Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks

Chapter 861 - 85: Demon Dragon Returns (Happy New Year)

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When Losa awoke from his slumber, the first thing he felt was thirst. Immediately, without waiting for him to speak, a cold glass of sugar cane juice was offered to his lips. He sipped it slowly, feeling warmth in his heart.

Prajna was like that ever-burning lamp at home during the deep night; whenever you needed her, she silently waited in the shadows.

"How did the battle go last night?"

His voice was a bit hoarse, and instinctively, he reached toward Prajna’s cheek.

Compared to his state just after being reborn yesterday, his mind was much clearer now. At least it was no longer a muddled chaos, though his eyelids felt heavy, as if he hadn’t slept for half a month, making it impossible to lift them.

Prajna didn’t reply, which surprised Losa. He then realized the touch felt wrong; though smooth and delicate, the facial features were different.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of the mountain peaks. What he saw instead was a lady judge wearing gold-rimmed glasses. She seemed a bit embarrassed but forced a nonchalant appearance. "Miss Prajna has gone to attempt spirit summoning, and I’m here to care for you for a while."

"Thank you for your efforts."

"No problem."

The lady judge modestly acknowledged and then asked, "How is your physical condition now?"

"Much better. The injury wasn’t physical in nature. How did the battle end yesterday?"

Yesterday, Losa took a brief rest, intending to ascend to fight when the enemy’s floating airship fleet approached. But as soon as he prepared for "True Dragon Transformation," intense pain threatened to overpower his will.

Thinking back, it must have been a side effect of the Dragon Slayer Crossbow. While in human form, he could manage the pain, but as a true dragon, it was perfectly countered by it.

"Don’t worry, Furin is still here. With my decree’s blessing and support from the city’s entire Magic Array, her current strength rivals that of the Great Monarch of the Blood Royal Court."

"She shot down two airships, causing the enemy to retreat. Unfortunately, we lost all our outer artillery towers; the Magic Arrays there were rudimentary and mostly defensive, so Furin’s projected power was limited..."

Losa sighed lightly at the loss. The guards defending the outer artillery towers numbered over two thousand, yet they were wiped out so effortlessly.

"Help me up; I must try again."

Without the True Dragon Body, although Losa’s current fighting power wasn’t weak, the impact he could achieve on such a battlefield was limited. His "Spear of Destiny" had depleted the accumulated Power of Faith.

He speculated that his only remaining effective capability was the use of the Dragon Slayer Crossbow in his normal state.

The lady judge furrowed her brows slightly, "Do you want to try now? You’ve already done a lot; this isn’t just your battle."

The state Losa was in when True Dragon Transformation failed the previous day was terrifying enough; even onlookers felt a palpable fear.

Losa shook his head, "According to our plan, although this battle has a fair chance of success, if I can achieve True Dragon Transformation, then our losses can be minimized to the greatest extent. Now, every bit of power saved in Texas can contribute to future development."

He revealed a somewhat pale smile, "This place is Nina’s home, after all. It’s also the Ideal State in your heart. Jeanne burned her life twice for this place, so there’s no reason I can’t do the same."

Actually, Losa felt that the resilience of his soul even surpassed Jeanne’s. It was only in terms of willpower that he lacked somewhat.

...

By morning, the sky was already getting light.

Colonel Brown, with the help of an orderly, dressed in his military uniform, glanced at his copper-cased pocket watch: "All combat personnel should be having breakfast now, right? Relay my order: At seven o’clock, prepare to ascend and engage."

The orderly withdrew to transmit the order.

A moment later, a major stepped in, furrowing his brow, "Colonel, sir, has the council determined a method to counter the Texans’ Mage Tower last night?"

Colonel Brown nodded, "We’ll equip sufficient Antimagic Bombs and more accompanying mages, and each ship will have clergy using holy light to dispel the enemy’s evil magic."

"Is that all?"

The major realized his tone was off and hurriedly added, "What I mean is, in just one night, has everything been prepared? We’ve already lost the Iron Duke; if the London is damaged as the flagship of the air force..."

Colonel Brown silenced the major with a stern look, "Henry, never doubt the Empire’s strength. The Mughals once had countless ancient Demon Towers, but they all fell under our great battleships."

"This time will be the same."

"Return to your post!"

Watching the major leave, Colonel Brown couldn’t help but sigh deeply, placing a letter of last words he’d written ahead of time into his pocket.

To this day, no one would think this gilded campaign, akin to quelling African natives, was a casual outing aiding one’s career.

These high-ranking, mostly noble-born mid-level officers truly faced the possibility of dying alongside their beloved ships.

Personally, Colonel Brown held little hope for today’s battle; the enemy’s magic displayed yesterday was evidently not traditional Elemental Magic. Marshal Julian, driven by his career ambitions, was leading them toward the devil’s abyss.

Before the floating fleet could ascend, the British Army commenced its first offensive.

Initially, it was the artillery that roared, unleashing shells without reservation from forward artillery positions, advancing significantly. Only a few of yesterday’s artillery towers, already flattened by the airships, managed to retaliate.

Yet, the remaining forces within the artillery towers, along with usable cannons, were few, quickly being overtaken by the King’s Blade led armored infantry.

The British Expedition Army went all out with frightening strength.

Admiral George, on the artillery front, gazed through binoculars at the slow-moving airship fleet heading toward the Wolf Race fortress, silently praying for continued divine favor on the Empire.

During last night’s military council, he learned that the enemy’s magic originated from the Blood Royal Court on the Balkan Peninsula. Although Vampire legends spread across Europe, most were unremarkable, lacking orthodox heritage among wild vampires.

Few knew how to wield the advanced skill of Blood Magic, so the British Army’s Royal Mages had limited countermeasures, primarily relying on Holy Light, which was starkly opposite to Dark Attribute magic.

But time was pressing, and clearly, Marshal Julian lacked the patience to wait for more Holy Knights and clergy to be dispatched from the homeland.

This time, the floating airships carried more casters and specially produced Antimagic Bombs, which were filled with huge amounts of special dust inside, capable of limiting the area within...