Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 351 - 351 171 Count Glade

351: Chapter 171 Count Glade 351: Chapter 171 Count Glade As the behemoth slowly descended in front of the welcoming procession, the gale under the dragon’s wings stirred up the earth, sending sand and stones flying.

The Flying Dragon raised its fierce long horns, and its colossal body, covered with large scales and chitinous dragon skin, slowly approached.

Its hind limbs hit the ground, causing a violent tremor.

With a whoosh, the dragon’s wings folded to make way for its forelimbs, and it crouched heavily, its forepaws touching the ground and stirring another tremble through the earth.

The cloaks of the nobles at the front were lifted by the sweeping wind.

They appeared relatively calm, but younger members of the procession or those who hadn’t witnessed the King riding the dragon themselves couldn’t help but exclaim softly at the sight of the immense dragon beast before them.

Many of the younger nobles were ashamed to admit the slight weakness in their knees.

They might not be cowards, but facing such a legendary dragon beast at close range, even they couldn’t help the cold sweat that instinctively broke out on their backs.

Leon glimpsed several young members of the Thorny Flower Family swallowing hard and held back any urge to laugh, understanding their feelings all too well.

In his past life, when he first approached large machinery on a construction site, even the ordinary excavator and truck made him apprehensive of the moving heavy equipment.

Facing mere mechanical tools was one thing, but the monster before him that could open its massive jaws and devour everyone at any moment was a hundred times more intimidating.

This fear was an instinct of living beings.

To know that even without considering its thick tail, just the body alone was as huge as a five-story building.

No wonder the Royal Family’s emblem featured a dragon…

They really did rear dragons.

Leon gazed at the Flying Dragon, wondering how much food such a huge beast would need to consume in one day.

He now understood why he had been advised not to ride a horse today.

Without the exceptional warhorses that had been accustomed to the presence of dragon beasts from a young age and hadn’t been scared to death, ordinary horses, probably just by hearing a dragon’s growl and the terrifying hot breath from its body, would be so frightened that they’d lose all control…

The Flying Dragon moved slowly towards the nobles waiting to greet the King, its fierce eyes sweeping over the crowd, then it slightly turned its body.

The nobles also caught sight of the Monarch looking down at his vassals from atop the dragon saddle.

“Gentlemen, pay your respects to your King,” commanded General Trosa from the very front of the procession.

In an instant, the clanking symphony of armor echoed, and the crowd that had stood shoulder to shoulder bowed down in an orderly fashion, diminished in height as if a storm had swept over a field of wheat.

All knelt on one knee, hands on their Chest Armor, heads down and eyes lowered, in allegiance to the Orland Monarch seated upon the dragon’s back.

Amid the clinking of locking gauntlets and the thump of armored bodies hitting the ground, Leon heard the steady footsteps of someone approaching, neither hurried nor slow.

A voice, both steady and commanding, reached everyone’s ears, “Rise, my loyal vassals, and brave warriors.”

Granted permission by the King, the Great Nobles at the front nodded in response and then stood up one by one, followed closely by the family troops of each vassal.

Leon rose to his feet, using his sword for support, and curiously examined the current Orland Monarch who had usurped the throne from Olivia’s birth father.

The tall figure was clad in a sumptuous heavy golden Armor.

A scarlet cloak with beast fur at the collar, pinned to his shoulders with an emblem-ornate Medal Shield necklace.

Looking at his face below the Dragon Tooth-shaped Crown symbolizing royal power, there was a middle-aged man with dazzling blond hair and hardly any signs of aging.

With piercing blue eyes and a golden beard, Lydwen III had a chiseled countenance, stern and valiant.

Especially those piercing eyes, he exuded an innate sense of authority without even showing anger.

Leon couldn’t help but feel impressed; the bloodline of the Flame Sun Forbidden Guard Commander indeed produced outstanding individuals throughout history…

This Lydwen III was also an impressively strong and handsome middle-aged man…

He had often heard Baron Eriv affectionately refer to the King as “Old Dragon” and had imagined him to be an old man tottering on the verge of death.

After all, being nearly fifty years of age was not considered young for a ruler…

At least not in the ancient monarchs of Leon’s previous life’s memories.

“Your Majesty, to fight under your banner once more is an honor for this old servant.

The loyal army of Grey Robe Valley shall always await your command,” General Trosa greeted from the front of the procession.

Lydwen responded with a smile to his old and trusted vassal, “There’s no need to flatter me, old friend.

When it comes to commanding battles and conquering fortresses, who in the Kingdom can match the Earl of Buck?

Seeing your steady military power in Mamor County, it seems your ability to lead has not diminished over the years.”

After speaking, Lydwen turned to Baron Farolis, his gaze full of profound meaning.

“Baron Eriv, for the war moving south to expand our territory, the Farolis Family has played an invaluable role.

It has been a while since I left the Royal City, and to think in the southern borders, you would be such a ‘loyal’ and wise vassal to our state affairs.”

Although these were words of praise, the corners of the King’s mouth held a hint of tease.

Baron Eriv lowered his head to the “Old Dragon” and replied with composure, “How dare I claim to be wise, Your Majesty?

I have always been faithful to the ancestral teachings.

Like the Thorny Flower, I will, as always, guard the Dragon’s lair of Drakemar with the same unchanging oath of millennia.”

The ancestral teachings…

Lydwen didn’t respond but let the playful look fade from his face, staring silently at Eriv’s eyes.