Now it's my turn, Robert thought, seeing everyone else safely hiding in the bushes. That's it.

Whether for good or evil, the story has come to an end.

Looking up, he saw Scarlet Moon and River Wind looking at them from the windows in the tower. It's the same for both good and evil.

What if the story ends in tragedy? Robert thought for the first time.

What will become of the world, what will become of the people who remain here? He looked slowly at the two friends on the tower who were as close as family.

As he watched intently, he saw Scarlet Moon light a candle.

For a brief moment, the candle lit up his face and that of River Breeze.

They raised their hands in farewell, and quickly extinguished the candle again so that unkind eyes would not see it.

Robert took a deep breath and turned around to sprint.

Darkness may conquer all, but it can never extinguish hope.

Even if one candle, or many candles, flicker or go out, a new candle will be lit again.

So hope will always live and shine on this darkness before dawn.

He was an old golden dragon, the oldest of his kind.

When he was young, he was a great fighter. The scars that marked Victory were still clearly visible on his shrunken skin.

His name had once been as glorious as his deeds, but he had forgotten it long ago.

Several young, ignorant golden dragons called him Pyright (Fool's Gold) mostly because he often forgot that he was living in the present, often in a trance, and returned to the old days.

Most of his teeth were gone, and it had been a long, long time since he had enjoyed munching a piece of venison or tearing a goblin in half.

Now he can still eat some rabbit meat some times, but most of the time he lives on oats.

When his mind is clear, he is a very intelligent, but somewhat forgetful companion.

Although he was reluctant to admit it, his eyesight was not very good, and his ears were so deaf that he could not hear anything.

His mind was still spinning fast, and his words were still as sharp as teeth: this was what dragons were used to. It's just that he usually can't discuss the same thing with the people around him.

But when he began to think about the past, the other golden dragons immediately hid back in the cave.

Because as long as he could remember those spells, he could still cast them accurately, and the power of the attacks that came out of his mouth was still not small.

But on this day, Pyright is neither in the present nor in the past. He was toning on the Great Plains of Eastved, enjoying the warm spring sun.

Next to him was another old man, with his head perched on his waist, doing the same thing.

A tattered pointed hat covered the old man's face and shielded him from the sun.

Beneath the hat is a long white beard. Boot-clad feet protrude from under the gray robe.

Both guys slept soundly. The golden dragon's waist continued to rise and fall as he hissed his breathing.

The old man's mouth was wide open, and his snoring sometimes woke him up.

When this happens, he will suddenly sit up straight, and his hat will fly out and roll on the ground (its shape is still twisted), while looking around alertly.

After finding nothing, he mutters in exasperation, puts his hat back (after finding it with great difficulty), pokes the dragon in the ribs in annoyance, and continues to snooze.

Although it was a warm, sunny day, if someone passed by, he would not understand why these two guys chose this time to sleep here.

Passers-by may guess who they are waiting for, as the old man occasionally wakes up, takes his hat off and looks intently at the empty sky.

Passers-by may be suspicious, but now it's clear that no one is passing by.

At least there were no friendly passers-by, and the Great Plains of Estved were full of dragons and goblin troops.

If these two guys knew they were sleeping in a dangerous place, they didn't seem to care.

The old man was awakened by his own particularly violent snoring, and was about to reprimand his companions for making such a terrible noise, when a shadow flew over them.

"Hah!" the old man stood up angrily and glared at the sky. "Dragon knights! a whole team of dragon knights! I don't think it's useful. The old man's eyebrows intertwined. "I've had enough.

Now they dare to block out my sun. Wake up!" he poked Pyright with a weather-beaten looking cane.

The golden dragon opened one eye with a mutter, looked at the old man (who could only see a gray whirring color), and continued to close his eyes.

Shadows continued to fly over their heads, and it was the four dragons and the knights on their backs.

"I say, wake up, you big lazy!!" shouted the old man.

The golden dragon snored happily and rolled over, its paws reaching out to the sky, its belly facing the warm sun.

The old man glared at the golden dragon for a moment, and then, suddenly, on an inspiration, he ran to the huge head.

"There's a war!" he shouted happily into one of the ears.

"We're under attack—"

The effect is amazing. Pyright's eyes immediately opened, and he rolled over quickly, his claws gripping the ground so tightly that he almost fell.

He raised his head angrily, stretched out his wings and began to flap vigorously, and the smoke and dust flew almost a mile high.

"Fight!" he shouted.

"Fight! We've been notified! Get your team in order!

Prepare to fight the enemy!"

The old man seemed to be startled by the sudden change, and at the same time was speechless because he had accidentally eaten a large mouthful of dust.

However, seeing that the golden dragon was about to take off, he still waved his hat and walked forward.

"Wait," he shouted, coughing incessantly. "Wait for me,"

"Why should I wait for you?" yelled Pyright. The golden dragon looked at the dust raised.

"Are you my wizard?"

"Yes, yes," said the old man hurriedly. "I—uh—are your mage. Lower your wings a little so I can climb up.

Thank you, you have such a good heart. Now I'm ...... Wow, I haven't sat down yet...... Watch out, my hat!

Damn, I haven't told you to take off yet!"

"We've got to catch up with that fight," Pyright yelled angrily. "Shuma is fighting alone!"

"Shuma!" said the old man disdainfully.

"Well, it looks unlikely you're going to be able to catch 'that' fight. At least a few hundred years later, but this is not the battle I just talked about.

I'm talking about the four dragons to the east. Evil monsters! We've got to stop them—"

"Dragons, ah, yes! I see them!" Pyright roared as he chased the two startled eagles, who also felt a little humiliated.

"No! no!" shouted the old man, kicking the dragon in the waist. "East, you idiot!

Fly east two more times!"

'Are you really my wizard?'" Pyright said in a low voice. "My wizard would never speak to me like that. “

"I—uh—sorry, old friend," said the old man quickly.

"It's just a little nervous because of the upcoming conflict and so on. ”

"Oh my God, there are four dragons!" said Pyright, surprised, only then did he faintly see their shadows.

"Let me come closer, so I can give them a little color," cried the old man.

"I've got an awesome spell, Fireball. Now," he muttered to himself, "if only I could remember how it worked." ”

Two dragon man officers and four brass dragons.

One of the bearded riders rode at the front, and the helmet seemed to be a little larger to him, just enough to cover his eyes. Another officer rode at the rear. He's a very strong guy, and he's almost breaking his armor.

He didn't have a helmet, so he didn't have that big size, but his eyes were very focused, especially when he looked at the prisoners who were riding on the back of the dragon in the center.

It was a strange combination: a woman in ill-fitting armor, a dwarf, a Kande, and a middle-aged man with long gray hair.

Passers-by who would notice the old man and the golden dragon would also notice that the group had deliberately avoided routes that would have been detected by the Dragoon's ground troops.

True, when a group of dragonmen spotted them and yelled in the hope of attracting their attention, the two officers pretended not to hear.

A passerby with really sharp eyes will even find out, how could a brass dragon appear in the army of dragoons?!

Unfortunately, neither the old man nor his aged golden dragon were such sharp-eyed bystanders.

They remained in the clouds, quietly approaching the unsuspecting group of knights.

"Rush out as soon as you hear my order," the old man commanded with a shriek, excited by the impending battle. "We're going to attack them from behind. ”

"Where's Shuma-sama?" the golden dragon looked around in the mist.

"Dead," the old man muttered, concentrating on his spell.

"Dead!" the golden dragon roared regretfully. "Are we too late?"

"Oh, don't worry about that!" said the old man suddenly. "Are you ready?"

"Dead," the golden dragon said sadly.

Then his eyes lit up. "But we're going to avenge him!"

"Yes, that's right," said the old man. "Now...... Look at my signals—no! It's not time! You're this—"

The golden dragon swooped down, and the old man's voice was drowned out by the violent wind painting. The golden dragon was like a spear shot by a god, aimed at the four smaller wyverns.

The tall officer at the back of the hall saw some movement, looked back, and was taken aback. I couldn't help but keep my eyes open.

"Robert!" he shouted alertly to the officer in front of him.

The half-elf turned his head and heard Calamon's nervous voice, he was ready for any trouble, but at first he didn't see anything.

Then Calamon pointed ahead.