A Dragon against the Whole World

The Ancestral Spirit Altar has been passed down through the generations of the Dawn Tribe, a condensation of their spirit and a symbol of tribal culture.

The path of becoming an Ancestral Guard also requires the Ancestral Spirit Altar, through praying or sacrificing to the ancestors to take up this role.

Now, with the Ancestral Spirit Altar destroyed, it will be difficult for the Dawn Tribe to give birth to more Ancestral Guards, and the Barbarian Leaders, after being wounded, can no longer regenerate and recover easily through the altar as before.

A strategy of bottom-tier consumption combined with top-tier decapitation.

It achieved great success.

"Destroy my Ancestral Spirit Altar, and we shall fight to the death!"

Each barbarian’s eyes were bloodshot, including the tribal leader, Brunhild. He, along with a group of high-ranking Barbarian Leaders, was frantically running toward the location of the Ancestral Spirit Altar, getting gradually closer.

But.

First came a deafeningly deep rumble, as flames rising to the sky turned the night almost into day.

Then.

Wide wings tearing through the night sky, blocking out the moonlight, casting a massive shadow on the ground, swiftly rushing past Brunhild’s body.

He looked up and saw figures of the Dragon Race moving away from the direction of the altar, gradually disappearing.

"You despicable, deceitful Evil Dragon! Come down and face me in a death match if you dare!"

The pain, it was too much.

Brunhild’s eyes were red, veins bulging on his thick neck, as his axe cleaved spider-web-like cracks into the ground.

The Barbarian Chieftain, known for his calm demeanor, had completely torn away his mask of reason, releasing a hysterical roar at the sky.

The sound waves shook the nearby pine needles to the ground, yet couldn’t even disturb the air at the tip of the Red Iron Dragon’s wings.

Galos merely lowered his night-black vertical pupils, glancing at the furious figure like an ant, then continued soaring leisurely in the high sky.

The curses mixed with ancient barbarian slang were, to him, nothing more than songs of praise brought by the night wind.

The enemies’ curses never angered Galos.

In his view, it was an affirmation of his methods, a compliment.

Barbarians, the epitome of Fury and Frenzy, gained terrifying power through their rage but also bore a fatal weakness—the angrier they got, the more their rationality melted like snow.

Even the usually wise and composed Brunhild had now become a beast ruled by rage.

They sensed that the Ancestral Spirit Altar could no longer be rescued, yet in their rage still made the wrong decision, all high-ranking leaders rushing to the now-ruined sacred site, ignoring another strategic position they had kept an eye on previously.

"Tonight, the stars shine so brightly... it’s a pity to return to the nest so soon, missing out on such a wonderful night."

The Red Iron Dragon spread its wings, its Dragon Scales clinking, laughing loudly, "Solrog! Samantha! Come with me to patrol Black Stone Pass shielded by the moon!"

The night wind whistled past the wings of the young dragons, emitting a clear, melodious sound.

Behind them, the torchlights of the Barbarian Tribe, like a frenzy of fireflies, were moving farther away in the other direction, while the outline of Black Stone Pass became increasingly clear under the moonlight.

Soon after.

Black Stone Pass.

Drying bloodstains still clung to the gate, as the guards of the Dawn Tribe kicked away the heads of the Jackal-Wolf Folk with laughter, unaware that the Ancestral Spirit Altar on the other side had turned to scorched earth.

Only a few leaders held the suddenly dimming Communication Stone, their expressions fluctuating.

On the plains south of the pass, the Berserkers of the Ironblood Tribe were still unleashing their bloodthirsty desires, pursuing the remnants of the Molten Iron Tribe.

Suddenly, the fiercest Beastman leader halted his steps, his rough hand pressing on his violently thumping heart.

A shiver, as if being watched by a predator, caused cold sweat to seep from the scarred nape of his neck.

In the instant he looked up, the pupils of the Beastman reflected two pairs of wings that blotted out the sky.

Iron Dragon Solrog’s steel scales reflected the cold moonlight, while Red Dragon Samantha’s body seemed like fiery red flames.

Boom!

Before they could react, the ground shook violently, as if a meteor had struck the earth.

The Berserker turned back and saw that the once impregnable Black Stone Pass, standing firm on the earth, was now like collapsed building blocks, reduced to ruins amidst flames. A powerful Dragon Shadow was rampaging within, slaughtering any remaining guards as if crushing ants.

The Red Iron Dragon casually crushed three shield-bearing barbarians with a swipe of its claws.

Where its Dragon Wings swept, guards donned in steel chest armor were cut in half; a Berserker took the opportunity to leap onto the dragon’s back, but just before landing, a spear’s tail pierced through his chest, and with a slight shake, his upper body exploded into a blood mist.

After the incident at the Ancestral Spirit Altar.

The high-level leaders hurriedly left, leaving the middle-ranking leaders behind, who were incapable of resisting the might of the giant dragon.

The furious barbarians, unafraid of death, considered battle an honor, roaring as they charged at the Red Iron Dragon, who showed no mercy, fulfilling their wish to die in combat.

"The great Master of Red Wings is here! Counterattack! Counterattack!"

Dogman Doug shouted.

The appearance of the giant dragons instantly revitalized the morale of the nearly broken Molten Iron Soldiers, dispelling their fear, as they turned and charged at the Berserkers, coordinating with the powerful Iron Dragon and Red Dragon to slaughter this elite berserker force completely.

On the other side.

"Black Stone Pass is under attack!"

Urgent news arrived, and just as Brunhild wanted to ask for more details, a massive rumble on the other end of the Communication Stone was followed by silence.

The destruction of the Ancestral Spirit Altar was a foregone conclusion.

The victory initially achieved at Black Stone Pass also went up in flames.

...... Just as Brunhild’s anger had slightly subsided, his eyes turned bloodshot again, popping with blood vessels, but as he took deep breaths, pressing his fingers against the pulsing veins on his face, he slowly controlled his rage, with reason not entirely consumed.

Given the situation.

He could only think carefully about the next steps, trying to minimize losses and mount a counterattack.