Translator: AnubisTL
Sunlight streamed down, bathing the scorched and ravaged earth in its golden glow.
With the death of Chieftain Bloodhoof, the minotaurs' morale collapsed like an avalanche, as if their last reserves of strength had been drained away.
However.
Minotaurs were by nature stubborn and tenacious. The vast majority continued to resist, vowing to fight to the death rather than surrender.
The Bloodhoof Clan boasted numerous powerful bosses beyond just one or two. Units on par with Bloodtooth Hodge and the two-headed ogre were plentiful, and there were even formidable shamans capable of engaging white dragons in combat.
Securing the Bloodhoof Clan's allegiance and absorbing the minotaur tribes would instantly double the Ironforged Clan's size.
Yet Garos understood that reckless expansion could be detrimental. The Iron Dragon Solgorn was currently slumbering, and Garos himself would soon enter dragon sleep within the next year or two.
Under these circumstances.
Without a strong, effective means of suppression, a minotaur population of such magnitude, even if subdued, would remain a latent threat, requiring constant vigilance against betrayal.
Moreover.
Garos had little interest in subduing creatures that stubbornly resisted and defied their own will. He harbored no particular fondness for the defiant.
For the rebellious, death was the only fitting end.
Why waste time taming them when he could focus on improving himself?
With the blood of red dragons coursing through his veins, Garos possessed a ruthless and decisive nature.
"For Chief Baal! Blood for blood!"
A one-eyed warlord roared, waving the Bloodhoof Tribe's banner.
A crimson shadow descended from the sky.
Samantha's dragon claw slammed the warlord's head into the ground. When she lifted her claw, the minotaur's horns and skull remained embedded in her palm, while his headless corpse swayed before collapsing.
Whoosh!
She surveyed the battlefield with contempt, unleashing a torrent of dragon flame.
The war banner ignited, burning into scattering fire butterflies.
Gluttonous Demon Karu tore off a boss's arm and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing with relish before crushing another minotaur's skull with a backhanded blow.
The dragonblood ogre's claws ripped through leather armor like paper, entrails dangling from its fangs as it shook its head.
A minotaur centurion attempted to rally his remaining troops, but as he raised his horn, the white dragon's massive, icy form blotted out the sunlight.
She had already slain the minotaur giant formed from the White Mane Shaman.
A frost breath engulfed the centurion, freezing him into a lifelike ice sculpture before a centaur cavalryman shattered him into countless shards, pulverizing him completely.
Elvie's arrows rained down with deadly precision, targeting sorcerers and shamans.
The Ironforged Clan began their harvest.
Only those who discarded their weapons and prostrated themselves in surrender were spared.
Once they seized the Bloodhoof Clan's resource points, the Ironforged Clan would need slaves to mine and perform the most arduous tasks. Minotaurs, though slightly less physically powerful than ogres, possessed greater endurance, making them excellent slaves.
Garos did not participate in the slaughter.
Such matters were best left to his familiars.
With the Bloodhoof Clan's forces collapsing like a landslide, Garos's intervention was unnecessary. This allowed the monsters of the Ironforged Legion to vent their bloodlust through carnage.
Notably absent from the slaughter were the Earthstorm Bears.
As Garos had instructed, they remained hidden in a cave within Dragon Valley, guarding the slumbering Iron Dragon Solgorn against any unforeseen threats.
Meanwhile, Garos remained vigilant. He stood on the ground, his gaze narrowed to slits as he meticulously scanned the sky inch by inch.
The Red Copper Dragon Deborah.
No, he should now call her the red-silver dragon Deborah.
Garos hadn't forgotten about this.
His mind was cautious, always considering the worst-case scenario.
Ever since learning of the red-silver dragon's encounter with Samantha, Garos had realized he might be Deborah's target once again.
The young female dragon seemed to harbor an obsession with him.
And damn her luck, the metallic dragons were favored by fate. She had stumbled upon him twice already, and though this third time wasn't a direct encounter, she had crossed paths with Samantha.
Where could she be hiding?
Garos found no unusual traces in the sky, yet his instincts told him the red-silver dragon was almost certainly lurking somewhere on the battlefield. He had initially suspected she might ambush him during his fierce battle with Baal—that's what he would have done.
But she hadn't.
This made Garos somewhat suspicious, but he still believed the red-silver dragon was present.
It simply meant he had underestimated the metallic dragon's moral standards.
Perhaps she considered such underhanded tactics dishonorable.
At that moment, a blood-eyed minotaur, seemingly driven to madness, charged toward the red-iron dragon.
"Blood for blood!" the minotaur roared, his killing intent palpable.
Garos, still pondering Deborah's whereabouts, impatiently flicked his tail as the minotaur approached.
Just as the tail was about to strike, the ordinary-looking minotaur suddenly glowed with a flowing, water-like light. Within the radiance, countless runes swirled, and the minotaur rapidly transformed, instantly morphing into a dragonkind form over fifteen meters long from head to tail.
It was Deborah, the red-silver dragon.
She had changed significantly since their last encounter.
Her scales were now predominantly crimson, tinged with a rosy hue, but thousands of diamond-shaped silver scales were precisely arranged along her spine, wing bones, and tail vertebrae. Newly grown silver dragon horns spiraled upward, etched with gilded patterns resembling snow lotus flowers.
Her tail and wings now occupied a greater proportion of her torso, their slender, balanced proportions lending her entire form a graceful poise. The curves of her neck, Dragon's Ridge, and tail flowed in perfect harmony, the elongated neck and streamlined body forming a crescent-like arc.
Activating her silver dragon hybrid form had dramatically enhanced Deborah's beauty, making her appear elegant and alluring to dragonkind.
Yet.
This elegant and beautiful red-silver dragon was sent tumbling through the sky by a casual flick of Garos's tail.
Abandoning all restraint, she shrieked dramatically, "Ah—! That hurts! My bones are going to shatter! You evil and crude red-iron dragon! You must compensate me for the loss of my scales! My spiritual distress! And the cost of stabilizing my flight posture!"
Garos was speechless.
He watched the beautiful red-silver dragon tumbling through the air, as if mortally wounded, the familiar theatrics dispersing some of the lingering battle qi.
"Deborah, drop the act. Did you come here just to relive the outcome of our last two encounters? To be beaten into tears and run back to your Silver Dragon Nest to tattle to your elders?"
"I'd be more than happy to extract another fortune from you."
He said.
Does she think I'm weak after the battle? That now's the perfect time for revenge?
He was somewhat fatigued, but far from weak.
Garos's gaze swept over the red-silver dragon's nearly white dragon-like physique, his eyes showing no fear.
At the same moment, the red-silver dragon gracefully flapped her wings, hovering in the air bathed in morning light and the lingering scent of gunpowder. Her magnificent scales, crimson as blood and adorned with silver, shimmered with a radiant aura in the sunlight.
Faced with Garos's challenge, she showed no anger, instead a sly smile spread across her face.
"Answer my riddle, and I'll waive your compensation."
She tilted her slender neck slightly, like a poet about to recite on a ruined stage, and spoke in a deliberately elevated, rhythmic tone, infused with the silver dragon's innate musicality and the red copper dragon's boastful operatic flair:
"Drawn by embers that never fade, nested in earth yet untrod; your tearing of the land awakened its heartbeat, my journey through smoke only to chase its glory."
"It devours the shattered dreams of cowards, drinks deep from the scars of heroes; in the crucible of despair, it forges stars, and in the ashes of endings, it buries new seeds."
Her voice paused briefly as she turned to Garos. "Tell me, hybrid dragon," she asked, "what is it?"
(End of the Chapter)
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