Chapter 161: The Fairy Dragon
No one knew who that person was, nor where the skeletal dragon had come from.
The only thing they knew was what was unfolding before their eyes.
People on the ground looked up at the eastern sky as if witnessing sunrise – the night illuminated by beautiful fluorescence, darkness dispelled by radiant light. When the dragon spread its wings, even the stars and moon were eclipsed by its presence.
The griffins of the White Wing Knights appeared as insignificant as grains of rice before the dragon.
Though clearly a skeletal dragon, it didn’t evoke coldness but rather a dreamlike beauty.
Upon the dragon’s skull stood a small figure – the one who had summoned the bone dragon, their back turned to Helburg as they faced the overwhelming demon tide.
The elegant yet colossal creature glided slowly across the sky.
With each beat of its wings, it seemed to scatter stardust upon the earth, countless points of light trailing its flight path.
The luminous skeletal dragon flew while unleashing deadly breath attacks.
The scorching pillars of fire contained ancient power far beyond ordinary flames. Wherever the fire swept, even the demon tide burst into raging infernos.
After just a few breath attacks, the demon tide surging toward Helburg came to a standstill.
Creatures of darkness turned to ashes in the pale flames, leaving nothing behind.
The dragon’s radiance formed a protective barrier.
Flying along the black wall, it held the demon tide at bay beyond this luminous boundary.
“By the gods…” murmured a White Wing Knight.
The tangled horrors in the darkness were all annihilated by the dragon’s breath.
Wherever it passed, the demon tide subsided.
Griffins landed before Helburg’s gates. Those who hadn’t made it onto the walls sat gasping on the ground, staring dumbfounded at the dragon’s retreating form.
The dragon flew into the distance, tracing the demon tide’s path of approach until it became but a line of light.
Even at great distance, its glow remained visible – like a second moon.
Many pressed hands to their chests, over their hearts, offering reverent prayers to the dragon.
As both demonic and draconic auras faded, the demon tide truly seemed halted by some immense power, frozen in the lands before Helburg.
The White Wing Knight found the gnome on a hillside crowded with survivors. The gnome still stared blankly at where the dragon had vanished. When the armored knight arrived, the crowd instinctively parted for him.
The dragon had flown extraordinarily far, yet its luminous trail remained clearly visible – a comet-like tail resembling northern lights only seen in polar regions.
“Do you know what that was, York?” the knight asked.
Though less than half the gnome’s age, York – despite his cowardly nature and past servitude to an evil necromancer – truly deserved the title of “erudite.”
Among the knight’s acquaintances, few matched the gnome’s breadth of knowledge. During their months traveling from Tania to the Holy City, the knight had often heard York spontaneously explain local customs, cultures, and legends.
York had even authored stories about Lucas and another person, distributing them to taverns across the land.
As a White Wing Knight, Percival had spent most his life honing martial skills and attuning to holy light. He couldn’t identify what dragon those bones belonged to – none he knew possessed such colossal size.
It resembled no blue or red dragon he’d heard of. His draconic knowledge was limited anyway; true dragons rarely appeared in mortal realms.
Mindless wyverns were merely fierce beasts, but to most intelligent races, true dragons existed between myth and reality.
Many knew legends of dragons’ power, yet almost none would see one in their lifetime.
“York… York doesn’t know either,” the gnome murmured, mesmerized by the falling light. “But it came to save us. It stopped the demon tide. It saved York and everyone here.”
“So sacred… so beautiful… York feels so moved…” The gnome wiped tears from his eyes. “Grandfather… York saw a dragon. York truly saw a dragon before dying…”
The knight also gazed upward, heart swelling with similar emotion.
Every survivor overflowed with awe and gratitude.
Yet surveying the scorched lands, the knight sighed.
“Those lands are ruined by the demon tide. For centuries to come, elemental and magical corruption will render them uninhabitable.”
“Percy, the demon tide came from Opal,” York said. “This plague was surely engineered by demons. Demon tides always have omens, but this time they came too fast for anyone to notice. The demons accelerated the tide’s arrival through means unknown to us – this plague being one method.”
“Too late now, York. What’s the point?” The knight shook his head. “The tide has come. We must leave immediately. Though the dragon halted one wave, staying means certain death.”
“No, Percy, no need for haste. Since demons accelerated the tide, they must compensate elsewhere – it’s an immutable law. The second wave won’t come so quickly. We have time.”
“York will use city facilities to brew potions, gather more alchemists and apothecaries to help. We can overcome this plague and evacuate everyone together.”
The knight noticed the gnome’s transformed expression – the bald little creature suddenly brimming with purpose.
Recovering faster than the knight, York began briskly directing others.
“Hurry! We must hurry!” the gnome cried. “City folk and outsiders are mixed now – no reason to keep gates closed! Brew the potions quickly! Everyone must drink them to recover!”
“Oh! Holy light helps too! Bring priests and paladins to assist! This plague carries necromantic toxins – holy light can purify the necromantic elements, speeding recovery!”
“Heal everyone, then we flee west! As far as possible!”
The gnome sprang into frantic action. Percy had never seen such vigor from him.
In the knight’s memory, York was always skittish, sneaking glances like a thief when simply walking.
He assumed the sacred dragon had inspired the gnome. Only York knew the truth – he’d recognized that familiar silhouette again.
Yes, after eighteen months, York had seen that figure from the snowstorm once more.
“Porter, you were right. He would reunite with us someday,” the gnome thought, his fear of Quasimodo vanishing inexplicably.
Simultaneously, York recalled a certain conversation in his study…
The legend of the Fairy Dragon…
So that skeletal remnant was the legendary Fairy Dragon.
He had awakened the Fairy Dragon to save them all.
York sniffled, wiping snot and tears with his sleeve before marching back toward Helburg.