The Corrupted Dragon that Rosalia transformed into could not fly. The dragon wings growing from its waist swept outward, smashing the wooden fortifications of the first defensive line and flinging the surrounding corpses away as if they were toys. Countless pieces of debris scattered in all directions.
A sandstorm rose instantly, chaos erupting everywhere. Some soldiers broke and fled, while others fought corrupted corpses amid the turmoil. Human screams and the sounds of falling objects filled the air.
What had been a clear and controllable situation was instantly stirred into muddy chaos.
Those enormous pupils, radiating a cold aura of death, stared lifelessly at everything on the ground. Then the dragon's massive body began to move, like an ancient machine clogged with cobwebs—each step shaking loose huge chunks of rotten flesh and strands of blood.
