Chapter 139 | Born as a Dragon, Sorry About That?

The piercing sound wave was like a gust of wild wind, coming quickly and leaving just as fast.

After sweeping through the entire city, it rippled outward like a wave into the boundless desert until it completely dissipated.

On the city wall, the Black Knights, who had been slightly dazed by the ear-piercing sound wave, were the first to recover.

Yet, it was hard to say whether they were fortunate or unfortunate.

When they were enhanced by dragon blood and transformed into dragonborn, their hearing had been enhanced along with it.

This allowed them to hear faint sounds during daily combat and life, gathering intel ahead of time, avoiding danger, or achieving specific goals.

This had always been a source of pride for the dragonborn Black Knights.

But now, under this indiscriminate, deafening roar, it was precisely their extraordinary hearing that caused their fragile eardrums to suffer severe trauma.

The moment the sound wave hit, the joints of their power armor could not withstand the resonance of such a high frequency, emitting sharp, clanging metallic screeches.

Thus, even with their armor's protection, a chaotic ringing lingered in the ears of most Black Knights, sounding like auditory hallucinations.

For a few with weaker constitutions, phantom pains throbbed in their brains, and their vision spun with overlapping, rotating double images.

It felt as if their brains had escaped their skulls overnight, thrown themselves into a washing machine to be spun for two and a half minutes, and then stumbled back inside like a hungover Walmart shopping bag.

Even so, it could not extinguish the hot blood of the Black Knights.

Forcing down their intense discomfort, they still resolutely swung their chainswords at the enemies before them.

“Screeech!” Amidst the tooth-gritting sound of tearing metal and flesh, along with the spray of blood, mutants that had not yet recovered from their daze were instantly decapitated, sending viscous blood and severed tentacles flying in all directions.

At the end of the day, these mutants were merely infected and parasitized hosts. Their physical bodies had not received any massive enhancements for the time being. At most, they were tireless, would not retreat from pain, and would not lose combat effectiveness from non-lethal injuries.

Thus, compared to the Black Knights, many mutants who had finally managed to scale the battlements lost their grip under the indiscriminate sound wave attack, falling clumsily from the parapets.

Yet, the mindless mutants' craving for flesh was so intense that they would always subconsciously and frantically pull down those climbing above them, hoping to climb higher and devour the delicious flesh faster.

As a result, when the mutants climbing at the very top took a sudden plunge—performing an impromptu leap of faith—they dragged down their peers who had been dazed by the sound wave and failed to let go in time. Like candied hawthorns on a stick, they fell one after another down the city wall.

They collectively put on a show of falling meteors.

The scene was like a long-constructed line of dominoes being knocked over; often, the fall of a single mutant would drag down an entire “flesh ladder” that had been painstakingly built up.

Fortunately, these mutants possessed almost nothing but the instinct to crave and devour flesh. After hitting the ground, they simply shook their heads and dragged their broken, crippled bodies to resume climbing the city wall.

Otherwise, such a devastating display of friendly fire would have surely landed them in a military court.

Only to be dragged out and shot by a firing squad for five minutes.

But even though the pressure on the city wall eased slightly because of this, not a single Black Knight felt excited. On the contrary, their nerves were stretched to the absolute limit.

Equally grim-faced was Irene, who stood at the highest vantage point.

Her gaze pierced into the distance, locking firmly onto the culprit behind the sound wave.

It was a mountain of flesh.

A mountain of flesh that was slowly writhing and crawling toward Black City.

Its movement speed was not fast. Compared to the mutant beast tide rapidly flowing past on both sides, this mountain of flesh was as slow as a snail.

But its colossal size, standing at least thirty meters tall, made it impossible for anyone to look down on it.

Towering amidst the dark, surging beast tide, such a massive form resembled a giant, stubborn reef.

And it was this seemingly harmless reef that had just unleashed a wide-area sound wave attack nearly equivalent to high-tier magic.

To be precise, the sound had been emitted by the tens of thousands of pretty faces packed densely across the mountain of flesh.

The owners of these faces all shared a distinct characteristic:

Pointy ears and grayish-black skin.

This undoubtedly revealed their identity.

Dark elves!

They were a sub-race of elves—elves who had fallen into darkness and lived underground.

They were widely distributed throughout the Underdark beneath the Arlesk Continent.

Besides the name dark elves, they had another name that echoed across the entire continent...

“Drow.”

Unlike their kin who lived on the surface and yearned for nature and peace, the drow, though possessing the same elven beauty and long lifespan, seemed to differ only in their dark skin.

But that was only on the surface.

The real reason the drow were famous throughout the continent was their incredibly loose lifestyle, which rivaled that of goblins—creatures that lived entirely by their lower bodies!

Or rather, they were simply a group of longer-lived, smarter, and more powerful goblins!

They were utterly shameless, and their desire was practically endless.

Unlike goblins, however, drow society was a true matriarchy, with “Matrons” ruling over their respective houses.

Most of their offspring were female. Male drow not only held an extremely low status in the community, but they also had to face endless waves of “exploitation” day in and day out by a massive number of insatiable female drow.

Of course, relying solely on the few men within their race was far from enough.

To satisfy their endless desires, they set their sights on other races.

Most adventurers who ventured deep into the Underdark and encountered the drow rarely escaped the fate of being completely drained.

This was why the drow's notorious reputation echoed across the entire continent.

But now, making up this mountain of flesh were thousands upon thousands of completely naked drow!

Their mangled bodies were twisted and tangled together in extremely profane and filthy postures. Countless limbs stretched out chaotically. With every stretch, they pushed the mountain of flesh forward a little in an extremely distorted manner, much like a centipede.