CHAPTER 314: CHAPTER 8: CLASH OF DRAGON BREATH

Tonight.

The sky is dark.

The bright moon is obscured by a thin mist.

In Turriados’s mansion.

Losa sits at the desk in the bedroom, fiddling with the rough curved cone in his hand, adorned with exquisite engravings.

This is the new card draw reward, a horn.

The name is straightforward, just like his Five-Star skill template—[Charge] Horn.

Upon sounding the horn, all soldiers’ movement speed increases by ten percent. It lasts for five minutes, with a cooldown period of one hour.

Losa has decided to give it to Ned Stark to use. Only as a military judge can he have the opportunity to observe the battlefield and decide the right moment to sound it.

Prajna, wearing a black long dress, walks into the room carrying a stack of laundry: "Where’s Furin?"

"I’ve sent her to the port for night watch. Jeanne is patrolling the city, and Chelina is with Furin."

"Sent?"

Prajna wrinkles her delicate, high nose. The moonlight streams through the window, and her jet-black hair falls beside her flawless white cheek.

"Do you want to do this now?"

"How could I, I’m not Teddy, I know the priorities."

Losa chuckled dryly, wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind, naturally lifted her garment skirt, reaching upward.

His breath became somewhat heavier, and he said softly:

"Prajna, help me armor up, I have a feeling there’ll be a fierce battle tonight."

Prajna frowned, looked at him disdainfully and resignedly: "Alright, fine."

Losa donned the Dragon Scale Armor, then put on the cloak with Prajna’s help.

This cloak isn’t like the ones in movies, only long at the back.

It’s more like a robe, tied at the front, encasing most of the body, providing warmth and protection from the sun.

His expression suddenly shifted.

The sensitivity to dragons in his bloodline made him aware that the Black Dragon was not far from him.

"Is it coming?"

"Yes, let’s set off."

He took a deep breath, his golden dragon eyes flashed in the darkness then dimmed.

...

Furinjira sits at the top of the port lighthouse, the blazing flame lighting her cheeks slightly red, struggling to stay awake.

"Don’t fall asleep."

"Is it here?"

Furinjira wakes with a start, quickly stands up.

Bam—

"You banged my chin."

"Sorry, Nina."

"No worries... but be more careful next time."

Chelina rubs her chin: "Are you really that sleepy? You’re a princess of the Blood Royal Court, can’t you endure for one night?"

"Used to it, you know."

She hugs Chelina’s arm, gently rocking, mouth slightly open, murmuring "Ah" as Chelina conveniently inserts a chocolate bar.

She shakes the tin box: "You can eat it all, just don’t sleep anymore. The task given by the Lord is important, we can’t neglect our duties."

"Got it."

Furinjira opens the tin box, eating while asking: "Will the enemy really come from the sea?"

Chelina gazes at the empty, misty sea seriously: "It should be that way, they won’t attack the fortified city walls, neglecting the unguarded coastline."

"How long do we have to wait here?"

Furinjira draws her legs up, feeling the warm comfort emanating from the lighthouse top’s stove, displaying an uninterested expression.

"Don’t know, might spend the entire night here."

Chelina opens the window, fresh sea breeze rushes in: "Come breathe the air, stay alert, this time the enemy might not be simple."

...

On Limassol City’s streets, at regular intervals, there are guards holding torches.

On the city walls, the City Guard Army and town militia patrol back and forth.

Turriados, clad in full armor, yawns a bit tiredly. This rotund, indulgent Greek noble has been pretty worn out these days.

Someone grumbles discontentedly: "Seriously, those Franks sleep soundly in their camp, while we’re patrolling the city walls. Aren’t they worried we’ll open the city gates to sell them out?"

"Clearly their battle, yet we seem to be the main show."

"Though I’m willing to work for Her Majesty the Empress, but these Crusaders hired by the Empress, they don’t seem reliable at all."

"Heh, those damned Franks, my brother died in a battle with them. I really don’t understand why the Lord wants to cooperate with them?"

Turriados shivered, his sleepiness completely driven away, and he cursed, "Fool, don’t you know who Isaac is?

The Crusaders only want money, but he wants lives!"

His gaze swept across the soldiers’ faces, full of complaints.

Coldly laughing in his heart, the Crusaders, unreliable as they are, are still better than you!

He recalled the battlefield, those cavalry he had hoped for, crumbling at the first touch.

"Everyone, stay alert. I know many of you hate those Franks, but I must remind you, right now, we are all grasshoppers tied to the same rope with them. Don’t expect those Turkic and Kuman mercenaries under Isaac to show you any mercy."

"Once the city falls, Limassol will become a sea of fire."

He roared with fiery anger, "Cyprus may be large, but behind us is Limassol; we have nowhere to retreat. For the sake of our home, pull yourselves together!"

...

On the sea.

Ships with twin masts and triangular sails, rows of dense oars protruding from the lower deck, quickly approached the port.

Although called small warships, each vessel could carry one hundred and sixty rowers.

In the early days, the Empire and naval powers like Genoa and Venice used citizens as rowers.

This allowed their galley ships to exhibit stronger combat power during boarding battles.

Unfortunately, now the Empire’s navy, like its army, has replaced many rowers on warships with foreigners, even slaves.

Behind them were wide-bellied Kirk ships, loaded with fully armed soldiers, their Kuman and Turkic nomadic cavalry carrying only secondary bows and arrows due to the sea attack.

Such a massive landing couldn’t be hidden from the city.

Soon, urgent copper bell sounds rang out in the port.

The farmer soldiers specially stationed at the port by Losa began to array, using previously set barriers on main roads for defense.

With a loud crash.

The first warship charged ashore like that; sailors and rowers on board brandished daggers and small round shields, charging at the positions.

Swish—

Arrows and crossbow bolts flew.

The town militia of Limassol City began shooting at these sailors, armed mostly with leather armor, quickly felling a swath.

The sea water turned red.

But as time passed, more and more soldiers under Isaac landed at the port.

The Turkic and Kuman soldiers, skilled in archery, began shooting at Limassol town militia hiding in the residences, though their results were limited, they suppressed the reckless shooters.

Whoosh—

Almost at the same time.

A dozen Kumans serving as temporary foot archers were shot down, strong arrows piercing through, leaving only arrow tails in their chests.

"Eagle shooters?"

The Kuman riders became alert, finding cover, not daring to recklessly stand and shoot.

Losa’s woodland archers began their prowess, their outstanding archery enhanced with night vision and group bloodfall, boosting their combat power almost equal to official woodland elf archers.

In this darkness, they were like black reapers, wantonly harvesting enemy lives one by one.

Especially among the enemy ranks, those specially equipped officers became their primary targets to kill.

Isaac sat on the Black Dragon’s back, the special dragon saddle insulating him from the searing scales.

A shadow behind him seemed like a second person standing.

"Look, this city is still so orderly; they must have sided with that Losa."

"A bunch of rebels."

Isaac displayed a ruthless smile, "I’ll set this city ablaze, showing everyone the consequences of betraying me."

"Right, that’s how it should be, punish the rebels and demonstrate your majesty to all, that’s what an emperor should do."

The shadow emitted a sinister laugh.

Isaac’s eyes flashed with disdain; so someone could genuinely emit a "kekeke" laugh... no, this thing wasn’t even human.

Sooner or later, I’ll rid myself of you, monster!

He repressed the loathing in his heart, commanding the Black Dragon beneath the saddle to swoop toward the city below.

"Burn them!"

The Black Dragon raised its head, letting out a gratifying roar, the massive mouth full of fierce fangs gathering deep black dragon flame, then like a heavenly punitive light column, sweeping towards the city below with overwhelming might.

"Damn bastard."

Losa furrowed his brow, the Dragon Descendant bloodline within him mixed with Earth Dragon, Fusion Monster, Sea Dragon, and Tyrannical Dragon, surging fully like a river rushing through his veins.

Dense black scales spread from his chest, covering his neck and cheeks.

He opened his mouth.

The terrifying high temperature distorted the surrounding air in an instant.

In the next moment, a dragon flame shot skyward.