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Chapter 450 Clash Of Ice And Fire
Just as Drakar smiled menacingly upon seeing the tip of his dagger about to pierce Rowena’s heart, his eyes widened when she suddenly raised her hand.
Rowena’s swift reaction took Drakar aback as her deft maneuver caused his dagger to plunge into her shoulder instead of her heart. Drakar’s brows raised in disbelief, not understanding her ploy until the blood that seeped from her wound erupted into fierce, consuming flames.
“Yargh!” The intense crimson fire spread rapidly, engulfing his arm and eliciting a primal growl of pain from him as he instinctively recoiled.
“Your insignificant experience can never match up to the instincts of my forefathers,” Rowena declared, her voice cold and heavy as she delivered a powerful kick to Drakar’s chest. The force of her strike resonated through the air, a shockwave rippling outward as Drakar was sent hurtling backward. His body carved a long, devastating path through the earth, the ground crumbling beneath the sheer force of her attack.
Yet, Drakar’s resilience was not to be underestimated. His jet-black wings unfurled magnificently, beating against the inferno that sought to consume him, quelling the flames and stabilizing his form. He rose from the wreckage, anger seething in his eyes, a tempest brewing within. It was an affront to his pride, a challenge to his reign, to be outmaneuvered by someone of her youth, let alone a Drake.
In that critical moment, Drakar’s gaze fell upon Asher’s limp form, being carefully secured within the carriage by Naida. His lips twisted into a smirk, a dark stratagem forming in his mind, “Grab that alien!” he barked at Lysandra, his command cutting through the tense air, “I will take care of her on my own,” He added as his gaze shifted back to Rowena.
Lysandra realized this was the perfect opportunity. Naida and that Bloodborn Guard were in a weakened state, and she could easily grab Asher and leave on the pretext of hiding Asher until Drakar was done dealing with Rowena.
Rowena’s heart clenched at the sight of Asher’s motionless body. Fear and concern flooded her senses as she wondered why he was still here. But knowing him, she didn’t have to guess further.
But as Lysandra’s form vanished into thin air, Rowena didn’t have the time to drown in her worry and knew she had to stop her before she got close to Asher.
Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest as she propelled herself towards the carriage, her determination unwavering despite the obstacles that lay in her path. However, her advance was abruptly halted as the fabric of space itself seemed to ripple and contort, revealing Drakar in her trajectory. With a powerful beat of his steel-like wings, he sent her crashing to the ground with tremendous force.
Undeterred, Rowena rose from the dust, her gaze locking with Drakar’s smug expression, “You are going to die in vain by trying to save someone whose fate is sealed,” he taunted, his smirk brimming with confidence.
But the skies above betrayed his triumph, as a sudden cascade of flames engulfed him as the majestic figure of Flaralis soared above him.
Drakar reappeared at a safe distance, visibly scorched and seething with rage, fortunate to have escaped by a hair’s breadth.
His eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in the charred remains of Lorvo and his 1000-man strong contingent, a grim reminder of the true might of Rowena’s dragon. But it only made him feel even more determined to kill it as fast as possible.
Meanwhile, Naida stood protectively before the carriage, her usually vibrant face now ashen and drained after trying to alleviate Asher’s pain again.
Mana reserves depleted, she mustered every ounce of her strength, her words a clear warning to Lysandra who appeared before her, “Don’t you dream of getting anywhere near him.” Beside her, Eradicator, equally weary, raised her heavy sword, ready to defend at any cost. Her mana reserves were also almost extinguished after trying to get the king back home as fast as possible.
Lysandra, unfazed by their defiance, conjured fiery orbs that surged towards them, their searing heat making both Naida and Eradicator flinch even from a distance.
The two women were flung backward, their grunts of pain piercing the air as the relentless flames began to ravage their bodies like a paper catching fire.
“Vampires like you two should know better than to face me,” Lysandra stated coldly, her attention swiftly redirecting towards the carriage housing the unconscious Asher.
With every fiber of her being focused on saving Asher, Rowena reached the spot where Lysandra stood, who was about to get close to the carriage. But Rowena furrowed her brows upon seeing Naida and Eradicator lay writhing in agony, their bodies enveloped in merciless flames. They would definitely die if those flames ravaged them for a minute longer.
Without hesitation, Rowena extinguished the fire, her swift intervention saving them and their lives from further torment.
However, this momentary distraction proved costly as Lysandra, seizing the opportunity, ensnared Rowena with chains wrought from dark red flames. The fiery bonds bit into her flesh, but Rowena’s resolve remained unshaken. Her muscles tensed, and she began to exert her strength, the chains groaning under the pressure, beginning to fracture and break.
But it was Lysandra’s chilling words that halted Rowena’s struggle, “You can’t have him until I am done with him.” With a flick of her wrist, Lysandra flung Rowena away, her figure vanishing into a dark red portal that manifested out of nowhere before vanishing.
As Rowena shattered the fiery chains, she found herself plummeting toward Drakar from the other end of the portal, his mocking laughter ringing in her ears, “You never learn, do you?”
Enraged and desperate, Rowena raised herself as she called out, “Flaralis!”
The ground trembled under Flaralis’s wrathful roar as it charged towards its target.
But Drakar’s sinister smile revealed his anticipation of her move, “I knew you might show up with your dragon while I was busy hunting down your precious king. That is why I made preparations before I left.”
In an instant, the battlefield transformed. Space itself seemed to warp and bend as an intimidating armada of 10 draconian warships materialized from thin air, their cannons and all sorts of weapons aimed at the heart of the battle. Alongside them, a swarm of 5,000 draconian warriors astride fearsome flying beasts took to the skies, their presence a dark omen of the impending storm.
Before Rowena could react, the air was torn asunder by the thunderous roar of cannons. A barrage of projectiles, each a harbinger of destruction, rained down upon Flaralis. Flaralis, caught off guard, reeled back, its roar of pain echoing across the barren landscape as it shielded itself against the relentless assault using its wings.
Rowena’s heart clenched at the sight of her dragon’s agony, her fists trembling with cold rage and unease. She knew each of these projectiles was powerful enough to kill a mid-level Soul Devourer in one or two shots.
This was what she feared the most. Unable to get Asher to safety because of the draconians bringing out their strongest weapons. Their army and their weapons were what made them a nightmare for everyone in this realm.
Her eyes locked with Drakar’s, who stood confidently amidst the chaos, his voice cutting through the tumult, “Now…are you going to surrender, or are you going to die for nothing?”
The battlefield of chaos and destruction seemed to freeze for a moment as Rowena’s gaze shifted back to the carriage, her heart pounding with a single, all-consuming focus—Asher’s safety. The carriage door was wrenched away with ruthless force by Lysandra, revealing Asher’s vulnerable, unconscious form within. The sight of his weakened state sent a shiver of dread through Rowena, though all her exits were surrounded by draconians.
But in that instant, the air crackled with latent power, a sudden shift that drew every eye to the unfolding scene. Before Lysandra could even comprehend the threat, she was forced to evade a barrage of bloody spike crystals, their sharp edges glistening with lethal intent. With reflexes honed in countless battles, she reappeared a safe distance away, her gaze locking onto the source of the attack.
Emerging from the settling haze, a feminine figure took her stand near the carriage. The woman exuded an aura of menacing grace.
Her silver hair cascaded like a waterfall of moonlight, framing a face marked by eerie red eyes that burned with darkness.
Her gown, a masterpiece of black fabric adorned with intricate dragon embroidery, wrapped firmly around her voluptuous figure.
Lysandra, her brows furrowing, addressed the newcomer, “Rebecca Drake…I wasn’t expecting to see you here now,” she uttered, her words hanging heavy in the charged air.
Rebecca’s response was a venomous scoff, a sound that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath them, “You draconian bitch…Did you really imprison my son?” she hissed, her voice a blend of wrath and raw maternal fury. Lysandra, her posture unyielding, her expression as cold and hard as ice, responded with a chilling indifference, “What if I did?” The air around her seemed to grow colder, her presence an unmovable force.
The revelation struck Rebecca like a physical blow, her eyes trembling with a tempest of emotions. She initially thought Asher contacted her out of nowhere to mess with her. But to think that he was really telling the truth…
But her voice was steady, laced with a deadly promise, “You give him back to me now, or I will suck every drop of blood from your body and let some wretched dogs feast on your dried corpse.”
But Lysandra’s retort was as frigid as the deepest winter, her words cutting through the air like shards of ice, “I was planning to end his misery soon. But your flimsy threat only makes me want to extend your son’s stay in my dungeon—not that you would live to see it.” Flames, dark and menacing, erupted from her hands.
Hearing Lysandra’s words, Rebecca suddenly burst into laughter, which sounded dark and foreboding, filling the air.
But the next moment, her laughter died down as the air transformed into a chilling silence punctuated by her eerie, dark smile, “Bitch, I heard your precious youngest son had his flesh carved out like a pathetic dog before he died to someone weaker and younger than him. It’s a pity he isn’t alive to see how I am going to do the same to his mother.”
Saying so, Rebecca shot towards Lysandra with her fangs extended and her eyes filled with killing intent.
Lysandra, whose face had remained calm, suddenly shook with fury upon hearing her words as her figure also became a blur of speed and power, emanating an aura of implacable fury.
The very earth beneath them seemed to tremble in anticipation as these two terrifyingly powerful women collided in a maelstrom of wrath and retribution.
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