Red dragon: in charge of natural disasters

However, the Iron Tide in the distance immediately spotted this player from the opposing faction, and a standard villainous smile appeared on the face covered in exoskeleton scales.

"Jie jie jie, what a surprise, there's even a player who joined the Thracian faction."

"Buzz—"

The chainsaw sword in the Dragonscale Monk's hand spun at high speed, emitting a scalp-tingling sound. He slightly bent his knees, ready to leap, already prepared to jump.

The [Royal Knight Commander] looked at the monstrous Dragonscale Monk in the distance, retreating with a mournful face, shouting: "Big brother, I'm just a newbie, please don't kill me."

"Newbie?"

However, the Iron Tide didn't care. He raised his chainsaw sword high, leaped more than ten meters into the air, and pounced towards the Royal Knight Commander on the other side of the city wall.

"Then let me give you a good lesson! Eat my blade!"

"Wait—don't come over here!" The Royal Knight Commander panicked, raised the double-barreled shotgun in his hand, and shot at the Dragonscale Monk's chest.

But the Dragonscale Monk's exoskeleton scales were extremely hard, and the old-fashioned shotgun couldn't break through the defense at all, leaving only a white mark.

"Stop him!"

"Kill that Imperial!"

The Thracian defenders, wielding knives and swords, swarmed up, trying to use their numerical advantage to kill the Iron Tide.

But the Iron Tide directly charged into the crowd, his body spinning rapidly, the chainsaw sword swinging horizontally, and a dozen helmeted heads flew up, blood gushing like pillars from the necks of those headless corpses.

The Royal Knight Commander witnessed the tragic deaths of his comrades, turned around and fled, wailing in his heart: "Is this a player? Even a boss wouldn't be this strong, right?"

"Want to escape?"

The Iron Tide looked at the player with his back to him, grinned, and raised the bolter.

"Bang!"

The Royal Knight Commander only felt a darkness before his eyes, and his heart sank.

Metal shrapnel filled his back, tearing flesh and blood. Under the huge impact, his remains flew out directly, slamming hard against the city wall, painting a wall of blood.

[You killed a [Thracian Low-Ranking Officer], gaining 1 gold coin, 250 faction contribution, and 500 experience.]

The Iron Tide pretended to blow away the smoke from the muzzle, and said easily: "It's all effortless. It's much more enjoyable than dealing with documents in the office! As expected, killing and arson bring wealth, while hard work makes you a slave."

"Monster, don't be arrogant!"

"Kill him!"

"Let's go together, he's just a beast trapped by us!"

The Iron Tide snorted coldly, spun like a top, repeatedly pulling the trigger, creating a metal storm around him.

In a moment, blood soaked the bricks, the ground was covered with internal organs and limb fragments, and there wasn't a single Thracian alive who could stand beside the Iron Tide.

On another defense line of Augusta City, lightning, flames, and frost poured out frantically from the Elemental Tower, wiping out the players within a hundred meters.

"Boom!"

A booming sound rang out, and another bowl-sized lightning bolt fell from the Elemental Tower, turning several players who tried to climb the city into charred fragments.

"Ignorant mortals, how could you understand the mysteries of magic! The rich magical heritage left by the Holy Fadelan is a peak that you cannot reach in this lifetime!"

The mage of the Thracian Arcane Legion floated in the sky, his face as cold as ice, his staff waving in the air, his crimson-gold robe fluttering behind him, and a vast magical wave permeated the surroundings.

Lightning and flames surrounded him, constantly falling from the sky, ruthlessly bombarding the surrounding players.

That monstrous martial monk actually had six thick arms, each with a fist the size of a casserole. His smooth head reflected a blinding light—it was the famous martial monk player [Dawei Tianlong].

Damn it, what is this thing?

A human martial monk?

No, this guy who is more than five meters tall and has six arms doesn't look like a normal human at all.

The Thracian mage squinted his eyes in the strong light, frowned, and was filled with doubts, but still waved his staff at the strange martial monk.

"Boom!"

A thick lightning bolt fell from the sky, creating a charred pit in the ground, but the martial monk was gone.

Suddenly, a huge six-armed shadow appeared above the city wall. The Thracian mage raised his head in horror, only to see the six-armed martial monk rapidly falling from the sky, waving his fists, his face full of anger.

"Prajna Paramita Hum! Flying Dragon in the Sky! Fiend, meet your death!"

The Thracian mage quickly raised his staff, and a light blue protective magic array blocked him.

But the six-armed martial monk waved his arms, his fists turned into countless afterimages, and the fist-shaped energy fell like raindrops, instantly shattering the protective magic array.

The Thracian mage activated the energy of the Elemental Tower, and countless lightning bolts, like silver snakes dancing wildly, turned into a lightning cage, imprisoning the martial monk inside.

"A petty trick, how dare you show off your axe here?"

Dawei Tianlong was not afraid at all, protecting his body with qi, broke through the lightning restraints while enduring the bombardment of lightning, and his casserole-sized fist smashed straight at the head of the Thracian mage.

"Boom!"

The Thracian mage couldn't dodge in time, and his head exploded directly, skull fragments flying everywhere, red and white splattering all over the ground.

"Kill him! Heavens, that monster killed Lord Karl!"

"Fire!"

The Thracian soldiers also discovered this uninvited guest. In an instant, several Sun God ballistae aimed at him, giant arrows trailing light shot out, and hundreds of bullets shot at him.

Dawei Tianlong threw out the headless corpse of the Thracian mage, blocking a large number of bullets, then kicked his legs and ran on the walls, flexibly dodging at the bottom of the Elemental Tower.

Then, he frantically waved his fists, punching and breaking the supports at the bottom, causing the Elemental Tower to tremble slightly, teetering.

"Crack—"

Electric light crackled on the tower, sparks crisscrossed on it, and the energy core at the top of the Elemental Tower flickered wildly, becoming extremely unstable.

"Come and help me!"

Dawei Tianlong shouted, and in an instant, eighteen tall martial monks covered in gold powder stood out and ran quickly behind him—they were the Eighteen Arhats of the [Shaolin Temple] Guild!

"What on earth are they going to do?"

"Madmen!"

"Kill them! This group of madmen wants to push down the Elemental Tower!"

The Thracian soldiers' bullets and arrows poured down, but these golden martial monks were invulnerable to swords and spears, like copper heads and iron arms, and could not be easily killed at all.

"Hahahaha, this monk will give you a big gift! Shaolin Temple monks—push!"

Dawei Tianlong laughed loudly, veins popping out on all six arms at the same time, using huge force to push the Elemental Tower.

With his order, the eighteen golden martial monks also exerted their strength at the same time, pushing the tower. The magic tower, which was tens of meters high, first tilted slightly, rumbling non-stop, and finally irreversibly fell towards the Augusta city wall.

"No, don't—"

"Boom!"

The elemental core, filled with magical energy, exploded in terror, blasting a huge hole in the city wall, and none of the defending soldiers survived.

"Abbot is mighty!"

"Awesome!"

Dawei Tianlong put his hands on his hips and said triumphantly: "It is said that saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda. Our Shaolin Temple has killed hundreds of mobs in this wave, so we should have built more than a thousand layers of pagodas underground."

The players next to him looked at this blood-soaked monster martial monk, and the corners of their mouths twitched slightly: "Amitabha, the abbot is truly compassionate, and is probably about to achieve enlightenment."

The current players are no longer the battlefield scrubs they used to be.

The newest and most complete novels are first published on 69shu.

This legion, composed of thousands of transcendents above level ten and hundreds of thousands of professionals, is a force to be reckoned with no matter which plane it is placed in.

After the players joined the battlefield, the Empire's offensive became even more fierce, and the figures of the Empire's people had already appeared in many places on the Augusta city wall.

"Imperials."

Above the Sun God Tower, Wilhelm's expression became more and more distorted and hideous, and an uncontrollable anger was revealed in the golden eyes with sun wheel pupils.

He drew out the Doomsday Judgment Long Spear, and a golden light shot straight into the sky. The six wings behind him unfolded, and the melodious hymn was played again.

"In the name of the Lord of Thrace, the successor of Fadelan—Holy Guards, destroy them!"

In an instant, hundreds of winged angels rose into the air, raised the flaming long swords in their hands, and pounced towards the Imperials who had invaded Augusta.

"Shua—"

The golden blade of light cut through the sky, directly dividing the earth, and a dozen players along the way were chopped into pieces.

Chains stretched out from the ground, tightly entwining the players, dragging them into the ground regardless of their struggles.

"Be careful, these elite monsters are very strong!"

"Don't get hit, you'll be killed instantly!"

The leaders of the six-winged Holy Guards raised their long swords together, releasing golden pillars of light that shot straight into the sky, and chanted in unison: "Burn the sinful souls, may our Lord live forever—"

"Boom—"

In an instant, countless golden-red flames fell from their long swords, and the brilliant light dyed the night sky golden-red.

Then, these flames, like divine punishment falling from the sky, fell on the heads of the Imperials in Augusta, burning their entire bodies.

But as the resounding war drums echoed, Dragonkin Holy Knights clad in heavy armor marched with orderly steps onto this chaotic battlefield.

“The Dragon Lord is above all!”

Anthony raised the spear bearing the imperial banner high, letting out a furious roar.

Sparks containing the will and faith of the Holy Knights soared into the sky, gradually coalescing into a crimson dragon, appearing in the sky and pouncing towards the Holy Guards.

“Not good! Stop it!”

The faces of the Holy Guard leaders changed slightly, but the speed of the dragon phantom was simply too fast. The ferocious dragon head spewed out raging dragon flames, burning several Holy Guards to cinders.

The giant claw waved, tearing through the air, the claw tips emitting a pure white flame—this was not a simple physical attack, but an attack aimed directly at the essence and the soul.

“Sizzle—”

It tore apart the golden spiritual light on the surface of the Holy Guards' bodies, completely shattering their glamorous disguise.

Countless pure white wings fluttered down from mid-air, only to transform into blood-stained black feathers. The Holy Guards' golden armor dimmed, turning into hellish iron, red-hot from the forge.

And their perfect faces gradually twisted and contorted, covered in cracks, seeping dark red blood from the fissures, with bizarre smiles appearing at the corners of their mouths, like broken puppets.

“Heavenly Wings Burn the Eyes, Fiery Sword Cleaves the Armor; Sacred Chant Brands the Forehead, Divine Eyes are Like Torches.”

But they were completely unaware of the strange changes, still chanting the so-called “sacred songs,” praising Wilhelm's deeds, and expressing their loyalty and holiness.

An army soaked in blood and reeking of hellish sulfur was singing melodious hymns, a particularly eerie scene.

“What, what is that?”

“Could it be that those monsters—are Emperor Wilhelm's Holy Guards?”

“That, isn't that my dead brother? Am I seeing things? How could he be here?”

“Are they, are they still alive?”

“Amanata above, that's Count Zorman, who went missing! The apostate God-kin, he's actually in that squad!”

The Thracian soldiers looked at the Holy Guards who had undergone a great transformation in the sky, many with faces full of surprise and fear, and the noisy discussions echoed above the city walls.

Interestingly, those reacting strongly were usually soldiers transferred from other regions, while the Augustan native garrison did not take it seriously, with indifferent and numb expressions, as if they had known everything for a long time.

Thrace looked at those hellish puppets with empty eyes and suddenly spotted a familiar figure—Baron Clarence, his former friend, who had been missing for many years and was said to have died on the Holy City battlefield, but was now appearing here.

Instantly, he felt his heart as if struck by a heavy hammer. His face turned pale, and the hand holding the long sword trembled slightly.

“This, how is this possible? How could that Majesty be so insane?” he muttered to himself in disbelief.

Combining General Carlisle's words, he had roughly guessed the whole story:

All those in Augusta City who resisted the hell contract were captured by that mad Emperor Wilhelm and turned into puppets, and the souls of these Thracians were sacrificed to the demons!

Dayev felt his heart sink, as if falling into an ice cave, but he was also somewhat fortunate.

If he had not been demoted to the border back then, he would probably be a member of this terrifying army now, and his soul would be subjected to eternal torment in hell.

At this moment, the Holy Guards finally revealed their true colors.

They were empty shells with their souls cut off, hellish puppets made from living Thracians, and Wilhelm's most “loyal” confidants!

“What exactly are they!”

“What exactly is the kingdom cooperating with? Where did those dead compatriots go?”

“Your Majesty, this is blasphemy!”

Those loyal followers of the Sun God questioned loudly, wanting to demand an explanation from their king.

But Dayev knew clearly: these believers were destined not to get an answer—because the king they were loyal to was terminally ill and beyond redemption.

(End of this chapter)