Translator: AnubisTL
"For the glory of White Mane!"
The war cry shattered the night's silence. As the two centaur chieftain launched their assault, every centaur warrior drew their weapons and charged at the iron dragon and its familiar. War spears gleamed coldly under the moonlight.
"Vile creatures! We'll tear you apart!"
The Ironforged Clan warriors froze for a moment, then erupted in fury, roaring as they met the charge.
The iron dragon faced the greatest danger, caught between the simultaneous attacks of the two centaur chieftain.
Solgorn's pupils constricted to narrow slits.
Damn it! I was too arrogant, letting my guard down and falling for their deception. If Garos were here, he would have seen through their ruse.
At the critical moment, the iron dragon twisted awkwardly to the side, rolling away.
Silvermane's sword flashed in a cold arc, slicing across the iron dragon's wing membrane and leaving a horrifying gash. Simultaneously, Ironhoof's war spear pierced the iron dragon's shoulder, piercing through its tough scales and creating a deep, bloody wound that exposed bone.
The two centaur chieftain were no ordinary foes.
This initial strike was just the beginning. Relentless and seizing their advantage, they unleashed a relentless storm of ferocious attacks.
The war spears struck with lightning speed and deadly precision, targeting the iron dragon's vulnerable joints, eyes, dragon wings, and throat. As the iron dragon dodged and defended, Silvermane's greatsword, imbued with overwhelming power, crashed down upon its body, leaving deep, bleeding gashes with each strike.
The familiars engaged the centaur forces, but their formation was quickly shattered by the centaur's main force, preventing them from reinforcing the iron dragon. Instead, elite centaur warriors launched their own assault, hurling grappling hooks and hunting nets to restrict the dragon's flight and coordinate their encirclement with the two commanders.
The most troublesome foes were the centaur archers. Their arrows pierced the iron dragon's scales, burrowing into its flesh with deadly accuracy. Their skilled marksmanship and precise shots proved a constant threat, causing the dragon immense pain and hindering its movements.
Solgorn could feel at least five arrows lodged in his muscles, the paralyzing poison coating their tips spreading through his bloodstream.
"Fall here, juvenile dragon! You will become my glory!" Ironhoof roared, his fangs bared in a savage grin.
The centaur chieftain displayed astonishing combat prowess. His four-meter-tall frame moved with unnatural agility, each thrust of his war spear aimed with deadly precision at the iron dragon's eyes or wing membranes.
Fueled by the fury of betrayal and the searing pain coursing through his body,
These emotions nearly drove the iron dragon to lose its composure, making it want to slaughter the two centaurs without hesitation.
Patience, my brother. Remember, time is on our side.
Garos's words echoed in its mind.
Calm down, Solgorn! Calm down! You are not a bloodthirsty beast, but a noble and wise member of dragonkind!
Taking a deep breath, the iron dragon suppressed its surging rage, forcing itself to regain its composure.
I can't continue fighting like this. In a one-on-one battle, I wouldn't fear a centaur chieftain with a higher life grade, but now I'm surrounded and completely restrained.
Harden Body!
The iron dragon activated its quasi-spell skill. A dark, metallic sheen flashed across its body as it reared up on its hind legs.
Clang!
The war spear pierced its breastplate, sinking an inch into its flesh before stopping. The greatsword clashed against its claws, sending sparks flying. The centaur archers' arrows clattered against its hardened scales, causing cracks to spiderweb across the dark sheen.
Enduring the combined assault of two centaur chieftain and the archers, the iron dragon seized a moment's respite amidst their relentless attacks.
Its chest swelled as it inhaled deeply, then exhaled violently. A dazzling torrent of electric fire dragon breath erupted from its maw, forcing the centaur chieftain to pale and scramble to dodge.
Caught off guard, several elite centaurs were engulfed in dragon breath, their flesh torn and bleeding as they collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony.
The iron dragon effortlessly snapped the grappling hooks and hunting nets that had ensnared it.
Perhaps I can win this, the iron dragon instinctively thought, seizing the momentary advantage. My life force is far greater than theirs, my body can withstand immense damage, and each of my attacks can cripple them. In a prolonged battle, victory is far from certain for either side.
Its old arrogance resurfaced.
But the thought vanished as quickly as it had arisen.
The humiliation of being captured by ogres remained vivid in its memory. Garos's lessons had taught it that this was no time for prolonged combat.
After forcing back the centaurs pressing around it, the iron dragon beat its wings, soared into the sky without hesitation, and climbed higher without looking back.
Whoosh!
A war spear pierced the air with a piercing shriek.
The iron dragon twisted its body, narrowly dodging the spear and the subsequent rain of arrows, continuing its ascent.
"Cowardly lizard!" Silvermane roared, tilting his head back. "Abandon all your dragonkind's dignity and honor here! Flee with your tail between your legs!"
The iron dragon's body faltered slightly, but it continued its ascent without turning back.
Flee?
No.
According to Garos, this was a strategic retreat.
Only after ascending to a height completely beyond the reach of the centaurs' attacks did the iron dragon halt, circling high above and gazing down at the minuscule figures below.
Silvermane and Ironhoof continued their taunts and insults, shouting insults and challenges.
They remembered how the white dragon years ago had also fled when outmatched, only to lose its composure after being provoked and return to battle. The White Mane Clan had nearly killed it, coming within a hair's breadth of a successful dragon hunt.
However, to their growing unease, the iron dragon merely regarded them with cold eyes from above, neither descending nor lingering to fight.
Dragonkind's innate nature often led to early demise, but the centaurs' rigid stereotypes about dragons could also backfire.
The iron dragon spoke coldly, "Centaurs, you will pay for your deceit and betrayal."
With these words, the iron dragon abandoned its camp and familiar, spread its wings, and gradually vanished into the night sky.
"What a pity we couldn't kill it," Ironhoof remarked, watching the juvenile dragon's retreating form.
"Our clan lacks sorcerers," Silvermane added. "Repelling dragons is easy, but killing them always falls just short."
Neither centaur took the juvenile dragon's final threat seriously.
They knew dragons held grudges and would inevitably return for revenge once they matured.
Centaurs, by nature, were nomadic and restless, rarely staying in one place for long. Given the slow growth rate of dragons, by the time the iron dragon returned, the centaurs would long have moved on.
"Driving out the iron dragon and reclaiming the gray magnetite mine should resolve this matter," one of the centaur chieftain said, exchanging a glance with the other. "The position of clan chief will be decided between you and me."
Their gazes locked in a fierce contest.
They then shifted their attention to the monsters wounded and captured by the centaur elite.
"Kill them all," Ironhoof said, his iron hooves radiating murderous intent. "The stench of these creatures disgusts me."
"The clan needs slaves to mine the magnetite," Silvermane countered. "It would be best to keep them as slaves."
"The gray magnetite mine needs to be exploited, but the real question is: who should be in charge?" Ironhoof asked, his gaze piercing Silvermane's.
Silvermane smiled faintly, flicking his greatsword. "I believe I should be in charge, though I suspect you disagree."
Ironhoof took the war spear offered by a nearby centaur. "Then we'll settle this the traditional way."
The surrounding centaurs retreated, clearing a space.
Under the moonlight, Ironhoof and Silvermane stood a hundred meters apart, their eyes locked. Then they stepped forward, began to run, accelerated, and charged toward each other, preparing to decide the fate of the gray magnetite mine through ritual combat.
As for the banished young iron dragon, they had already forgotten about him.
(End of the Chapter)
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