The High Elves, summoned back on orders, had already rushed to the scene upon hearing the news.
But upon abruptly encountering the gruesome and terrifying sight of the battlefield, they were all shocked by the intensity that far exceeded expectations.
"Wasn’t it said to be just one Red Dragon whelp?"
They would even believe it if they were told it was a chance encounter with a young Red Dragon in heat!
"Commander! Are you alright?" Several Elf knights hurried forward, and a Spellcaster quickly cast Elemental Energy Protection and Rapid Healing.
But Yevgeny pushed them away, enduring the pain in her body.
"Quick! Pursue! Towards the South Foothills, spread out and search. That Red Dragon can’t have gone far with just a burst of Dragon Breath. We must find them!"
"Wait! They are also seriously injured, especially that Red Dragon. This time, we must not engage with force. Once you find them, just secure their position and wait for me!"
"Understood, Your Excellency!" The Elves, though their faces showed reluctance, did not refuse.
At least this time, they weren’t being sent to clash directly with a Dragon.
The Elves spread out, but as time passed, Yevgeny, an old fox of the battlefield, quickly sensed something amiss.
That Red Dragon, if it continued to breathe fire at that intensity, could at most have covered about ten miles, even if it spat out its lungs.
But she had already been waiting at the original spot for almost four hours, yet not a single scout had returned to report.
Is there a third party involved?!
This highly unsettling possibility immediately leaped to her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
Those Barbarians? Impossible! They absolutely don’t have the guts for this!
Could it be that the Crimson Calamity knows? No, if Pafila had been awakened, I definitely wouldn’t still be here.
Biting her thumb, Yevgeny’s eyes darted about as she mused self-mockingly, Could it be other Dragons then?
Or... have our mortal enemies, the Drow Elves, landed?
Yevgeny’s pupils contracted sharply, then slowly relaxed, as if she had found the answer. She smiled in relief.
Yes, at such a time, it seemed only the Drow Elves’ Shadow Dancers could carry out such an act without a trace!
"Ayena, ride the pegasus around the port, return to Dewensen, and inform the Lord of my plans and everything that has transpired here."
"Yes, Ma’am!" Her deputy, Ayena, immediately accepted the command.
This time, however, she hesitated slightly. "And you, Commander?"
"Me? Of course, I shall continue fighting for my lifelong dream of becoming an honored Dragon Knight."
Ayena opened her mouth as if to protest but ultimately remained silent. Instead, she gave her commander a final, serious, and respectful look.
"May the Elf gods bless you, and I shall not fail my mission!"
"Go," Yevgeny waved her hand.
Watching her most trusted confidant ride the pegasus into the distance, Yevgeny then issued her next orders. "All remaining units, except for the Moonshadow Assassin squad!"
"Ma’am!" the Elves responded, and as if realizing the gravity of the situation, they all stepped forward in unison.
"You are to continue your cautious search of the South Foothills," Yevgeny commanded them. "You must find them before those Drow do. Do not startle them, and do not allow the Drow to approach them. Can you do that?"
"We will do our utmost!" they declared.
"Good. Your utmost will be sufficient. Go."
With the main force departed, Yevgeny turned to gaze at the few Moonshadow Assassins left behind.
"It’s just you left. Are you willing to follow me to fight a war we are destined to lose against our sworn enemies, the Drow Elves?"
"We shall gladly go!"
"Good. Then let’s set out. Our old friends might already be waiting for us at the port."
Yevgeny looked towards the West Coast Port, took a deep breath, and revealed a carefree and brilliant smile.
She was just like the young woman who had enlisted years ago, filled with the dream of becoming a Dragon Knight and leading the Dragon Cavalry Legion to reclaim Central Earth.
If this is destiny...
She would carry her dreams with her, even if it meant drowning.
At the South Foothills, a Drow Mage, covered in blood, staggered towards Hiatt. Though disheveled, Hiatt’s eyes were sharp. The Mage sounded pitifully wretched as she reported, "Boss, just as you predicted, those High Elves have deployed their reserve forces too."
As she looked around, she nearly collapsed. "No way... is it just the two of us left?"
But her eyes showed not the slightest sorrow for the loss of her companions or their desertion. Instead, she played up her pitiable state. "It makes sense, though. I don’t know which Elven lord those High Elves serve, but they’re incredibly strong. I just encountered a Sword Dancer on my way back. If I hadn’t saved one spell slot, I would’ve died right there."
"Cut the chatter," Hiatt said, seeming inexplicably irritable.
"...Boss, just say it. Are we going after those two young Dragons, or are we heading back to the port to sneak onto a ship and go home?"
As if by a twist of fate, the same choice that High Elf Yevgeny had faced now confronted the Drow, Hiatt.
Yevgeny had chosen to pursue both. Hiatt, however, after a moment of gloom, chuckled coldly. "Home? What home do we Drow even have?"
"So, we’re going after the Dragons?"
"No, we’re going to the port," Hiatt said, her tone almost indifferent yet resolute.
She had wandered the Old Continent futilely for five years. The opportunity she had awaited for so long had finally arrived, and she could not choose to give it up now.
"What? But those two Dragons looked like they were at their limit... they might have already fallen into a deep sleep by now. And if we head to the port, there are only two of us left."
"At their limit? I thought the same thing five years ago. And what was the result?"
Hiatt gave the Mage a look one might reserve for an idiot. It was a miracle this creature, with her apparent intellectual deficits, had even become a Spellcaster.
"Let’s go. We’re... going home."
Things had reached an irreversible point. If she didn’t set out for home now...
She didn’t know if her young brother, Kraidian, would even survive his upcoming coming-of-age ceremony.
Her only hope, mired as she was in deep trouble, was to embark on the journey to Spider Nest City and take Kraidian with her, no matter the cost.
"As for those two Dragons, there will be time for them later. Right now, we can’t afford to provoke either one."
The two remaining Drow felt a despondency nearly as profound as High Elf Yevgeny’s. Just as they set out for the West Coast Port, a voice—familiar yet terrifyingly bone-chilling—rang out from behind them:
"Oh? So, after these five years of hardship, you seem to have gained some self-awareness, my dear Drow lady."
Before Hiatt could react, the Mage—truly an unreliable teammate—immediately dropped to her knees. She surrendered in a flood of tears, wailing, "I’m sorry! Please, don’t kill me! I was wrong! We truly can’t afford to provoke you! As an apology for our past disrespect, I’ll do anything you ask!"
Hiatt rubbed her forehead, which felt as if it might split open on the spot.
In that instant, having made some unknown decision, she turned around with an air of resignation.
"Long time no see, Mr. Dragon."
"After five years, you’ve grown even more majestic and imposing."
She looked up at the Red Dragon, David, whose injured wing was being supported by the Silver Dragon, Tania. Hiatt then unhooked her Drow scimitar and Blackglow Dagger, dropped them to the ground, and slowly raised her empty hands, a slight smile on her face.
"Just like her, as long as you let me live, I’ll do anything."