A Dragon against the Whole World

"No corpses."

Galos’s gaze swept across the remains of the golem, finding no traces of flesh and blood.

"It’s unreasonable."

"It took a direct hit from my Destructive Dragon Breath, how did that Goblin Alchemist survive? And where did his body go?"

The Red Iron Dragon lightly flicked its tail, pondering internally.

The Great Workshop Master was indeed formidable, but that couldn’t change the fact that he was an Alchemist, fragile, and without the defense of a golem, he was no match for Galos.

"I saw it clearly, he was engulfed by my Destructive Dragon Breath."

"And this Alchemy Giant Statue... I nearly disassembled it completely, but found no traces of a cockpit."

The Alchemy Giant Statue that rose from the ruins seemed not to be the Mechanical Golem mostly used by the goblins, but an Intelligent Golem that could operate without a pilot.

"The leader of the Golden Tooth Tribe, something’s not right."

Galos looked at the battlefield, where the scales of victory had already tipped: "Never mind, once this battle is over, we will march directly to the Golden Tooth Headquarters in the Southeast Black Iron Plain. No matter what, the Goblin Leader’s condition can’t affect the result."

The Golden Tooth Tribe was very strong.

Or rather, all four tribes of the Border Area were not weak.

Though they were called tribes, it was due to the backwardness of the barren regions. Many primitive and ignorant remnants existed within the clans, but in terms of combat power alone, their comprehensive level was comparable to small city-states.

However, no matter how they once were.

When the Alchemy Corps was annihilated, the Golden Tooth Tribe would become a thing of the past.

Galos did not participate in the subsequent cleanup operation. He hovered in the sky, gazing down at the scorched earth and flames below. His massive Dragon Wings overshadowed the ground, providing the followers with endless morale.

"Kill——!"

The ogres swung their wolf fang clubs covered in flesh and blood fragments, flattening the goblins who tried to flee or resist, along with their crude armor. Laughter and the sound of bones breaking intertwined.

Two-legged Flying Dragons hovered at low altitude, showering acid like water, creating corrosive zones with white smoke amongst the goblin deserters.

Giant Wolves let out bloodthirsty howls, transforming into deadly gray shadows, darting and leaping through the scattering enemy crowd. Each swipe of their claws brought forth a spray of warm blood, precisely severing goblins’ throats or tearing open their chests.

......

The True Dragon was like a moving cataclysm, plowing through the battlefield’s edge, eradicating any large groups of goblins attempting to gather or flee.

This was a completely one-sided massacre.

The iron jungle became a mill of flesh, where previously mighty Alchemy Golems were now twisted scrap, burned by flames, corroded by acid, and trampled by giant strength.

The goblins’ wails, pleas, and curses rose and fell.

But soon were drowned in the roar of weapons and the sound of flesh being torn.

Even the sunlight seemed tainted by the heavy scent of blood, the wind swirling with smoke and ashes, carrying with it the pungent odor of iron, burnt stench, and the breath of death.

The Molten Iron Tribe’s warriors were clearing out the last resistance.

Soon, all resisting enemies were killed, leaving only those who threw down their weapons and surrendered, crawling on the ground.

The thunderous roars gradually subsided, replaced by the victorious howls and heavy panting, and as the battle calmed, fatigue washed over every creature like a tide, but their eyes burned with fervent flames.

They won! The Molten Iron Tribe had taken a significant step towards becoming the King of the Borderland!

The era belonging to the Molten Iron Tribe would commence with smoke and blood!

Galos noticed the exhilarated warriors.

Now was the perfect time to strengthen the tribe’s cohesion.

"Where the Dragon Wings reach——"

The Red Iron Dragon spoke, a deep and majestic voice spreading across the battlefield like rolling thunder: "——all is the king’s land!"

Such an arrogant and flamboyant declaration, Galos usually wouldn’t say, but there was no one else here, only his own people. A boastful remark for his own vanity wouldn’t hurt.

Of course, the most crucial thing was that it made the Molten Iron Tribe more cohesive and loyal.

Everything else was incidental.

After a moment of stasis.

Roar——!!!

Dragon roars, beastly howls, the neighing of centaurs, the screeches of flying dragons... all sounds converged into a torrent declaring victory and power, soaring to the sky.

"Rest here, the war is not yet over, we are just a step away from complete victory."

The command was given, and the creatures, weary after the fierce battle, began to rest where they stood.

Injured? Unless it’s a limb that’s been severed, it’s just a minor wound. Just plug it with dirt to stop the bleeding, then get a Warlock Shaman’s healing spell to be alive and kicking again.

Hungry?

The ground is full of food.

Goblins, delicious!

...... The Molten Iron Tribe’s warriors had minimal requirements for logistics.

Meanwhile, in the Southwest, Dragon Valley.

A group of Snakefolk gradually appeared on the horizon, approaching Dragon Valley.

They had serpent-like lower bodies with humanoid torsos, the males were strong and muscular, with fierce and vicious features, while the females were beautiful and alluring, with faces almost as exquisite as those of elves.

"Here it is, the Dragon Race’s lair."

"The Molten Iron Tribe’s dragon is leading the monsters in battle with the golden-toothed goblins."

"We’ve signed a magic contract with the goblins and cannot strike against them, but the rear of the Molten Iron Tribe is vacant, presenting a great opportunity for us."

The Snakefolk leader hissed, sticking out his tongue.

The Poison Tail Tribe of Snakefolk mainly resides in the northeast border area, adjacent to the Golden Tooth Tribe.

Due to resources ceded by the Golden Tooth Tribe, they signed a magic contract to restrain their mutual conflicts, but the Snakefolk of the Poison Tail Tribe never gave up monitoring the moves of the Golden Tooth Tribe.

The large-scale mobilization of the Alchemy Corps did not escape their notice.

The Snakefolk quickly understood what had transpired.

They believed that the Molten Iron Tribe was no match for the Golden Tooth Tribe, and although they had a non-aggression pact with the Golden Tooth Tribe, they had none with the Molten Iron Tribe.

Therefore.

The Snakefolk Tribe decided swiftly to take advantage of the full-scale war between the Golden Tooth Tribe and the Molten Iron Tribe to launch a sneak attack on the rear of the Molten Iron Tribe and seize the fruits of victory.

Now, the elite of the Poison Tail Tribe had arrived at Dragon Valley.

The Snakefolk twisted their waists, silently and stealthily approaching.

As they drew within a certain distance of Dragon Valley, a thunderous roar suddenly echoed through the defensible and hard-to-attack entrance passage of the valley.

Roar—!

A white shadow leaped out.

A fierce tiger, eyes glaring intently, precisely fixed its gaze on the Snakefolk. It crouched slightly, muscles bulging beneath its fur, claws already tearing the ground, ready to launch an attack at any moment.

The formidable fierce white tiger startled the Snakefolk.

Immediately, a gust of wind swept by, and another figure soared skyward, its whole body covered in dragon scales that shimmered with a copper and silver interwoven hue under the sunlight.

Deborah, the Red Copper Dragon, elegantly folded its wings and landed on the top of a cliff to one side.

"Hey, Snakefolk."

"It’s riddle time now."

The Red Silver Dragon slightly raised its head, overlooking the Snakefolk, and with a light, humorous tone, said, "Hurt one scale of mine, bring my whole family along, the most united avenger, guess who it is?

Upon hearing this, the Snakefolk fell silent.

"Metal Dragon."

A Snake-man Mage leader replied.

"Correct answer! As a reward, I allow you to return the way you came."

The Red Silver Dragon said with a playful smile.

The Snakefolk leader said nothing, quickly leading the troops away from Dragon Valley.

As if the front was not their target but a forbidden zone of death.

On the way back, a young warrior, unwilling to retreat, asked the seasoned leader, "We sneaked all the way here after such a long journey, why leave so abruptly?"

The old Snake-man Shaman’s eyes narrowed into slits.

"In the Border Area, the strong will not die, the weak have a chance to survive, only the short-sighted and arrogant fools die without remorse." He chided in a hoarse voice, "Do you want to bring destruction to the tribe by confronting the Metal Dragon? That dragon’s riddle wasn’t spoken casually."

As he spoke, doubts lingered in the Shaman’s heart.

Intelligence indicated that the ruler here was an Evil Dragon without background, but why did a mixed-blood Metal Dragon appear?

Without delving into unsolvable questions, the Snakefolk retreated from whence they came, though their hearts were not at ease.

"Snakefolk? Probably the Poison Tail Tribe, hmm, I see."

Galos put away the Communication Stone, having understood the events in Dragon Valley after a brief conversation with the Red Silver Dragon.

He wasn’t too surprised.

The Border Area was not a land of one tribe; it’s only natural that the noise of war between the Molten Iron Tribe and the Golden Tooth Tribe drew the attention of others, and other tribes trying to fish in troubled waters was equally normal.

Positioning the powerful fierce tiger and the Red Silver Dragon in Dragon Valley.

The fierce tiger was secondary; the key was leveraging the Red Silver Dragon’s presence to amplify his influence, like a fox borrowing the tiger’s might. Galos didn’t need the Red Silver Dragon to truly fight for him; just her appearance was enough.

"After concluding the war with the Golden Tooth Tribe, reward her with an afternoon of riddle time."

Galos planned in his heart that the Red Silver Dragon’s favorability needed further nurturing.

As the Molten Iron Tribe gradually grew, it could acquire more resources on one hand, but on the other, continued reclusiveness wasn’t realistic, and sooner or later they would appear in the vision of the Mature Silver Dragon.

Not to mention gaining the Mature Silver Dragon’s support.

At the very least, they needed to avoid inciting its hostility.

Galos did not become arrogant over one or two victories, understanding clearly the necessity of treating matters related to mature dragons cautiously.

—except for White Scales... excluding the White Dragon.

After resting for most of the day.

The resilient Molten Iron Warriors marched again, heading towards the Black Iron Plain.

This time it was no longer multi-front combat but a piercing strike, cutting through all obstacles, proceeding unimpeded all the way to the Black Iron Plain, reaching the Golden Teeth Headquarters.