School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 103 --Erin’s Trace

No sooner had the statue made its appearance than the black protodragon grew restless.

It surged forward, its body shooting like an arrow from a bow.

Already fast, its full-speed approach was like a galloping horse, almost catapulting to the ground.

In just a breath, it had landed in front of Quincy.

"You thief, the God Descending Spell is inherently evil, full of hidden dangers. Now you dare to use it before me; are you seeking death?"

For the first time, the previously emotionless black protodragon’s voice betrayed anger.

Quincy remained motionless, eyes closed, muttering under his breath.

Owen could faintly hear something like "...descend, O deity, I crave for blood... not yet dead... to extinction..."

The incantations seemed shrouded in divine secrecy, indecipherable to Owen.

"Is this the God Descending Spell?" he wondered, stroking his chin.

"The black protodragon seems furious."

Quincy’s only reliance was Stanbeck.

Now, Stanbeck, eyes red with battle fury, had his giant phantom gradually turning red, filled with a wild aura.

Seeing the black protodragon’s attack, he didn’t dodge or hesitate, but charged with his sword raised high and brought it down fiercely.

His strike was like splitting mountains, destroying any deity in its path.

"Neptune race’s Blade Technique·Cresting Waves Blade," Boyd’s mouth twitched.

"Stanbeck is desperate now. But why? Is it necessary to risk his life for Quincy?"

Owen, observing from the side, remarked indifferently, "Stanbeck and Quincy share a common goal – the Heart of the Ocean. Their alliance now is only natural. However, it’s like the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Stanbeck should be careful not to weave a wedding dress for someone else."

Boyd fell silent, his pupils filled with the image of Stanbeck striking down with his sword.

The blade technique of the neptune race was indeed formidable, causing the very sky to change.

It seemed as if an ocean appeared above, the waters surging down violently, like a waterfall following the force of Stanbeck’s blade.

The black protodragon, clearly intimidated, dared not face this attack head-on.

Resorting to its previous tactic, it swung its tail like a whip.

Even the tip was as thick as two people embracing, promising a brutal impact to anyone struck by it.

Stanbeck, fearless, shifted his blade and chopped directly at the black protodragon’s tail.

The sea in the sky crashed down furiously, while the black protodragon hissed in pain, its mouth twisted grotesquely.

This hit clearly hurt the black protodragon, and Stanbeck was sent flying.

Owen’s pupils contracted to pinpoints.

The black protodragon, struck by Stanbeck’s Cresting Waves Blade, had its tail tip glowing blue before shattering explosively.

No blood was shed – after all, it was merely the artifact spirit of the Heart of the Ocean.

Quincy, seemingly oblivious to the battle, chanted faster and faster.

Correspondingly, the ivory carving in the air glowed brighter, indicating the God Descending Spell was about to be completed.

The black protodragon’s eyes blazed intensely.

It twisted its body, not pursuing Stanbeck but instead charging towards Quincy, demanding, "Stop at once."

But it was futile.

The protodragon’s head, like a battering ram, was about to reach Quincy.

Suddenly, three golden armored giants appeared in front of Quincy, blocking the black protodragon’s assault.

"Another three," Boyd exclaimed, eyes wide in astonishment.

"What background does this guy have?"

The black protodragon sent the three golden armored giants flying, its protodragon horn nearing Quincy’s face.

"Bang!" It was halted by an invisible force, failing to land its attack.

A ward! Quincy’s specialty – would he not use it?

But don’t forget, there was another one of Quincy’s wards outside the well.

Now, maintaining two wards simultaneously, even Quincy seemed somewhat strained.

"Owen," Quincy opened his eyes, "are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Owen looked at Quincy coldly: "I have no interest in contending for the Heart of the Ocean. Deal with it yourself."

A sly look crossed Quincy’s eyes, his lips curling into a chilling smile: "You think you can stay out of this, but what about your little maid? Can she withstand it?"

Owen, taken aback yet keeping his composure, responded, "A maid? I am the saint of dragons; how many maids could I possibly want? Even the saintess of the sea serpent race has submitted to me. Thinking you can threaten me with my maid is a miscalculation."

Quincy’s face darkened, unsure of Owen’s intentions: "Heh, but that maid of yours is suffering terribly in the dungeon, constantly murmuring ’master’. I didn’t expect you to be such a heartless dragon."

Owen, expressionless, spoke softly: "My maid came down here with me?"

Boyd, frowning, suddenly clapped his hands: "Oh, right, it’s that girl in green clothes, isn’t it? She saw you fall into the well and immediately jumped in without any hesitation."

"Ah, such a loyal maid you have, sir. It’s a pity she’s now in Quincy’s hands. But no matter, if a maid is lost, just find another..."

Before Boyd could finish his sentence, he found himself suspended in the air, held by the neck in Owen’s grasp, struggling to breathe.

"H-h-h... sir, I... I was wrong."

In Owen’s eyes burned a golden flame, radiating indescribable anger and majesty.

Faced with such an imposing aura, Boyd felt an urge to kneel before Owen, realizing he had spoken out of turn.

The girl was not just any maid; Owen was even willing to kill in this perilous realm for her.

Quincy, witnessing Owen’s fury, burst into laughter: "Owen, if you hold off the black protodragon for me, I’ll tell you where your maid is. I knew it; you’re not like me, harboring such foolish emotions in your heart."

Owen, discarding Boyd like trash, lightly touched down beside the black protodragon.

"Elder, please stand down."

The black protodragon’s ink-like eyes fixated on Owen: "Have you made up your mind?"

Owen, his face stern and his body coursing with arcanergy, covered in golden scales, replied, "There’s nothing to consider. Erin came with me, and I must return with her, unharmed."

"If you attack me, you won’t even make it out of this world," the black protodragon remarked, eyeing Owen’s hands and neck where the dragon scales shone like gold.

Gold Divine Dragon, the pride of dragons, it thought.

"To die, then, but together," Owen responded resolutely.

Quincy, pale and coughing through his laughter, mocked: "Owen, you truly are a fool. Such emotions are unnecessary. They’re nothing but a burden to you."

Owen roared furiously at Quincy, his voice thundering like a dragon stirring the clouds, causing Quincy’s hand to tremble: "Tell me, where is Erin?"

"First, help me hold off the black protodragon," Quincy demanded.

Golden flames danced in Owen’s eyes, his muscles tensed, ready to strike should the black protodragon make any move.

The black protodragon, with a slight grin, softly spoke, "Interesting indeed. Your woman is in the water dungeon to the west of the city, on the third level underground. She’s barely alive. Hurry."

Quincy’s face darkened, his mind reeling as if struck.

"I forgot, the black protodragon has complete control over this world. Owen doesn’t know the location of that female dragon, but the black protodragon does."

Owen’s face brightened.

He bowed slightly to the black protodragon: "Thank you, elder."

He glanced coldly at Quincy, his lips curling into a smirk sharp as a blade.

Quincy felt a chill: "I must end this quickly. Once Owen returns, he will surely join forces with the black protodragon against me."

Without hesitation, Owen darted towards the western water dungeon, swift as lightning.

The black protodragon hissed: "Aren’t you going to stop the God Descending Spell?"

Quincy, with a cold expression, closed his eyes: "The God Descending Spell, developed by Hope, you should know, once initiated, cannot be stopped."

"Your life can stop the God Descending Spell," the black protodragon said chillingly.

"It’s too late," Quincy opened his eyes, a flash of blood-red glimmering within.

...

The ghost army stood vast and formidable before the battle lines.

Leading them was a commander, expressionless, his body wreathed in ferocious flames.

Coldly, he gazed upon the formation with a sword in hand.

Phyllis’s lips twitched in response to the sea race’s questioning of "what to do next," utterly devoid of any plan.

Finn, too, was terrified.

This Ambition Army, if not ten thousand strong, surely numbered eight thousand.

Based on previous experiences battling them, even three hundred of these soldiers could spell their doom, let alone thousands.

Scratching his head, Finn suddenly had an idea.

He pulled out a half-charred comb from his space ring.

The comb, half-destroyed and scorched, still bore a slightly faded blue flower pattern at its top, its front remaining intact.

As soon as this seemingly ordinary comb appeared, the opposing army began to stir restlessly.

Several commanders stared intently at the comb.

Before setting out on this journey, Finn had returned to the palace.

King Raymond had given him this comb, with an added remark: "If you face mortal danger on the road, this item might just be of help."

Finn hadn’t taken it seriously, but now it seemed the time had come.

Indeed, with the comb’s appearance, the malevolence of the Ambition Army significantly dissipated, no longer casting a dark cloud over the city.

Anyone could feel their hostility markedly reduced.