Chapter 110: Dragon Tail, Not Lobster Tail
Poison attacks are a very unique damage type, including spell poison and creature poison, sometimes with additional poisoning, paralysis, and other statuses.
It does not belong to elements and can only be resisted with constitution.
Without relevant resistance or equipment, one will die miserably, just like these Kobolds.
Anse put the magic telescope to his eye, cautiously observing the surrounding environment, and found no danger or abnormality.
Blue Water City was almost empty, with only some of the old and weak left, and then a group of people in blue robes searching around for something.
“Who are they?” Illyas frowned slightly.
“Blue Flame Cult, an evil cult organization that has been lingering around the battlefield last night collecting Dragon Blood.” Anse pointed to the group of people in the distance handling Wyvern corpses and said.
Strictly speaking, these are all loot from that bald Big Shot, and the Blue Flame Cult is taking them without permission.
Illyas gave them a sidelong glance and continued flying forward: “Ignore them for now, where is the final battle location?”
“The Bay, by the Dock.” Anse reached out and pointed below.
The magic carpet descended in altitude, levitating dozens of meters above the sea surface.
After a small half day, the color of the seawater had returned to normal, basically no longer poisoned, but Merfolk corpses were floating along the shore, looking somewhat horrifying.
There were several small boats wandering back and forth in the Bay, with people in blue robes on them, as if afraid others wouldn’t recognize them.
“The Green Dragon should not be dead.” Anse inferred.
If the Green Dragon was dead, the Wyverns and Half-Dragon Persons would not retreat, but would go mad with revenge, striving to show loyalty to avoid accountability from the Green Dragon Queen.
Therefore, the Green Dragon was probably seriously injured and had retreated under the escort of the Half-Dragon commander and Wyvern Guard.
If so, that man named Stol was probably in grave danger.
Illyas also thought of this, a chill appearing in her eyes.
She turned to look at Anse, silently pointing her wand downward: “Your turn.”
“Ah, I’m going into the water to search?” Anse said in surprise, “Isn’t there any magic seal that can locate and track?”
“If there was, why would I need you?” Illyas glanced at the telescope in his hand.
“Got it.” Anse sighed inwardly; taking people’s money means handling their troubles, not to mention he didn’t want to delay any longer.
He put away the telescope and leaped forward, diving headfirst into the water.
The moment he entered the water, he had transformed into a Half-Dragon Person; this state was stronger than the Polymorph’s aquatic adaptation, not only allowing free breathing, but also enabling Dragon Eyes to see underwater.
The Dock Area was very large and not easy to search. Just as he was wondering where to start, he “smelled” the scent of a True Dragon.
‘Dragon Blood!’
Dragon Blood contains extraordinary power. It is said that killing a Dragon or witnessing a Dragon’s death may grant Dragon Legacy, mastering abilities unique to Dragonkin, and bathing in Dragon Blood also has a probability of gaining Dragon Power.
‘It might be flesh or scales fallen from the Dragon; let’s follow and see.’ Anse inferred.
He opened all his senses, his long tail swaying flexibly like a fish, quickly tracking the Dragon Blood scent, and soon delved into the interior of the Bay.
At one point, a flash of green appeared on the seabed ahead, with clear scale textures visible; he was startled and immediately stopped, holding his breath.
After a long while, the green scales remained completely still.
He quietly approached, the green part growing larger; it was not the broken scale flesh he expected, but a slender Dragon Tail.
‘No way, no way, could it be seriously injured and dying, or already dead here?’ He couldn’t help but feel his heart pounding.
He continued swimming along the tail, keeping some distance, not rashly touching it.
A few seconds later, a tall back silhouette appeared; he was straddling the Dragon Tail, with a straight back and head slightly lowered.
Anse’s heart skipped a beat; he circled to the front and found the Dragon Tail severed. A bald man held a sword with both hands, still in a downward thrusting pose, the blade deeply embedded in the bone and flesh of the severed end, with clear tearing marks on the edges of the Dragon Tail.
His armor was tattered, skin dull, face with bulging veins, eyes wide in anger, full of resentment and unwillingness.
‘He’s dead!’
Anse stood quietly in front of him for a long time, his emotions complex and inexplicable.
Death is the warrior’s homecoming, but failing to kill the enemy—how regrettable that must be.
However, his battle record was absolutely impressive: severing the tail of an Adult Green Dragon with one sword—a scene many warriors wouldn’t dare dream of.
‘I wonder if he’s savable.’
Anse no longer delayed and tried to drag the Dragon Tail, but it didn’t budge.
This section of tail was six or seven meters long and very thick; with his arm span, he couldn’t even wrap around it, and it was hard to exert force in the water.
He had to try pulling the bald man, but the man’s hands gripped the sword hilt tightly, impossible to separate.
‘Can’t damage the corpse.’
After thinking, he revealed his Dragon Claws and chopped downward along the blade direction, but the Dragon Bone was hard; after more than ten minutes of effort, he barely pulled out the greatsword.
Anse first placed the man aside, took out the Scepter of Sanctuary and applied several mana seals to the Dragon Tail, then activated the scepter, forcibly teleporting the Dragon Tail to Hollewen.
Seawater filled the void left by the vanished Dragon Tail, forming a small vortex behind him that made him sway unsteadily.
‘It’s not that I’m greedy; I really can’t drag it.’
He gave himself an excuse, circled around once more with no other findings, then grabbed the corpse with one hand and floated to the surface.
Illyas saw the commotion from afar and flew over on the carpet close to the sea surface, stirring up ripples.
Seeing the corpse, her expression froze, staring dazedly at the man’s face, a touch of indelible sorrow welling in her purple eyes.
After a long time, she pursed her lips, said nothing, and just pulled the corpse forcefully onto the carpet.
The man’s corpse was very stiff, perhaps in rigor mortis, or related to his class; anyway, after lying down, his body couldn’t relax, legs like in a horse stance, hands holding the sword across his chest.
Plus the carpet was small; after placing the corpse, Illyas and Anse could only sit sideways on the other side, legs dangling outside.
The carpet began to climb slowly, much slower than before.
A bit overloaded.
The blue-robed people at the Dock kept their distance from the carpet, behaving obediently without provocation or intent to intercept.
After they flew far away, the blue-robed people hurriedly rowed their boats to that sea area, jumping into the sea one by one, their purpose self-evident.
Anse felt something was off; could it be that the Blue Flame Cult discovered sorcerers’ blood was unstable and shifted their target to Dragonkin creatures?
Ever since hearing that the Blue Flame Cult was hunting sorcerers, he had regarded them as potential enemies, but so far, these people hadn’t bothered him, nor had he heard of any famous sorcerer dying at their hands.
Considering Illyas was a bit distracted now, he didn’t stir up trouble, and the two sides passed each other by.
Looking at the gradually receding Claw Bay, Anse felt the Emerald Kingdom would come back stronger; even if the Green Dragon Queen had no interest, that tailless Green Dragon couldn’t swallow this insult.
‘I wonder if a Dragon’s severed tail can regrow?’
He was quite curious what a tailless Green Dragon would look like; probably very ugly.
While he was on his way, the people in Hollewen were stunned by the Dragon Tail that suddenly appeared in the Plaza.
Especially the three hundred Kobolds repairing the Plaza stone slabs; upon seeing the Dragon Tail appear out of thin air beside them, they immediately collapsed in fright, shaking like chaff.
They were natives of the Emerald Plains and often saw Green Dragons, but precisely because they had seen them with their own eyes, they were even more terrified.
With their master beheaded, their “dog lives” were utterly hopeless, not daring to harbor even a shred of stray thoughts.
