Translator: AnubisTL
Garos descended like a burning meteor, a comet trailing terror in its wake, crashing into a large clearing within the territory.
BOOM!!!
The earth shook violently.
Howling Crag trembled violently, sending loose rocks tumbling down and raising a thick cloud of dust. A massive shockwave, saturated with vapor, radiated outward in a circular blast. The nearest wooden shelters were torn apart like paper, hyena-men were hurled through the air by the force, and Warchief Bloodtooth had to sink his claws deep into the ground to maintain his footing.
As the dust settled, Garos slowly straightened his massive frame.
At the edge of the crater he had created, a dozen dazed hyena-men lay unconscious.
The explosive scales on his body had absorbed the kinetic energy of his descent, glowing a searing crimson. The intense heat evaporated the light rain, creating a dense white steam that swirled around him.
Though they didn't understand the significance of the crimson scales, every hyena-man instinctively sensed danger, the unmistakable scent of death.
The target had landed exactly where he wanted.
Fight?
Warchief Bloodtooth paused for a heartbeat, then suddenly lunged forward.
But not to attack.
It performed a perfect five-point prostration before Garos, its forehead slamming heavily against the ground. Its face was a mask of fawning servility, its tail wagging wildly behind it, unable to contain its awe and eagerness to please. "Great Dragon Lord! The Redeye Clan pledges eternal loyalty to you!"
This time, the pledge was sincere.
Garos's size was deceptive. Had he not demonstrated his power, the hyena-man clan might have mistaken him for a slightly stronger young dragon and attempted to hunt him. But he was far more than just a little stronger than an ordinary young dragon.
Now, having witnessed Garos's overwhelming might, the hyena-men's innate instinct to follow dragonkind had been fully awakened. Their previous petty schemes vanished, replaced by profound reverence for Garos.
"Rise," Garos commanded.
As Warchief Bloodtooth and the other kneeling hyena-men stood, Garos continued calmly, "Not all monster clans are worthy to become the chosen of dragons. You must prove your value to me before you can claim the right to pledge loyalty."
Having witnessed Garos's power, the hyena-men were consumed by a fervent desire to worship and follow him. They yearned to throw themselves at his feet and lick his claws.
Except for the priest.
Terrified that Garos might change his mind and look down on the Redeye Clan, Warchief Bloodtooth quickly asked, "Please command us. What must the Redeye Clan do to earn your favor?"
Garos narrowed his eyes slightly and countered, "Hyena-man, do you believe in divine spirits? Tell me your true thoughts!"
Bloodtooth's ears twitched in the rain, his throat bobbed, and he glanced sideways at the priest.
The Redeye Clan did believe in divine spirits.
That's what I want to say, he thought, but the words caught in his throat.
Bloodtooth's gaze flickered to the two hyena guards.
They had once been the clan's most valiant warriors, but now they were mere puppets, devoid of desire, even for mating—the hyena-men's greatest pleasure!
Rotclaw called this a "divine blessing."
But Bloodtooth had witnessed the ritual firsthand: fifty hyena-men locked in iron cages, tearing each other apart. Only the final two survivors were injected with black blood, receiving the "blessing."
During the great drought earlier this year, the Redeye Clan had sacrificed thirty percent of their hunt to implore the divine spirit for rain, but their efforts yielded nothing.
The priest claimed the divine spirit demanded greater sincerity.
This would starve even more of its clan members, driving the Redeye Clan to its doom.
Warchief Bloodtooth was inherently brutal, not a creature of compassion. He felt no pity for ordinary clan members, but as the clan leader, he deeply valued the survival of his entire people.
The sacrifices to the divine spirits had long ceased to yield benefits, gradually draining the Redeye Clan's strength.
Bloodtooth not only lacked faith but even harbored a deep resentment toward the divine spirits.
More precisely, his hatred wasn't directed at the divine spirits themselves. How could a mere mud-caked peasant dare despise the lofty gods?
What he loathed was the humiliation of being deceived and ignored.
Yeenoghu had never truly protected the Redeye Clan, and Rotclaw's curses always came at a greater cost than their benefits.
But this dragon before him was different.
His power was undeniable, visible to the naked eye.
After a few moments of silent contemplation, Warchief Bloodtooth lowered his head and replied to Garos, "Dragon Lord, the Redeye Clan worships the divine spirits, but this devotion is like a vulture's loyalty to carrion—it exists only when needed."
"Now, with your arrival, that faith is a thing of the past. The Redeye Clan's loyalty belongs to you."
This loyalty, however, remained "a vulture's loyalty to carrion."
Evil creatures are inherently this way.
But one thing is certain: as long as Garos remains as strong as ever, never weakening from his current state, the hyena-men will obey him without question.
For dragonkind, this is the simplest of matters.
Dragons grow stronger over time, as long as they live.
The hyena-men's fervent devotion to dragonkind stems primarily from this fact. Hyena-man chosen are practically standard issue for dragons.
Only creatures like dragons can bear their 'loyalty,' and few other powerful beings besides dragons are willing to take hyena-men as their chosen.
"Hodge!"
Priest Rotclaw's gaze darkened as he spoke in a deep voice, "This is blasphemy! Retract your words! The Redeye Clan's faith and loyalty can coexist! As followers of the Hyena-Man God, we must never abandon our faith, no matter the circumstances."
Hodge was the name of Warchief Bloodtooth.
Names like Hodge, Hogg, and Hawk are common among the hyena-man race.
Across from him, Warchief Bloodtooth remained silent, his heart weighing Garos's favor more heavily than the priest's words.
"Excellent."
The dragon lord's whispered approval sent a surge of joy through Warchief Bloodtooth's heart.
Garos surveyed the rain-soaked Howling Crag and the drenched hyena-men gathered below. "No followers of divine spirits are permitted among my ranks," he declared.
The ordinary hyena-men remained confused and unresponsive.
Their minds couldn't grasp complex thoughts, preoccupied instead with what to eat today, who to mate with, what to eat tomorrow, and who to mate with tomorrow. They drifted with the tide, their faith reduced to slogans chanted alongside the warlord or priest, utterly lacking any genuine understanding of devotion to a divine spirit.
But Priest Rotclaw understood.
When his faith was challenged, fury blazed in his crimson eyes, and the fur on his body nearly bristled.
"The Redeye Clan will never pledge allegiance to dragonkind who desecrate the Hyena-Man God!" he declared, his voice ringing with conviction.
Garos dismissed the priest's defiance and turned directly to Warchief Bloodtooth. "You," he commanded, "kill him. Prove your valor, loyalty, and resolve to me."
Bloodtooth's eyes widened as he stared at the priest.
In the monster clans of the wilderness, shamans, priests, and similar figures were typically revered elders, respected for their wisdom. Priest Rotclaw was older than Bloodtooth, having practically watched him grow up.
Bloodtooth had always harbored a deep-seated fear of the priest, and even as warlord, he dared not show excessive disrespect.
But now, with Garos backing him, the situation had completely changed.
Evil breeds courage!
Warchief Bloodtooth suddenly threw back his head, a guttural roar rumbling in his throat like muffled thunder.
"For the Dragon Lord!"
Hunter Pack Domination!
A crimson aura erupted from Warchief Bloodtooth's feet, instantly engulfing the surrounding hyena-man warriors.
Their muscles bulged as if inflated with tar and oil, stretching their fur taut. Their fangs elongated by several inches, and their pupils contracted into pinprick-sized red dots.
This was the warlord's trump card, originally reserved for combating Bone-Chewing Ogres, now turned against the former symbol of their faith.
Among the hyena-men, especially the warriors, Warchief Bloodtooth commanded even greater authority than the priest.
Under the influence of his domination aura, the elite hyena-man warriors showed no hesitation. They snarled, weapons and claws aimed at Priest Rotclaw, and charged into battle.
Meanwhile, Warchief Bloodtooth remained at the rear, shielding his warriors with his body, making no rash moves.
Garos noticed this and glanced at him.
Warchief Bloodtooth offered a fawning smile and declared with conviction, "Great Dragon Lord, my strength lies in commanding warriors, not in personally slaying enemies. I trust you understand."
"These warriors are my hands, my feet, my weapons."
He paused, then, as if fearing Garos might despise his cowardice, Warchief Bloodtooth puffed out his chest and added, "But if you command it, I will lead the charge myself!"
(End of the Chapter)
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