The air sizzled as Salron's breath, a scorching beam of white energy, scalded the advancing pikemen who had rushed headlong into the fight. Not even the shieldsmen and crossbowmen who followed could escape the dragon's wrath.

"Aaargh!" Their screams filled the air as their bodies were seared and melted on the spot, the scent of charred flesh filling Salron's nostrils. The armor might have been their defense against physical attacks, but it stood no chance against such a pure form of heat and destruction.

Tarom's face, which had been an emblem of composure, lost its calm. Who could have informed him of the dragon's capability to unleash such a bizarre and powerful thermal breath, which seemed akin to a vaporizing steam?

...

"It truly is Lord Salron, his power is unrivaled and unmatched!" Shadar struggled to his feet, knowing the instant he heard the dragon's roar that it was Lord Salron who had come.

"Follow me and fight alongside Lord Salron!" Shadar exclaimed, picking up a longsword and rallying the trolls.

"Shadar, Lord Salron orders you to lead the retreat!" The air twisted, and Winnie's form, along with her words, materialized before Shadar and his comrades.

"What?" Shadar exclaimed in confusion.

"Those are the master's orders. Would you defy them?" Winnie's gaze bore into Shadar.

The trolls would only be marching to their deaths; as a consort of Lord Salron, they couldn't die so meaninglessly. Shadar clenched his fist, looking back at the thirty-some remaining forest trolls.

"We leave!" he said through gritted teeth.

...

As Tarom watched his soldiers fall by the scores and the Savage Shields struggle to hold their ground, his eyes flashed red. Crushing a crimson gem in his hand, he whispered, "Unleash!"

At the same time, the five remaining Savage Shields began to transform. Their heavy armor shed by itself, revealing their true forms—dark blue skin, red eyes, and bodies marked with pitch-black patterns. Tiny red scales sprouted on their backs, and they were no longer recognizably human.

Their bodies swelled and grew; two massive, horn-like protrusions emerged from their heads, and their fingernails elongated into beastly claws. Tarom knew this was the Savage Shields' true form—their strength was incomparable to their normal state. The armor had contained magical formations not only for protection but also to seal their power because in this form, the Savage Shields could only sustain combat for about fifteen minutes before their energy was utterly depleted, leading to their death.

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Salron noticed the change in these warriors. Oh, so they transform as well!

The wound on his wing, inflicted by the humans' bolt, had already healed after he'd devoured forty or fifty soldiers—the Carnivore talent was indeed powerful.

The transformed Savage Shields charged at Salron with renewed fury. One of them coiled its muscular legs and leapt up, aiming for Salron's back, ready to strike with ferocious might.

With a flash of lightning speed, Salron's bite clamped down on his opponent. Not to be underestimated, Salron's teeth were the sharpest part of him, reinforced with armor-piercing capabilities. The sound of breaking bones echoed as the Savage Shield's black-striped skin rippled, unable to withstand the ferocity of Salron's lethal jaws. Unsurprisingly, the Savage Shield was cleaved in two.

"The bite force of a black dragon is this strong?" Tarom was taken aback. The dragon before him was challenging his previous assumptions. The enhanced Savage Shields were supposed to be as hard as steel, tested by Tarom himself, but Salron's bite proved mightier than any metal.

Salron took in the scene, noting the remaining few adversaries and the advancing soldiers nearby, and then set his sights on Tarom who was watching with a predatory gaze. Deciding it was time to take flight, he soared into the air. The Savage Shields attempted to intercept, but were met with an enraged roar; Salron unleashed his Feral Scream. Everyone on the battlefield felt a tremor in their blood, the sensation particularly sharp for casters and warriors sensitive to their own magic and vitality, which now felt uncontrollable.

Seizing the opportunity, Salron took to the skies. Shadar and his troops had already evacuated the area, and the unstable state of the transformed warriors indicated their time was limited. To ensure his own safety, Salron decided it was best to wait until their transformation ended before returning to finish them off.

"Stop him!" Tarom was desperate. They had finally grounded the dragon for close combat, and with the Savage Shields unleashed, letting him fly away would mean no peace for them, knowing the vengeful nature of dragons.

The Savage Shields threw their spears with incredible force, but Salron was prepared, dodging the projectiles effortlessly and even snatching one from the air to crush and swallow it as a show of defiance. His flight reached three hundred meters up, yet the spears still flew true and deadly.

"Damn it!" Tarom could only watch as the monstrous black dragon retreated with ease. If not for its dragon form, Tarom would have sworn he was dealing with an unknown beast. How could a black dragon breathe such scorching heat, and how did it heal so quickly from a wound inflicted by the Scorpion God Crossbow, which had bleeding and armor-breaking properties?

"Have they tallied our losses?" Tarom asked his second-in-command, frustration seething in his voice.

"Lord Tarom, we have lost ninety-eight warriors, with thirty-seven seriously wounded, and seventy-two lightly injured..." The cost of this conflict was immense, each soldier a costly investment, loyal and strong. Yet, the loss of six Savage Shields was the most critical blow.

Tarom noticed the life force ebbing from the five remaining Savage Shields. As their energy dissipated, their bodies reverted to their original form. Suddenly, Tarom had a thought, "Quickly, send someone to check on Agus's situation!"

...

Perched on a cliff, Salron came to a stop, accompanied by Winnie, who reported the intelligence she had gathered.

"Master, the enemy at the mine has not stirred. They've taken over and are forcing the kobolds and goblins to mine the ore!"

How audaciously they act, mining his ore, as if they had claimed his domain. Blatant dragon provocation—trespassing onto his territory, slaying his kin, stealing his treasures. They would pay.

"Winnie, I'll head over to the mine and take care of the hundred-man army there. Keep watch over this army. If they dare send a messenger for reinforcements, kill the messenger or any flying beast they send," Salron commanded.

"At your command," Winnie said obediently, then vanished into the air, perfectly suited for the task. Salron's Wild Scream had effortlessly countered her abilities before, but not everyone had such capabilities.

Salron planned to obliterate the elite army. His treasures were not to be trifled with, and it was too soon to reveal himself fully, especially as his form would attract dragon hunters seeking glory. Killing any messengers would isolate t,he army, preventing any leaks.

His previous retreat was strategic; he now held an unbeatable position. The transformed warriors gave him an uneasy feeling. In modern terms, Salron was a 'tanky' fighter, an all-rounder, even somewhat more cunning—ambushing the army periodically with breath attacks or snatching soldiers to kill in the sky. His Carnivore talent would heal any injuries, ensuring their eventual demise. None would be spared.

Now, it was time to deal with the miners. With a powerful flap of his wings, Salron departed, his silhouette casting a shadow like a dark cloud over the sun.