Chapter 559: Battle of Dragon City

On the walls of Dragonspire City, the banners of the Tricia Kingdom fluttered in the wind. Defensive mechanisms and arcane weapons stood arrayed along the ramparts, while countless knights and soldiers lined both sides, braced for battle.

Yet after two years of relentless war, the kingdom had few renowned generals left—men like Ural and Aruba were either slain, captured, or consumed by the Flame Seal, reduced to failed husks.

Still, those who now stood upon the battlements deserved recognition for their courage.

As the old saying goes: only through thunderous force can one reveal a merciful heart.

Thus, Ronin had ordered Ridal and the others to seize Dragonspire with overwhelming speed and power, minimizing innocent casualties.

And so it began—the moment combat erupted, Carlos unleashed his fiery wrath upon the walltops. His massive claws crushed down on either side, shattering merlons and sending stone crumbling into dust.

Then came Sophia, McKen, and the rest, pouring forth their mightiest attacks without restraint.

Though the defenders answered with spells, martial techniques, and even arcance cannons—turning the northern gate into a storm of explosions—after several exchanges, their strength began to wane.

Soon, the gates shattered. Ground combat surged forward, while in the skies, griffin riders and dragonhawk knights clashed in fierce aerial duels.

Ronin watched the battlefield silently. His forces swiftly gained dominance, momentum building like a landslide.

“There seems to be only one Radiant Knight and one Archmage defending the city?” he mused.

Truthfully, only the Archmage was genuine; the “Radiant Knight” was merely a Silver Moon Knight empowered temporarily by the Flame Seal.

He frowned slightly. “It appears they’ve abandoned the city entirely—planning to make their last stand within the palace.”

Ridal said, “The palace may have arrays and decades’ worth of stored grain, but I cannot fathom why he believes such things will ensure his safety. Even if protected by barriers, we could simply besiege and wear them down.”

“He’s waiting for us to attack,” Ronin replied with a smile. “After all this time spent preparing, I’ll grant Wingflame his wish.”

Ridal stiffened. “You mean to launch a direct assault?”

“Of course,” Ronin said. “McKen and the others can handle the front lines. You come with me to the palace—to test just how strong their arrays truly are.”

Ridal obeyed at once, though a flicker of doubt crossed his mind.

From what he knew of Ronin, the man preferred caution—never taking risks without certainty. This bold advance was unlike him.

Had victory gone to his head? Or did he possess some new advantage?

Ridal suspected the latter. Something about Ronin felt different now.

Before, their auras had been nearly equal. Now, though Ronin seemed more reserved, there was an indescribable weight beneath the surface—a quiet depth that pressed upon the soul.

Could it be… the Duke has ascended to Sage?

Impossible—it couldn’t have happened so quickly.

Yet as thoughts raced through his mind, Ridal gave no sign, merely nodding in agreement.

Together, they soared toward the royal palace of the Tricia Kingdom.

Inside, the kingdom’s finest warriors had gathered. Wingflame had drawn every Flame-Seal Knight above Stellar rank into this final stronghold, ready to turn the tide against Ronin in one desperate gambit.

“Dusan, do you think Ronin will actually come to the palace himself?”

Tension glistened on Tyro’s brow in beads of sweat. He grasped at conversation to distract himself from the crushing reality of becoming a king without a kingdom.

Dusan replied with solemn deference, “Your Majesty, judging by Ronin’s usual tactics, he may send subordinates—perhaps Ridal or others.”

Tyro frowned. If so, their preparations would be wasted. Now he feared both possibilities—dreading Ronin’s arrival, yet fearing even more that he wouldn’t come.

“He’s here!”

Wingflame’s voice cut through like ice, as if a frigid wind had swept across every heart.

Even before the echo faded, two figures appeared in the sky—one with silver hair, the other with crimson locks.

Though they had never seen Ronin and Ridal in person, they knew their descriptions well. Recognition came instantly.

Ronin’s consciousness had already swept across the palace grounds. He sensed them gathered in the central square, braced for impact.

“Ronin, you’ve finally come!” Wingflame called, laced with mockery and scorn. “I’ve heard tales of your rise—from Baron of the Wildwood to Conqueror Duke, all in mere five years. But tell me, does the man famed across nations have the courage to descend and face me in single combat?”

Dusan remained impassive, inwardly amused.

If mere words could lure Ronin down, he would never have become the sovereign of Orlandt.

Ronin laughed aloud, clear and resonant. “I’ve long heard of the arrays laid within the palace by Serlandir. Let us see how strong they truly are.”

With a glance at Ridal, he signaled. The knight understood immediately—drawing his blade, channeling Primordial Energy into a blazing crimson sword beam hundreds of meters long, which crashed downward like divine retribution.

But as the strike neared the palace, a veil of violet light enveloped the entire structure. Woven within it were ripples of wind and the weight of earth, forming a dense barrier that absorbed the blow completely.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Though the energy explosion birthed a tempest of fury, when the storm subsided, the palace below stood unharmed.

“Hahahaha!” Wingflame laughed triumphantly. “This is a defense array forged upon the sacred sigils bestowed by Lord Sereith. Do you truly believe a mere Legendary could break through?”

He paused, muttering under his breath, “Foolish dreamer.”

Ridal snorted, releasing the full aura of a Legendary warrior.

That earlier strike, though powerful, had been little more than a casual test. Now, he intended to fight in earnest.

“Overdrive Smash!”

He focused all his Primordial Energy into his left fist and drove it downward.

For a moment, space itself trembled under the force. To Tyro and the others, the colossal flame-infused fist resembled a meteoric boulder descending from the heavens—an unstoppable force poised to crush mountains.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

The impact slammed into the barrier, sending violent ripples across its surface. The ground beneath quaked violently. Eardrums throbbed; weaker warriors bled from nose and ears.

Yet the ripples dissipated, absorbing the blow like water swallowing stone. The shield remained intact.

Ridal’s heart clenched. His full-power Overdrive Smash had failed to penetrate. The array’s resilience was indeed formidable.

“One more punch!” he growled, gathering energy again.

Wingflame watched, concealing a smirk. *Good. Keep wasting your strength breaking through. When you finally breach the barrier and rush in, believing victory yours—that is when you’ll fall into my trap.*

Serlandir had, in truth, constructed two arrays: the outermost defensive layer, and a second suppression array controlled by Wingflame himself—one capable of imposing crushing gravity, disrupting elemental flow, and inducing mental tremors, sapping focus and weakening foes.

“Let me take over.”

Ronin raised a hand, halting Ridal mid-motion.

“The ‘Sereith’ he mentioned must be the Storm Lord of Sage-tier that Sophia spoke of. A defense crafted by such a being would naturally be potent. You could break it, yes—but likely only after a dozen strikes. The toll on you would be great.”

Ridal nodded gravely and stepped back, dissipating his energy.

Ronin lifted his hand. In an instant, the heavens shifted. Endless flames surged toward his fist, coalescing into a vortex of incinerating power.

"This is—!"

Rydal's heart trembled with shock. Though Ronin also used a heavy-strike martial technique, its power existed on a higher dimensional plane than his own Ultimate Yuan Force.

"Is this... Sage's Power?"

Below, Yan Yi's pupils contracted sharply. Instinctively, he sensed the abnormality of this attack—but before his mind could fully grasp it, Ronin’s blow had already descended.

If Rydal’s strike had merely made space shudder, then Ronin’s shattered space itself, warping and distorting reality.

The ever-expanding force delivered an unprecedented assault upon sight, sound, and soul alike, crashing into the defensive formation.

Boom!

In that instant, the entire world dimmed.

The barrier—a defense Yan Yi believed capable of withstanding at least a dozen blows from a Legendary expert—shattered beneath Ronin’s single strike.

"No… This can’t be!" Yan Yi cried out in disbelief. (End of Chapter)