Roar——

A soul-stirring dragon’s roar frightened the wildlife.

The wilderness beasts that had been trailing the marching army, drooling over human flesh, were trembling all over.

Deep in their bloodline, from the oppressive experiences of their ancestors over countless years, they realized instantly that the giant dragon, long vanished from the West Coast, had returned.

The fear of the king of the sky made them scatter in terror.

"Run, flee."

The roar of the Demon Dragon Ladon was quite hearty, even though he hadn’t expected to be pulled from his slumber by his boss to work.

But the feeling of returning to his homeland filled him with wonder.

The Fire Dragon Head roared, venting its temper for being awoken and its hatred for humans: "Fear, tremble, you tiny insects. Let’s see if your pathetic fire sticks and toys made of iron can withstand the wrath of the great Lord Ladon!"

The Cursed Head sneered: "You think the fire is an idiot, but I don’t think you’re any better. If our past selves hadn’t died, do you think our chances of perishing were greater or of gaining freedom? Besides, I don’t want to go back to that decrepit body anymore."

As he spoke, he exerted himself to open his giant mouth and spewed the Curse Flame.

The Highly Poisonous Head thought it over, reasoning it out, though feeling disgruntled, replied, "No matter what, I am the second smartest dragon among us three brothers."

The magical flames with three attributes burst from their mouths.

But those attributes never even came into play on the ordinary soldiers because the fundamental attribute of their dragon flame is always fire. Under such high temperatures, aging, weakening, slowing, fear, corrosion... all of them hardly had any chance to manifest, leaving only a pile of ashes.

On the "Huerias," Porfirio had gathered more than a dozen mage advisors, diverse in background; some he had personally trained, some worked within the Mexican government, and others he recruited from various places, with varying degrees of power.

He didn’t call on the Knight Order because these two groups couldn’t stand each other. According to the Knight Order’s old ways, these unbelievers, heretics, and pagans should’ve been tied to a pyre; they indeed did so back then.

This caused the ancient Aztec, Ottoman, and Mayan magics in Mexico to be almost entirely lost.

However, foreign sects like Voodoo and the Necromancy Sect, which came with immigrants, managed to grow up arduously right under the Church’s nose, gaining a foothold.

In this era where dragons are almost extinct, a dragon that appears to have just come of age won’t be like killing a young or fledgling dragon, for its bloodline, bones, and scales are not fully developed, offering scant rewards.

Nor will dealing with it demand the heavy cost of battling a mature or ancient dragon.

It is the best keystone for forging the fame of a Dragon Slayer.

Therefore, the dozen-odd mage advisors stepped forward one after another, willing to take on this "arduous" task.

"Mr. President, judging by the size, this dragon might have just come of age, but it is a three-headed mutant, and for hundreds of years, we’ve only heard of the Ottomans raising one, which once brought down the Theodosius Wall with a single Dragon Flame; it’s not something ordinary people can handle."

The sinister Black Robe Mage looked at his colleagues and sneered: "Some people overestimate themselves; getting devoured by the dragon is no big deal, but they don’t realize how many innocent soldiers they’ll drag down into the dragon flame."

The other casters felt indignant but dared not speak out, thinking this member of the Necromancy Sect is quite good at saying sanctimonious things. Who didn’t know that those lunatics yearn for more deaths?

Boom——

Outside the porthole, a sweep of Dragon Flame turned dozens of soldiers to ashes in the blink of an eye. A few who were merely singed by sparks ran but halfway; the poison spreading from their wounds turned their bodies directly into pus.

"We can’t let this Demon Dragon rampage any longer!"

The Black Robe Mage righteously declared, but his eyes brimming with greed as they looked at the Demon Dragon in the sky.

The long-extinct dragon’s worth has skyrocketed; dragon scales, horns, teeth are rare casting materials, let alone, as a caster of the Necromancy Sect, the other less valuable dragon bones and souls in his hands would be treasures.

His teacher once left him a "Book of the Undead," said to be a reward from helping a Ghost Race General in Hell recapture an escaped specter, an Undead Holy Artifact.

Though usable only once, if successful, it could forge a powerful Skeleton Giant Dragon from the dragon’s soul and bones. Not only retaining most of its powers from when alive but it could also continuously refine its body with Death Magic, growing stronger over time.

For a Necromancer, this is far more useful than taming a real dragon. After all, a living dragon wouldn’t be so obedient. Many Dragon Knights serve their dragons every day just like a Knight’s Squire serves their master’s warhorse.

Rather than saying knights enslave dragons, it would be better to say dragons have found themselves a servant.

Porfirio, knowing full well what this guy was, quickly said, "Master Guderian, do you need me to have Diego and Francisco assist you?"

"No need. Although this Demon Dragon is an exotic species, it has only just come of age. If I needed help dealing with such a small dragon, how could I have the face to accept the consultant fee Mr. President gives me annually?"

The Black Robe Mage wore a skin-deep smile, clearly not wanting any of Porfirio’s trusted aides to join the battle and share in the spoils of war.

Porfirio silently cursed, "Sooner or later the Knight Order will tie your miserly self to a stake and burn you," his smile growing more indifferent: "Then, Master Guderian, please act quickly to rid us of the troublesome Demon Dragon."

"Of course!"

Guderian stepped off the Land Cruiser, raised his right hand, and an endless sea of Evil Spirits appeared from the void. They formed a spectral green ocean trying to engulf Demon Dragon Ladon. They struggled to penetrate Ladon’s scales to attack its soul, managing only to gnaw viciously on Ladon’s scale armor with a creaking sound.

The Fire Dragon Head roared in fury, "Impudent!"

The Poison Dragon Head mocked, "Fool, they’re enemies, of course they’re impudent."

The Cursed Dragon Head decisively sought aid, "That caster reeking of death isn’t weak, Boss, shouldn’t you lend a hand?"

The young King on the dragon’s back did not reply, only looked at Guderian with a hint of nostalgia.

He knew this guy.

Moreover, it was a minor boss he personally designed; in the newbie storyline, it was personally executed by Prajna, marking the first highlight moment of this gifted Six-star storyline.

"The highlight meant for Prajna, let her have it."

...

"The antimagic scale armor of a Giant Dragon!"

Seeing his attack failed, Guderian appeared even more excited. He rubbed his hands; no wonder the dragon’s scales were so valuable. With its massive size, this Demon Dragon’s scale armor could at least create dozens of sets of Dragon Scale Armor.

Just those alone were worth tens of millions of British Pounds, and the nobility never spared any expense when it came to their personal safety.

Guderian placed his hand on the back of his neck, ripping open his bloody flesh with a tearing sound and drawing forth a bony spine without a trace of blood.

Without the spine, his body did not collapse but instead grinned full of yellow teeth, and struck the Spine Staff in his hand on the ground with force.

In the next moment, the sparsely vegetated desert cracked open with a massive fissure, which seemed to connect with Hell, from which resounded harrowing wails, and scarlet eyes lit up within.

...

Meanwhile, at the tail end of the Mexican army, clouds of dust billowed as thousands of lightly armed cavalrymen, wearing cowboy hats and carrying revolvers and sabers, rushed forth, the Lone Star Banner flying high to signify their identity.

"It’s the Texas Rangers!"

Exclaimed a seasoned Mexican soldier, who had dealt with the Texans before.

Among the Texans, the Cowboys are best known for their swift and nimble Hunter Cavalry. Skilled in mounted shooting, they disrupt formations with distant gunfire before commencing a charge, a nightmare in the eyes of the Mexican Border Guard.

Behind the Texas Cowboys, a Double-headed Eagle flag stood out prominently.

These were lancers, seemingly clad in various armor, as if they had stepped across time from the Middle Ages!

In this era, traditional lancers hadn’t entirely disappeared from the stage. The German Federation, Tsarist Russia, Hungary, and the completely partitioned Boli Federation into tsar-ruled states still maintained classic cavalry units wielding lances.

Charles, the first of the Dragon Blood kin, was a little stunned watching this scene: "So in this trial, this is the kind of enemy we have to face?"

Orhan scratched his head as he looked at the strikingly prominent three enormous Land Cruisers: "I thought Urban’s cannons were intimidating enough. The development of gunpowder weapons sure has been swift."