Xia'er's wings beat violently, her emerald dragon body tearing through the clouds like an arrow released from its bow, soaring straight into the sky.
The howling, frigid air currents meant nothing to her. Climbing above the sea of clouds, her massive form flickered in and out of view amidst the churning gray-white cloud banks, perfectly blending into this natural curtain.
Peering through gaps in the clouds, the Dwarven stone fortresses came into Xia'er's view.
A dragon's vision was exceptional. Even hidden within the clouds, Xia'er could clearly see the state of these fortresses.
These stone fortresses were not haphazardly piled together. They were precisely distributed along the mountain ridges and passes, forming a deadly, mutually-supporting net. Each fortress top had dark, gaping firing ports, within which the faint glint of thick, cold crossbow arms could be seen.
Xia'er could even catch sight of short, swift figures darting through the passageways between the forts. There were Dwarves defending these fortresses.
"Truly elite."
Xia'er thought to herself. Such stone fortresses would indeed be somewhat difficult for Valentina, a Blue Dragon who primarily wielded lightning breath, to destroy.
Destroy one stone fortress, and the Dwarves could swiftly transfer to another via the visible surface channels or the underground tunnels. And within those fortresses, numerous ballistae were deployed, posing a significant threat to a dragon.
However...
While these stone fortresses might be hard for Red Dragons, Blue Dragons, Black Dragons, and White Dragons to overcome, requiring the destruction of each one...
For Xia'er, a Green Dragon, it was as easy as turning her hand!
The reason was simple.
Xia'er's breath was poison mist!
Poison mist didn't need to destroy stone. As long as there was a single vent, the Dwarves would suffer a devastating blow.
"Stupid Dwarves, it's time you experienced the wisdom of a Green Dragon!"
With that thought, an excitement tinged with the burning sensation of Black Oil surged through her veins. Seizing the cover of the clouds, she dove towards the Dwarf stone fortress!
Her deep emerald, massive dragon form tore through the cloud layer, plummeting downwards with a piercing shriek!
...
Inside the stone fortress, the air was thick with the distinctive Dwarf smells of sweat, leather, and faint ore dust.
Several Dwarf scouts were resting by the stone benches inside the firing ports, temporarily sheltered from the biting wind of their lookout posts.
The cold of the Karugu Highlands was extremely uncomfortable for Dwarves too.
"Ha! This damned weather! The wind's tangling my beard!"
A veteran Dwarf with a thickly braided beard and several old scars on his face grumbled, vigorously rubbing his wind-reddened nose before patting the bulging leather flask at his waist. "Once this battle's over and we're back in Anvil City, I'm gonna drink the 'Heart of the Forge' tavern's ale barrel dry!"
"Count me in, Glenn!"
Another, slightly younger but equally weathered Dwarf chimed in. "And a huge plate of smoked mountain goat ribs, the kind that sizzles with fat! After chewing on bread hard enough to crack a giant's skull for half a month, my teeth are aching for meat."
In a shadowy corner, a clearly much younger Dwarf recruit was nervously polishing his hand crossbow.
He couldn't help but peer out the narrow firing port again, scanning the gloomy sky and undulating mountain ridges.
"Relax, lad."
The veteran Glenn took a swig from his flask and spoke to the recruit in a seasoned tone. "Those dragonkin are scared witless by our stone lumps and ballistae! See? How many days has it been? Aside from sending some brainless rock crabs and Cave-Dwelling Beasts to scratch our walls, they haven't even shown a shadow of themselves! What's to fear? At this rate, we'll bag a few dragons sooner or later."
"But..."
The recruit's voice carried a barely perceptible tremor. "The books say dragons are cunning..."
"Books! Those moldy old books again! What good is reading them all day? Get a proper job!"
Glenn interrupted him impatiently, tapping the recruit's helmet with his axe handle. "Real combat is the best teacher! Lad, those colorful dragons have to grovel before the walls we Dwarves forge by digging mountains, carving stone, and tempering with Refined Steel and will! They fear our ballistae, and they fear our fortresses even more!"
To old-timers from Iron Anvil City like them, book-reading was a waste. A true Dwarf should be a warrior or a craftsman!
Another Dwarf soldier laughed. "By King Jandres, just tuck your heart back into that hairless chest of yours. When our shift's over, I'll teach you to drink real Dwarf ale. Guaranteed to make you forget those dragon tales meant to scare children!"
The recruit flinched from the tap, forcing a weak smile, trying to blend into the veterans' relaxed atmosphere. But his eyes kept drifting uncontrollably towards the churning gray clouds outside the firing port.
He felt those clouds seemed... thicker, more oppressive than before?
And the pale, occasional light filtering through the cloud gaps seemed to carry a faint, ominous hint of green?
Just as the veteran was about to continue his 'battlefield ale lecture', the recruit's pupils contracted sharply!
Amidst the churning cloud wisps, a flash of emerald green, icy cold and utterly unnatural, streaked past!
That flash of green carried a heart-stopping speed and oppressive force, tearing through the clouds in a dive!
That wasn't a cloud!
It was a terrifying silhouette, clad in emerald scales, massive beyond imagination!
It emerged from the sea of clouds, wings spread, casting a vast shadow over the ridge below!
"Dragon—!!!"
The recruit mustered all his strength, letting out a near-shattering screech. "In the sky! Green Dragon!!! It's diving!!!"
"What?! Green Dragon?"
The veteran Glenn's tipsiness vanished in an instant, replaced by shock. He lunged towards another firing port.
The other Dwarves jumped up like rock rats with their tails stepped on, scrambling frantically towards their combat stations.
Veteran Glenn directly took control of the massive Sky-Hunter heavy ballista facing their arrow tower, adjusting its aim while shouting, "Lad! Toss that puny hand crossbow aside! Prepare to load the heavy bolts!"
Glenn's calloused finger slammed down on the trigger. The Sky-Hunter heavy ballista, which normally required two people to operate, roared with a deep, resonant sound.
A nearly two-meter-long heavy bolt, its entire Refined Steel shaft densely inscribed with intricate runes, tore through the air with a piercing shriek, shooting straight towards the diving emerald giant!
As if it were a signal, the Dwarf ballistae on the surrounding ridges and fortresses unleashed their fury simultaneously!
Dozens of equally terrifying shrieks filled the air. A deadly net of steel, woven from lethal heavy bolts, instantly spread open, aiming to ensnare the massive green figure.
The Green Dragon in the sky displayed astonishing agility. Its huge body performed nearly impossible rolls and sudden stops mid-air, its deep emerald scales dazzlingly bright in the high-speed maneuvers.
However, the bolts were too dense, the coverage too vast.
The heavy bolt Glenn fired, imbued with Dwarven runecraft and aimed with calculated lead, precisely seized an opening!
"Thud!"
A heart-stopping, muffled impact!
That rune-inscribed heavy bolt struck the Green Dragon's right wing membrane, near the wing bone!
"Hit! Hahaha! We hit it!"
Glenn's triumphant roar exploded within the tower. He slapped the cold ballista base gleefully, laughing uproariously. "See that, lad! Any dragon has to grovel before our Dwarven iron and fire!"
Then, he saw with his own eyes the massive dragon body lurch violently in the air, letting out a roar of fury.
Based on past experience, this dragon would either immediately gain altitude and flee, or, like the Blue Dragon that attacked them before, try to vent its anger by using its breath to destroy the fortress.
But the fortress main structure was sturdy, and there were tunnels. At worst, they'd lose some outer walls and a few ballistae.
Just as Glenn expected, the next moment, the Green Dragon had closed in to a position very near the stone fortress, opening its bloody maw!
"Prepare to retreat! It's going to brea..."
Glenn roared the order while habitually turning, ready to lift the heavy stone slab disguised as the floor behind him, leading to the safe tunnel into the mountain's interior.
Yet, the moment he bent down, grabbed the iron ring on the slab, and prepared to heave it open, an intensely ominous aura enveloped him.
It wasn't the Blue Dragon's lightning, nor the Red Dragon's fire.
It was a green, carrying a strong, sickly-sweet, bloody scent!
The whole world seemed splashed with a layer of churning, emerald-colored ink!
"Ugh!"
Glenn's movements froze instantly. An indescribable sense of suffocation seized him.
He looked up in shock. His vision was no longer filled with the gray sky and hills, but an endless, turbulent sea of green poison mist!
The mist waves, like living things, were surging madly into the fortress interior through every firing port, every crack, even the tiniest pores in the stone!
"Poison! It's poison mist!!"
The perpetually nervous recruit now let out a scream filled with despair. "The books say a Green Dragon's breath is deadly poison! Not an explosion! We're done for! We're finished!"
Glenn's murky eyes widened in shock. He instinctively wanted to retort, "Bullshit! Dragon breath is all..."
But when he opened his mouth, not a single word came out.
An indescribable, searing, agonizing pain erupted instantly from his throat, nasal passages, eyes... even every pore of his skin.
This poison mist was madly stabbing into his lungs through his respiratory tract!
His trachea felt like it was rapidly corroding by strong acid.
His vision was also dominated by a thick green. Knife-like pain shot through his eyeballs.
He wanted to cough, to gasp for air.
But his lungs felt as if they were being clenched tightly by a fist, every spasm bringing heart-rending agony.
"Hck... hck..."
Glenn's throat made choking, gasping sounds. His hands clawed at his own neck, veins bulging.
Soon, this veteran Dwarf warrior felt his vision blurring. The last thing he could see was the other Dwarf soldiers in his group within the arrow tower falling like harvested wheat, twitching soundlessly as they collapsed in the thick mist.
"Finished."
That thought surfaced in his mind. The next moment, the veteran Dwarf Glenn's robust body lost all support. It toppled over like a collapsing mountain, crashing heavily onto the cold, hard stone floor, swallowed by the churning, surging tide of virulent green mist.
Outside the tower, the poison mist continued to gush from Xia'er's maw, cascading down like a waterfall, spreading towards the Dwarves' meticulously constructed defense system and deep into the mountain itself.
Five years of accumulated poison mist, augmented by an entire barrel of Black Oil.
It was enough to envelop the entire stone fortress!