Who Designed This Underworld Dungeon?

"When dealing with dragons, of course, you have to use that."

Leon took out a Sun Holy Bell and held it in his hand. Instantly, lightning crackled in his palm, signaling the imminent appearance of a Thunder Spear.

However, he didn’t act rashly. Instead, he looked around and finally found the remnants of a wall that could serve both as cover and as an approach to the two giant dragons.

As he moved towards it, the corpses of Losric Knights littering the path would suddenly come to life, springing up and launching a series of attacks, some of which didn’t give up on attacking even if they were missing arms or legs.

This couldn’t harm his life but effectively slowed his pace.

As a result, the two gatekeeping giant dragons turned their heads towards him, their turbid, soulless eyes immediately filled with malice.

"Roar!!!"

They roared deafeningly, their ferocious giant mouths suddenly opening, and surging flames rushed toward him.

"Tsk."

Leon crouched down and shrank into the debris of the structure. Although his body, now known as Ash, couldn’t possibly ignite again, it wasn’t fireproof. Anticipating the fire attack, he crouched defensively like a vampire maiden.

The searing flames swept overhead, rapidly heating and even melting the debris behind him. He slammed the Bordeaux Hammer to the ground, and its chilly aura enveloped him, temporarily fending off the intense heat.

However, the flames spewed by the two giant dragons weren’t ordinary Dragon Flame. Something was clearly mixed within, causing it to break through the debris within seconds of contact.

In this life-or-death moment, Leon had no choice but to roll sideways to evade, and upon rising, swiftly transitioned into a slide step, barely escaping the flames’ reach.

This scene irresistibly brought to mind the Flying Dragon Bridge.

It was just this sense of déjà vu from the Flying Dragon Bridge that made him realize he couldn’t waste time here. After all, giant dragon monsters would keep repeating their attack if given the chance, and if he dawdled, he’d likely face a second, third, or more waves of Dragon Breath.

He had faced Gwyn in the Initial Firestove before. Dying to Dragon Breath now would be quite disgraceful.

Although he hadn’t noticed it himself, Leon inexplicably put on an air... a condition that might persist for months.

And then he heard the sound of the wind.

It was the airflow stirred by a massive entity in motion. Leon looked up to meet the gaze of a White Dragon clinging to the city wall. Malice almost seemed to ooze from the latter’s eyes.

The White Dragon had stretched its head down from the city gate arch. The crimson eyes looked even more terrifying against the backdrop of its ash-colored scales. Suddenly, it opened its mouth, a rapidly expanding orange glow lighting up deep in its throat, the surrounding air rapidly heated before it even had a chance to cool.

"The same trick won’t work on an adventurer twice."

Leon’s figure vanished from in front of the clearing, his form flickering briefly in place before appearing inside the pile of debris in front of the gate.

The White Dragon’s breath immediately smashed onto the battlefield, blowing the debris apart. Fiery stones rained down on the surrounding ground, burying several Knights who hadn’t had a chance to rise, robbing them of any opportunity to resurrect.

"Even Hound Step almost couldn’t dodge it."

Just as he regained his footing, a shadow rapidly expanded overhead as the White Dragon leaped from the city gate arch, its massive body crashing onto the ruin-filled square in front of the gate, shaking the ground upon landing.

This dragon is miserably thin.

Even compared to the Flying Dragon Ajikir, considered a disgrace among dragon kind by adventurers, this White Dragon was excessively frail, its body resembling a withered trunk. Even now, as it spread its wings and roared, it failed to exert any more pressure.

"Huh?"

Leon suddenly noticed something. Beneath its rugged scales, a black viscous substance seemed to wriggle.

Seeing black wriggling matter now instinctively brings to mind the Abyss, but Leon was certain those things weren’t from the Abyss. Instead, they were something he’d encountered earlier in his adventuring career.

"It looks a bit like Human’s Pus?"

Why would this thing be on a dragon?

The White Dragon didn’t give him any more time to observe. Its wings suddenly unfolded, sweeping through the ruin square and sending all the war chariot remains, debris, and even Knights’ corpses along its path flying. Various junk boxes rained down on him like a storm. The Yellow Dragon lying in front of the gate also raised its forehalf, swinging its claws down.

Leon lowered his stance, Hound Step activated again, and he slid through the gap between the wing tip and the ground. However, just as the tip of his toes touched down, the White Dragon’s tail swung from the other side, perfectly catching the gap in his combat skill timing. Without time to use Hound Step again, he was forced to brace the Bordeaux Hammer in front of him to take the hit. The moment the hammer head collided with the dragon’s tail, he slid backward, his feet skidding several meters across the ground, leaving white marks on the stone slabs.

Taking such a direct hit and still maintaining his stance, his current power was indeed formidable.

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