As the two of them spoke, the squad of over a thousand foreign players, which had taken a long time to assemble, had completely collapsed amidst the unceasing flames of the Ancient Fire Dragon, Wales.
The crimson-gold, fiery Dragon Breath swept across the battlefield again and again like molten lava. The foreign players' armor melted into twisted slag under the intense heat, and their skill-based shields were torn apart as easily as thin paper. Screams mingled with the scorched smell of roasting flesh, filling the air. Every beat of its Dragon Wings kicked up a searing wave of heat that sent the dying foreign players flying. The entire squad of foreign players was tormented until only scattered pockets of resistance remained.
Meanwhile, the invaders' entry points in other regions of the Lord World had also descended into Chaos. The Holy Empire's "Bloodthirsty Mount Team" weaved through the edges of the battlefields like phantoms.
