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The green dragon slowly fell to the ground in a daze. Cromwell also suddenly released his holy pressure, and then continued to cast spells. A huge tornado slowly formed around him.

The harpies screamed and flapped their wings in panic to avoid a plane crash under the pressure of the Holy Order. Before they could recover, Cromwell had already flown over with a tornado.

At the same time, Cromwell waved away the Feather Falling Technique on the green dragon, and the green dragon sank to the ground.

Cromwell flew over the Green Dragon, and the tornado rattled the forest beneath him. The large group of harpies had to retreat to avoid the violent air flow of the tornado.

As a wind magic saint, Cromwell's control over the wind was simply perfect. Although the wind of the tornado seemed so powerful that even the harpy did not dare to approach, the tornado did not blow away the green dragon on the ground.

When Cromwell flew directly over the Green Dragon, there was no wind in the center of the tornado, which also calmed down the flying leaves.

The bruised green dragon raised its head with difficulty. When Cromwell's skinny figure was reflected in the huge dragon's eyes, the green dragon almost cried on the spot. The huge dragon's face showed a rare feeling of happiness for surviving the disaster.

"Master Dharma Saint, save me"

The Feather Falling Technique was re-applied to the green dragon, and a soft wind carried the green dragon to fly.

The green dragon still had sense at least, and quickly transformed into a human form to reduce Cromwell's burden.

Cromwell's magic carried the green dragon to fly to him. Before he could speak, the green dragon said anxiously: "Master Dharma Saint, Silver Dragon Kerry is still near the gate of the plane."

Cromwell's face condensed, and he waved his hand to increase the tornado around him, driving away the harpies that surrounded him again, and soared into the sky in the direction of the plane gate.

When they flew near the plane gate, even Cromwell couldn't help but gasped.

I saw countless harpies flying in the sky near the gate of the plane. One of them, a particularly huge harpy with golden feathers on its head, was landing not far from the gate of the plane. The boulders screamed at them.

Under the big rock where the harpy was, there was a silver dragon that had been torn into shape. The huge harpy's jaw was covered with bright red blood.

Following the scream of the huge harpy, the surrounding harpies screamed loudly at Cromwell and the Green Dragon in mid-air, waving their wings and quickly surrounding the tornado.

There were tears rolling in the corners of the green dragon's eyes. Cromwell sighed softly and quickly retreated with the green dragon in his arms.

It is difficult to cast advanced large-scale magic, and the low-power wind magic cannot effectively kill these thick-skinned wind magic beasts, harpies. In addition, Cromwell also has a bottle of oil beside him, so Cromwell can only Can have no choice but to retreat.

Cromwell looked back at the plane gate that was still flying harpies outwards, but he missed Cattail City's horned deer armored chariot in his heart.

If there were hundreds of horned deer armored tanks at this moment, relying on their steel armor that was not afraid of the harpies' claws and their powerful continuous anti-air firepower, they should be able to fight against these harpies.

But it is a pity that this is not Cattail City, and it is too far away from Cattail City. Even if Feng Yu is willing to dispatch the chariot corps, the Horned Deer armored chariot cannot drive near the gate of the plane in the vast mountains.

Cromwell flew all the way south, using the wind blade to attack the harpies behind him as he flew. It wasn't until he flew hundreds of miles and shot down nearly a hundred harpies that he allowed these difficult monsters to retreat. .

"Sir, over there." The green dragon pointed to a mountain in the distance with a white top that was above the snow line, and said, "There is an ice dragon living on the top of that mountain."

Cromwell led the green dragon to draw an arc in the air and flew towards the mountain pointed by the green dragon.

High on the mountain, a slender ice dragon was looking around. She also saw the approaching French Saint Cromwell and his own people.

Cromwell put the green dragon down and said, "Ask her to take you back to the Dragon Clan to report. I'm going to inform the human city in the south of the Meteor Mountains."

Saying that, without waiting for the green dragon to say anything, he quickly flew towards the south.

Moran also knew that the Brocade Empire had built five new cities in the Meteor Mountains and had its hands in the entire Meteor Mountains.

But the Meteor Mountains are in the northern part of the Brocade Empire, so even if Moran wanted to, they would be beyond his reach.

However, as a Dharma Saint, Cromwell cannot just watch the tapestry weavers here become food for the harpies.

When Cromwell flew over a city, he felt very complicated when he looked at the crowded city with half-built city walls below.

Although I don't want to see the powerful tapestry empire grow, there are five cities here, and hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of adventurers gather nearby.

In order not to argue, Cromwell summoned a wind ball again when he descended, but this time it was a gentle breeze, but this also allowed people in the city to discover this wind magician who fell from the sky.

"It's a magician. Could there be some treasure in the mountain? It even attracted the magician. I don't know who got rich this time. The magician was very generous."

The leader of a mercenary group looked at the robe and was so surprised that all the arrows he was picking out fell to the ground.

"Dharma Saint"

"Why is it raw? This is a fine steel arrow, not pig iron." The stall owner rolled his eyes at the mercenary leader and said to himself that a fool like this who can't even distinguish steel will have to join the World of Warcraft sooner or later. belly.

"Idiot, that's St. Cromwell, the wind magician."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm still Emperor Moran," the stall owner sneered.

"Idiot, the Dharma Saint once visited our brocade capital and wore this magic robe. The buttons on this golden silk robe are all made from wind magic crystals. Don't talk nonsense if you don't understand."

"Really?" The stall owner looked at the mercenary leader who looked at the magician in mid-air with admiration, and followed his gaze in disbelief to the magician who was falling in mid-air.

"Is there any other magician in Grain who can imitate the Magic Saint's magic robe?" The mercenary leader said something that the stall owner could not refute without turning his head.

The magicians in Moran are proud of Cromwell. Even the magicians in the Brocade Empire respect Cromwell as their teacher. There is really no magician in the world who would imitate the style of the Magic Saint's magic robe.

Little magicians don't dare. Great magicians are not that boring and will not offend the majesty of a holy magician.

In a newly built two-wooden house, several nobles in rich clothes came out. The leader was the lord of this emerging city, an imperial viscount.