Chapter 220: Ascending to Heaven and Diving into the Sea

Mounting the dragon's back in such a fashion was, naturally, a gamble with death for Ronin.

Though a fall from a height of thirty meters would not quite suffice to kill him, the dragon could soar into the higher reaches of the sky at any given moment.

Thirty meters was survivable; three hundred meters was a far more dubious proposition.

Yet opportunity ever coexisted with crisis.

Such a dragon possessed a fatal allure for Ronin,

lest it be forgotten that within his spatial ring lay a contract scroll, resting quietly, won as a reward from his seven-day login.

A dragon, a creature of myth; no magical beast stood higher in the grand hierarchy.

If he could bind it as his own contracted beast, it would be an immense stroke of fortune for Ronin.

Faced with such a chance, Ronin resolved to stake everything on a single throw of the dice.

Of course, he had not scrambled onto the dragon's back blindly, without forethought.

First, from the very moment of its appearance, though the dragon had manifested immense power and awe, a careful listening and observation revealed that its voice betrayed exhaustion and weakness.

Second, the sixth-tier fire magic, Fire Dragon Devouring the Heavens, had not only reversed the creature's own fiery breath and slain Natalia, but had also inflicted considerable damage upon the dragon itself.

Had the beast been at the height of its power, it should have remained entirely unscathed by the fading remnants of that spell.

Ronin judged that this dragon had not yet reached the zenith of its lifespan; its current strength likely hovered only around the fifth or sixth tier.

Finally, even if Ronin were hurled from the heavens by the dragon, given the proper maneuvers, he still stood a fair chance of survival.

Risks there were, but in the face of a weakened, fifth- or sixth-tier dragon, he deemed it a wager well worth making.

In truth, many of Ronin's deductions were quite correct.

As for its tier of strength, Carlos was indeed merely a fifth-tier dragon at present, and it was undeniably in a state of exhaustion.

This was chiefly owing to its confinement here since the very day of its birth.

Over the years, it had never once eaten its fill, and it was frequently enslaved by Natalia's horn, leaving its constitution and spirit perpetually withered.

In the recent clash, one frost breath and two bouts of dragon-fire had already consumed the greater part of its draconic power and energy.

Yet, though it was now utterly spent, its heart was filled with a profound joy.

Its ruse had succeeded.

In truth, from the moment Carlos emerged from the cavern, it had been seeking an opportunity to flee this place.

Once it became clear that this swarm of crawling insects could dispatch Natalia, it had simply been biding its time.

When it witnessed Ronin unleash that ferocious fire spell, it knew its hour had arrived.

At the absolute final moment, Carlos had withheld nearly fifty to sixty percent of its dragon-fire's might, luring Natalia to her doom.

Free at last!

Imprisoned for uncounted ages, it was finally free this day!

Yet Carlos's joy was short-lived, for it discovered with sudden horror that the human on the ground, the one who had used the scroll, had somehow appeared upon its very back!

For a few fleeting seconds, the dragon was struck dumb with bewilderment.

This brief respite gave Ronin the time he needed; to prevent being cast off at the very outset, the moment he found his footing, he drew a Scroll of Wind Tentacles from his spatial ring and invoked it.

Ribbons of wind transformed into ropes, binding him fast to the dragon's massive frame.

This was a fourth-tier wind spell; though its binding force could not hope to trap so colossal a creature, its clutching power was not to be underestimated—it was more than enough to tether Ronin to the dragon.

Carlos seemed to realize what was happening; it let loose a furious roar, its wings lashing the air, its immense body moving with the fluid agility of a fish in water as it executed a hundred-and-eighty-degree roll in midair, turning its back toward the earth.

It sought to dislodge Ronin by this very means.

Fortunately, Ronin had prepared himself a step ahead; no matter how the dragon thrashed, surged, or spun, he remained glued immovably to its back.

The violent wind howled past his ears, its fierce gusts sending Ronin's silver hair flying wildly.

Carlos was driven to madness, hurtling toward the highest heavens.

The thinning air and the plummeting temperature brought a wave of discomfort to Ronin, but he was, after all, a Silver Knight possessed of a formidable physique; so long as his battle qi circulated, he could blunt the elements' assault upon his frame.

Having attained the high skies, he tilted his head to cast a glance downward.

By now, let alone discerning Rhyder and the others upon the ground, even that bizarre valley had shrunk to the size of a mere palm.

Ronin beheld the rolling hills, and the valleys and plains cradled between them;

he saw the vast, boundless marsh stretching all the way to the sea, though the distance was too great to spy the little town at its edge;

beyond that, the grandest sight within his vision was the magnificent, endless ocean to the north and east of the Black North Territory!

To possess a flying mount was a glorious thing.

Ronin recalled the awe and longing that Blanche's griffin squad had stirred within him when she first arrived at Uxbridge.

If he could claim this dragon, what need had he to envy the griffins of others?

Sensing the efficacy of the Wind Tentacles beginning to wane, Ronin traced its magical sigils, casting another "chain" upon himself, binding his form tightly to the dragon once more.

His gaze turned resolute and unyielding. "Come, Carlos, submit to me!"

Words were useless for communication; violence was the only language that could make a magical beast yield, and dragons were no exception.

Ronin drew from his spatial ring the dagger he had plundered from the Shadow Assassin, driving it savagely into the dragon's nape.

Clang!

The dragon's scales possessed a ferocious defensive power; the dagger struck them only to elicit a metallic ring of collision.

Disdain flared in Carlos's heart; foolish human, to dream of piercing its draconic scales with so ordinary a blade was nothing short of a delusion.

Yet in the very next instant, it let out a howl of agony.

Ronin had shifted his strategy; the pointed dagger no longer struck blindly at the scales, but plunged instead into the narrow seams between them.

Puff—

Blood erupted, spraying across the open sky.

"Roar!"

Carlos unleashed a bellow of pure rage.

It hated that it could not alter its size to rid itself of the wind tentacles;

it hated that its tail was not long enough to sweep the human from its back;

it hated that it was not strong enough, for had it reached the seventh tier, its scales would have locked seamlessly, rendering such an intrusion utterly impossible;

but most of all, it hated the man upon its back, wishing nothing more than to turn him to ash with a single breath of dragon-fire.

Yet, lamentably, its neck could not twist far enough to bring its breath to bear upon Ronin.

"!@#￥%***&*"

Ronin understood no Draconic and had no inkling of what the beast cried out.

But judging by its state and the raw emotion flooding from it, the creature was surely cursing him, was it not?

"Yield to me!"

Luoning plunged again into the scale seam, but this time he did not use his dagger—he switched to the Flame-Flow Sword, channeling his aura as he drove it in, igniting searing flames.

“Hah!”

He gripped the hilt with both hands and shoved forward, burying the blade halfway into its flesh.

At that moment, Karlos resembled a cracked water jar, his blood gushing forth like water spilling from a broken vessel.

“I know you understand me,” Luoning shouted loudly. “Submit to me as your master, and I shall spare your life!”

Dragons have pride. Threatened thus, Karlos ceased climbing higher and instead folded his wings, diving straight downward.

The violent plummet made Luoning nauseous; the g-force nearly wrenched the Flame-Flow Sword from his grasp. He hastily retracted it into his space ring and summoned Wind Tendrils once more, reinforcing the bindings.

He felt his speed mounting uncontrollably—how long had they fallen? Then, abruptly, the dragon’s velocity plummeted. The crushing weight pinned Luoning firmly against its back, immobilizing him—

*Thud!*

The ocean exploded in a towering geyser as Karlos plunged headfirst into the sea.

Gurgle… gurgle…

Luoning, caught off guard, swallowed several mouthfuls of saltwater—but luckily, he was no stranger to the sea. He clamped his lips shut and held his breath.

The initial impact had left him dazed, but thankfully, he had not been thrown loose—otherwise, disaster would have been certain.

He chanted another spell while steadying himself, forcing his movements to grow still, controlled.

The Silver Knight’s organs had been strengthened; his breath could endure for long stretches underwater—this was no challenge.

Yet Luoning’s heart began to race.

What if this beast refused to surface? Would he drown here, trapped beneath the waves?

Thankfully, Karlos was far worse off.

Already weakened, drained by dozens of minutes of furious flight, his stamina had long since vanished.

Though he retained some speed underwater, it rapidly dwindled.

Swimming demanded far more energy than flying. With no other choice, the dragon began ascending toward the surface.

Luoning sensed the beast’s exhaustion.

He gazed upward, where the water above grew brighter and brighter—he knew the creature was about to break free.

*Now’s the chance!*

*Splash!*

The two burst from the sea’s depths.

In that instant, Luoning unrolled his Fireball scroll. A massive fireball, two meters in diameter, slammed into the dragon’s skull.

Weakened and mentally drained, Karlos reeled sideways, barely maintaining flight as he staggered toward shore.

But Luoning’s assault was far from over. He drew a second, then a third, then a fourth Fireball scroll.

*Boom!*

*Boom!*

*Boom!*

Fireballs detonated one after another upon Karlos’s head—nearly always the same spot.

Truth be told, the flames inflicted little actual burn damage—but the relentless, thunderous impacts pounded the dragon into dizziness, his mind reeling, his consciousness slipping.

Exhausted beyond measure, his head pounding, Karlos could no longer hold his balance.

He let out a whimpering moan and tumbled headlong toward the beach below.

(End of Chapter)