"This will be the first time the Dragon Group officially reveals our true fangs to the wilderness."
Galos slowly circled high in the sky, his head lowered, overlooking the creatures fighting for him below.
His soldiers, his kin, were pouring out of various meticulously constructed strongholds deep within the wilderness.
Initially, they were scattered trickles, but as time passed, these trickles began to converge, collide, and merge.
The clang of armor, the dull thud of heavy footsteps on the ground, the low battle roars, and the shrieks of monsters intertwined into a suppressed ocean of sound, ultimately forming a vast and ferocious army that swept through the wilderness with an unstoppable momentum, surging towards Quenching Highlands.
Quenching Highlands, the target this time, was undoubtedly a tough nut to crack.
For decades, Raymond Duchy had spared no expense to transform it into the most solid nail in the Serre Wilderness. Its terrain was treacherous, with three sides as steep as if carved, leaving only one side for an army to deploy, making it extremely easy to defend and difficult to attack.
Raymond Duchy had amassed heavy troops here.
Excellent alchemical equipment, well-trained soldiers, and powerful city defense weapons... formed a formidable fortress.
Of course, with the current strength of the Molten Iron Tribe, it would not be difficult to conquer it if they were willing to pay a certain price.
But even so, Galos still decided to act personally.
Logically, a Tribe Leader like him should be like a sharp blade hidden in its sheath, never moving lightly unless it was a matter of life and death or a decisive moment.
Prematurely exposing his trump cards and combat style was tantamount to revealing his weaknesses.
This would give potential enemies an opportunity to analyze and target him.
However, Galos had his own considerations.
On the one hand, for him, who had taken up the role of a Martial Dragon, the growth efficiency brought by intense combat was higher than that of daily training.
The battlefield changed rapidly, and various attacks could also temper and refine him, allowing him to adapt and improve various resistances.
On the other hand, he possessed multiple distinct combat forms and trump cards.
Appropriately exposing some conventional skills, such as the characteristics of a certain breath attack, a certain special combat technique, or even a seemingly powerful defensive stance, could instead confuse and mislead opponents, preventing them from understanding his true capabilities.
For Galos, the only thing that needed strict secrecy at the moment was the existence of the dragon jade.
This second life provided Galos with unparalleled fault tolerance.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
High above the sky, the violent air currents stirred up by the soaring dragons constantly agitated the clouds, subtly revealing their massive and majestic figures.
Their huge wings, spread beneath the firmament, were like battle flags fluttering in the wind, giving infinite confidence and courage to the tens of thousands of kin marching on the ground below.
Iron Dragon Sorog, Red Dragon Samantha, Blue Dragon Heliam, Red Dragon Kahir.
In addition to Galos, these four dragons would also participate in this battle.
They were Galos's claws, the fangs of the Molten Iron Tribe.
Tonight, they would jointly and formally declare the existence and power of the Molten Iron Tribe to this harsh wilderness.
This war against Quenching Highlands was far more significant than merely seizing a strategic location; it would be the Tribe's war to establish its authority, requiring a thorough, undeniable victory! Only then could it greatly boost the morale of the entire army and lay the foundation for subsequent, more intense, and broader wars and expansion.
As for Black Dragon Seraphina and Green Dragon Ludwig, the former was more adept at necromancy and combat in negative energy environments, while the latter excelled in communication and the life domain.
Neither was an optimal choice for a direct frontal assault.
They did not participate in this battle to reclaim Quenching Highlands, but they also bore important tasks, currently clearing and transforming the captured undead lair in another secret location, striving to turn it into the core site for the Dragonforged transformation ritual, making it another important base for the Molten Iron Tribe.
"Quenching Highlands is not that far from our Creekwood Territory base camp."
Iron Dragon Sorog's voice echoed in Galos's mind through their mental link: "At our army's current normal marching speed, it won't take long. We are expected to reach the attack launch position in the dead of night a few days from now."
He paused slightly, then added another important piece of information: "Also, Gordon has sent back news."
"Crystal Princess Elena has clearly stated that she will generously invest in our operation and will provide us with additional support in her own way."
At the same time, the Red Iron Dragon's mouth curved into a near-smile.
He gazed into the distance, his low voice like rolling thunder across the sky:
"In short, let the coming night burn."
Subsequently, the Dragon Group soared and patrolled unhurriedly in the darkening sky, and beneath their huge dragon wings, the Molten Iron Tribe's kin army advanced steadily and majestically across the land like a tide.
Time, in the grim and solemn atmosphere, passed by minute by minute.
A few days later, late at night.
Quenching Highlands.
The night air here was biting, carrying a metallic, rusty smell, hard as iron.
Moonlight pierced through the low-hanging clouds, casting its glow upon the massive city walls, constructed from huge granite blocks and cast steel, reflecting a faint and hazy metallic sheen on their surface.
This fortress, strategically located in the northwest of the Serre Wilderness, was initially just a small outpost occupied by Raymond Duchy when the Molten Iron Tribe withdrew.
But after decades of continuous expansion and reinforcement.
It became the hardest nail Raymond Duchy had driven into this wild land.
The city walls surrounding the stronghold were thirty meters high, their surfaces covered with sharp metal barbs and energy conduction patterns.
Every hundred meters, a projecting bastion was equipped with astonishingly large-caliber magic crystal cannons, their deep blue energy cores slowly rotating within the barrels, like the hearts of slumbering behemoths.
On the city walls were soldiers clad in standardized alchemical armor.
Their armor joints were embedded with miniature weight-reduction magic arrays, yet their footsteps were heavy as iron, clanging on the ground as they patrolled. Only cold, vigilant eyes were visible beneath their thick helmets, scanning the wilderness outside the highlands from above.
On the highest watchtower of the central main fort, a particularly tall and burly human figure stood like a statue by the railing.
His face was sharply chiseled, as if carved by knife and axe, his beard meticulously trimmed, and his armor was covered in battle scars of varying depths, testifying to his merits.
Particularly striking was:
On the back of his hand, resting on the sword hilt, was a crown pattern formed by countless tiny oaths woven together.
Hamilton — Ironwall General, the supreme commander of the Quenching Highlands stronghold.
This stronghold was currently Raymond Duchy's largest and most heavily defended core stronghold within the Serre Wilderness. As a powerful Paladin who had taken the Sacred Oath, vowing to defend the monarchy and homeland with his life and to be loyal to the king and law, this Ironwall General was also the strongest individual stationed by Raymond Duchy within the wilderness, bar none.
He rested one hand on the cold steel railing, the other steadily on the hilt of the sword at his waist.
As always, like countless nights before, he personally stood at the highest point of the city wall, guarding and keeping watch, his gaze like the keenest falcon, cast towards the dark horizon in the distance that seemed to swallow all light, searching for any sign of danger.
"Report, General Sir!"
An adjutant scurried forward, his steps hurried but not panicked.
His expression was serious, and his voice, strained, sounded somewhat low: "Outer outposts six and seven failed to report on time within the stipulated period. They are now confirmed to have lost contact."
The adjutant took a deep breath, his pace quickening.
"The communication crystal, in its last moments before losing contact, experienced extremely strong unknown interference. The fragmented footage barely transmitted back was distorted and blurry, and the sound was a sharp, piercing noise... But based on comprehensive analysis, it can be confirmed that a large-scale enemy force is rapidly approaching!"
Upon hearing the adjutant's report, Hamilton's eyelids twitched almost imperceptibly, but there was no extra expression on his sharply chiseled face, only the cold hardness of rock.
The adjutant lowered his voice, cautiously speculating: "Based on past experience, it could be a large-scale beast tide eruption, or perhaps some irrational, frenzied Monster Clans from the wilderness impacting us during their migration."
The Ironwall General's gaze remained fixed on the deep darkness in the distance, and he slowly shook his head.
"The beast tide and the mindless Monster Clans do not possess the means to interfere with our communication crystals."
His voice was steady, yet carried a hint of solemnity: "The attackers this time are a more dangerous, more organized enemy."
The Serre Wilderness has never lacked danger; powerful fierce beasts and demonic creatures emerge endlessly, and the Quenching Highlands outpost has not encountered an attack for the first time.
However.
This was the first time that communication crystals had been subjected to such effective and widespread interference.
This meant one thing: the attackers were by no means savage creatures acting on instinct, but intelligent adversaries who had made thorough preparations.
This attack was very likely a premeditated operation.
Hamilton's thoughts raced like lightning.
Three seconds later, he gazed at the deep dark night, which seemed to harbor endless danger, and gave a low command, his voice not loud but clearly reaching his adjutant's ears: "Pass down the order, initiate Level One combat alert! Immediately!"
The adjutant was slightly stunned by the words, a clear hint of surprise flashing across his face.
He hadn't expected the General's reaction to be so intense.
Level One combat alert? This was the highest level of mobilization, meaning the outpost would enter a state of full-scale war, with all resources and all personnel prioritized for defensive operations.
Although filled with questions, the absolute obedience and trust that had formed over a long time made the adjutant salute without any hesitation: "Yes, General!"
He then turned and hurried towards the command room.
Following this, a series of orders representing the highest alert level were rapidly relayed down from the top of the highlands.
All soldiers on rotation and resting were urgently assembled, re-donning their heavy armor, grabbing their weapons, and rushing to their respective battle stations, with the clanging of metal, hurried footsteps, and the short shouts of officers blending into a cacophony.
All alchemical golems in standby were activated, their engines emitting a low rumble, as they moved towards their pre-set defensive nodes, their heavy footsteps causing the ground to tremble slightly.
All magic crystal turrets on the bastions began to charge, a faint blue energy glow converging at the muzzles, emitting a heart-pounding fluctuation, like the eyes of giant beasts opening, staring fixedly at the unknown darkness in the distance.
The number of defenders on the city walls visibly doubled.
The soldiers gripped enchanted crossbows or various weapons, their bodies tense, breathing heavy, their eyes under their helmets filled with tension and resolve.
The entire highlands outpost was like a steel behemoth thoroughly awakened, its muscles tensed, standing ready for battle.
At the same time, one piece of worse news after another arrived in quick succession.
"Report! Fifth outpost confirmed lost contact!"
"Report! Fourth outpost confirmed lost contact!"
...The air inside the outpost seemed to solidify; each message brought by a messenger intensified this suffocating sense of dread.
The messenger's voice even began to tremble uncontrollably.
Although no one had yet clearly seen the specific appearance of the attacking enemy, the constant bad news about the fall of the outer outposts, arriving at regular intervals, brought an invisible psychological pressure.
It was as if an unseen, terrifying giant beast was lurking in the thick, impenetrable darkness, silently moving its steps, gradually revealing its ferocious claws and fangs, approaching the Quenching Highlands step by step, ready to devour its prey.
"General, do we need to dispatch a quick-response unit to attempt an sally, to support the outer outposts that might still be resisting?"
"Or at least... scout the enemy's situation?"
The adjutant tried to keep his voice calm, looking at the tall figure still standing like an iron tower at the edge of the city wall.
Ironwall General Hamilton didn't even turn his head, merely shaking it slightly.
"No."
He simply uttered a single word.
The enemy was coming fiercely, well-prepared.
The best strategy now was to consolidate all forces, firmly hold the core outpost, and absolutely not disperse valuable troops, giving the enemy a chance to defeat them one by one.
For now, those isolated and unsupported outer outposts had to be abandoned.
"Report! Third outpost... confirmed lost contact!"
New bad news quickly arrived.
Now, only the First and Second Outposts remained, directly adjacent to the main Quenching Highlands outpost, almost an extension of the main city wall.
This meant that the unknown enemy was practically at their doorstep.
After a suffocating silence.
In Hamilton's eyes, the pure and majestic light of Sacred Oath suddenly flared, his gaze becoming incredibly profound and sharp.
Sacred Oath spell — Super Vision Insight.
From above, the Paladin's substantial gaze pierced through the heavy curtain of night, like two searchlights, suddenly casting into the dark wilderness outside the highlands.
Instantly, his imposing body trembled violently, his pupils contracting sharply.
He saw them: countless armors glinting with metallic luster! Countless raised, grotesquely shaped alien weapons! Countless terrifying monsters exuding a bloodthirsty aura! Among them were even alchemical golems!
They were not scattered stragglers, but arranged in an oppressive formation.
They converged into an endless tide! This tide rolled, crushing shrubs along its path, toppling giant rocks that blocked the way, trampling hard earth into mud, heading directly for the Quenching Highlands, directly for the fortress beneath his feet, sweeping over them.
However, what shocked him most deeply was this.
In the high sky shrouded by the heavy night, he caught a fleeting glimpse of several colossal, leisurely circling silhouettes!
Those were the figures of giant dragons, and not just one!
The light in Hamilton's eyes gradually dimmed, returning to normal.
He took several deep, continuous breaths, allowing his heart, which had accelerated due to shock, to calm down.
Immediately after, he unhesitatingly pulled out an amulet from the lining of his close-fitting armor.
This was a high-level communication tool capable of ignoring most interference and directly transmitting messages to higher authorities.
"Dragon Group, leading their vassal legions, is about to arrive at the Quenching Highlands outpost; the scale of the attack is unprecedented, requesting support!"
Hamilton spoke quickly but clearly.
However, the communication amulet in his hand only flickered faintly once, then had no further reaction, failing to transmit the message as it usually would.
He was startled, tried to activate the amulet again, and even tried several emergency communication codes, but found that all means of communication seemed to be completely blocked and forbidden by an invisible force.
And it wasn't just his high-level amulet.
He tried other communication tools, then tried using others' tools, and was horrified to discover that all communication tools within the entire outpost had now failed.
"This... what is going on?!"
The Ironwall General, always known for his mountain-like steadiness and iron-like resolve, for the first time showed an uncontrollable expression of surprise and even a hint of dread on his face.
Encountering a large-scale monster attack, even if the enemy were giant dragons, he could accept it and prepare to fight to the death.
But all communication completely forbidden?
He couldn't imagine how the opponent had managed to do it.
Just as Ironwall General Hamilton was momentarily stunned by the communication blackout.
In the distant Lossern Royal Court, within a heavily guarded palace filled with precise magical instruments.
Crystal Princess Elena stood quietly before a celestial sphere.
Her gaze pierced through the obstruction of space, taking in the Quenching Highlands, at the center of the storm in the distant Serre Wilderness, clearly and completely, from an almost god-like, Overlooking perspective.
With the silent operation of the celestial sphere.
On the celestial orbit, a magical satellite belonging to the Lothorn Kingdom, its surface flashing with imperceptible magical light, isolated and blocked all communication between the Quenching Highlands and the outside world.
Compared to before, Elena's face had a few more wrinkles, but this did not detract from her beauty.
Because she was well-maintained and herself a high-level professional, her face remained exquisite, adorned with a faint smile.
She was not content to merely be a distant observer, watching the Dragon Group destroy targets belonging to the enemy kingdom's faction for her; therefore, she participated in this attack in her own way, giving her support to the Dragon Group.