"Humans, elves, dwarves—you're all powerless weaklings! I'm the true lord of the skies, the invincible dragon!"
On the vast plains outside White City, not far from the Mountain Giant's corpse, a massive dragon landed. Though its body was much smaller than the Mountain Giant's, it was still a colossal beast. The natural aura of dragon might radiated in all directions every moment, making anyone who got even a little closer tremble with fear and lose control.
"I've got a loogie in my throat hotter than molten lava! Spit—hah, ptooey!—I could burn you all to ashes with one little gob! Just a gentle exhale—whoosh~~~—and the smoke would choke a hundred chain-smokers to death! And if I flap my wings, even if you add up all the veteran drivers from A-site and B-site and square the total, I'd still leave them in the dust!"
The dragon's head swayed left and right, its terrifying amber eyes sweeping the crowd and sending shivers down the spines of everyone it looked at. Though the army had it surrounded on all sides, honestly, few dared approach within a kilometer. Even shutting your eyes wouldn't help—the pressure it exuded went beyond the five senses, draining your fighting spirit and turning your limbs to jelly. Even if you had strength to spare, you'd be lucky to muster a fraction of it.
The dragon raised its head high, its jaws snapping and claws flailing: "Bow down, tremble, and then die, you pathetic specks of dust! Mwahahaha, I am the oldest, most evil dragon—uh," The dragon's head paused mid-motion, then drooped: "What was my name again?"
The White-Robed Wizard stood before all the soldiers, his face a mix of sighs and complicated emotions. He replied, "Ankara. Ankara, the Blackgold Dreadwing—one of the strongest evil dragons beneath the Dragon Progenitor."
"Oh, right!" The dragon's head perked up again, jaws wide, each tooth gleaming like a legendary weapon, its sharpness enough to make anyone's skin crawl. "I am Ankara, the Blackgold Dreadwing! Scared yet? Mwahahahaha~~~~!"
A legendary dragon—a true myth, and possessed by a Ringwraith, no less. So why was it talking like such a goofball? The sense of discord was off the charts! Let's shift our gaze down from the dragon's head for a moment. Under its chin, a pair of jade-like hands was propping it up, bouncing it up and down just like someone puppeteering a lion head in a festival. As the hands moved, the dragon's head looked around, swaying left and right, lively as could be.
If it's called 'lifelike,' it obviously isn't alive.
"Hey, what do you think of my translation?" The person puppeteering the dragon's head tossed it aside, and the massive head crashed into the dirt, scattering dust everywhere. She turned with interest and asked, "That long, loooong, soul-stirring roar when it first showed up—wasn't that basically the meaning I just translated?"