Chapter 160: Dragon's Shadow

As the griffin soared higher, the rapidly approaching demon tide had already appeared at the horizon’s edge. Everyone’s gaze followed the griffin, so they all saw the approaching black line at the same time. Every awakened person stood frozen, mouths agape, as an ominous premonition weighed heavily on their hearts.

“What… is that?” Mien asked with trembling voice.

His vision was exceptional, capable of even observing the paths of stars at night. In the distance, he saw the monstrous shapes surging within the turbulent tide. To his eyes, it appeared like a towering wall blotting out the sky. The black wall seemed to separate the eastern plains into another world, where lives swallowed by the tide writhed amidst the waves, and deformed creatures swam through the currents.

The White Wing Knight hovering high above also stared dumbfounded at the black tide. The closer the demon tide came, the more he could sense the terrifying number of shadow creatures within. These beings fought over the material plane lives caught in the demon tide – humans, magical creatures, beasts… Whenever a life was swept in, low-tier shadow creatures would swarm like piranhas in the Savarian River, devouring both flesh and soul.

To low-tier demons, the souls of living beings were irresistible delicacies. They were hungry, greedy, cruel and bloodthirsty. The demon tide was a grand feast to them, the advancing floodwaters their buffet table. Every demon struggled to push to the forefront of the tide, for only there could they snatch a bite of hard-won “delicacy.”

In their frenzy, they fought among themselves, constantly tearing each other apart, only for new demons from behind to immediately fill the gaps. It was a hellish scene. Faced with such disaster, whether you were a White Wing Knight or Black Wing Knight made no difference from common folk.

The only consolation was that the White Wing Knight with his griffin still had a chance to escape. The first wave of demon tide only eroded the land – those who could fly like the griffin still had hope of survival. By reaching higher altitudes and using taller mountains as resting points, the White Wing Knight could escape the tide’s center.

The changing of epochs didn’t happen instantly – it was a years-long process of erosion, with wave after wave of demon tide until all vulnerable land was submerged. During this, humans could resist or flee, but history’s outcome never changed. The old order would be destroyed, demons would rule the world, with only a handful surviving until the tide receded and saints emerged to herald a new era.

Reason told the White Wing Knight to flee immediately, but his pride and sense of justice wouldn’t allow him to abandon those below. When he looked down, he realized his hands were shaking. “Am I… afraid?” He couldn’t believe his own cowardice. The next moment, he clenched his teeth and tightened the griffin’s reins.

“That’s the demon tide! Everyone, get to high ground immediately! Don’t stay where you are! Climb the walls! Climb the hills! Get to the highest point you can see!” The griffin carried him over the crowd as he shouted his warnings repeatedly.

The stunned people finally began running at his urging, desperately fleeing toward Helburg’s walls – the highest point in their sight. The White Wing Knight didn’t just call to those in the camp; he flew over the castle too, warning every resident. Yet he knew in his heart that Helburg’s walls could never stop that all-consuming darkness. Staying here, even he would miss his best chance to escape – this was just self-deception. Yet he remained, continuing his futile cries.

By the time the demon tide arrived, the walls were packed with people, as were rooftops and hillsides. Near Helburg’s church, many had been awakened earlier by the sudden appearance of undead. Though plague had claimed many lives in the castle, when people emerged and gathered, they still formed a dense sea of humanity.

The tide was terrifyingly close now, turning the earth pitch black like tar, bringing with it a choking, corpse-rot stench. Shadow elements eroded the land, and the overwhelming magical energy made those with weak constitutions nauseous. The tsunami-like demon tide truly stood taller than Helburg’s walls. Blank faces, weeping sounds, ashen expressions – facing this horror, people’s faces seemed to spell only one word: despair.

Yet in this moment of despair, someone spotted a faint figure standing at the very forefront against the tide. “Mommy, who… is that?” a child asked, pointing at the figure. As the first noticed him, others gradually turned to look at that pitifully small shadow beneath the darkness. Tiny as dust, a gaunt shadow standing alone at the forefront.

The White Wing Knight on his griffin spotted him from afar too. He pulled the griffin to hover. While many thought him mad, a faint fluorescence began to glow. That weak light stood out starkly against the dark tide. He held something luminous in his hand, raising it high as silver light enveloped him.

A profound voice suddenly spread throughout Helburg, seeming to come from ocean depths, from ancient skies. A pale blue skeleton manifested in the light. So broken, so withered, yet still awe-inspiring. It was a dragon’s skeleton, a set of bones more massive than mountains appearing before everyone.

Wade had exchanged his soul. The fates he’d altered converged deep within his spirit. The “faith power” from those grateful to him was the only currency he could use to make the Fairy Dragon’s bones manifest power again. Since that faith was concentrated in him, he had to trade with his own soul – not with stolen soul fire, but with his very essence.

The price was lighter than expected – just the soul of one arm and one leg sufficed to make the legendary Fairy Dragon manifest again in skeletal form. At the tower’s edge, the last Silver Moon Elf gazed at the skeletal Dragon God. Her silver hair whipped wildly in the wind as she took up her lute, playing and singing an ancient melody. The beautiful song carried far on the wind.

The pale blue bones spread wings – only shattered bone spurs remained of the membranes, yet moonlight still shone from those hollow bones. Every Silver Moon Elf knew the Dragon God never relied on wingbeats to fly. Even as mere bones, the Dragon God soared skyward, scattering scale-like motes of light across the land.