Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 49: A... a dragon?!

"I understand..."

William Carter closed his eyes in pain once again. He remained silent for a long time before finally speaking in a slow, heavy voice. "Margaret, please go talk to our daughter. Nightfall, I need you to send word to Inferno Tyrant—I want to meet with him."

"Understood..." Nightfall nodded.

"Carter, I... Alright..." Behind William, a dignified middle-aged woman also nodded, her face filled with sorrow.

... ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Meanwhile, outside Icelight City, deep within a massive canyon—

The forces of the Inferno Dragons guild had entrenched themselves there.

Icelight City was surrounded on three sides by barren, rugged terrain, making travel difficult.

Only this side had relatively better resources—more wild creature spawn points, more of the six major resource nodes. Because of that, Inferno Dragons had taken control of the area, effectively choking off Icelight City’s players.

After all, the players of Icelight City couldn’t stay locked inside forever.

They couldn’t just grind levels and complete quests without ever stepping outside.

The same went for the members of Nocturnal Crescent.

And this strategy? It was slowly suffocating Nocturnal Crescent, dragging them into a slow, inevitable death.

The longer this stalemate lasted, the worse it would get for Nocturnal Crescent—and the better for Inferno Dragons.

Because pressure, fear, and despair weren’t just emotions. They built up over time.

The longer this dragged on, the more anxious, terrified, and hopeless Nocturnal Crescent’s members would become.

Meanwhile, Inferno Dragons? The exact opposite.

They stood at the top, looking down. Their morale, confidence, and momentum—hell, even their combat effectiveness—would only keep growing.

And as one side crumbled while the other thrived, the outcome would become inevitable.

Victory would be completely, utterly in Inferno Dragons’ hands.

And on top of that? They’d minimize their own losses in the process.

Sure, Inferno Dragons was far stronger than Nocturnal Crescent overall. But fewer casualties were always better.

At the end of the day, guild wars and siege battles were all about money.

And Inferno Dragons wasn’t so rich that they could just throw gold away like it was nothing.

"Tyrant, what are we waiting for?"

Deep within the canyon, Blake turned to a middle-aged man radiating an intense, almost murderous aura. "Didn’t we say we were going to take Icelight City in one decisive strike? Wipe Nocturnal Crescent off the map?"

"Patience, Blake."

The man—Inferno Dragons’ guild leader, Inferno Tyrant—stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing calmly toward Icelight City. His voice was steady, unshaken.

"Nocturnal Crescent is already trapped. We’re boiling the frog slowly. In the end, they’ll be the ones who break first. All we have to do is wait."

"But—"

Blake opened his mouth to argue, but another voice cut him off.

"Blake, Tyrant knows what he’s doing. Let’s trust his judgment, alright?"

The speaker was a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Blake.

None other than Blake Sinclair’s younger brother—

The second son of the Sinclair family, Nathan Sinclair.

Blake’s expression stiffened. He let out a cold snort but ultimately held his tongue.

Still, deep in his eyes, something flickered—

Jealousy. Resentment. Hatred.

Buried deep, but unmistakable.

"Heh..."

Nathan chuckled softly at Blake’s reaction, unfazed. He turned back to Inferno Tyrant and asked, "Guild Leader Tyrant, how much longer do you think Nocturnal Crescent can hold out?"

"Hold out?"

A trace of mockery flashed across Inferno Tyrant’s face. He spoke in a calm, almost indifferent tone.

"I’d say not much longer. The battles over the past few days have cost Nocturnal Crescent dearly. Their forces have taken massive losses—especially their core 5-Tier and 6-Tier units. According to my spies inside their guild, they’ve lost nearly 30 to 40 percent of them. Unless they’re planning to go down in a suicidal last stand, or throw everything into one final act of desperation, they only have two choices left—surrender, or tuck their tails between their legs and leave Icelight City for good."

"And no matter which path they take, Icelight City will belong to us. It’ll be another stronghold under Inferno Dragons—another asset of Sinclair Group."

"Hahaha! Hahahahahaha!"

By the end of his speech, Inferno Tyrant couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Once they took Icelight City, Inferno Dragons would control three Viscount-tier strongholds.

And over time, the benefits would only keep rolling in—like owning a gold mine that never ran dry.

For the future of Inferno Dragons, this was a massive step forward.

"Is that so?"

Nathan’s eyes flickered with a cold glint, but in the next moment, he was smiling again—calm, harmless.

"In that case, let’s sit back and enjoy the show. Let’s see how Carter Group and Nocturnal Crescent struggle in their final moments."

Throughout their conversation, they had completely ignored Blake—treating him like he wasn’t even there.

Blake’s entire body trembled with rage, his face twisted in fury.

But in the end, he swallowed it down and kept his mouth shut.

Because no matter how much he hated it, he had no choice.

When it came to status, he was nowhere near Inferno Tyrant or his own brother, Nathan.

And strength? That wasn’t even a contest.

Inferno Tyrant wasn’t just the leader of Inferno Dragons—he was also the strongest player under Sinclair Group. A Level 34 Hero-class powerhouse.

If Inferno Tyrant wanted to, he could crush Blake with a single finger.

As for Nathan? He wasn’t as terrifying as Inferno Tyrant, but he was still Level 20.

And he was only 25 years old.

A 25-year-old at Level 20.

Every gamer on Earth knew what that meant.

A monster-level prodigy.

That was why, years ago, Nathan had been recruited into Holy Concord Guild.

Holy Concord Guild—the second-ranked guild among the top ten.

If Nathan got the right opportunities there, he’d skyrocket to the top.

With a future like that ahead of him, how could Blake even compare?

So no matter how much jealousy burned inside him, no matter how much he hated it—

He had to endure it.

He had no choice.

At the same time, the battle between the Inferno Dragons guild and the Nocturnal Crescent guild was, in reality, a direct clash between the Sinclair Group and the Carter Group—a conflict that had drawn significant attention in the real world...

"Hey, check this out! Inferno Dragons just made a move against Nocturnal Crescent!"

"Wait, what? Inferno Dragons is attacking Nocturnal Crescent? They’re done for! Inferno Dragons is way stronger overall—once the fight starts, Nocturnal Crescent doesn’t stand a chance. There’s no way out for them..."

"Yeah, no kidding! Inferno Dragons has already mobilized their forces and is camping right outside Icelight City’s gates. If this drags on, Nocturnal Crescent will be the first to collapse."

"Damn, what a shame. Looks like another mid-tier guild is about to bite the dust."

"Shame? What’s there to feel bad about? Nocturnal Crescent is just too weak. If they had someone like Inferno Tyrant leading them, they wouldn’t be in this mess."

"Tsk, true... But hey, I heard Isabella Carter, the heiress of Carter Group, is an absolute stunner! You think we’ll get one of those classic ’hero saves the beauty’ moments? Some powerhouse who secretly admires her steps in, rescues Nocturnal Crescent, and saves Carter Group in the process?"

"Yo, hold up—whoever just said that, you gotta be a girl, right? Been watching too many dumb romance dramas? The kind of top-tier player who could turn this around would have to be at least a high-ranking member of one of the top ten guilds. You think they’re short on women? Get real."

"Exactly. Honestly, Nocturnal Crescent is pretty much screwed. Their only options are to abandon Icelight City or surrender to Inferno Dragons. Either way, it’s gonna be ugly for them."

"Let’s wait and see. I doubt it’ll take long before we know how this all ends."

...

As the conflict between Inferno Dragons and Nocturnal Crescent escalated, more and more people started paying attention.

After all, if a mid-tier guild were to collapse, it wouldn’t just be a small incident—even on a national scale, it would be a big deal.

Right now, everyone was asking the same question: How much longer can Nocturnal Crescent hold out?

Meanwhile, Ethan had been traveling day and night, and he had finally arrived in the southeastern region of the Unicorn Duchy, where Icelight City was located.

Standing atop a canyon west of the city, his gaze was cold, carrying a sharp, murderous intent.

"Inferno Dragons, huh?"

From his vantage point, he could clearly see the vast army of Inferno Dragons players spread across the landscape, along with their various unit types.

Tier 2 Gnoll Marauders, Tier 2 Hobgoblins, Tier 2 Halberdiers... Tier 4 Marksmen, Tier 4 Stone Gargoyles, Tier 4 Lizard Warriors... Tier 5 Orcs, Tier 5 Griffins, Tier 5 Stone Golems... Tier 6 Centaur Marauders, Tier 6 Royal Griffins, Tier 6 Iron Golems... and more.

Even with just a quick glance, Ethan could tell—the sheer number of troops easily exceeded six figures!!!

Ethan summoned Cicero and asked, "How hard would it be to wipe out these troops?"

"Gibber gibber..." Cicero glanced at the vast army of Inferno Dragons spread across the landscape. Without hesitation, he thumped his chest confidently, signaling that it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

"Good." Ethan nodded, took a deep breath, and patted Cicero’s massive dragon head. His voice was low but firm. "I’m counting on you."

"Roar!" Cicero let out a deep, resonant growl, rubbing affectionately against Ethan before turning his gaze toward the sea of Inferno Dragons players below. In his eyes, a dangerous glint flickered—pure, unfiltered killing intent.

Cicero wasn’t as battle-hungry as Seraphina, but if Ethan gave the order, he would do anything.

And this? This was nothing but a swarm of weaklings.

For the mighty Green Dragon Hero Cicero, crushing them would be effortless.

...

"ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!"

In the next instant, Cicero soared into the sky, unleashing a thunderous, dragon-like bellow.

At the same time, his body shifted and expanded at an alarming speed, transforming into a colossal, awe-inspiring dragon!

This was the Green Dragon race’s combat form!

BOOM!

Now standing at dozens of meters tall, Cicero was like a living mountain. His massive wings unfurled, casting an overwhelming shadow over the battlefield. A suffocating pressure radiated from his form, making the air itself feel heavy.

Then, with a single powerful flap of his wings, Cicero vanished in a blur, charging straight toward the Inferno Dragons army at terrifying speed!

"H-Hey! Look over there! What the hell is that?!"

"A... a dragon?!"

"Shit! Why the hell is there a dragon here?!"

"Wait—what’s it trying to do? No, no, it’s coming for us! RUN!"

In an instant, pure terror spread through the Inferno Dragons ranks.

They didn’t know exactly what Tier Cicero was, but one look was enough to tell them—this was something they absolutely could not fight.

And if they couldn’t fight it... there was only one option.

"ENEMY ATTACK!!"

"RUN! If you don’t move now, you’re dead!"

...

Panic erupted.

Tens of thousands of players, supposedly a mighty army, completely lost their will to fight. They turned and ran, scrambling over each other in a desperate attempt to escape.

The fear in their hearts was overwhelming.

Even Inferno Tyrant, the Guild Leader of Inferno Dragons, stood frozen in place, his face pale as a sheet.

"D-Damn it... What the hell is that thing?! A dragon?! What Tier is it—Tier 11? Tier 12?! Why is something like this here?!"

He had seen Tier 9 and Tier 10 units before, but none of them had ever exuded such an overwhelming presence.

Which meant...

This Green Dragon was at least Tier 11, maybe even Tier 12!

Something they had absolutely no chance of defeating.

ROAR!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

At that moment, Cicero struck.

His massive claws tore through the battlefield, raking across the ground like a divine force of destruction. In an instant, hundreds of troops were crushed, their bodies obliterated as if they had been run over by a massive war machine.

Then, with a single powerful flap of his wings, Cicero unleashed a violent storm, sending hundreds of Lizard Warriors spiraling into the air.

They were flung sky-high—only to plummet back down, smashing into the ground like broken dolls, their bodies shattered beyond recognition.

Gasp—!

Countless players stared in horror, their mouths hanging open.

The sheer destructive power on display was beyond anything they had ever seen.

This... This was insane!