Chapter 592
In all honesty, a battle between strength-reliant warriors was not as exciting as one would think.
The two Second Grade dragonborn were of fairly high grades and were having a genuinely bloody battle. Every punch and strike would draw blood. Anyone would feel their blood boil and their emotions soar at the scene alone. However, the variety and strangeness of their battle techniques were far inferior to the Second Grade body refining adepts of the World of Adepts.
Though the dragonborn were Second Grade as well, the body refining adepts of the World of Adepts were all ordinary humans who had slowly climbed up the from the very bottom as beginner apprentices. They had made their ways past intermediate apprentice, advanced apprentice, pseudo-adept, and First Grade with great difficulty to become the Second Grade adepts that they currently were. These various levels were all testament to the process of change and metamorphosis that these human adepts had undergone.
A human adept could not compare to a bloodline creature like a dragonborn in terms of Physique, Strength, or regeneration even after becoming Second Grade. However, if the two were to fight in a duel, then the one to die would most definitely be the dragonborn. The final survivor would undoubtedly be the human adept.
The main reason for this was that the dragonborn had far too powerful innate talents!
A dragonborn would possess powerful physical ability comparable to a First Grade body refining adept even if it did nothing and naturally grew up into adolescence. In fact, a First Grade body refining adept was very likely to lose to a First Grade dragonborn if they took off all magical equipment and compared physical strength alone.
Yet, it was this extremely high starting point and powerful bloodline talent that caused the dragonborn to lack the refined and concentrated power of the human adepts, that had only come about through training and countless trials. The human body-refining adepts knew they had poor bodily foundations, and thus, sought every way possible to increase their power. They relied on all sorts of strange techniques and evil abilities to enhance their capabilities.
That was why even a mere First Grade human adept like Deserra could easily defeat multiple First Grade dragonborn warriors. The profound logic within this phenomenon couldn’t be clearly expressed, but it could be demonstrated through practical action.
Will bowed and lifted the heavy metal axe above his head with much difficulty in accordance with the most ancient dueling rites, and offered it to Zacha.
Zacha stepped forward and took the axe with a difficult expression on his face. He loudly exclaimed, “You are a powerful individual worthy of my respect. I will not rob you of your honor as a warrior. I will cut off your head and lay it upon the highest peak of the Stonetalon Mountains, allowing your soul to return to Dragonheaven.”
A trace of gratitude appeared in Will’s eyes when he received Zacha’s acknowledgment and promise. Finally, the dragonborn that had been barely holding on closed his eyes limply.
No one knew when, but someone among the surrounding dragonborn warriors started humming and singing a strange song of the dragonborn. It was a tune that all dragonborn would hum when burying their dead. As the sorrowful and tragic melody echoed throughout the battlefield, an indescribable emotion grew in the hearts of the surviving dragonborn.
Their leader had already died in battle. An unmatched fear of Zacha had risen in the hearts of the dragonborn warrior. The crimson-armored adept that had temporarily vanished appeared above them once more. The magical machines had formed into a circle around them and were slowly pressing forward.
Even more powerful adepts had started showing up and were sealing off all paths of escape.
While the remaining sixty-seven red dragonborn were stuck in confusion, Zacha raised the battleaxe and severed Will’s head in one swift blow. He held the head up high in his hand.
“Submit or die!”
His voice was loud and clear, rumbling across the entire battlefield.
“We will not surrender. However, we are willing to listen to your orders until our master Lady Philippa comes to ransom us.” Deputy Commander Eden shouted in an equally loud but sorrowful voice as tears of blood streaked down his face.
Zacha raised his head and looked toward Mary.
This turn of events didn’t fit with her original plans, but she had no choice but to nod her head reluctantly!