I Received System to Become Dragonborn-Chapter 727 The Attack Came One By One

From the balcony of the throne room, King Gulben observed the battle unfolding before the palace walls, his expression hard and unreadable.

His eyes, enhanced by Magic, captured every detail with precision, allowing him to see how much stronger the Ogres and Daemons had become compared to before. And this was bad.

The metal that made up their armor moved smoothly, as if it were an extension of their bodies, while the red runes etched into every inch of the plating flared each time they were struck. The runes nearly nullified the power of Magic attacks, and they also helped diminish the impact of physical strikes.

This was undoubtedly Laston's doing. The king knew it.

"That bastard! He actually fused the sacred Magic of the Elves into metal from another world and created that abomination!"

King Gulben's fury boiled over. His fists clenched at his sides so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "But that won't be a problem, Laston. No matter how much you tamper with our sacred Magic and weave it into those abominations, you will never surpass our true power!"

The king turned on his heels and strode back into the throne room. His voice rang out, firm and commanding.

"Do not fear those abominations that Laston has created!"

His words were laced with confidence, but beyond that, they burned with rage. The white aura surrounding his body flared visibly, even though he wasn't consciously releasing it—an unmistakable sign of his fury.

"Those abominations are nothing more than a pitiful fusion of a mere fraction of our Magic. Laston is just a traitor, and he will never bring down this palace!"

King Gulben took his seat on the throne, gripping the armrests tightly, his eyes burning with determination.

The advisors, Aurdis, and several of the palace's Mages and generals stared at him. The doubt and fear that had clouded their hearts moments ago were now replaced with renewed determination.

He was right. They were the rightful wielders of this powerful Magic. Laston had fled like a coward, stealing only fragments of their pure power and mixing them with whatever he found in that other world. They were far superior to him.

Their fear had stemmed from witnessing things they did not yet understand. But the king's words reminded them that they had no reason to panic.

"The army of Ogres and Daemons!" The Mage responsible for receiving reports from the outer watchtower suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with shock.

Everyone turned to him, anxious about the news he would deliver, including King Gulben himself.

But what he said was unexpected.

"What happened? Have they grown stronger?" one of the advisors asked, voicing the concerns of the others.

"No… They're actually losing," the Mage replied. "Our forces have managed to kill many of them. Their armor doesn't protect every part of their bodies, and our soldiers are exploiting those weaknesses. We are winning, Your Majesty!"

The advisors exchanged glances before breaking into cheers. King Gulben smirked cruelly. "Look at that, Laston!"

However, amidst the celebration, Aurdis did not seem relieved. She had a sinking feeling that the worst had yet to come—that this small victory meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

But Aurdis wouldn't ruin their sense of triumph.

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The battlefield in front of the palace was indeed shifting. What had once seemed like an overwhelming advantage for the Ogres and Daemons had crumbled under the sharp instincts and adaptability of the Elven warriors.

The once-dominant armored monstrosities were now staggering, their bodies marred with deep wounds, their movements sluggish as they faltered under the relentless assault.

At first, the Elves had struggled because he enchanted metal armor also absorbed a lot of their attack, rendering their most powerful attacks useless.

Swords and spears clashed against the unyielding surface and just skidding off with barely a scratch. But the Elves were not ones to succumb to despair.

They studied their enemies with high observation and precise eyes, their keen eyes tracing every flicker of light across the engraved runes.

And then they finally saw it, the weakness.

The armor, for all its resilience, was not flawless. The joints which is the gaps where plates connected, the unprotected areas beneath the arms, behind the knees, along the neck. Those were the vulnerabilities. And once the Elves found them they exploited them with merciless precision.

An Elf soldier dodged the wild swing of an Ogre's hammer, rolling beneath its massive arm. After that, with a fast and controlled thrust, he drove his spear upward, piercing the exposed flesh between the shoulder and the chest plate.

The Ogre let out a strangled roar, its weapon slipping from its grasp as blood poured from the fatal wound.

Another Elf who dual-wielding curved daggers, moving between a Daemon's sweeping strikes, weaving like a shadow. With a single fluid motion, she leaped onto its back, driving both blades into the gap between its helmet and chest plate.

The runes flickered a little before dimming, the Daemon's body collapsing in a lifeless heap.

The Elves moved in perfect harmony and exploiting every misstep they made and every gap in the enemy's defense. Their swords found the unprotected flesh beneath armor plates, their spears pierced through exposed joints and their daggers hit at unguarded throats and eyes.

One by one, the monstrous warriors fell. The battlefield, once filled with the deafening roars of Ogres and Daemons, grew eerily silent as the last of them crumpled to the ground and died.

The Elves stood victorious, their weapons dripping with the dark blood of their foes. Though their breaths were heavy and their bodies bore wounds, they had won.

The twenty armored warriors that had once threatened to crush them had been vanquished. And they suffer no casualties.

But even as the Elves took in their hard-earned victory, a lingering unease settled over some of them. If Laston had created these abominations, what else did he have in store?

The feeling of relief and triumph lasted only for a moment. The Elves exchanged glances, needing no words to understand that the battle was far from over.

Their eyes turned toward the direction from which the Ogres and Daemons had come. They had emerged from the forest, but now, a thick mist blanketed the trees, obscuring everything beyond. The sight sent a chill through them, an ominous feeling creeping into their hearts. At any moment, another army could appear, larger and deadlier than before.

After ensuring that all enemies were slain, the Elves quickly turned back and retreated behind the wall. They passed through the Magic barrier and entered through the main gate, leaving behind the lifeless corpses of Daemons and Ogres.

Strangely, no further attacks followed. The Elves stationed atop the palace walls saw no movement, and the Mages who continuously spread their senses detected no enemy presence.

King Gulben sat on his throne, waiting for any sign of what was to come. But after an hour of tense silence, nothing happened.

Rather than relief, this only deepened their concern.

---

Meanwhile, inside Saeldir's chamber, Erend and Eccar were still passing the time in their own ways. Eccar had already fallen asleep, having run out of snacks, while Erend gazed out the window.

He had observed the battle unfold and wasn't particularly surprised — the Elves were that powerful, after all. If this was the extent of what Laston had unleashed, they would be able to hold their ground.

However, Erend knew Laston wouldn't stop there.

He let out a quiet sigh, turning back into the chamber. Once again, all he could do was wait in silence.

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Time passed, and soon, midday arrived. The Elves remained on high alert, standing atop the walls and towers, their vigilance unwavering. Despite the long hours, none allowed themselves to feel exhaustion—after all, their home was under siege, and fatigue was a weakness they could not afford.

"Enemy from the east!"

A sudden cry echoed from a watchtower. The message was swiftly relayed to King Gulben, who immediately deployed a force of appropriate strength to counter the threat.

They braced themselves for another massive assault, expecting an overwhelming enemy force. But what appeared instead were only twenty metal birds, slightly larger than the ones they had encountered before.

The archers unleashed a volley of Magic arrows, streaking through the sky toward their targets. However, once again, the runes on the metal absorbed much of the Magic's power, allowing the birds to continue their relentless flight.

The enemy machines retaliated, launching projectiles toward the palace, but the protective Magic barrier held firm, causing the attacks to explode harmlessly upon impact.

In response, the swiftest Elven warriors were deployed, their movements enhanced by Mages who granted them the ability to fly. Within minutes, the metal birds were destroyed.

Yet, the attacks did not cease. Small assaults followed, one after another, coming from every direction. Though the Elf Palace was vast, the Mages ensured seamless communication, allowing defenses to be coordinated effectively.

However, King Gulben soon noticed something troubling.

His army was beginning to show signs of exhaustion.

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