Chapter 232: Summoning Magic vs. Summoning Magic
The green "smoke" released by the giant dragon contained old scales from the dragon's body, various fungi and bacteria growing on its skin, and numerous small parasites. Some of the larger ones were as big as cockroaches, but most resembled fleas or lice. These creatures formed a small ecosystem on the dragon's body.
Anyone caught in the drifting "smoke" felt intense pain, struggling and screaming. The army in the rear, unaware of the cause, continued to cheer for the dragon's arrival.
"Poison fog!" Finally, someone coined a practical name for these substances, and it quickly spread among the officers in various languages. Soldiers, now panicking, began to organize and retreat from the toxic area. No matter how brave a warrior was, facing such an invisible enemy left them helpless. They could only watch as their comrades struggled and screamed in agony.
Wright struggled to leap away from the magical attack, his right hand gripping the greatsword, which he planted into the ground to support his body. The layers of magical resistance greatly reduced the damage from the dragon's lightning and fire, but it still burned his skin, and he endured the intense pain as he raised his left hand to cast a healing spell.
Surrounded by the poisonous fog, Wright activated his Flame Cloak again. The flames continuously burning on his body killed any nearby organic creatures—this was the result of experiments conducted in the ruins of Valyria.
Looking at the massive, mutilated, and sickly green dragon in the sky, along with the purple soul fire dragonfire, Wright cursed loudly, "Damn Durnehviir!"
As he healed his wounds, Wright wondered why it was attacking him. This dragon had been summoned by the creepy man five thousand years ago. Hid old colleague had said that after his death, his descendants would be unable to control Durnehviir. According to later records, Durnehviir had flown east to a land of shadows, bringing a plague that devastated the entire peninsula.
The creepy man had summoned two dragons. His proud Wei Ying had naturally died of old age due to a lack of dragon god protection and the depletion of his magical power. Durnehviir itself was a necromancer, and after connecting with the Soul Cairn, it became a powerful lich-dragon with an independent soul—or a lich, as some magical factions called it. It had survived until now without issue.
There were rumors that Euron had gone to Asshai, but Euron was just a dog, not even qualified to speak to Durnehviir. The only one who could summon it was Euron's master, the Draedic Prince Hermaeus Mora. But Durnehviir was a servant of the Ideal Masters and in competition with the Draedic Prince for souls. What kind of deal could they have made to send Durnehviir across half the continent to trouble him?
As Wright pondered this, the giant dragon turned in the sky and charged toward him again.
Wright aimed carefully and launched an explosion fireball imbued with wind magic. The fireball, the size of a wash basin, spun and shot toward the dragon. Durnehviir, seeing the small fireball approaching, didn't even try to dodge, instead flapping its wings and charging toward Wright. However, the fireball cleverly passed through a large tear in its wing membrane and flew above the clouds.
"Damn it!" Wright cursed and immediately cast a Dragon Soul Tear. He then summoned a skeletal horse once more.
The giant dragon in the sky appeared to be on the verge of death, but its movements remained swift and fluid. After twisting its wings, it flapped them fiercely to avoid the pale blue magic orb.
Having avoided one Dragonrend, Wright no longer persisted with that attack. Facing such a massive beast, he wanted to see how other attacks would affect it. Additionally, Durnehviir's poison fog was too terrifying, and Wright planned to make use of it. Purple dragonfire once again rained down from the sky. Wright raised his left hand to form a magic shield and rode his horse toward the Dothraki cavalry to the north.
The dragonfire left a purple flame wall on the ground, extending as Wright ran and crossing into the Dothraki cavalry's formation. The dragon flew overhead, and the flames stopped as its head turned toward the front.
Seeing the exposed belly of Durnehviir, Wright gripped his sword with both hands and swung it continuously, delivering four blood-red sword auras that quickly flew upward, cutting four gashes across the dragon's belly.
No blood flowed from the wounds. Each cut was about a meter and a half long, but compared to the over-200-meter-long dragon's body, and its already ruined and skeletal form, the gashes seemed almost insignificant.
The dragon flew away, leaving behind a trail of green toxic fog. The flames on Wright's body crackled as they burned the parasites on him.
More Dothraki warriors were struck by the poison, losing their combat abilities. Their formation began to collapse as they scrambled to escape the undodgeable toxic fog. The small leaders could no longer command them, and they were helpless against the indiscriminate attacks from their own dragon.
The northern battlefield was now in complete chaos. Everyone tried to stay as far away from Wright as possible, but Arvak, with his immense stamina, charged wherever there were more people. Wright continued to use magic to protect him.
Durnehviir had already sprayed dragonfire at him three times. Wright sensed something was off—it seemed like the dragon was acting irrationally, relying solely on basic hunting instincts to launch attacks.
Seeing that the poison fog was nearly gone, Wright directed Arvak to turn toward the direction of the incoming dragon and charge at it.
The purple dragonfire struck again. Wright withstood the fire using his magic shield, then, before Arvak was burnt to death, he leapt onto its back and shouted a Dragonred toward the dragonfire.
The magic hit Durnehviir's head directly!
Wright landed with a roll and quickly got back up to heal himself. Durnehviir's massive form couldn't withstand the magic specifically designed to target dragon souls. It struggled to land, crushing a large number of slave soldiers underfoot. Its massive wings folded, and even a slight touch could leave someone dead or maimed.
"Dovahkiin!" The attack on its soul seemed to wake Durnehviir up. Its murky gray-white eyes locked onto Wright as the dragon's mouth released its first sound since it appeared.
"Durnehviir, why are you attacking me?" Wright asked, unsure of how to deal with the now-alert dragon. With the mindless, animal-like dragon, there was still a chance to fight, but with a fully awakened Durnehviir, Wright wasn't sure how to overcome it. If talking could end the battle, it would be the best outcome.
ANG~~~
Without answering Wright's question, Durnehviir lifted its head and let out a tremendous roar.
The slave soldiers who had already died beneath it began to reassemble. Their bones reformed, and with chunks of meat hanging from them, they slowly rose, weapons in hand. Their bones turned purple, and purple soul fire poured from their empty eye sockets. Soldiers who had been killed beneath the walls, as well as the war elephants Wright had slain, were all resurrected as purple skeletons.
The powerful necromantic magic of the giant dragon raised more than just the dead around it. Soldiers holding blades and spears screamed in agony, and within moments, blood seeped from their bodies. Their bones disobeyed their commands, tearing through their flesh to crawl out of their bodies, leaving a pile of bone-free rotten meat at their feet.
With a single spell, Durnehviir resurrected all the bodies surrounding Meereen and turned them into purple skeletons, including everyone within a few hundred meters of its position.
Wright raised his hand and summoned two Draemora Lords.
"Well, if it isn't the Dragonborn again."
"Here to make me taste blood again?" the two Draemora Lords hefted their greatswords, eager for battle.
"Cut it down!" Wright gestured toward the dragon.
The two Draemora Lords turned around and looked up at the castle-sized dragon, with thousands of purple-soul-fire-filled skeletons surrounding them, all staring at the three of them.