Game World: I Can Share Talents-Chapter 71: Diligent Practice Brings Strength

Chapter 71: Chapter 71: Diligent Practice Brings Strength

"Hmph, Yonglan Knights are all like that."

Yolanda pouted, quietly expressing her disdain for the group’s insane behavior.

The school she adhered to was the [River of Qinghui], a fighting style that required immense calculation and thought. It was an extremely calm and rational discipline, almost a Supreme Technique, and completely at odds with these brutes.

’Just a bunch of stat-junkies. We skill-based players look down on them.’ 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

The Yonglan Knights charged out first, leaving the Resistance Army no choice but to follow. As everyone prepared their gear for the brutal, suicidal battle to come, Westheid walked over to Solren’s side.

"Lord Solren, do you want to win?"

The Sword Saint, who had been meditating with his eyes closed, opened them at these words and looked at Westheid.

"Win?"

"To let the vast majority of people on the Kepal Plain survive, without having to fear pursuit from the Dragon Race."

Solren immediately grabbed Westheid’s shoulders. "Do you have a plan? Why are you only telling me now!?"

Westheid said calmly, "It’s simple. We just have to kill Scorching Wings."

’If we just kill the enemy, won’t everyone be protected?’

This had been Westheid’s strategy from the very beginning.

’You’re just messing with me!’

The Sword Saint’s spirit immediately deflated. He shook his head and said:

"I cannot defeat Scorching Wings."

This was not false modesty, but a fact. Westheid understood the gap between them even more clearly than Solren did.

Under normal circumstances, a Legendary Human could never defeat a Legendary True Dragon alone. Although both were of the Legendary Tier, that tier was merely the beginning of the journey from Extraordinary to Saint. The gap between individuals could be greater than that between a man and a dog.

The very template between a Giant Dragon and a human was separated by a chasm-like gap.

Even if you made five copies of Solren and stacked them together, they still wouldn’t be a match.

Sudden power-ups, determination, faith... none of it mattered. If you can’t win, you can’t win.

"Of course. That’s why I need you to hold off Scorching Wings for as long as you can... The one who can truly deal a fatal blow to Scorching Wings is Reiya."

Westheid looked toward the Silver-haired Dragon Lady. She was regulating her breathing, and pale blue arcs of electricity crackled with each exhale.

"Dragon Thunder... Dragon Thunder?"

Solren immediately realized what Westheid was thinking.

If anyone present had the ability to slay a Legendary Giant Dragon, it had to be Reiya.

The Dragon Thunder inherited from the [Star Abyss Wings] was pure destruction from beyond the Star Sea. It was not only proof of being a Dragon among Dragons but also the authority to pass judgment on the Dragon Race.

Dragon Thunder inherently dealt true damage. Against the Dragon Race, that true damage had an eight-times critical multiplier. It was a super-effective attack among super-effective attacks, one that held the potential to defy tiers and create a miracle.

But this was only a theoretical possibility.

"Yes. But at least half of the Giant Dragons that Scorching Wings brought must be killed by Reiya, otherwise there’s no guarantee."

Westheid said seriously, "We need time. And it would be best if we could weaken Scorching Wings’s combat power as well."

"...I understand. I will buy you time."

After meeting Westheid’s deep violet eyes for a moment, Solren nodded heavily, then turned and leaped out of the basement.

His retreating figure was resolute, as if he had made some sort of final decision.

Following the Sword Saint, the members of the Resistance Army filed out as well.

Emerging from the sanctuary-like basement, they were immediately met with a scorching gale that made it difficult to even open their eyes.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but ruin and desolation.

The [Celestial Fire Falls] from Scorching Wings had not lasted long and had already ceased, but the destruction it caused was staggering.

The mountains and vegetation, formed over countless eons, had been almost completely incinerated. The lush, dense forests and majestic, sprawling cliffs were no more.

All that remained was a ravaged landscape baptized by the waterfall of celestial fire. Sporadic patches of green struggled to exist amidst endless embers, while most of the mountains were reduced to jagged rock pillars still being eroded by lava.

As for the Resistance Army’s fortress?

It was ruins within ruins. Not a single structure remained intact. What lay before them was an apocalyptic wasteland of unprecedented emptiness.

The crimson of spreading flames filled the sky, while simmering afterheat rose from the ground.

"WHOOSH— WHOOSH—"

One Giant Dragon after another skimmed across the ground, already clashing with the hot-blooded Yonglan Knights.

The Giant Dragons chanted Dragon Language Magic that tore the earth asunder, brandishing their fangs and claws. Accompanied by the sound of rending air and the sharp clang of metal on metal, the already devastated ruins were ravaged over and over.

But the Legendary True Dragon did not participate in this skirmish.

Scorching Wings’s colossal body descended to a low altitude. Its two hind legs rested on a small, melted-down mountain as it raised its long neck. Beneath its obsidian-like Dragon Scales, an endless torrent of true crimson embers seemed to surge.

Its draconic wings were folded behind it, beating slowly. A thick, black-and-yellow fire oil flowed along their edges.

Scorching Wings’s posture was even elegant and majestic, like a king surveying his domain, waiting for his subjects to seek an audience.

He was waiting for the Legendary Sword Saint. Besides Solren, no one else was worthy of his concern.

When both sides possessed Legendary Powerhouses, the mode of war was commonly acknowledged to split into two battlefields: one for Legends, and another for mortals.

King against king, general against general.

Solren, of course, knew this. He stepped onto the vitrified ground, walking toward Scorching Wings one step at a time.

"Hoh, so the rat has finally come out of its hole."

Scorching Wings’s crimson, vertical pupils stared at the approaching Solren as it exhaled a breath like thick smoke.

"To think that under My rule, a great rat has been hiding for decades. Heh, what a surprise. You humans... every few decades, a great rat like you appears. It’s impossible to stamp you all out."

Solren nodded at his words. "That’s right. Even if slaves are born slaves, some will still want to look up at the sky, even if it is the Dragon Race’s private domain. And how can those who have seen the blue of the sky tolerate the existence of chains?"

"BOOM—"

Scorching Wings’s claw slammed down, shaking the earth and sending shattered rock flying into Solren’s face.

"You think you’re funny? That you’re great? A Hero of humanity... I grew tired of killing things like that long ago! Do you actually think you can defeat me?!"

"I never held such a vain hope."

Facing Scorching Wings’s mocking question, the Sword Saint silently wiped the dust from his face. He sank slightly at the knees, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword.

He held no hope for the chance of victory Westheid had mentioned, nor was he seeking that slim miracle.

Whether victory was possible or not, his answer remained the same.

"A slave cannot defeat a tyrant. I know that better than anyone. Even so, my choice is not to kneel, but to draw my sword against that tyrant!"

Taking a step forward, Solren took a deep breath and drew his long saber.

From the first time he picked up a blade in his childhood and tried to swing it, to fighting Dragon Beasts to the death, to later slaying a Giant Dragon, traveling the world, and establishing the Resistance Army...

Tens of thousands of days and nights of ceaseless sword practice, all his memories flashing before his eyes like a spinning lantern, coalesced into this single moment.

He had reached the summit of mastery.

"Hard work brings power, and discipline has borne fruit!"