The vast, boundless night sky was like a heavy, ink-colored velvet blanket, hanging low and shrouding the earth.
Under the guidance and protection of the Dragon Group, the Molten Iron Legion had already crossed the blurred boundary line, boldly stepping onto the vast territory belonging to the lion pride.
On the other side.
The lion pride, composed of all sorts of ferocious and hideous Vicious Beasts and monsters, did not set up rigorous sentry towers like human armies within their vast territory.
However, this land was not undefended.
Countless lion beasts, as lithe as the wind and as swift as lightning, were given a special mission.
Their task was not to hold a single location, but to act as mobile sentries, cruising the outer edges of the territory.
When the shadow of an approaching enemy drew near, these sentries would tilt their heads to the sky and let out deafening roars that pierced the night, sending warning signals of descending danger to the entire lion territory.
And so.
Between the vast wilderness and rolling hills that the lion pride regarded as their private domain.
Roars filled with terror or high alertness rose and fell, rapidly spreading in circles from near to far, like surging waves echoing endlessly under the silent night, breaking the stillness of the dark.
Those members of the lion pride who were originally strolling leisurely or proudly patrolling their own lands.
When they caught sight of the Molten Iron Legion coming like a torrent, trampling the night, their once invincible and fierce posture instantly collapsed.
They often only dared to instinctively bare their sharp, snow-white fangs from a relatively safe distance, squeezing out low hisses from deep in their throats that were full of threats yet unable to hide their fear.
However, they did not dare to actually approach the target under any circumstances.
Especially when they noticed the dragon shadows circling under the low-hanging night sky, the fear originating from the depths of their Bloodline instantly overwhelmed their territorial sense and ferocity; they dared not face the Dragon Group's edge directly.
The lions subconsciously retreated one after another, and the low growls in their throats took on a clear note of shrinking back.
At this moment, they no longer possessed the ferocity and arrogance they had when actively attacking the Molten Iron territory.
With the unwavering advance of the Molten Iron Legion, the lion pride could only retreat step by step, helplessly, toward the rear.
The powerless lion pride watched as the Iron Hoofs of the Molten Iron Tribe trampled their territory, but they were helpless against it, only able to let out blustering low roars.
For every inch the Molten Iron Legion advanced, the lion pride was forced to retreat an inch.
Finally.
As time passed unhurriedly, the deep night was gradually replaced by a layer of hazy gray light.
However, the sun that could dispel the gloom did not arrive as scheduled.
The sky still presented an unsettlingly dull and dark gray tone.
Dense dark clouds gathered from all directions, pressing low on the horizon; the humidity in the air rose significantly, carrying the scent of earth and withered grass, along with the thick feeling of an impending mountain storm.
A torrential rain was quietly brewing between heaven and earth, seemingly ready to pour down at any moment.
Climate change, and the Borderlands which had almost become part of the ice fields, also had an impact on the Serre Wilderness, making the rainy season in this land—originally known for being dry and hot—more frequent and persistent than before.
Just then.
Under the dark and oppressive canopy, in the distance, a rift valley that looked like a high mountain split down the middle by a divine giant axe began to loom on the horizon, revealing its rough outline.
Echo Rift Valley, the nest and territory where the Lion King resided.
The Molten Iron Legion's goal was clear, steadily advancing toward the rift valley, gradually approaching this natural chokepoint.
Shortly after, the steep rock walls of the rift valley became increasingly clear.
And before the rift valley, on the relatively open Alluvial Plain, the sight was chilling.
Countless lion beasts of various types and fierce appearances were lined up densely as if being reviewed, standing ready for battle.
They pawed the ground restlessly, their low roars merging into an oppressive ocean of sound.
Facing a large-scale enemy force that had already reached their doorstep, the previous scattered harassment and guerrilla tactics lost all meaning.
Therefore, to counter the advancing Molten Iron Legion, the lion pride scattered throughout the territory answered their leader's call, all converging before the Echo Rift Valley, preparing for a final decisive battle here with the Molten Iron Legion.
At this very moment.
The heavy breathing of Vicious Beasts and the sharp low growls of monsters were tightly interwoven, like countless muffled thunders rolling, brewing, and spreading deep beneath the surface! Forming a continuous wave of acoustic pressure.
Roar—!
Suddenly, a massive roar, far more majestic and resonant than any previous roar, like a thunderclap on flat ground, exploded violently from the top of the highest cliff of the Echo Rift Valley.
It contained an invisible yet powerful pressure that swept across the entire lion pride like liquid silver spilling on the ground.
In an instant, the commotion, restlessness, and unease of the lion pride caused by the pressing powerful enemy vanished almost simultaneously; the mental state of all lion beasts became steady and murderous at a visible speed, and a fierce light reignited in their eyes.
"Psionic power?"
Iron Dragon Sorog's pupils contracted slightly.
From that unique roar, he caught a fluctuation of power that he was very familiar with.
Psionic power.
And in terms of refinement, it seemed to exceed his own.
The Red Iron Dragon's expression did not change much; he merely lowered his eyes slightly, looking down at the source of the roar.
Under his gaze, an extremely oppressive figure of a giant lion slowly appeared on a massive hawk-beak rock at the highest point of the rift valley.
Its gaze was like two literal bolts of lightning, piercing sharply toward the Dragon Group in the sky.
Its size was unimaginably huge, even a circle larger than an ordinary young Red Dragon, and its entire body radiated intense reactions of Magical Power and psionic power.
The mane around its neck was exceptionally thick and magnificent, surrounding it like an emperor's cloak.
But that was not real hair.
It was a ring of raging, leaping purple flames; the purple flame mane fluttered and danced as if it had a life of its own, adding much to the giant lion's majesty.
It had wings on both sides of its back, and its body surface was not just fur; many scales resembling amethysts were faintly visible, embedded in key parts.
Starting from its forehead and running all the way down its back to the tailbone, thumb-sized purple crystals floated a few inches away from its body, suspended in mid-air, rising and falling slowly with its breathing and heartbeat as if they possessed life.
Most importantly.
Its gaze was deep, without any obvious signs of cruelty or violence; instead, it gave off the feeling of an intelligent being, brimming with shining psionic light.
At this moment, the biological features and appearance of this [Amethyst Winged Lion King] were fully reflected in Galos's vision.
He flared his nostrils slightly, while simultaneously catching a trace of unusual Dragon aura in the air.
"This Lion King is a hybrid descendant born from the mating of an Amethyst Dragon and some powerful Vicious Beast or monster."
Galos stared at the Lion King on the cliff, lost in thought.
He quickly searched his own dragons legacy but could not find a record of a biological race that perfectly corresponded to the Lion King before him; however, if its prominent features were taken individually, corresponding biological descriptions could be found in the Legacy.
"Amethyst Dragonkin. Truly unexpected; I didn't think I'd encounter a powerful descendant of the Amethyst Dragon Bloodline here."
Beside him, Iron Dragon Sorog's eyes also flashed with a hint of surprise: "Could it be that deep within the Serre Wilderness, there are actual Amethyst Dragons hidden? I've never heard of that."
Amethyst Dragons, the crown jewels of the Gem Dragon race.
Five-Color Dragons, Metallic Dragons, and Gem Dragons. These three major dragon types were often mentioned together by Mortal species.
However, unlike the Five-Color Dragons and Metallic Dragons, which had many branches and were spread throughout the Material Plane, Gem Dragons were extremely rare in the Material Plane, with the vast majority residing in other exotic planes.
All Gem Dragons were natural Psions, possessing powerful talents for manipulating the mind and psionic energy.
Amethyst Dragons were the recognized leaders of the Gem Dragons, the head of the Gem Dragons.
Their status was roughly equivalent to the Red Dragons among the Five-Color Dragons and the Gold Dragons among the Metallic Dragons.
The signature floating amethysts and the pure, powerful psionic fluctuations on the Lion King were highly consistent with the characteristics of Amethyst Dragons recorded in the dragons legacy.
Seeing the specific image of the Lion King and feeling its aura, the Dragon Group could confirm its identity as dragonkin.
"Galos, the possibility of absorbing this dragonkin Lion King into our tribe is much higher than expected."
Sorog looked at the Red Iron Dragon beside him and spoke his judgment in a low voice.
Galos nodded slightly, holding the same thought in his heart.
Wild dragonkin were creatures with rather contradictory inner natures.
On one hand, when they encountered pure-blooded dragons whose life level was weaker than their own.
In order to increase the concentration and purity of their own dragon Bloodline, the greedy instinct originating from the depths of their blood would be strongly triggered, prompting them to have the terrible thought of killing the dragon and devouring its flesh and blood essence.
On the other hand, when they faced pure-blooded true dragons whose life level surpassed their own and whose power was enough to crush them.
The deep-rooted instinct in the dragonkin Bloodline to follow a stronger true dragon would be activated, producing a near-instinctive 'ancestral recognition' thought, with a strong urge to seek protection and recognition.
"Halt!"
The dragon issued a concise and majestic command, and the steadily advancing Molten Iron Legion stopped their pace in unison, facing the array composed of countless lion beasts from a distance.
The murderous atmosphere instantly climbed to its peak.
A suffocating dead silence permeated between the two armies, with only the sound of the wind wailing.
The Red Iron Dragon circled slowly in the sky, while the Amethyst Lion King stood atop the rift valley.
The gazes of the two met in the air, and invisible auras clashed violently between the two Map Kings, suppressing each other.
"Giant lion with the dragon Bloodline flowing within you."
The Red Iron Dragon's low voice was like rolling thunder, drowning out the wind and spreading across the battlefield: "Submit beneath my wings and pay the price of loyalty for your previous reckless provocation; in doing so, I shall grant forgiveness and bestow upon you the glory of living under the protection of dragon wings."
Hearing this, the Amethyst Winged Lion King took a step forward.
Its giant claw, covered in crystal scales, stepped on a protruding sharp rock as it looked up at the Red Iron Dragon circling in the sky.
It did not speak immediately, but only let out a low lion roar containing psionic energy.
When this roar entered Galos's ears, the intent it contained was naturally understood.
[Giant dragon circling in the sky, offer your loyalty and submit beneath my claws and purple flames! Swear allegiance to the roar of the lion pride; in doing so, I shall generously forgive your current offense and ignorance.]
This was almost a complete return of the words Galos had just spoken, verbatim.
Clearly, this Amethyst Winged Lion King did not believe it was weaker than the few giant dragons circling before it at all.
Compared to direct submission, the Bloodline within it—a mix of dragon pride and lion wildness—craved to challenge the authority of the dragons and prove who the true king of this land was.
Dragonkin certainly had the instinct for 'ancestral recognition,' but they also possessed the instinct to prove themselves through 'patricide.'
After receiving this provocative response from the Amethyst Lion King, Galos did not become angry because of the offense.
On the contrary, the Red Iron Dragon's mouth curled up slightly, pulling into a somewhat hideous yet pleased smile.
A simple surrender and allegiance without shedding a drop of blood?
That would be far too boring, far too cheap.
Facing a powerful, proud, and confident enemy, Galos preferred to use the most direct and intense clash of scales and claws, the confrontation of power and flesh, to ultimately and thoroughly conquer and crush them before bringing them under his command.
The prouder, more confident, and more powerful the Lion King appeared now.
When it was finally forced to bow its proud head and let out a whimper of submission, the pleasure and satisfaction of conquest Galos would gain would be like the most mellow wine, intense to the extreme.
—This was one of Galos's few hobbies.
"Very well, I shall thoroughly enjoy your current rebellious posture!"
The Red Iron Dragon looked down at the earth and said to the Amethyst Lion King.
As the words fell, he suddenly spread his massive wings and issued a heaven-shaking attack command to the Molten Iron Legion waiting below