"Your Grace!"
Jaelena cried out in terror, gripping the reins of the dragon saddle tightly, her face drained of color.
Lo Quen's heart skipped a beat, and in that moment, he understood why the mighty Valyria Legion had met its end here.
It wasn't that the dragons weren't powerful enough—it was the unnatural environment.
The Rhoynar revered the Rhoyne as their mother river, and all their gods were connected to it.
The ancient Rhoynar wielded powerful water magic.
The violent turmoil of the Rhoyne had been caused by this very magic.
This fury, brought on by a curse, had created an impenetrable zone for flying creatures.
The furious turbulence and thick fog made it impossible for dragons to fly steadily or see clearly, while the terrifying water tornadoes were deadly.
That was why so many dragons had perished in the blink of an eye!
"Jaelena!"
Lo Quen acted decisively, shouting at the silver dragon, struggling against the gale, "Get out of here! Leave this area! I'll stay behind!"
"No! It's too dangerous! I'm staying with you!"
Jaelena's voice was firm.
"Obey me!"
Lo Quen spoke calmly, "Your presence here only hinders me. Get out! That's an order!"
He knew she couldn't handle this strange, magical weather.
Jaelena bit her lip, watching Blooddancer stand firm in the wind and Lo Quen's unyielding gaze. Finally, after a long pause, she nodded. "Be careful."
She maneuvered Silverfall, struggling to turn against the winds, inch by inch, pushing toward the outskirts of The Sorrows.
"Blooddancer, you go too."
Lo Quen patted Blooddancer's neck and pointed toward a relatively open patch of gravel below.
"Land there, then leave. I'll find you."
Blooddancer gave a reluctant growl, molten gold eyes filled with concern.
"Don't worry. I can handle it."
Lo Quen's tone was firm.
He couldn't let Blooddancer take risks here.
Blooddancer finally relented, letting out a frustrated roar before forcing its descent, threading through the gaps between the gale and water tornadoes, landing dangerously on the open ground.
Without hesitation, Lo Quen leapt off the dragon's back, landing on the cold gravel.
"Go!"
Lo Quen barked, not looking back.
Blooddancer gave him a lingering, intense look before roaring once more. With a powerful beat of its wings, it battled the wind and followed Silverfall's path out of the deadly zone.
Just as Blooddancer vanished, the cursed stone men hiding in the shadows of the ruins surged forward like bloodthirsty zombies, their eerie cries rising as they swarmed from all sides.
Madness burned in their eyes as their rigid arms reached out for Lo Quen, desperate to tear him apart.
Lo Quen's gaze grew cold. With a sharp hiss, he drew the Valyrian steel sword from his waist.
The blade rippled with dark waves in the dim light.
He moved like lightning, meeting the oncoming horde head-on.
The Valyrian steel was razor-sharp; each swing cleaved the charging stone men effortlessly in two.
Where their bodies were severed, no blood poured out—only a shower of gray stone dust and faint wisps of magic seeped from their wounds.
[Dragon's Soul +3]
[Dragon's Soul +5]
[Dragon's Soul +8]
The long-forgotten notifications of Dragon's Soul returned, ringing in his mind one after another.
Though each stone man yielded little in terms of Dragon's Soul—less even than the Firewyrms in the Valyria ruins—the sheer number of them made the accumulation noticeable.
But there were too many of them. They knew no fear, charging forward relentlessly.
After cutting down dozens, Lo Quen started to feel frustrated—this was beginning to feel like a waste of time.
He drew a deep breath, and vast magic surged within him.
[Dragonflame Breath] !
He opened his mouth, and a searing cone of dragon flame roared forth. The flames instantly engulfed the stone men within the fan-shaped area ahead.
"Aaargh!!!"
Piercing screams erupted as the stone men thrashed frantically within the Dragonfire. Their hardened petrified skin cracked under the intense heat, ultimately reducing them to ash. The flames seemed to possess an additional suppressing effect against the cursed energy within them. The surrounding stone men were so intimidated by this terrifying flame that they dared not advance for a moment.
Just then, the towering figure moved. The Shrouded Lord emitted a low growl, deep and rumbling like boulders scraping together. He leapt down from the high dome, landing heavily before Lo Quen with a thud that made the ground tremble. It charged forward with astonishing speed, utterly unlike the clumsiness of ordinary stone men. Two palms, covered in horn-like hard skin, extended from beneath the shroud, reaching straight for Lo Quen.
Without hesitation, Lo Quen once more unleashed Dragonfire. The searing heat instantly engulfed the Shrouded Lord. Yet as the flames touched it, a thick, grayish-white mist suddenly billowed from the Shrouded Lord's body. Imbued with a trace of magical power, the mist actually repelled Lo Quen's Dragonfire, preventing it from directly scorching the creature's core. Though the mist dissipated under the flame's assault, it regenerated even faster.
A flicker of surprise crossed Lo Quen's eyes: "This is indeed a bit unnerving." This brief delay allowed the Shrouded Lord to close in, its massive palm slashing toward him with a howling wind. Lo Quen sidestepped the blow, and his Valyria steel blade swung down to strike at its arm.
Sssshhh!
The blade sliced through, emitting a sound akin to cutting through tough leathers. It left only a deep gash on its arm, failing to sever it entirely. Lo Quen frowned. Its defense clearly surpassed that of ordinary stone men.
The Shrouded Lord roared in pain and rage, swinging its other fist with staggering force. Lo Quen raised his sword to block. Clang! The immense force sent a tingling numbness through his arm, forcing him to slide back half a step.
"Damn!"
Rather than alarm, Lo Quen felt a surge of excitement, his eyes blazing with combat intent. He held nothing back now. His figure danced around the Shrouded Lord, the Valyrian steel sword becoming a blur of light, carving deep gashes into its body. Though the Shrouded Lord possessed immense strength and formidable defense, its movements were still a notch slower than Lo Quen's. Moreover, its combat techniques seemed to rely more on instinct than skill.
It roared furiously, its fists swinging like a raging storm, yet it struggled to land a true blow against the agile Lo Quen. After a dozen exchanges, Lo Quen spotted an opening. He ducked sharply to evade the sweeping arm, then thrust his blade like a venomous snake striking from its lair. With pinpoint accuracy, the sword pierced the area around the Shrouded Lord's heart.
"Thud!"
The blade sank deep!
"Aaargh—!!!"
The Shrouded Lord let out an earth-shattering, piercing scream, its voice filled with agony and refusal to accept defeat. A torrent of thick, grayish-white mist erupted violently from its wound, so dense it seemed almost tangible, spreading wildly in all directions.
Simultaneously, the entire Rhoyne seemed to have been utterly enraged. Every water spout instantly grew more violent, more massive. The river's center churned like a boiling cauldron, bubbling up enormous air pockets.
Immediately after, a dense swarm of skeletons and corpses emerged from the surging river. They wore ancient, tattered armor, wielded rusted weapons, and were covered head to toe in water plants and mud. These corpses bore the same defining features as the Stone Men—their bodies completely encrusted with stone-like objects.
...
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