At the spot he pointed to, where every Shadow Arrow had landed earlier, they all transformed into swirling clouds of smoke. They rose straight from the ground, and in an instant assumed human form, becoming one by one, the living Dragon's henchmen.

Linen saw these Dragon's henchmen and couldn't help but gasp, "Shields can't stop creatures."

"So we need to hurry," Fang Hong asked, "Where is the entrance to the lower level?"

Before his words were finished, suddenly the ground beneath them gave a violent drop.

With a loud crash, half of the hall sank downward as if the entire venue had tilted, and the ground now cracked open, colliding directly into the seventy-sixth layer. The two levels of flooring pressed against each other suddenly, as the floor below couldn't bear the force, making another cracking sound.

Then they fell layer by layer, instantly forming a huge gap in front of the two of them.

Linen immediately lost his footing and began to slide downward.

Luckily, he still held onto the Claw Hook from earlier. Fang Hong grabbed the Claw Hook with a reverse grip and pulled Linen back forcefully. At the same time, he clawed at the ground with his other hand, and the Pride of the Lonely King's claw also dug deep into the floor.

It scraped out a spark on the ground, allowing the two of them to come to a complete stop.

In their ears was the chaotic noise of clattering, as the exhibits in the hall gathered together like a mudflow, rolling and falling into the crack below. Almost a century of history vanished there, but neither Fang Hong nor Linen had time to grieve over it.

Because both of them took a look at that gaping black chasm below, and felt a chill up their spines.

"... Do we still have to go down?" Linen swallowed hard, unable to resist asking.

"Down to hell, we do not."

Fang Hong looked up, seeing Nikopolas at the crack outside the High Tower, where, in the darkness, a pair of golden eyes coldly watched them through the blue screen. And on both slanted sides of the hall, there were no fewer than dozens of Dragon's henchmen closing in their direction.

This was almost a dead end.

But instead, he found himself becoming increasingly calm. He seemed to always have this trait: the more dangerous, the calmer he became.

"We need to think of something," he whispered to Linen.

"What?" Linen, too, was affected by his calm voice and couldn't help but ask.

Fang Hong squinted his eyes.

Above the hall, a shadow was cast into his vision—

The tall shadow was firmly fixed on the rack, unmoving even as the hall tilted.

It was only about five meters away from the two of them.

Fang Hong turned back and suddenly asked in a low voice:

"Linen."

"What is it?"

"Have you ever piloted a Dragon Knight?"

"Huh?"

...

Atop the High Tower, the smoke was slowly dissipating.

Su Changfeng, the two Grand Artificers of Elfendo, Virus and the others, all stood still, looking toward the direction of Fanric's central city. On the White Tower in the clear blue sky, slowly unfolding pitch-black wings made a deep impression on everyone present.

Only Ditke, with one hand on his sword, let his gaze flicker slightly, watching this scene in silence.

Someone couldn't help but whisper, "... Is that kid... still savable?"

Yet, in the silence, nobody responded.

The gentle breeze over Long Lake gently rippled the water surface, whipping Su Changfeng's coat collar into a flutter.

He lowered his head, one hand reaching into his pocket. After some fidgeting, he took out his Communication Crystal.

The spindle-shaped crystal flickered faintly red in his palm.

A voice came from inside:

"Captain Su, we've arrived."

Unconsciously, everyone lifted their heads.

The clouds were parting.

A sleek ship's hull, reflecting the brilliant sunlight, was currently emerging from the clouds.

Captain Zhou Zhengyu put down the communicator, lightly tugging at his white gloves, then looked forward— the shadow of the Elfendo Tower reflected deep in his eyes. With a gentle swipe downward with his hand, he spoke:

"Ship 571, reduce speed."

"Open the side hatch."

"Battle Plan No. 3, Plan B."

The Captain's Room was a hive of activity, with every Messenger Official picking up their Communication Crystal:

"Reduce sails by two-thirds."

"Open side hatch, buoyancy decreased by 32.7%."

"Guy Engine entering full power operation state."

"Estimated overload time is seven minutes and thirty seconds."

"Combat personnel, assume battle positions."

Amongst the creaking, the transverse wings folded back once more— the Airship's side compartment doors began to shakily open up and down, like a line of light emerging in the darkness, projecting onto the faces of everyone stationed on the lower deck.

The white light gradually expanded, allowing everyone to see the scene outside— the azure sky, the White Tower standing amidst the clouds, and the huge shadow atop the High Tower.

There, the Dark Giant Dragon raised its head, casting a cold glance over this warship, while the Golden Star Fire flickered momentarily.

On the deck were rows of Combat Artisans in grey coats.

"Commence combat projection."

"The opponent is the Dark Giant Dragon, maintain tactical formation—"

"Units one to three, deploy."

Everyone took a step forward.

The Alchemists faced the towering shadows beside them, standing shoulder to shoulder. At this moment, every individual received the orders, simultaneously releasing the restraints on their gloves, and with a light sound, they turned their standardized metal gloves, raising them in unison:

A sudden sound of locks releasing came from below the tall Constructs, as they tipped forward, sparking a fire beneath their feet— the first, second, and third knight-shaped Constructs leaped from the deck, plunging down below the clouds.

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