Translator: AnubisTL
A misty rain curtain, like a vast gray veil, enveloped the Needleleaf Valley below.
Within the valley, needleleaf pines swayed gently in the wind and rain. Fine raindrops gathered on their deep green needles, coalesced, and slid down, tracing crystalline trails through the humid air.
Whoosh!
A sudden, violent gust of wind, carrying icy rain, roared through the valley, tearing open a brief, near-vacuum passage through the dense curtain of rain and violently shoving the downpour aside.
Above the mist-shrouded valley, the red-iron dragon, Garos, circled in the air. His massive, scale-armored body was a silhouette against the gray sky.
His head tilted slightly, his gaze lowered as if lost in memory.
After a moment's contemplation, Garos folded his wings and landed steadily on the steep peak of the valley's side. His sharp eyes pierced the rain curtain, slowly scanning every inch of the water-drenched land below.
Time is the world's most ruthless steel blade, capable of reducing countless once-mighty heroes to dust and eroding even the most glorious past into blurred legends.
Yet time, the ultimate healer, also soothed the wounds.
The valley, once scorched to a barren wasteland by the dragon's fiery breath in a desperate attempt to erase all traces, now thrived with lush vegetation after more than two decades of nurturing.
Covered anew by verdant growth, the valley exuded vitality under the gentle, persistent rain.
Garos' massive head turned slowly, carefully surveying the familiar yet altered landscape.
Though the chisel of time had left undeniable marks on the valley's details—trees taller or shifted from their original positions, the stream's course subtly altered—he could still recognize the cave where the earthstorm bear pack had once dwelled. He could faintly make out the clearing he had deliberately cleared for his secret training of the "little dragon."
"Twenty years..."
"I've finally set foot on this land again."
As Garos' gaze swept across the valley, he unexpectedly caught sight of a familiar massive stone slab—the place he had loved to curl up on as a child and youth, sleeping peacefully under the sun or starlight.
To his surprise, the stone slab had not crumbled after enduring more than twenty years of wind, rain, and snow. Instead, its surface was covered in slippery green moss and marked by several deep cracks.
Garos' heart stirred.
He blinked cautiously, confirming that no other creatures were watching, before slowly descending.
He attempted to twist his massive body, carefully tucking his limbs inward. His enormous frame gradually curled inward, molding himself completely against the slab that held his memories, leaving not a single gap.
Yet, to be honest, the cold, damp, and rigid sensation was a world away from the luxurious comfort of his Burning Steel Citadel dragon bed, piled high with dazzling treasures.
The sense of perfect fit and tranquility he remembered, no matter how he adjusted his posture, he could no longer recapture.
Crack—snap!
A faint but sharp crack interrupted his thoughts.
When he snapped back to attention and instinctively straightened his body, the ancient slab beneath him, unable to bear his current weight, which far surpassed his past self's, instantly shattered into a pile of moss-covered rubble.
Things had changed.
That slab of rock, which had once offered him comfort in his youth, could no longer bear even the weight of his body.
Garos shook his massive head slightly, a flicker of wistfulness passing through his eyes, but he lingered on it no longer.
He was now the lord of the Frontierlands, commanding four directions to bow before him. His chosen were as numerous as the trees in a forest, and dragonkind followed the spread of his wings. He was no longer that weak, pitiful little dragon struggling to survive in the wilderness.
He straightened his resilient body.
Countless raindrops struck his broad, heavy dragon body—as if forged from steel—shattering instantly into fine mist.
At that moment, the low murmur of Iron Dragon Solgorn arose from the depths of his heart.
The red-iron dragon nodded occasionally, then fell into brief contemplation.
Moments later, through Solgorn's mental transmission, he had a clear grasp of the turbulent changes that had swept through the Scaly Earth Rift Road over the past two decades.
"Creekwood Town... the Albert Family..."
Garos's gaze suddenly sharpened like a blade, as if it could pierce through the curtain of rain before him. Yet in an instant, that edge vanished into profound calm.
Viscount Ironthorn and his deadly dragon hunting group had once pushed Garos to the brink of despair, nearly burying him completely.
It was in that baptism of blood and fire that he awakened his own dragon qi.
He remembered it all clearly, every detail undimmed by time.
As for now?
Viscount Ironthorn himself had long since turned to dust in the wilderness.
Yet the Albert Family, sharing the same surname, had seized control of the Scaly Earth Rift Road.
Now, the Ironforged Tribe had reclaimed the land with thunderous force. The nobles dwelling in their opulent castles would soon receive the news.
Yet Garos felt no fear.
The Ironforged Tribe's overall strength might still be slightly inferior to the Duchy of Raymond as a whole.
But...
This vast, treacherous wilderness, teeming with resources, had never been the Duchy of Raymond's domain.
The duchy's core territories lay far from this remote region, making resupply efforts difficult. The duchy's forces in the wilderness were already stretched thin, and to make matters worse, many of their most skilled warriors and elite troops had been urgently redeployed to the southern heartlands to address the escalating secession crisis.
The remaining garrison forces were primarily tasked with guarding crucial resource outposts.
Unless explicit orders came from the duchy's highest authorities, they would never rashly divert troops to settle a private territorial dispute between nobles.
Under these circumstances, organizing a force to suppress the Ironforged Tribe—even just their vanguard—would be far beyond the capabilities of a single Earl family.
However, Garos, with his profound understanding of the nobles' greed, knew that once their core interests were threatened, they would never easily back down until they had suffered devastating losses and paid a heavy price.
Solgorn's voice echoed in his mind: "Creekwood Town, primarily inhabited by merchants and adventurers with a sprinkling of ordinary humans—should we keep it or destroy it?"
Garos's thoughts began to churn.
After a few seconds, he made his decision.
"Leave it for now."
The iron dragon responded with pleasure, "Very well. I will immediately declare Creekwood Town to be under full martial law. During this period, only personnel will be allowed to enter, and no one will be permitted to leave. Ludwig will be granted full authority over all management and security matters."
In Iron Dragon Solgorn's grand vision, as the Ironforged Tribe's territorial influence expanded, its familiars could not be limited solely to bloodthirsty, warlike monster races. Humans, dwarves, elves, and other sapient races would all become indispensable components of its future dominion.
Beings like humans, with their relatively high intelligence, complex social structures, greater productivity, and ease of systematic management, would inevitably become vital producers and builders within the Ironforged Tribe's territory.
Creekwood Town was the first moderately sized human settlement the Ironforged Tribe had taken over. Rather than completely leveling it to a scorched ruin, Solgorn preferred to preserve this existing settlement, carefully manage it, transform it, and develop it into a crucial human outpost and logistical base radiating into the surrounding areas.
"The Albert Family's counterattack will come swiftly."
"Yet humans remain prone to their usual arrogance and overconfidence. They remain blissfully ignorant of our true strength, and will be unable to stir up any significant waves."
"Every strategic location around the Scaly Earth Rift Road, both before and after its formation, has been secured by hidden sentries and elite scouts. Not a single one of their movements will escape our eyes."
Iron Dragon Solgorn's voice paused slightly.
"Garos, my dear brother, with such a grand return... shouldn't we do something to announce our triumphant comeback—the Ignis Dragons and the Ironforged Tribe—to this land and to those who have forgotten or scorned our existence?"
His voice carried a hint of excitement.
The red-iron dragon nodded slightly. "The federation's control over the wilderness is indeed weakening. But excessive displays of power would ultimately be unwise." He abruptly changed tack. "However, we do owe that generous Crystal Princess a 'firework' of sorts. It's time we repaid her with a precious token of gratitude."
Crystal Princess Eileen's support extended far beyond glittering treasures and resources.
Regardless of the true state of affairs within the federation, the Kingdom of Lothurn still served as its nominal leader.
Though Princess Eileen stood on the fringes of the royal court's power, she remained an immensely wealthy and respected princess with an intricate network of connections.
During their previous conversation, she had solemnly promised Garos that she would closely monitor developments in the Sierre Wilderness.
As long as the Ignis Dragon Clan didn't engage in any truly outrageous actions that challenged the federation's core principles, she would do her utmost to mediate and influence federal affairs, urging the federal garrison to turn a blind eye to the clan's presence.
This was the most crucial benefit of forming an alliance with the princess.
(End of the Chapter)
---------------------------
📖 You are reading [323] Chapters behind with [80] Free Chapters available on site.
🔥 Read up to Chapter [659] now, only on ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴛʟ.ᴄᴏᴍ.
📚 Read upto [13,700+] Chapters on Site with [10,800+] Free Chapters!
🎉 NEW BOOK LAUNCHED 🎉
Read [The Apocalypse Survival Supplier] on 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕠𝕟@𝔸𝕟𝕦𝕓𝕚𝕤𝕋𝕃 and 𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝕞
---------------------------