Translator: AnubisTL
"The Blue Dragon Clan," Alberto mused. "I've heard they are known as—the Dominic Family."
Hearing Alberto clearly utter the name, Garos's heart tightened.
Speak of the devil.
The Dominic Family—this was the very clan that Heliam and his fellow blue dragons had defected from.
If this Blue Dragon Family, currently expanding its influence in the heart of the wilderness, discovered the slightest trace—if they learned that the Ignis Dragon Clan was harboring the little dragons who had fled their ranks—a violent conflict would be inevitable.
However, Garos quickly suppressed this worry. This was not the most pressing matter at hand.
He turned a scrutinizing gaze on Alberto and asked, "Alberto, where did you get this information about Gorsas, the Dominic Family, and the shifting power dynamics in the wilderness?"
Alberto raised his head proudly, squaring his broad chest before the red-iron dragon.
"Garos, do you think my brilliant, shimmering gold scales are merely for show? My network of connections is far more extensive than any evil dragon could imagine."
Finally, Alberto had found a domain where he could hold his head high and showcase his superiority before Garos. He felt a long-lost sense of gold dragon pride and satisfaction.
He continued, his tone tinged with reminiscence. "Let me give you a direct example."
"My own parents once considered my ideas too rebellious, completely at odds with the traditional Way of the Gold Dragon."
"To guide me back to the path they deemed correct—to expose me to orthodox values and society—they sent me to the prosperous and powerful Kingdom of Ribos while I was still in my young dragon stage. There, I entered their Royal Noble Academy to receive an education."
"In that place, I met many open-minded and worldly human friends, including several princes and heirs to prominent nobles. With their encouragement and support, I became even more resolute in choosing this unique path!"
Garos found himself momentarily speechless.
This was an experience he had never imagined.
However, he thought, if I were Alberto's traditionalist gold dragon parents, facing such a rebellious scion would be quite a headache.
After a brief discussion about other potential threats and opportunities in the wilderness, Alberto slowly steadied his breathing, which had grown ragged from the intense training.
He cast aside his previous casualness, his expression turning grave. Addressing the red-iron dragon, he spoke with solemnity:
"Garos, my territory in the wilderness has already begun to take shape, and it will only grow stronger. You must hurry as well. I look forward to the day we can fight side by side across this vast wilderness!"
As his words fell, he hesitated no longer.
The Gold Dragon Alberto beat his wings and soared into the sky, gradually merging into the darkening heavens until he vanished completely, leaving only the unsettled ripples of air in his wake.
Garos silently watched the direction where the gold dragon had disappeared and took a deep breath.
The evening air of the wilderness, carrying the metallic chill and the scent of dust, flooded his lungs.
Suddenly, he felt a faint itch beneath his scales. Turning to inspect his own armor, which gleamed with a heavy metallic luster, he thought to himself: It's time to have the Serpentfolk Blademaster give me a proper polish.
With that, he took flight, heading toward the Fertile Plains.
The fulfilling and peaceful days slipped by like sand through his fingers, leaving no trace behind.
In the blink of an eye, a month passed.
By now, the Ironforged Tribe had sharpened its blades and readied its steeds, all preparations complete.
An army composed of the tribe's elite warriors had assembled, a blade honed to a razor's edge. They awaited only their Dragon Lord's command to shoot forth like arrows from a bow, their first strike aimed straight at the border of the Sierre Wilderness.
Meanwhile...
Deep within the fourth level of the Burning Steel Citadel, the red-iron dragon gazed silently at an object held in his massive claw.
"What a magnificent creation... Truly a crowning jewel of alchemical industry. Only the colossal power of a kingdom-tier industrial base could forge such a crystal."
Cradled in Garos's colossal paw—a claw capable of crushing stone—lay a colorless crystal. It was roughly the size of a human head, so transparent and pure it seemed like frozen air.
As the angle shifted slightly, liquid light seemed to flow within it, refracting the colors of its surroundings.
The crystal formed a breathtakingly perfect cube. Every edge and every straight line was so precise it seemed measured and cut by the hand of a god. To the mortal eye, not a single flaw or imperfection could be found; it was a flawless union of geometry and energy.
—Black oil crystals.
Under Garos's direction and arrangement, the Gemstone Merchant Guild, subordinate to the Ignis Dragon Clan, successfully received this crucial gesture of sincerity, secretly sent by Princess Eileen at the designated location.
The priceless crystals, containing terrifying energy, were carefully packed into specially-made containers and transported downstream along the eternally rushing Estonian Great River.
They were escorted by a covert team of elite guards, eventually arriving safely and silently at Garos's Burning Steel Citadel, where they were solemnly placed into Garos's claws.
Ordinary people might find it hard to imagine.
The raw black oil—viscous as ink, foul as melted asphalt, and emitting a pungent stench—underwent countless, maddeningly complex processes of refining, purification, compression, and solidification in a kingdom-tier Alchemical Workshop. The resulting essence core was an incredibly pure and transparent crystal, resembling the world's finest, most flawless natural gemstone, radiating an extraordinary beauty.
However, when Garos opened his dragon's maw, preparing to swallow it...
A curious phenomenon occurred.
His innate draconic desire to possess wealth and treasure did not stir in the slightest for this object.
Perhaps it was because the black oil crystals were cutting-edge products of modern alchemy, rather than traditional gold and silver treasures. Thus, dragonkind's innate, insatiable greed for ancient hoards was not triggered by them.
This meant something profoundly important.
As long as the stockpile of black oil crystals was vast enough, Garos could devour them all without any psychological resistance, transforming them into pure fuel to propel his life grade to the next level.
He hesitated for a moment, then finally moved the crystal away from his lips.
I will devour this batch right before entering the deep slumber for evolution, Garos calculated coolly. That will maximize the effect.
His evolution did not arise from nothing; it required energy. Furthermore, advancing his life grade depended on a continuous energy supply. The more rare treasures a dragon consumed in a single feast before its slumber, the higher the probability of a successful life grade increase.
After stowing the crystals away, the red-iron dragon rose to his feet and strode out.
It was high noon. The fierce sunlight poured down, bathing the magnificent Burning Steel Citadel in a brilliant glow. The steel fortress seemed to be roaring with flames, truly living up to its name.
The red-iron dragon strode onto the vast observation deck.
His deep gaze pierced through the fortress's shadow, fixing upon the boundless horizon of the Sierre Wilderness to the south, where the earth met the sky.
On this seemingly ordinary, peaceful afternoon, Garos lifted his heavily scaled head and issued a command through the bloodline link.
"Solgorn, Samantha."
"The time has come to reclaim our lost lands."
"Pass the word: we march on the Sierre Wilderness. Our first target is the Scaly Earth Rift Road!"
After a brief silence, two responses echoed in Garos's mind.
The Iron Dragon, Solgorn, spoke with a calm that barely contained his excitement. "As you command, my dear brother. The warriors are ready. We march at once."
The Red Dragon, Samantha, simply roared.
"ROAARRR!!! All who stand in our way will be reduced to ash!!!"
After more than a decade in exile from the Sierre Wilderness, the Ignis Dragon Clan, their wings now fully grown, was about to return. They would unleash their long-sharpened fangs and claws to tear through the skies and lands that had once been theirs, reclaiming everything they had lost.
(End of the Chapter)
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