Early the next morning, before the sun had set, Diego, Nazaire and Dezko were on their way.
They rode the griffin mounts provided by the Hammer Dwarves, for which the Orcs and Minotaurs spent nearly an hour learning how to take off - as for learning to land, they didn't have that time to waste, and perhaps the dwarves who taught them riding thought that the two thick-skinned creatures probably didn't care if they landed face first when they fell from a few meters in the air.
Although all three men were dressed in light leather and chain mail, and although the three griffons were carefully selected, the minotaur's stout size was too large, as could be seen from the griffon's crooked flight posture and the distressed faces of the brute-hammer dwarves.
"Ready?
Come on!
” Diego skillfully controlled his griffons and flew off the ground, while the orcs and minotaurs clumsily controlled the other two behemoths in their immediate pursuits.
To be honest, they didn't talk about control at all, they were more focused on holding the griffon's neck so that it didn't fall off, and as for how to fly, the two griffons themselves were better at this than they did.
Diego rode the griffin over the walls, adjusting the height to a little higher than the treetops.
He saw that Masrae and Guan Haifa were leading a small group of soldiers from the land route to the depths of the swamp, which was Bolval's idea, and he thought it better to send two teams of men and horses, just in case.
From the air, the smog of the mud swamp has long since dissipated, and now it looks like a blue sky, and the sun rises from the eastern horizon to welcome this new day to come.
At their feet, countless ponds and pools of water reflect the brilliant sunlight and look like strings of pearls.
Diego never imagined that the Dust Swamp would one day become so beautiful, as if it had been reborn.
But he didn't know if the fog would rise again, hiding the damp land again.
The ground was littered with scattered animal carcasses.
There were giant spiders, wind snakes, and velociraptors, who might have died from last night's backflow, but Diego couldn't figure out how the swamp crocodile had drowned.
Among these corpses.
He also saw the corpses of some minotaurs.
Diego knew that in the swamp there was a village of the Minotaur of the Terror Totem Clan called Dreadhorn Village.
This is where the corpses may have come from, and he saw the sad look of the dead rabbit and fox in Dezko's eyes.
Long flights are never easy, as you have to hold your legs tightly to keep your griffin from falling, but you can't clamp it so hard that it suffocates it, and that's a hard scale.
They flew for most of the day, until Diego felt like he was losing sensation in both legs, and finally they returned to Onexia's lair.
Overnight, the world was turned upside down.
The hill had long since sunk completely, replaced by a huge pool of lava slightly higher than the ground, and even after a night, the lava had not cooled and was still bubbling with slurry.
Due to the high terrain, the flood waters have receded, and the corpses of many dragonmen are dotted on the scorched gravel ground, and as the origin of the disaster, the creatures here can barely hide from the past.
However, Diego saw no signs of other baby or adult dragons.
Perhaps horrified by Onexia's death, the flying dragons have left the area to find another place to hide.
But Diego was glad he hadn't found any human, orc, or minotaur corpses here.
Not only him, but Dezko and Nazaire behind him were also secretly relieved.
Diego walked around the black dragon's tomb a few times with some regret, and then flew west, continuing to search for his men.
It didn't take long to fly—but it took them a full day and a half on foot—and the desolation around the dragon's lair faded away, and the red willows and marsh pines characteristic of the marshes began to emerge and flourish.
They slowed down their flight so that they could spot their team among the canopies.
They soon discovered their target - the gleaming metal armor of the human soldiers helped them a lot.
Amid the cheers of the soldiers, the three of them landed in a glade—Diego's griffon, to be exact, landed the only one in the normal way.
The other two griffins, who had long been tortured by the lame riders, threw the orcs and minotaurs away with a barrel roll, and then left without looking back.
"Hell.
I knew the dwarves weren't at ease, they didn't teach us how to land at the beginning.
The orc, pulled headfirst out of the dirt like a turnip, yelled.
"Come on.
They at least lowered their height to drop you.
Diego gloated.
"Phew!
Bah!
The orc spat out a few mouthfuls of mud and swore an oath, "I swear, I won't ride any living creatures except for wolves, and those animals are not trustworthy at all." ” Diego didn't pay any more attention to the chattering orcs, but turned to look at his soldiers, "Hey guys, how was last night?"
” "Not good!"
Christopher?
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Farrar stepped out of the crowd, "Praise the Light, we have to thank these trees for keeping us safe from the overwhelming ash and raging waters.
But judging from this battle, you should have succeeded, right?
” "Yes, but I'm sorry I wasn't with you guys during that tough time," Diego clapped him in celebration as he waved to the soldiers around him who were cheering at the news, "How are the guys?"
” "A bad news and a bad news, you want to hear that first?"
Farrar smiled and asked in a very old-fashioned way.
"Come on, man, whatever you want first."
Diego said with a smile, it seems that the losses of this group are not heavy, at least Farrar is still in the mood to tease a few words.
"The good news is that we're all safe, the bad news is that we've lost all our baggage and supplies – all swept away by the sea."
Farrar pulled an onion from the bag around his waist and slid it, "This is my last bite to eat, if you don't come again, we'll have to find something to eat ourselves." ” "Actually, I didn't bring anything to eat."
Diego scratched his head a little embarrassed, "But, it's okay, we'll have something to eat." ” He patted the musket on his back, for a hunter, in the dust swamp full of game, how could he be hungry, let alone the orcs and minotaurs, these two races that were good at nomadism were born to hunt.
What's more, many of the beasts fled to the higher west to escape the rising waters from the east, meaning they would not be short of prey in the days to come.
(To be continued.) )