and the body of a giant hyena; or a Shoosuva, a spotted hyena-shaped demon.
Even with those creatures, he wouldn’t care at all; he could fly, fight if he wanted, or leave if he preferred.
Just wanted to soak in some water and enjoy the sun with eyes squinted, never expected to be disturbed… In a way, it’s probably morning grumpiness, Leon’s mood wasn’t great, and he knew all too well that trying to communicate with Gnolls meant ending up in their stomachs the fastest.
Thus, without waiting for the cultist to speak, Leon raised his sword.
It was then that the cultist finally reacted, realizing that battle was inevitable.
Holding a Three-headed flail pointing at Leon, he said, “Kill him.”
“Kill him and sacrifice him to Lord Yenogu.” Yenogu Poison Fang started howling.
All the Gnolls started howling.
Leon chopped down the nearest Gnolls Scavenger with one swing of his sword.
Once he stood, he couldn’t move, and couldn’t reach those a bit further.
A rain of arrows shot by the Gnolls Hunters.
Those bows picked up from villagers, paired with the most ordinary arrowheads, not even sharpened, even at full draw, couldn’t penetrate the hard scales on Leon’s body… If they stood in front of Leon, because the scales on his throat weren’t as hard, that might cause some damage, too bad they were standing around.
White Dragon was a bit foolish; other dragons are only smarter than humans.
Dragons don’t use Spit Weapon for an initial strike, then charge forward to engage the enemy with bare claws against naked blades; even the strongest dragons would quickly be reduced to a stack of stinking, scaled meat.
Leon, with a human soul, was only more cautious.
The reason was simple – humans actually have very strong combat ability, but everyone else keeps saying they’re no match for wolves, dogs, or even a goose, because in human belief, getting injured means losing.
A single Gnolls is not worth mentioning, but a Gnolls Warband still deserves respect.
Seeing Gnolls Warriors charging holding pitchforks, Leon immediately spread his wings and flew.
Annis Hag has ways to deal with Leon’s flying, but these Gnolls don’t have any other method except continuously shooting arrows at him.
Leon circled in the air, then landed on the roof of a mill.
Dragons rely not on magic for flight, but thanks to their unique anatomical structures and metabolism.
Dragons’ weight is much less than other creatures of the same size, yet their muscles are exceptionally strong.
Hence, Leon looks big, but isn’t as heavy as one might imagine, making it possible for him to stand on the mill roof without crashing through it.
Perching high and looking down at the Gnolls, Leon threw his sword up, with a shout of “Go,” manipulating the Flying Sword to constantly reap the heads of those Gnolls, starting with those remote Gnolls Hunters.
The cultist watched this scene with a twisted expression and…
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some bafflement, confusion.
He had never seen such a bizarre battle in his life; could this Red Dragon also be a Priest, otherwise why would a “Spiritual Body Weapon” suddenly appear?
“Charge, charge now,” he was shouting now.
Apart from the Gnolls Hunter who flung Leon from afar, all the other Gnolls swarmed the mill, trying to climb onto the roof.
Leon had no choice but to summon back his Flying Sword, gripping the hilt to behead the warriors climbing first, their heads rolled to the ground with a thud.
Yenogu Poison Fang too, charged over.
It was smarter, knowing to avoid Leon’s sight as it climbed the mill, but it was bound to be noticed.
Yenogu Poison Fang was strong, requiring Leon to swing combined with bites, and finally a tail strike…
Only then could it be knocked down from the mill.
Leon didn’t keep track of how many Gnolls he had chopped down, chopping joyfully, only to see a Cultist approach him, raising the Three-headed flail pointing at him.
“Red Dragon, dare you face me in direct combat?”
A hot pot meal was enough for him to call him father-in-law, who knows how shameless Leon really was, laughing loudly at that moment: “I dare not.”
Not expecting Leon to respond that way, the Cultist’s expression turned ugly.
“Cowardly reptile.” The Cultist’s expression darkened, his strong chest heaving twice, he spat towards Leon.
Of course, he was far from the Red Dragon; the spit never reached.
Leon was unfazed, being advantageously positioned he steadied himself, moreover chuckling, “I’ve only heard of being a dog, never heard of a dog’s dog.”
Leon was untouched, but the Cultist was somewhat unsettled: “You dare insult Lord Yenogu.”
“I’m just insulting you.”
“You’d better never come down.”
Leon didn’t respond to the Cultist, as he had to deal with Yenogu Poison Fang climbing up the mill again, this time finishing it off with a single sword strike.
The Gnolls were nearly all slain, the survivors had no fighting power left; excitedly, Leon jumped down from the mill, stood in front of the Cultist, and said, “The direct combat you were looking forward to is here.”
Indeed a follower of Yenogu, the Cultist licked his lips and chose not to flee, roaring loudly.
A faint bloody glow surrounded him as he grasped the Three-headed flail and lunged at Leon.
What met him was Leon raising his hand, casting an immobilization spell.
The Cultist didn’t shout about friendship, bonds, future, or anything; it’s without question he wasn’t a match for much stronger Leon.
“I’m not just skilled with a sword.” Leon watched as the Cultist’s right hand wielding the Three-headed flail flew up.
“Why?” The Cultist knew he had lost, “Why attack us?”
“You attacked me first.” Leon was genuinely innocent, “It was true before, it is true now too.”
Hearing this, the Cultist coughed up two mouthfuls of blood.
Initially dying without knowing the truth was one thing, but the Red Dragon had no need to deceive.
Indeed, he needed to find the culprits this time, then leading the warband to challenge the Red Dragon.
“You destroyed a village, adventurers would have come for you sooner or later… Consider it a bit earlier,” Leon “comforted” with those words, stabbing his sword into the Cultist’s chest, twisting his wrist to mash the Cultist’s heart.
Is it over?
Not yet, it’s just begun.
“This must be a Magic Weapon.”
Leon picked up the Cultist’s Three-headed flail, flicking off the severed hand still gripping the handle.