Ashen Dragon

Unlike the aimless and tactless players chasing the Allied Forces soldiers on the outskirts,

the Tiefling army had already formed a tight offensive formation. Seizing the gap created by the players, they charged like a razor-sharp blade into the three thousand strong Allied Forces.

Mezulash led the vanguard, his armor mottled with bloodstains. Few dared to approach him.

He raised his blood-stained great sword high.

[Guiding Divine Power: Terror Manifestation]

A dark night glow immediately enveloped the surroundings.

Mezulash invoked the darkest emotions, concentrating them into an explosion of magical coercion, a unique ability of the Oathbreaker.

The Allied soldiers, shrouded in darkness, discarded their helmets and armor, succumbing to instinctual panic.

"No, stay away!"

"Ah——"

"Run for your lives!" Read exclusive content at My Virtual Library Empire

"Devil, he's the embodiment of a devil!"

Blood splashed onto his face, and Mezulash's lips curled slightly: "The embodiment of a devil, huh...

This seemed to trigger some memories.

He remained silent for a while, then calmly said: "Since you all want me to be, I'll be it."

Mezulash strode forward, swinging his blood-stained great sword and casting down scarlet red light—the Bloody Sacred Slash unique to the Oathbreaker.

Amidst the chilling screams, the lives of the Allied soldiers were ruthlessly reaped.

The soldiers scattered and fled as if escaping a devil. Even his own Tiefling subordinates felt a strange unfamiliarity toward their terrifying leader, only managing to shoot a few arrows behind him.

Damascus hurried forward, worried: "Captain, are you... alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I couldn't be better."

While speaking, Mezulash raised his great sword once again.

[Guiding Divine Power: Control Undead]

Bodies slowly crawled up, picking up their severed limbs and attaching them to their torsos, hollow eyes flickering with a wavering glow, growling lowly as they pounced on their former comrades.

"No——"

"Gods..."

"He's truly a devil!"

"This devil resurrected them! He can control the undead!"

Seeing their former comrades turned into undead, with familiar faces full of a craving for flesh, shattered the Allied soldiers' psychological defenses. They fled desperately, for no one wanted to end up in such a state.

Mezulash slowly lowered his blood-stained great sword.

"The effect isn't bad."

His pure black eyes, devoid of irises, flickered with a ghostly light. Blood stains covered his ram-like curved horns, making him look like a true Hell Demon.

Control Undead was an ability he had never used before. But now, Mezulash was free from any psychological burden.

Being an Evil Dragon's retainer, even this...

didn't matter.

Mezulash glanced around, only to find even his own companions having a trace of fear deep in their eyes.

But he pretended not to see it, calmly ordering: "Continue advancing."

Under the onslaught led by the undead, the Tieflings soon chased the crying and fleeing Allied soldiers to the Boske Family's command post.

Compared to a commander, Andrei Boske seemed more like a front-line vanguard. After the battle started, he charged alone to the front lines, leaving all the heavy command duties to his subordinate nobles.

These pampered nobles were utterly terrified as they watched the undead gradually approach, one even fainting with fear on the spot.

To them, war was often a refined art, not a brutal slaughter.

The nobles were instructed by the Boske Family to not engage in a deadly fight, but rather preserve their strength.

However, now the enemy had slaughtered their way to their doorstep, far beyond their expectations.

Baron Matthew's voice trembled: "What... what should we do?"

Viscount Luton whispered from the side: "Why not... surrender?"

"But I fear they won't honor the sacred nobility accord..."

"These are the Evil Dragon Kin."

The undead growled and advanced, while the Tieflings stood in formation holding their weapons.

Mezulash leisurely stepped forward a few paces, pointing his sword at the tent from afar:

"Everyone, surrender and I won't kill."

Though not loud, his voice was unmistakably clear.

A silence fell within the tent, followed by the rustling sounds.

Finally, Baron Matthew couldn't withstand the immense pressure anymore. He stumbled out from the back door, leaping onto his warhorse.

"Damn you devils!

"Go to Hell!"

He cursed as he galloped away.

Mezulash remained silent, coldly observing the noble on horseback, raising his sword that flickered with spell radiance.

[Crown of Madness]

A twisted jagged crown appeared on Baron Matthew's head, his eyes instantly flashing with madness.

He uncontrollably fell from his horse, thrashing around on the ground.

Mezulash walked forward unhurriedly, looking down at him.

"You do have courage."

Baron Matthew rolled on the ground, madly howling: "One day, I'll kill you all!"

"Shush——"

Neatly, a strike fell, pinning the insane baron to the ground.

The remaining nobles in the tent watched this bloody scene, exclaiming in horror.

But it wasn't over yet.

Mezulash pulled out the blood-stained sword.

The dismembered body on the ground started to wriggle, staggering to stand, hollow eyes flickering ghostly—Baron Matthew was transformed into an undead.

The nobles fell silent at once.

Mezulash guided the undead to the tent front, calmly repeating: "Everyone, surrender and I won't kill."

He paused.

"At least—I won't turn you into something like this."

Sweat dripped from Viscount Luton's forehead. Unable to withstand the pressure any longer, he knelt down with a thud, tears and snot streaming: "I surrender! I surrender! Please don't turn me into an undead!"

"I surrender too, just spare my life!"

"The Teman Family is willing to pay a ransom!"

"The Fatte Family seeks cooperation."

"I represent the Chris Family in saluting the Lord of Ashen."

With Viscount Luton taking the lead, the nobles in the tent all fell to their knees, begging for mercy and weeping bitterly.

Mezulash slightly nodded.

"Then I apologize."

The Tieflings tied up the kneeling nobles.

Damascus stepped forward, cautiously reporting: "Captain... no, sir, the right flank of the Allied Forces has completely collapsed. The players are chasing the remnants. Should we cooperate with Lord Ramp and launch an attack on the enemies' central army from the flank?"

Mezulash shook his head: "No, we retreat straight away."

Damascus was stunned: "But sir, we..."

Mezulash's pure black eyes held a teasing glint: "Retreat directly, we need to let these nobles witness a grand ceremony."

"Yes, sir."

Though puzzled, Damascus followed orders, leading the panic-stricken nobles back to the north of the pass.