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Rebirth as a Time Dragon: A DND Chronicle

The endless, cold, hard ice fields of the far north. Winter wolves stalk, frost tigers hiss and giants roar. ......... Many creatures brave the snowy skies to fight for survival. At the same time, a white dragon hatchling with the power of time breaks out of its shell and... ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.

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247 Chs

Chapter 141: Something is Amiss

High-tier spells possess formidable power, which, when unleashed on densely packed battlefields, can only be described as terrifying. Moreover, high-tier casters have powerful mental abilities, allowing them to control their magic with precision and minimize the risk of harming their allies.

However, such control is not entirely foolproof.

Even the most powerful casters, including legendary mages, can inadvertently harm friendly troops caught in the area of effect when casting spells commensurate with their own level.

Or rather, most spells, like the Great Sun Fireball, do not discriminate between friend and foe.

Under the sweep of high-tier spells, both the soldiers of the Golden Alliance and the troops of Dimos resemble lambs to the slaughter on a grindstone.

Only high-ranking warriors or quick-reacting casters, if struck by a high-tier spell, might manage to move out of the area in time to buy themselves a few more moments of life.

As for the lowest ranks, aside from being physically more robust, these soldiers are not much better off than ordinary people and must leave their fate to the whims of Lady Luck.

Fortunately, while the destructive power of high-tier spells is horrifying, their range remains limited. Moreover, high-tier casters are constrained by their magical power and cannot continuously employ high-tier spells. After the initial tsunami-like onslaught, they gradually shift to mid or lower-tier spells to conserve mana.

Zooming out to view the entire battlefield reveals a clash of over thirty high-tier casters. Although the initial exchange caused tremendous casualties on both sides, the rate of attrition has significantly slowed as their magical power wanes.

Nevertheless, the spells now cast by these high-tier casters, whether mid or low-tier, still possess significantly greater power than those wielded by ordinary casters.

Garon watches the battle, now heated to a white-hot intensity, his vision nearly filled by the brilliance of spells.

Several true dragons are no longer holding back. Initially tossing each other ineffectual spells, they now line up in the high sky, using air currents to hover and look down on the struggling troops below.

In this war, casters represent the strategic power of both sides, capable of shining the brightest light.

From thousands of meters up, benefiting from a broad view, Garon can clearly observe the strengths and weaknesses of both sides.

To him, the wave of the Golden Alliance advances slowly yet as steadfast as a mountain, gradually swallowing the Dimos soldiers in their pale silver armor.

As Matthew had initially stated, this battle is one for closure.

The Golden Alliance, anticipating some resistance given the kingdom's thousand-year legacy, even if decayed, didn't expect much of a challenge given the vast disparity in power.

The Golden Alliance outnumbers the Dimos soldiers by about three to one, with twice the high-level power, including an almost insurmountable ninth-circle illusionist archmage.

Such a disparity suggests that, barring unforeseen circumstances, Dimos' resistance will inevitably end in defeat.

As time passes, what seemed like a fiery and bloody sunset fades, replaced by a somber and deep night.

On this starless, moonless night of autumn, the cool breeze continually sweeps across.

In the vast plains of Baki, where darkness would normally prevail, the area is as bright as day due to the relentless burst of spell light, weaving a stunning yet deadly tapestry of colors.

Garon, with a grave expression, carefully watches the high-tier casters of both armies.

Both the Golden Alliance and Dimos casters have expended much of their magic, less than half remaining.

Exhaustion with a tinge of excitement is evident among the Golden Alliance casters, whereas those from Dimos display weariness tinged with numbness.

This is because, despite the dimmed light under the night sky, the still-bright golden wave has now reached less than two hundred meters from the ironstone defense line.

The Dimos soldiers sent to meet the enemy are almost entirely annihilated in the golden wave.

However, the Golden Alliance also suffers considerable casualties, losing about a quarter of their forces.

Though it is a battle for closure, it is clearly not as effortless as Matthew had described.

Or rather, their notion of ease is based on the absence of losses among the high-level forces, with the lives of ordinary soldiers deemed inconsequential.

"But why don't they retreat when they can't hold their ground and then defend using the ironstone line?"

Garon is puzzled. If the Dimos soldiers had retreated immediately upon finding themselves at a disadvantage and focused solely on defense, leveraging the ironstone defense line, they surely could have lasted longer and inflicted more casualties on the Golden Alliance.

Yet they did not do so.

When the Dimos soldiers left the ironstone line to meet the enemy, the massive gates behind them were already firmly shut, seemingly cutting off their retreat.

Those remaining on the ironstone line included only a few heavy crossbowmen and casters from various magical schools.

Such a desperate move left the

 Dimos soldiers nearly annihilated but also inflicted significant losses on the Golden Alliance at once.

The blood-soaked land, once verdantly green, now turned a bloody red, with the Golden Alliance's golden armor no longer pristine but splattered with mottled blood that the wind had dried and caked onto the armor, emitting a pungent stench.

From high above, Garon gazes down, feeling an uneasy sense of wrongness.

"Jeez, these humans are really courting death. If they had retreated while fighting, they wouldn't have ended up in such a dire state," Roel remarks, amazed at the Dimos soldiers' suicidal behavior.

The female red dragon nods in agreement, saying, "Human thoughts are complex, and their actions unpredictable. Whatever they do, nothing surprises me."

Garon's gaze shifts between Roel and the female red dragon, surprised to find them closer than usual.

What had happened? The female red dragon had initially resisted, hadn't she? Focused on the evolving situation on the battlefield below, Garon had no idea how Roel had managed to change the female red dragon's mind.

Meanwhile, Roel, noticing Garon's inquisitive look, proudly raises his head and glances at the female red dragon before introducing Garon, saying, "This is Lord Garon, the Eternal Dragon, whom I serve."

"I promised you that you could join me in entering the lava demi-plane, and Lord Garon holds the key to the portal."

Garon: Well, that explains it.

Roel had told the female red dragon about the lava demi-plane, inviting her to enter it with him, and she, unable to resist the allure, agreed to Roel's courtship.

After all, the female red dragon was also of age to seek a mate. Although Roel wasn't as impressive as Garon, he wasn't bad-looking for a red dragon, so she reluctantly agreed.

"This is Grelsha, my mate," Roel introduces the female red dragon, laughing proudly.

Then hesitantly, Roel asks Garon, "Lord, you wouldn't deny my mate entry into the lava demi-plane, would you?"

Garon doesn't respond to the red dragon but turns to Grelsha, saying slowly, "If you can serve me as Roel does, I'll grant you the opportunity to join us."

"In the lava demi-plane, any treasure you find on your own is yours. However, you must obey my commands and pledge your loyalty to me."

Grelsha's draconic face shows hesitation as she considers Garon's words.

From Roel's description, she knew Garon wasn't a silver dragon but a powerful, mysterious draconic entity. The fact that Roel, a stronger red dragon, had pledged loyalty also indirectly confirmed the silver dragon's formidable strength.

After a moment's thought, Grelsha finally cannot resist the temptation of the fire and earth quasi-elemental plane. She bows her head, pledging loyalty to Garon.

However, she commits to half the term of loyalty that Roel had, leaving herself an out.

Meanwhile, as the Golden Alliance nearly breaches the city gates below, Aiseya rises, enveloped in a white light, and gently addresses the remaining Dimos casters on the ironstone line, "Gentlemen, the situation is clear. Will you continue to resist?"

Silence follows; no one responds.

After a pause, she sighs and says, "We are all casters in pursuit of truth, aware of how arduous this path can be. I do not wish to make things difficult for you."

"If you surrender now and allow me to cast an anti-magic spell on you, I can assure you that once the war is over, you will all be unharmed and free to continue exploring the mysteries of magic."

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