Translator: AnubisTL
The iron dragon's dragon nature urged him to kill the centaur chieftain in a fit of rage, but after spending so much time by Garos's side, he had learned restraint.
He had already demonstrated the might of dragonkind.
A living centaur chieftain was worth more than a dead one.
Silvermane froze for a moment, then bowed his head deeply, overwhelmed with relief.
"Thank you for your mercy," he said.
The iron dragon glanced at Garos and lifted his chin, silently boasting of his growth and wisdom.
Garos smiled, generous with his praise. "My dear brother," he said, "I thought you would execute him in your fury. Your growth is remarkable. You've truly impressed me."
"We share similar blood," the iron dragon replied, feigning nonchalance. "It's nothing to mention."
He tried to maintain a calm demeanor, but his tail, which unconsciously wagged behind him, betrayed his elation.
Beneath the velvet-like night sky, the Ignis Brothers interrogated Silvermane about the White Mane Clan's situation.
Silvermane held nothing back, recounting every detail of the clan's circumstances.
Nearly all of the White Mane Clan's elite warriors from the Charge Team and hunting team were gathered here. Only those temporarily incapacitated by illness or other reasons remained in the clan's territory. In addition to the Charge Team and hunting team, the clan's main camp also maintained a guard.
Silvermane believed that without the Charge Team and hunting team, even if the White Mane Clan avoided becoming dragonkind's familiars, their vitality would be severely depleted, making it difficult for them to survive in the Borderlands.
In that case, he thought, we might as well go all the way and pledge allegiance to the dragons.
He hoped to secure the iron dragon's final pardon for his actions.
Silvermane had discerned that these two juvenile dragons valued practical benefits above all else, unlike the emotional, ferocious beast-like evil dragons of legend. This meant that if the White Mane Clan surrendered, they wouldn't face senseless slaughter.
Moreover, when he first deceived the iron dragon, Silvermane had spoken some truths.
The chaos caused by the war on the northern Ice Plains had destabilized the Borderlands, making the situation even more volatile and unpredictable than before. In such circumstances, following a powerful dragon was a sound choice.
"Lead the way," Garos said tersely.
He disliked procrastination.
Now that the matter concerning the White Mane Clan had arisen, he would resolve it today.
Meanwhile, the captured ogres, werewolves, and other Ironforged retinue members would remain here as guards. The centaur warriors were stripped of their armor and weapons and placed under the watch of the Ironforged retinue and iron dragon.
These centaur warriors could not yet be fully trusted.
They had temporarily submitted out of fear of Garos's power, but deep down, resentment and resistance lingered.
Only by conquering their clan and making their relatives—wives and children bound by blood—members of the Ironforged Clan could they become truly reliable.
Garos planned to take only the severely wounded Silvermane to the Centaur Clan.
He was no evil dragon, so he would first attempt communication and negotiation rather than bloody suppression. But if talks failed, he wouldn't hesitate to let the centaurs experience the martial dragon's combat prowess firsthand.
However...
Just as Garos was about to lift Silvermane into the air and depart, his gaze suddenly shifted upward.
At the edge of the night sky, a snow-white figure was breaking through the clouds.
It was a female centaur with twin wings sprouting from her back. The moonlight bathed her feathers in a radiant glow, making each plume shimmer with an otherworldly brilliance.
"Is this the Elvie you mentioned?" Garos asked, glancing at the centaur chieftain.
"Yes, it's her," Silvermane replied softly. "She's the strongest warrior of our younger generation."
A half-elf with atavistic pegasus bloodline, possessing a pair of pegasus wings—truly a rare and extraordinary being, almost as rare as a hybrid dragon. The red-iron dragon narrowed its eyes, patiently awaiting the hybrid centaur's approach.
Elvie wore light armor, her figure more slender than that of a typical centaur. A longbow, taller than her own height, was slung diagonally across her back, while she gripped a silver greatsword tightly in her hand. With each beat of her wings, her hooves lightly tapped the air as she descended gracefully toward the ground.
Unlike Silvermane and Ironhoof, Elvie had no intention of directly confronting the young iron dragon. She sensed something unnatural about its appearance and, possessing greater patience, preferred to track it first to determine its origins before deciding on her next move.
But Ironhoof and Silvermane, driven by their ambition for the clan chief's position, had acted prematurely, drawing out the terrifying entity behind the iron dragon.
By the time Elvie arrived, she witnessed the red-iron dragon's devastating rout of the centaur forces and Silvermane's surrender.
She had initially intended to return to her clan first to report what had transpired here.
However, fearing she might reveal her presence, she remained hidden among the clouds, observing silently.
When she realized the red-iron dragon wouldn't even wait a day before seizing Silvermane and heading straight for the Centaur Clan, Elvie knew she couldn't outpace him. She had no choice but to reveal herself.
If the red-iron dragon reached the clan's territory first, Elvie knew her fellow guards would inevitably clash with him, leading to bloodshed and casualties.
Thus, she made her presence known.
"Honorable dragonkind," the centaur said, landing before Garos and bowing deeply. "I am the captain of the White Mane Clan's guard. I pledge my loyalty to you and will accompany you to the clan to ensure my people show you proper respect and reverence."
After a pause, she lowered her head, maintaining a humble posture, and continued, "However, in centaur tradition, surrendering without a fight is the greatest shame. I humbly request the honor of challenging you."
Silvermane wanted to speak, but a glance at the red-iron dragon reminded him not to overstep his bounds.
Garos's gaze settled on the hybrid centaur, noting the distinct traits of both elf and pegasus.
Pegasi were celestial beings, typically found in the company of powerful entities like seraphim. Rare sightings on the material plane made Elvie's atavistic pegasus bloodline, in Garos's eyes, far more noteworthy than her half-elf heritage.
Time ticked by.
After scrutinizing the hybrid centaur for a few seconds, he said, "Come, challenger."
Across from him, Elvie lifted her head, revealing her exquisitely perfect features.
"Please be careful. I'm coming," she warned, before her feathered wings erupted in a pale blue light, and her four hooves lifted lightly off the ground.
Instead of charging directly, she conjured a complex rune in the air with her left hand and swiftly brushed it across her sword's blade.
Wind Blade Enchantment!
As her hand swept across the blade, inch by inch, azure wind materialized along its edge, humming like a plucked string with each swing.
Elvie was a magic warrior.
As the name suggests, magic warriors are a class that combines magic and martial skills. They require exceptional innate talent, making the requirements for joining this class extremely high. However, this high barrier to entry often means they are far more powerful than ordinary classes.
Magic warriors wield single-handed weapons and cast spells without incantations, primarily through hand seals formed with their free hand.
"A rare class indeed. Interesting. This hybrid centaur might just surprise me," Garos thought silently, refraining from making the first move.
In the next instant, the hybrid centaur suddenly charged forward, closing the distance rapidly. Her left hand continued to weave hand seals, casting spells as she moved.
She raised her greatsword high, its blade flashing with incredible speed as it slashed toward Garos's eyes—his vital points.
Garos raised his claw with overwhelming force, sweeping it horizontally toward the hybrid centaur's body.
Boom!
The hybrid centaur was struck, her body instantly shattering into fragments. Yet there was no blood or flesh; instead, she exploded into a swirling vortex of azure wind. Her true form reappeared behind Garos's right side, her greatsword vibrating with high-frequency wind blades as she aimed for the joint of his hind leg.
But before the strike could land, a shadow suddenly appeared beneath Elvie, and a crushing wind pressure descended from above.
(End of the Chapter)
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