"Victory belongs to the dragons!"
"Victory belongs to the Molten Iron Tribe!"
"Victory belongs to the great Lord of the Crimson Wings!"
"..."
The eastern horizon was just beginning to show a hint of pale light; the sun had not yet risen.
But atop the Quenchfire Highlands, accompanied by fervent shouts that tore through the morning mist and soared into the clouds, this campaign that had lasted for some time finally concluded with the Molten Iron Tribe's undisputed and complete victory.
"The Leyline Symbiosis Pool... Good, its scale has expanded more than tenfold since the beginning."
In the most central, heavily guarded area of the stronghold, Garros once again saw the familiar yet somewhat alien Leyline Symbiosis Pool.
Completely different from how it looked when it was abandoned in his memory, the Symbiotic Pool now occupied more than ten times the area.
The pool walls were reinforced with a type of obsidian and metal imbued with magic. Just by approaching slightly, the Iron Dragon Bloodline talent within Garros's body began to pulse wildly, signaling that the area ahead contained extremely pure metal and mineral essences.
Garros took heavy steps toward the edge of the pool and lowered his massive dragon head to look inside.
Refined Iron Marrow, Red Steel Marrow, Red Jade Marrow, Dark Gold Marrow... all sorts of top-tier rare Ores and metal crystals grew and spread across the pool's bottom and walls as if they were alive, shimmering with an enticing luster.
Their absolute quantity might not be described as a mountain, but it was certainly not small either.
More importantly, the quality was extremely high; almost all of them were top-tier Materials rarely seen on the market, possessing immense value.
"Everything here is good stuff."
The Red-Iron Dragon swayed his head as his thick, long tail reached out and curled flexibly, prying a fist-sized piece of Refined Iron Marrow shimmering with a dull metallic luster from the pool wall, then tossed it directly into his maw full of sharp teeth.
After chewing it a few times and swallowing, the Red-Iron Dragon showed a look of some satisfaction.
These minerals would nourish and strengthen his every scale, every bone, and every muscle, allowing his body to grow stronger at a faster rate.
With this pool of top-grade minerals, plus the black oil crystals and various magic gems containing elemental energy that Elena continued to invest... he didn't need to worry about a lack of resources.
Even though his current Life Level was higher, his growth speed would not slow down.
"Leaving this Leyline Symbiosis Pool behind back then was a correct decision."
"After the humans occupied this place, they poured in a massive amount of resources to cultivate and upgrade it... but now, all of this, along with the interest, has returned to us."
The Iron Dragon Sorog also landed, following the strong guidance of his Bloodline instinct.
Seeing the massive scale of the Symbiotic Pool, even with his composure, a hint of heat couldn't help but flash in his dragon eyes.
The Duchy of Raymond had stationed heavy troops here not only because the Quenchfire Highlands itself was an important strategic pivot, but also because this upgraded and renovated Leyline Symbiosis Pool was undoubtedly one of the core reasons.
If not for the fact that the war on the southern front was critical and had tied up the vast majority of the Duchy's top-tier combat power, the number of experts stationed here would likely have been far more than this.
Garros was not polite, using his tail to curl up a few more pieces of differently colored Ore, stuffing them into his mouth to chew and swallow.
After a moment of contemplation, he suddenly beat his wings and soared into the sky.
*Boom!*
The Red-Iron Dragon circled above the Quenchfire Highlands, patrolling his reclaimed territory, before landing with a crash upon a section of broken city wall that was still standing but covered in cracks and scorch marks, his sharp claws digging deep into the hard rock-iron surface.
He raised his formidable head and looked around.
He lowered his gaze to look down at the thousands of subjects who were cheering, busy, or resting below.
At the same time, he stretched his dragon wings to their maximum extent, spreading them ostentatiously like the most striking of war banners.
"My subjects! The victory of this battle is merely a beginning!"
His deep, thick voice rolled like thunder across the entire highlands, reaching the ears of every creature.
"From this day forward! Under the protection of my wings, the Molten Iron Tribe shall be invincible and ever-victorious!"
"The dragon banner forged of fire and iron shall eventually be planted upon every inch of the Serel Wilderness!"
"Victory and glory belong to me! They belong to the tribe! And they belong to every single one of my subjects who fights for me and never retreats!"
He tilted his head back toward the sky and let out a stirring dragon roar that shook the heavens, announcing the arrival of a new era.
Garros was not one for an ostentatious personality, but after such a hearty and complete victory, it was necessary to make some inspiring declarations to maximize the morale of the entire army and consolidate and strengthen his own prestige.
Just as his voice fell.
The subordinates listening to his words boiled over with excitement.
Centaur Warriors struck the earth heavily with their iron hooves, creating a thunderous drum-like rhythm; Ogres beat their chests covered in bone armor frantically, producing muffled thuds; werewolves raised their heads toward the gradually fading night sky, letting out long, bloodthirsty howls.
Countless Gnolls, Kobolds, Lizardfolk... all members of the Molten Iron Tribe vented the excitement and thrill in their hearts in the most fanatical ways of their respective races.
Countless gazes, mixed with awe, fanaticism, and worship, focused on the formidable and majestic dragon shadow atop the wall ruins.
Dozens of seconds later.
Under the watch of all his subordinates, the Red-Iron Dragon spread his wings once more, his massive body spiraling up into the gradually brightening sky, tearing a long, comet-like burning trail across the pale blue firmament before eventually disappearing into the distance.
The clamor and cheering on the highlands slowly subsided with his departure.
Afterward, according to the established arrangements, Red Dragon Samantha beat her wings and returned to the Broken Spine Hills, which she was responsible for and which was gradually transforming into an alchemy industrial zone.
The young Blue Dragon Heriam and Red Dragon Cahill returned together to the Ximu Territory.
On one hand, they would rest and reorganize, and on the other, they would strengthen the defenses of the main stronghold.
The Iron Dragon Sorog chose to temporarily remain stationed at the newly captured Quenchfire Highlands.
He methodically instructed the subordinate leaders taking over the area to immediately begin cleaning up the aftermath of the battlefield, carefully organizing and collecting all intact alchemy machines, armor, weapons, and other valuable spoils of war, while properly disposing of the mountain of corpses and useless waste.
A short while later.
Serel Wilderness, Coniferous Valley.
The Red-Iron Dragon folded his wings and landed on a familiar patch of open ground beside his nest.
The slimes that had been waiting here for a long time immediately swarmed around him by instinct, only to be driven back by a low growl from him.
Not until he had finished a round of high-intensity exercise with lingering enthusiasm.
Garros panted slightly, finally relaxing as he commanded, "Come."
Having received permission, the slimes immediately acted like the most dedicated attendants, swarming forward to use their soft and sticky bodies to carefully wipe and clean Garros's dragon scales inch by inch.
A cool, slippery sensation washed over him, taking away the filth and bringing a sense of refreshment.
"The Quenchfire Highlands is just the beginning."
"The short-term goal now is to take the entire northwestern region of the wilderness."
Garros closed his eyes for a nap, enjoying the cool, soft touch of the slimes as they moved between the gaps of his scales, enjoying this moment of peace and cleaning service while silently pondering his next strategy.
The Serel Wilderness was vast and boundless, enough to make powerful kingdoms feel ashamed.
Upon this land were scattered numerous duchies, kingdoms, and even secret strongholds of certain powerful organizations. The northwestern region alone far exceeded The Borderlands in scale.
However.
Now, the elite forces and top-tier experts of those human nations were almost all tied up in that unprecedented civil war on the southern front, fighting within their own borders or on major battlefields.
They were not in these remote wilderness strongholds.
As long as one did not fear the potential liquidation and retaliation from the Federation afterward, these strongholds established in the wilderness by the Federation nations were not a major problem for the current Molten Iron Tribe.
For now, the Molten Iron Tribe's strategy was quite clear.
As long as they did not take the initiative to provoke strongholds belonging to the Kingdom of Lothern's camp, they would not invite extra trouble.
Conversely, if they actively crusaded against strongholds belonging to the Kingdom of Rebos's camp, they could even obtain substantial funding and material support from Crystal Princess Elena.
At least, until the dust of the Federation's civil war settled, this tacit understanding would continue to exist.
What truly required vigilance and concern...
Were actually powerful existences like the previous Necromancer Phillips or the Red Dragon father Gorthax... entities similar in nature to the Molten Iron Tribe, taking advantage of the Federation's civil war and the collapse of order to no longer restrain their claws and fangs, emerging one after another.
"The wilderness is vast and primitive, containing many resources; it is the best soil for breeding the powerful."
"Back when the Federation was at its peak and order was strict, who knows how many formidable creatures chose to go into dormancy, hiding in secret caves, ancient ruins, or deep within inaccessible dead zones, silently licking their claws and waiting for their moment."
"And now, the time has come."
"Those hidden beasts and venomous snakes will only gradually reveal their edges and fangs, more and more of them."
Garros silently analyzed the situation in his heart.
He knew very well that these powerful creatures, who shared similar ambitions and a thirst for power and resources, were the truly threatening enemies the Molten Iron Tribe would need to deal with seriously next.
If they chose to emerge at this moment, their purpose was bound to be to seize certain resources, expand their territory, or realize some long-dormant ambition.
They were not like those fixed stronghold legions of the duchies or kingdoms, which mainly focused on defense and would leave one in peace as long as they weren't provoked.
These competitors of the Molten Iron Tribe were themselves the sources of chaos and expansion.
However, Garros did not find this troublesome or difficult.
On the contrary, he believed that this chaotic era of rising heroes was exactly what he needed.
For a descendant of an Evil Dragon like himself, who was naturally prone to being crusaded against and targeted, this chaotic world where no one could cover the sky with one hand actually provided excellent space for growth and expansion.
He reined in his somewhat wandering thoughts and refocused his mind on the specific intelligence regarding the northwestern region.
As early as when the Molten Iron Tribe had just unified The Borderlands and the Federation civil war had not yet fully broken out, he had taken precautions, sending a large number of elite scouts into the Serel Wilderness to infiltrate and investigate intelligence from all sides.
Now, these early investments had yielded quite good returns.
According to the summarized intelligence...
As the Federation's control over the wilderness rapidly weakened, the northwestern region was like a beast that had broken its shackles, its power landscape undergoing a violent reshuffling.
Among them, five existences had already risen to fame and dominated their respective areas by virtue of their powerful strength and rapid expansion momentum.
[Deer King]
[Four-Headed Python King]
[Hundred-Eyed King]
[Lion King]
And him, the [King of Molten Iron].
Some well-informed sentient beings who knew the general layout collectively referred to these five most powerful existences in the northwestern region as the [map kings], or the [Northwest Five Kings].
Setting aside himself, the King of Molten Iron.
Among the other four map kings, the Deer King was an Advanced Magic Beast with extremely high intelligence and the ability to command powerful elements, appearing as a vigorous and elegant white doe.
Under her command were gathered many powerful magic beasts with varying degrees of intelligence, occupying the Mist Woodlands in the northwest.
The Python King and the Lion King were two notoriously fierce Vicious Beasts.
Completely different from other Vicious Beasts that acted only on instinct, they both possessed intelligence no inferior to humans, and each had their own unique skills and special abilities; they could not be viewed as ordinary Vicious Beasts. They commanded and ruled powerful beast swarms, occupying the Misty Marshlands and Echo Canyon respectively.
As for the Hundred-Eyed King, he was a relatively rare and incredibly powerful psionic Beholder.
The Hundred-Eyed King enslaved many races, including humans, demi-humans, Vicious Beasts, and magic beasts, through terrifying mind control skills, building a distorted and prosperous territory with a lair located in the Lightless Jungle.
"That lich Necromancer... if he hadn't had the bad luck to run into me first, in time, this northwestern region might have gained another Lich King."
Garros thought to himself.
Any creature that could win the title of King at the start of a chaotic era could not possibly be weak.
If the Molten Iron Tribe wanted to expand smoothly in the northwestern region of the wilderness, it was destined not to be plain sailing; conflicts with these neighbors were almost inevitable.
At the same time.
The slimes finished their cleaning and quietly withdrew. His body refreshed, the Red-Iron Dragon opened his eyes and gazed toward the vast sky, toward the other directions of the wilderness.
The victory at the Quenchfire Highlands was only the prologue.
Not just in the northwest, but in other regions of the Serel Wilderness—the East, the South, the Center... there were similarly powerful map kings.
It was foreseeable that...
With the passage of time, even more brutal conflicts and annexations would inevitably break out between these rising map kings, eventually deciding a regional king who could truly rule the entire area.
And on this great stage of the wilderness...
Only by first becoming a regional king in name and reality would one have enough qualification and strength to compete for that final title of King of the Wilderness.
It was worth mentioning that...
Red Dragon Gorthax was mainly active in the central region of the wilderness, and he also had a corresponding title.
—The [Mad King]
Due to his own chaotic and arbitrary style, he had not deliberately moved to eradicate other central lords in the central region, but because of those arrogant and unrestrained mad actions, he already had a faint trend of becoming the regional king. As long as no accidents occurred, it was only a matter of time.