Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 342: How many do we have left?

Chapter 342: How many do we have left?

As soon as the words left his mouth, Shadow Dragon Vorundar drew in a deep breath. The dark energy surging through his body exploded into chaos, like the end of the world had arrived. Space itself seemed to tear open into a black void, radiating a terrifying, suffocating pressure.

"Withering Breath!"

Once again, that devastating innate ability erupted with full force.

Every Dungeon hero’s face changed instantly. They braced themselves, ready for impact.

But this time—before the attack could even reach them—Green Dragon Thandor stepped forward, planting himself right in the path of that terrifying wave of darkness... and stopped it cold.

"Vorundar, did you forget I’m still here?" Thandor’s voice was calm but sharp as ice, his presence unwavering as he locked eyes with the Shadow Dragon.

"You..." Vorundar’s whole body trembled. His expression froze, then twisted into a mask of fury. His face darkened, almost turning black with rage—but there was nothing he could do.

Just a second ago, he’d been scoffing at Ethan and the others, thinking they were complete idiots. Who the hell tries to awaken their powers right in front of him, Vorundar? Did they think he was invisible? Were they begging to die?

But now, in the very next moment, he realized—no, their move wasn’t stupid at all.

In fact, it was smart. Really smart.

Given the current situation, unless he was willing to take Thandor’s attacks head-on and somehow break through his defenses to kill the dragon mid-awakening, there was nothing he could do. He’d just have to stand there and watch.

But the real problem was—if he did try to force his way through...

That would mean going all in. Life or death.

A full-on gamble.

And was it worth it?

To him? Hell no.

Vorundar wasn’t just some random grunt. He was a Dungeon King—ruler of countless dimensional realms, feared across worlds, a name that made even the bravest tremble.

And Cicero? The kid was barely on his second awakening. Just a fledgling.

They weren’t even in the same league.

Risking his life for someone like that?

Not a chance.

So, even though Vorundar was still seething with rage, his body practically vibrating with fury... he hesitated. He backed off.

And that right there—that was the difference between the Dungeon cannon fodder and the real powerhouses.

Sure, the Dungeon faction was known for being brutal, fearless, insane, bloodthirsty... but the stronger they were, the more rational they became. The true elites knew how to read the battlefield. They knew when to bow their heads. They didn’t let their savage instincts cloud their judgment.

That’s what made them dangerous.

The rest? The mindless berserkers?

Yeah, they made up the bulk of the Dungeon forces. And sure, they looked scary as hell. But in the end, they were just meat shields.

Expendable.

So, with all that running through his mind, Vorundar’s face shifted from dark to pale to flushed with frustration. But in the end, he made the only smart move left.

He backed down. He gave in.

With a cold snort, Shadow Dragon Vorundar turned on his heel.

"We’re leaving."

"Wait... they’re leaving?!" Ethan blinked, stunned. He hadn’t expected them to retreat. Then he shook his head slowly, a little disappointed, and muttered under his breath:

"Damn... still had four or five Dungeon Lords left to kill."

At this point, those remaining Dungeon Lords were nothing more than oversized XP bags in Ethan’s eyes. If they’d managed to take them down, even someone like Seraphina or Cicero—both Crimson Ultimate heroes undergoing their second awakening—could’ve jumped several levels in one go.

And Kyros? Especially Kyros. If they could funnel that experience to him, there was a real chance he’d become the third Crimson Ultimate under Ethan’s command to hit second awakening.

What a damn waste.

They actually ran?

Seriously, what a shame.

Still, even though he was cursing their retreat in his heart, Ethan didn’t show a hint of it on his face.

Let alone try to stop them.

Because deep down, he knew the truth. Sure, it looked like they’d won this battle—but that was only because the Dungeon King had chosen to play it safe. He didn’t want to throw his life away in a desperate clash with Emerald Castle.

If it had come down to a real fight to the death?

Chances were, they’d be the ones lying in the dirt.

No doubt about it.

"Thanks for stepping in. If it weren’t for you, we might’ve been in serious trouble," Ethan said, taking the opportunity while Cicero was still mid-evolution to glance up at the sky and address the towering figure of Green Dragon Thandor.

Thandor looked down at him, expression unreadable at first—like he didn’t really care.

But then something seemed to click. His gaze softened just a little, and he replied coolly, "No need to thank me. The Light Alliance and the Dungeon faction are mortal enemies. Besides, those two subordinates of yours—they’re Green Dragons. That makes them half one of us."

"Still, I appreciate it," Ethan said sincerely.

"When he finishes his second awakening, bring both of them to see me. I’ve got some questions for you," Thandor added, then shook his head and launched into the sky, vanishing into the endless depths of Sylvanwood.

Ethan watched him go, his brows furrowing slightly.

His eyes flickered with thought for a long moment... but in the end, he said nothing.

Sure, Thandor had called them "half one of us," but Ethan was still an independent player lord. Thandor, on the other hand, was clearly a King-tier figure from the Forest faction.

If those two identities ever came into conflict...

It wouldn’t end well for him.

"Guess I’ll just have to take it one step at a time," Ethan muttered with a sigh, pushing the thought aside and turning his full attention back to Cicero, who was still deep in the throes of his second awakening.

"Master, the battle report’s in. Do you want to hear it?" Elynn flew over from the distance, her expression grim.

"Go ahead..." Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, already bracing himself. Just from her tone, he could tell—it wasn’t going to be good.

"Overall, we lost at least 50% of Emerald Castle’s forces in this battle. Especially among the Tier 11 and Tier 12 units—the casualty rate was over 40%... Master, the losses were massive."

"What about the Tier 13 and Tier 14 units? How many do we have left?" Ethan asked, his voice low and steady.