A Dragon against the Whole World

In her mind, she recalled the sensation of the Red Iron Dragon’s fiery claws brushing against her body. Her tail involuntarily twisted as she whispered.

"Not the right time now."

The Red Iron Dragon refused Deborah’s invitation to train, saying: "The battle situation is ever-changing. I need to stay focused. Let’s talk about it later."

"Alright."

Deborah said with a hint of disappointment, then ran to the other side to play a riddle game with Elf Dragon Vera.

The Red Iron Dragon settled in place, listening to discussions and the battle situation through the Bloodline Chain with the Ignatius Brothers, while silently adjusting its own condition in preparation for the upcoming battle.

Border Area, Black Stone Pass.

The sunset was blood-red, casting its crimson glow over the land.

Dogman Doug licked his sharp teeth, looking towards the heavily guarded pass ahead.

Behind Doug, the densely packed Molten Iron Army spread out on the plain before the pass.

The Jackal-Wolf Folk hunched over, their fur rising and falling with their breathing. The Kobolds anxiously clawed at the ground with short claws, their scales reflecting a greasy sheen under the sunlight. The towering Ogres wore heavy armor, their labored breathing like old bellows. On the outermost edge, the War Lizardfolk moved like shadows hugging the ground, while the Centaur Warriors uneasily pawed with their Ironhoofs, the faint yet piercing hum of taut bowstrings in the air.

"Can you smell it? The scent of fresh meat."

Doug raised his dragon-like head, a thunderous roar emanating from his mouth.

"Kids!"

"Tear open that passage! For the great Master of Red Wings, for the Molten Iron Tribe!"

After a brief pause, he unfurled his natural wings and shouted, "Attack!"

The next moment, like a breaking dam, the black tide rolled towards the pass amid the tremors of the ground.

The Jackal-Wolf Folk were the first wave to crash against the iron wall.

They ran on all fours, bursting with astonishing speed, their gaunt bodies stretching into black streaks in the sprint.

The Jackal-Wolf Folk sub-leader, "Yellow Fang" Lak, charged at the forefront, his claws almost sparking against the hard ground, closing in on the giant gate arranged by the Dawn Tribe in the middle of the pass.

Suddenly, a dull echo resonated from the cliff top.

Woo—Woo—

The deep sound of a bull’s horn rolled over the plain and pass like muffled thunder.

In the next instant, death descended from the sky.

Countless black dots poured down from the cliff, their sharp whistles tearing through the air.

It was arrows, dense as rain.

They easily pierced the Jackal-Wolf Folks’ crude leather armor, tearing through flesh, breaking bones.

A running Jackal-Wolf Folk had its left leg pinned to the ground instantly, howling in pain as it struggled to pull out the bone arrow, only for another arrow to pierce its neck, ending its wail.

"Spread out and charge!"

The Jackal-Wolf Folk leader roared, rolling aside to dodge an iron arrow aimed at him, the arrowhead embedding deeply into the ground where he just stood. Around him, more comrades turned into twitching corpses or wailing wounded under the arrow rain, blood quickly pooling into small streams, flowing through the ground crevices.

As the arrow rain descended.

The frontmost wave of Jackal-Wolf Folk fell within moments, but the monsters behind them continued to charge forward, carrying the dead bodies of their comrades as makeshift shields.

At the cost of many bodies.

The Molten Iron monsters finally drew near to Black Stone Pass.

The arrow rain continued, joined by Fireball Technique, Lightning Chain, Ice Spike, and other magics unleashing their power, making each step forward a struggle.

Meanwhile.

As the Jackal-Wolf Folks and Kobolds attracted the firepower, the stealthy War Lizardfolk warriors had quietly approached the pass.

On the nearly vertical cliff wall, dozens of invisibly camouflaged War Lizardfolk climbed swiftly like giant geckos.

The tips of their elongated claws were rough keratin hooks, embedding deeply into rock crevices, allowing them to move as effortlessly as if on flat ground.

Their target was the protruding stone platforms halfway up the cliffs.

——The archer stronghold of the Dawn Tribe.