He couldn't figure out what this dragon woman wanted to do, or what role she could play in his future plans, but after some thought, he could only let her follow. Ahead was a canyon, dozens of meters wide, with some watchtowers on the west side; it was clearly a boundary line, and once past here, one would reach the territory of the flying dragons.
"Hey, do you want me to take you across?"
Lansseax asked, catching up with great interest. "How would you take me?"
"By riding on my back, of course, to carry you over so you don't get called a good-for-nothing."
She has a bit of self-awareness. No, wait, am I going to be a dragon knight this soon? Throne looked over, startled, and asked, "Didn't you say you couldn't turn into a dragon?"
"With that small frame of yours, it's fine for me to carry you in human form."
Uh, that doesn't seem right. Throne imagined riding a dragon; straddling Lansseax's neck wasn't very dignified, and being carried bridal-style by her would be too embarrassing.
"No need."
"You aren't shy, are you?"
"That's not it. There are sentries over there; if I get discovered, how would I explain it? No human grows four wings, right?"
Throne found a good excuse. Just kill them all, and it'll be over. Lansseax thought casually, then asked curiously, "Then how are you going to get across?"
"I'm thinking of a way."
Actually, it wasn't difficult; Starlight Leap could cross it in an instant, but he avoided using it when possible.
After all, Starlight movement and Thops's Barrier had almost become his signature magic, making them easy to expose. Hmm, it's best if Lansseax doesn't expose herself either; I don't want to end up fighting the Redmane before I've even cut down a few flying dragons.
After thinking for a few seconds, Throne retreated to a secluded spot, first letting Melina return to her doll form, then blew his whistle. Particles emerged, and a sturdy Spirit Steed appeared beside him.
Torrent was as enthusiastic as ever, frantically licking Throne's face, then nudging his hand with its head as if asking for pets, but after a moment, it seemed to sense something and looked to the side. It immediately retreated a few steps, seemingly instinctively afraid, but feeling it had lost face, it forced its head up.
"Huh, this Spirit Steed is interesting."
Lansseax's eyes lit up, clearly not just because of its lifelike demeanor, but because of Torrent's essence. She walked up quickly and hugged Torrent's neck, scratching it vigorously. At first, the Spirit Steed resisted a bit, but later it turned into a cat enjoying itself. As expected of a veteran, she found Torrent's sweet spot so easily.
Throne was somewhat impressed, but with Melina's precedent in mind, he immediately snatched the Spirit Steed back.
"Hey, hey, hey, this is my horse."
"Tsk, stingy. But you really are special; everything around you is very interesting." Lansseax said, suddenly full of interest.
"Heh, what you see is just the tip of the iceberg."
"Then that makes me look forward to it even more."
The dragon woman felt she hadn't chosen the wrong person. Looking at the lively Spirit Steed, she suddenly added, "By the way, do you want her to take human form?"
What? That's possible? Throne looked up in astonishment, thinking, could this Ancient Dragon have mastered some special magic to turn into a human form?
He then glanced at Torrent, imagining what the little mare would look like as a human. She must be cute, clingy, and full of energy.
"Can you do it?"
Throne became interested too; having ridden Torrent for so long, this could be a way to repay it.
"It's difficult, but possible. Once I recover from my injuries, I can study it carefully. Don't thank me; this is something I'm very interested in."
Lansseax was somewhat like Sellen, doing things entirely based on interest.
"Then when can you recover?"
"Time is the best medicine."
The dragon woman smoothed her hair and smiled charmingly, "Why don't you try replenishing me with dragon's power?"
A veteran indeed. She wasn't someone to be trifled with.
Throne didn't understand what replenishing magic meant in The Lands Between, but he knew this foul-smelling dragon was mocking him. He extended his hand again.
"Get on. I'll take you across."
"Is all this trouble really necessary?"
"I told you already—don't cause trouble for me."
Lansseax didn't argue. She grabbed his hand, swung onto the horse, and wrapped her arms around Throne's waist with practiced ease.
"Could this be your real goal?" she teased.
The people Throne had met before were either reserved or dull. He still remembered how cautious Melina had been the first time they rode together. This shameless dragon was something else entirely. He shifted uncomfortably.
"Nonsense. Hold on tight."
Gravity Magic enveloped Torrent in a purple glow, and the Spirit Steed became as light as a swallow. Its speed surged as it charged toward the canyon. The rapid drumming of its hooves drew the attention of the stationed soldiers.
"Look, someone's committing suicide."
Who would dare jump across a canyon dozens of meters wide?
But if it was suicide, it seemed a bit too heroic. Before they could intervene, the horse leaped, its body stretching as if it were flying. After gliding for a moment, it began to fall. Then, impossibly, it stepped on the air and leaped again, barely landing on the other side.
The soldiers stared in disbelief. A horse capable of a mid-air double jump? And such an incredible distance?
"Hey, did I see that right? How is that even possible?"
One soldier, still dazed, turned to his companion and spread his hands.
"I don't know. But that was really cool."
Torrent's hooves struck the ground heavily. The horse spun twice to dissipate the momentum.
Throne scanned the horizon. Vast mountains stretched like a sea, rolling hills everywhere, no signs of civilization. He took a breath and sensed something unique. His frown deepened as he turned east.
On a hilltop, two behemoths spread their wings.
Clearly, the flying dragons weren't fools. They had defensive forces at the border and reacted instantly to Throne's charge.
"So welcoming?" Throne smiled and called over his shoulder, "Hey, do you want to get down?"
"Do you need help?"
"No. Just hold on tight."
Throne didn't reach for his Flowing Curved Sword. Instead, he gripped a bright blue Crystal Spear and tugged the reins. Torrent reared, lifting its front hooves.
In the bleak autumn wind, with his spear held horizontally, Throne charged toward the flying dragons like an arrow loosed from a bow.
The terrain in northern Caelid was relatively flat, dotted with small hills and sparse trees. As Throne rode at full speed, he vanished from the sight of the Redmane soldiers across the canyon.
Clop, clop, clop... The hooves were light, the autumn wind fierce. The two brown flying dragons hadn't expected this human to charge instead of flee.
They hesitated, then spread their wings. The massive beasts rose from the ground, their open mouths unleashing wild roars. Torrent, no ordinary warhorse, wasn't intimidated. It ran faster.
Whoosh—
Two pillars of fire erupted from the sky, engulfing the path of Throne's charge. The heat seared his skin.
"Stop!" he shouted.
Clatter! Torrent obeyed instantly. All four hooves dug deep into the soil. Fortunately, the Spirit Steed wasn't flesh and blood; its front legs didn't break. Throne, however, used the momentum to hurl his spear.
"Get down here!"
The spear, crafted entirely of crystal, flew true.
The spear left his grip and punched straight through the pillar of fire before burying itself in a flying dragon's belly. A roar split the sky—half fury, half agony.
The wounded beast thrashed, wings beating wildly to escape. Silver flashed. The Flowing Curved Sword coiled around its wing like a serpent. Throne rode the spear's trajectory, swinging through the air. What kind of mad maneuver was this? The dragon barely had time to process before the figure closed in, left hand raised, a blade of pure light blazing to life.
"Banzai, Caria!"
Throne wasn't fearless—he was beyond it. A lunatic's grin split his blood-streaked face as he shot past the dragon. The Carian Greatsword carved through scale and sinew, shearing off most of the wing. The beast spiraled, unbalanced, plummeting toward earth.
Darkness swallowed Throne's vision mid-flight. The second dragon had circled ahead, tail raised like a whip. Gravity Magic. Starlight Leap. His body dropped like a stone, the tail lashing empty air where he'd been. As the dragon dove, he dissolved into stardust.
Only one dragon remained airborne, head swiveling in confusion. Below, its companion writhed in a growing pool of blood, dust still settling from the crash. Where was the human? The beast wasn't quick-witted. It peered, sniffed—then finally looked down.
A silver sword coiled around its hind claw. At the end dangled Throne, smiling up sweetly. The dragon's roar died in its throat as his left hand moved faster than its breath. A sphere of magic light rocketed up.
"Shut your damn mouth!"
Comet Azur met dragonfire. The blue energy tore through the flame like water through paper, surging upward until it detonated against the beast's skull. Throne's grip went slack. The dragon tumbled, head wreathed in white smoke.
Suddenly, he was on top, gravity yanking him earthward. The ground rushed up, a hundred meters shrinking to fifty, to twenty—Throne clasped his hands into a single fist. Storm Hammer. The air screamed.
BOOM. The punch slammed the dazed dragon into crimson soil, cratering the earth. Updrafts slowed Throne's fall. For a heartbeat, he hovered—then legs spread, a shadow surged beneath him. Torrent's hooves found air.
"Good boy."
Ten meters up, Throne landed smooth in the saddle. Right hand drawing his spear, left tightening the reins. Torrent read his intent—before they'd even touched down, the steed kicked off nothing. Double Jump. They shot forward like an arrow.
Dust exploded as a tail lashed through where they'd been. The first dragon, wing mangled, had dragged itself up for one last strike. Missed. Throne grinned. Horse and rider moved as one. The spear thrust down at the grounded beast.
The magic-reinforced blade pierced through the scales and stabbed deep into the flying dragon's body. The impact flipped it onto its back. Before it could rise, gold filled its vision—an axe, falling. The head rolled before the body knew it was dead.
Throne moved with none of a Flowing Swordsman's grace now. The Spirit Steed's hooves carved crescent scars in the earth as they charged. The remaining dragon—its snout still steaming—didn't breathe fire. It spread tattered wings to flee.
Not a chance.
The golden battle axe left his hand with a whip-crack sound, burying itself in the beast's chest. Before it could scream, Throne's left hand clenched. A spear of condensed light formed in his grip. Torrent's momentum carried them forward, driving the luminous weapon straight through scaled hide and into the dragon's heart.
A wet thud echoed behind them. The Spirit Steed skidded another twenty paces before halting. Throne adjusted his blood-splattered blue coat, glancing at the twin corpses. He tilted his head without turning.
"What do you think?"
Lansseax stood close enough to smell the iron tang rising from the slaughter. Her vertical pupils—usually molten gold—flickered with something like recognition. No teasing smirk twisted her lips now. The Ancient Dragon studied him with reptilian intensity.
"You are strong."
The kills had been surgical. A storm given form. These were sky monarchs, however diminished. She hadn't expected them to fall like wheat before the scythe.
"My opinion shifts."
Her claws flexed unconsciously.
"Strip away the charm, the wit... at your core, you remain a butcher."
A good thing she'd tempered her provocations.
"Flattering."
Throne wiped dragon blood from his axe. Charm meant nothing here. In the Lands Between, steel spoke louder than silver tongues. Ranni wouldn't spare a glance for pretty words without strength behind them.
He knew Lansseax's hesitation. Her murmured excuses about timing. He'd show her with blood and broken bone—
The hour had come.
Throne jumped off the warhorse, retrieved his scattered weapons, and severed the dragon heads to complete the mission. The carcasses lay in spreading crimson pools. Such waste. Dragonbone made excellent armor cores. Next time, he'd bring the Carians. A dragon-clad battalion might prove useful.