In the past, the fall of an Archmage or Sword Saint—an event that would once have caused a considerable stir—was no longer surprising here. The invincible reputation of Dragon Knights had likewise faded into obscurity. Almost every month, at least one Dragon Knight and their dragon mount would perish on the battlefield, either slain by an opponent of equal strength or, if wounded and unfortunate enough to fall into enemy hands, would be overwhelmed and killed by waves of light infantry—soldiers they would never have even glanced at before—at the cost of massive casualties. The saying “many ants can kill an elephant” had living proof here.

Of the nearly one hundred and five registered Dragon Knights in the Sutherland Empire, sixty-one had been deployed to the battlefield of the Heller Central Mountains, while the remaining forty-four stayed in the imperial capital to guard the palace. In contrast to the Sutherland Empire, the Texley Empire had only a scant dozen or so Dragon Knights. Their only force capable of rivaling the Sutherland Empire was a contingent of over six hundred Griffon Knights and Thunderhawk Knights. Although individually not as powerful as dragons, their strength lay in their numbers and the exquisite coordination of their battle formations.

Woooo...

Atop a peak of the Heller Mountain Central Range, rising above the snow line and shrouded in ice and snow for countless millennia, a strange and hauntingly beautiful, sharp and lingering sound echoed.

A figure clad in black armor, lips pressed to a bizarre short flute over seven inches long, stood at the summit. The blade-like, biting cold wind lashed against the black mysterious steel armor that protected him from head to toe. The crimson cloak on his back snapped in the wind like a battle flag. In the void above his head, ripples spread like water, and from within emerged a monstrous beast: crowned with sharp dragon horns, its body covered in dense, steel-like scales, and a pair of enormous wings unfurled as it tore through the sky.

“Roar...” A mighty roar, symbolizing supreme authority, exploded in the air more than a hundred meters above the peak.

The tangible shockwave of the furious roar rippled outward like water, sweeping away the lingering white mist that shrouded the summit. The neighboring peaks, shaken by the deafening roar, saw their ancient snow loosen and tumble down, spreading and amplifying into an even more earth-shattering avalanche.

A young metallic dragon, less than a thousand years old, revealed its fearsome form in the air. Its body, over ten meters long, showed no clumsiness as it circled the summit. Without any sign of slowing, it abruptly folded its wings and dove toward the peak. Yet, as it neared the layers of ice and snow as hard as refined steel, it let out a low dragon’s cry and suddenly hovered in midair for a split second before crashing heavily onto the summit. Snowflakes and ice crystals billowed upward, striking ice and exposed rock with crackling sounds, nearly causing the peak to collapse.

This sudden, strange hovering effect was unique to metallic dragons—a void magnetic field that could generate anti-gravity, supporting their massive bodies, rivaling even earth dragons. This ability was an innate talent of nearly every metallic dragon; without it, ordinary ground could never bear their immense weight, and a single step would sink them into the earth as if stepping into tofu, like falling into natural quicksand.

The dragon flute, over seven inches long, was the symbol of the bond between a Dragon Knight and their loyal dragon companion. Ten thousand years ago, sages of the dragon and human races forged an ancient alliance to resist extraterrestrial invaders, combining the power of dragons with human ingenuity to their fullest. Each dragon flute was crafted by alchemists and artisans from both races, using precious materials and wondrous techniques.

Once a dragon and a Dragon Knight signed a knight’s contract through the dragon flute, the dragon would gain access to an eternal resting space and the ability to respond to summons by tearing through space. The dragon could rest and recuperate within, and at the sound of the flute, emerge from the space or instantly arrive at the Dragon Knight’s location from afar.

Besides being a symbol of the contract, the dragon flute also served as a spatial coordinate and a magical living storage artifact.

Each dragon flute had its own unique sound, so every dragon bound by a knight’s contract could only hear the distinct melody of their own knight’s flute.

This metallic dragon looked like a weaponized beast bristling with sharp blades. Its wings resembled countless swords fused together, and its naturally formed metallic armor protected every part and joint of its body. Even the most skilled human master craftsmen could not forge such exquisite and formidable armor, let alone the mysterious black patterns crisscrossing its surface. Its claws were as sharp as divine weapons, effortlessly shattering ancient ice as hard as refined steel. Its horns seemed to harbor a latent thunderous power, occasionally crackling with electricity. A bloody aura of slaughter hung around it like something tangible, and its bowl-sized, crimson, vertical pupils glared fiercely at the knight before it, as if ready to pounce and tear him to pieces at any moment.

“Gold Coin! How is your recovery coming along?” From beneath the secret-armor helmet that covered his entire head—leaving only a slit for his eyes and a cross-shaped gap from which thick white breath escaped—a young man’s voice sounded, seemingly unconcerned by the dragon’s blatant hostility and even ill intent toward him.