180: ambush

The Ailan Empire is located on the vastest plain of the southern continent of Mana Star, a human nation that reveres martial power and expansion.

The noon sun scorched the earth mercilessly, and high in the sky, a hundred meters up, a massive crimson shadow was passing by, casting a heart-stopping sense of oppression.

Although the Red Dragon Klaus Difan was as docile as a pug in front of Ilya, to the mortals on the ground, it remained a hegemon of the sky that brought destruction and disaster.

Its massive body, with a wingspan of nearly thirty meters, glided through the air currents, each flap of its wings seeming to be accompanied by thunder.

"My Lady, that is the border defense line of the Ailan Empire ahead. As long as we cross this area and fly another two thousand kilometers north, we will enter the Central Plateau."

Klaus Difan said, looking back cautiously, trying to curry favor with the young girl resting on its back with her eyes closed.

Ilya was lying in the crevice between two large scales on the dragon's back, a place that was sheltered from the wind and stable.

Her hands were pillowed behind her head, her long silver hair spread out, and her breathing was steady, as if she were taking a nap.

For a bionic body, sleep is not necessary, but it helps organize the massive amount of data cache accumulated over the past few days.

"Hmm..." Ilya let out a lazy nasal sound without even opening her eyes.

However, right in the middle of this seemingly peaceful journey, an air of slaughter suddenly rose from the ground.

Whoosh—

Without any warning, the air below was torn apart, and a shrill whistle, like the call of the Grim Reaper, instantly pierced the sky.

It was the distinct sound of some kind of heavy mechanical ballista firing, accompanied by a teeth-grinding metallic vibration.

"What is that?!"

As a magical beast, its instinct made Klaus Difan's scales stand on end instantly. It subconsciously performed a violent tactical evasion, its massive body rolling sideways in the air, attempting to dodge the sneak attack from a blind spot.

This dodge indeed saved its life; several black shadows with a cold glint grazed its abdomen—they were several heavy ballista bolts, three meters long and made entirely of refined steel.

However, this dodge also caused a huge disaster.

Ilya, who had been in standby sleep mode, had her bionic body's magnetic adsorption system in low-power mode to save energy. Combined with Klaus Difan's violent roll, the massive centrifugal force threw her out like a ragdoll.

Whoosh—

The silver-haired girl's figure instantly left the dragon's back, free-falling toward the ground.

"Huh?"

Ilya opened her eyes wide in mid-air, a flash of astonishment in her crimson pupils, which was immediately replaced by the anger caused by being woken up.

"You stupid dragon!"

Hum!

The micro-anti-gravity generator inside her body began to output power, and her falling figure stopped abruptly in mid-air, as if inertia did not exist.

Ilya adjusted her posture in the air and hovered again, her silver hair dancing wildly in the gale, her delicate little face clearly expressing "I am very annoyed."

She raised her head and looked at the Red Dragon, which was darting around in the sky like a frightened sparrow, just about to open her mouth to question it.

"My Lady! Look out! There is an ambush below!"

Klaus Difan's panicked dragon roar came, followed immediately by that heart-stopping sound of snapping bowstrings from the ground again.

Twang! Twang! Twang!

This time it was not just a few probing shots, but a dense rain of arrows.

Dozens of specially made heavy bolts called "Dragon-Hunting Ballista Bolts" tore through the air, carrying visible white shockwaves. They were not only aimed at the Red Dragon, but some were even aimed at Ilya, who was hovering in mid-air.

Ilya frowned slightly; she did not dodge.

When a heavy bolt, as thick as an arm with an arrowhead glowing with a ghostly blue anti-magic light, whistled toward her face, she just raised her right hand casually.

Slap.

A crisp sound.

The heavy bolt, which carried enough kinetic energy to pierce a city wall, was caught steadily in mid-air by a slender, fair little hand. The immense kinetic energy didn't even make her arm tremble, as if she had caught nothing more than a light feather.

"Initial velocity 850 meters per second, kinetic energy is about... hmm, not bad, for a cold weapon."

Ilya's data eyes instantly analyzed the weapon in her hand.

"Alloy shaft, the arrowhead is plated with some kind of special metal, and it's also etched with a wind-element acceleration magic circle and armor-piercing runes... This is specifically designed to deal with large, high-armor creatures."

She casually crushed the expensive ballista bolt into a lump of scrap metal and cast her gaze toward the ground.

On the rolling hill position, an army of about five hundred men was operating in an orderly manner.

They were wearing uniform black and red standard armor; they were the elite legion of the Ailan Empire. In the center of the position, twenty menacingly shaped heavy ballistae were being reloaded amidst the sound of soldiers turning winches.

"Interesting, an ambush?" Ilya sneered. "Are these dragon slayers?"

Just as she was about to go down and teach these people a lesson, a shrill, miserable scream suddenly came from the sky.

"Awoooo!!!"

Ilya looked up sharply, only to see Klaus Difan rolling in the air in pain.

A huge heavy bolt had precisely pierced the root of its left wing, and bright Red Dragon blood was raining down.

If it were just physical damage, it wouldn't be fatal given a dragon's recovery ability, but that arrow clearly carried targeted magic.

Eerie blue electric arcs spread from the wound, quickly covering the Red Dragon's entire body. It was a combination of a "No-Fly Magic Circle" and "Mana Disruption Spell," specifically used to paralyze the flow of mana within a magical beast.

"My wings! My mana! I... I can't fly anymore!"

Klaus Difan discovered in terror that its proud flight ability was rapidly disappearing, and its massive body began to glide and fall toward the ground uncontrollably.

"Help! My Lady, save me!"

Watching the massive beast fall in such a sorry state, the army on the ground erupted into cheers.

"It's a hit! We hit it!"

"Quick! Spread out! Don't get crushed by it!"

"Prepare the nets and chains! It's a Red Dragon! Its whole body is a treasure trove!"

The five hundred soldiers spread out in a well-trained manner, forming a huge encirclement around the predicted crash point.

At the very front of the position, five figures stood motionless.

They were not wearing the standard armor like the regular soldiers but were each wearing equipment with vastly different styles, exuding the aura of powerful individuals.

They were like hunters watching prey fall into a trap, with calm and excited smiles on their faces.

"Looks like a newly matured Red Dragon. Good luck."

The speaker was a burly man with a sturdy build; he carried a tower shield almost as tall as himself and held a massive war hammer in his hand.

He was the "Guardian" of the team, named Rog.

"Although it's a pity it's not an Ancient Dragon, for a Red Dragon of this size, the dragon scales and dragon blood are already priceless."

The one who replied was a woman wearing deep blue mage robes, holding a ruby staff. Her eyes shone with greed. "Especially the dragon heart; that is the main ingredient for making high-tier mana potions."

"Don't be careless. A dragon's final retaliation before death is very terrifying."

A voice, cold and sinister, came from a blurry figure in the shadows. He was playing with two poisoned daggers in his hands; he was the assassin of the team.

"May the Holy Light guide its soul, of course, after we take its body," said a beautiful woman wearing pure white priest robes with a holy emblem hanging on her chest.

And standing in the very middle was a handsome man with short golden hair, wearing lightweight mithril armor, leaning on a giant two-handed sword with both hands.

He exuded a faint aura of pressure; it was the sign of someone about to break through the limits of mortals and step into the Legendary realm.

He was the captain of this team, Gareth, who belonged to [Dawn].

"Prepare for battle; this is wealth delivered to our doorstep." Gareth pulled out the greatsword stuck in the ground, pointing the blade directly at the falling dragon. "This is the first dragon-hunting commission [Dawn] has received; let's make it look good!"

[Dawn] was a famous Mithril-level adventurer party in the Ailan Empire and even the entire southern continent.

They had completed countless high-difficulty commissions and slain many ferocious magical beasts.

Their goal was only one: to complete the so-called Path of Legends—by constantly challenging themselves, to let all members ascend to the legendary status of legendary powerhouses.

And today, a lone Red Dragon was the best prey in their eyes.

Boom!!!

Just as they were talking, Klaus Difan finally crashed heavily onto the ground.

Although it had managed to mobilize a little mana at the last moment to cushion the fall, avoiding the tragedy of landing head-first, the massive impact still left it dazed and confused. It plowed a deep trench dozens of meters long into the ground, smashing countless rocks and trees before finally coming to a stop.

Smoke and dust billowed, and gravel flew everywhere.

Klaus Difan groaned in pain; it felt like all the bones in its body were falling apart, especially the wound on its wing. The pain of having its mana flow blocked made it almost unable to breathe.

It raised its head with difficulty and, through the pervasive dust, saw the five figures walking slowly toward it not far away.

As a "learned dragon" that had robbed countless human caravans and heard countless stories circulating in human society, it recognized these banes of existence at a glance.

"Damn it... it's [Dawn]!"

Klaus Difan's heart instantly sank; it had seen the portraits of these people on wanted posters or hero boards when it used to rob caravans.

They were true human powerhouses.

"It's over, it's over... this time I'm really going to turn into dragon steak..."

Fear made Klaus Difan instinctively want to retreat, but its injured wing and chaotic mana made it difficult even to stand up.

"This dragon seems to be badly injured." The assassin's voice drifted in the wind like a ghost. "Its left wing is ruined, and its mana circuits are sealed."

"Then let's make it quick!" Gareth shouted, his whole body erupting with a dazzling wave of white energy. This power, known as Battle Aura, was also a form of Psionic energy. "Rog, hold the line! Alice (Mage), restrict its movements! Everyone else, follow me!"

"Yes!"

This well-coordinated team launched their attack instantly.

The Guardian Rog raised his giant shield and charged toward the dragon's head like a tank, an earthy yellow defensive aura lighting up on his body. The Mage Alice waved her staff, and several "Earth Bind" magic circles lit up beneath the Red Dragon, attempting to lock its limbs.

Just at this critical moment.

Whoosh—

A strange sound of wind came from overhead.

It was not the roar of a massive object falling, but an extremely slight yet incomparably sharp sound of something piercing the air.

"Hmm?"

As a half-step Legendary, Gareth had the sharpest senses; he stopped abruptly and looked up.

He saw, above the billowing dust, a red and white streak of light descending vertically at a speed that defied the laws of physics.

Thud!

A dull yet highly penetrating impact sound rang out in front of the Red Dragon's massive head.

The ground trembled slightly.

The smoke and dust were instantly blown away by an invisible wave of air, revealing the scene inside.

There, in front of the massive Red Dragon, an extra figure had appeared.

It was a human girl who looked only in her teens.

She had long silver hair as dazzling as moonlight and was wearing a white robe of a strange style.

She stood there quietly, her feet not sinking into the soil but hovering a few centimeters above the ground.

She had one hand in her pocket, and in the other, she was holding that lump of heavy ballista bolt that had been crumpled into scrap metal.

Those crimson eyes swept coldly over the five adventurers in front of her; there was not a hint of fear in her gaze, only the impatience of someone whose journey had been interrupted.

"You..."

Ilya's voice carried suppressed anger.

"So you're the ones who shot down my driver, right?"