Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 114: Garoth, My Foolish and Weak Little Brother

The morning was spent hunting and feeding.

Garoth's gnawing hunger had completely subsided.

It's worth noting that

The black oil couldn't satisfy his appetite. While the energy converted from black oil was swift and efficient, it wasn't lasting. It could only stave off hunger temporarily, so Garoth still needed flesh and blood to truly fill himself.

When hungry, what he needed most was normal food.

The black oil was mainly used to heighten his body's excitement during training, improve workout efficiency, and recharge himself in battle—allowing him to briefly surpass his limits.

After the hunt,

Garoth dedicated the afternoon to training.

This included his usual routine of defense, strength, and flight exercises, culminating in targeted stimulation of his body with the Lightning Tail Ring to accelerate his lightning-based evolution.

However, the Lightning Tail Ring was primarily for enchantment.It acted like a key, unlocking the door to Garoth's lightning evolution, but its subsequent stimulating effects on him were less pronounced. Direct electric-based attacks worked better than strikes mediated through enchantment.

Currently, the sun blazed high—this wasn't the rainy season.

Natural lightning was hard to summon.

The best sparring partners for this were the ogre sorcerers of the Bonegnaw Warhost, who wielded Chain Lightning spells.

As dusk approached, layered hues of twilight painted the sky.

Bathed in the glow of sunset, Garoth soared across the horizon and arrived at Spinebreaker Hills, the stronghold of the ogres.

Karu wasn't here—he had taken some elites out hunting.

"Morga, Snaga."

"Gather the ogre sorcerers of the Bonegnaw Warhost."

Garoth addressed the two-headed ogre.

Morga and Snaga were its names—more precisely, the names of its left and right heads, respectively.

The dual heads endowed the two-headed ogre sorcerer with the talent for dual-casting, allowing it to prepare two spells simultaneously. This made it a terrifying monster that struck fear into ordinary adventurers.

But this came with drawbacks.

Two heads meant two minds controlling one body, inevitably leading to complications and inconveniences.

"My lord, there's something we must report first," the left head, Morga, began.

But before it could continue, the right head, Snaga, cut in: "The ogre forces at Tempering Heights spotted a group of unfamiliar gnolls a few days ago!"

*Thud!*

The left head headbutted its counterpart hard.

"Don't interrupt me!"

Taking advantage of Snaga's dazed state, Morga hurriedly reported to Garoth, "Those gnolls serve another dragon!"

The right head swung its right fist into Morga's eye socket.

"It's an iron dragon! They serve an iron dragon!" it blurted.

The left head, having taken a punch, retaliated by swinging its left fist at Snaga.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

The two-headed sorcerer brawled with itself, soon tumbling to the ground, rolling around while trading blows and hurling ancestral insults.

"Enough!"

Garoth's voice cut through the chaos, and the two-headed ogre immediately froze. It scrambled up, begging for forgiveness—while still shifting blame to the other head.

"Morga, explain the situation to me in detail," Garoth ordered, singling out the left head.

Morga shot Snaga a smug look before turning to Garoth with deference. "It began when Ugor first spotted the gnolls," it recounted meticulously.

A minute later, Garoth had the full picture.

To the north of Tempering Heights, in Shattered Stone Beach, a young iron dragon had established itself. It had sent gnoll scouts to probe Tempering Heights, but Ugor caught one and interrogated it. The news was then relayed back to Spinebreaker Hills via Kora Giant Eagles.

With the Stone Giant dead, the Kora Giant Eagles now served the Molten Iron Clan—they made excellent scouts and messengers.

"The area north of Tempering Heights is uncharted territory for me."

"I didn’t expect a young iron dragon to be lurking there."

Garoth narrowed his eyes, assessing the potential threat based on the information.

Iron dragons were the leaders among the Iron Hybrid Dragons. While slightly weaker than red dragons at the same age, the gap wasn’t significant. An ordinary iron dragon in its youth would have a life level between 7 and 10.

If it really was just a young iron dragon,

Then there was nothing to fear.

But the question was—was it *really* just a young iron dragon?

Garoth remained skeptical of secondhand information.

"Ugor lacks finesse. The message sent back by the Kora Giant Eagles was too sparse."

"I’ll go to Tempering Heights myself."

The gnoll captive was still there, and Shattered Stone Beach lay beyond it.

"Nick’s caravan should be arriving soon."

"He’ll bring me some message stones. Communication between clans will become much easier then."

Message stones had been highly sought after since their invention, widely used in civilized nations but rare in the wilderness. Most monsters didn’t grasp the importance of efficient communication.

"Once Karu returns, have him bring elite ogres to Tempering Heights."

After issuing orders to the two-headed sorcerer, Garoth beat his wings and took off, vanishing into the twilight.

Watching Garoth leave, Morga snorted. "Stupid Snaga, I’m smarter than you. The Dragon Lord favors me more."

Snaga responded with a punch.

The two-headed ogre resumed its self-inflicted brawl, while the surrounding ogres ignored them, long accustomed to the spectacle.

Soon,

Twilight faded into night.

As the moon rose, Garoth arrived at Tempering Heights, landing in the ogre camp.

Ugor was directing ogres to build a dragon statue from giant remains.

Upon seeing Garoth, it dropped to one knee and rasped, "My lord, the gleam of your scales outshines the moon itself."

This flattery was the result of Ugor racking its brain for days, waiting for Karu’s absence to curry favor.

It had lost to Karu in the Sacred Feast but hadn’t given up entirely. It coveted Karu’s position as Grand Warlord and its status as a dragon-vein Gluttonous Ogre.

But it lacked the strength to challenge Karu directly.

So it bided its time, hoping to win Garoth’s favor and surpass Karu through indirect means.

"Rise," Garoth said, eyeing the statue.

Ogres weren’t known for artistic talent—the statue was crude, its form rough and primitive. But the robust limbs and vast wings bore a faint resemblance to Garoth.

"This is a statue we’re building in your honor."

"I’ve heard humans erect statues for great leaders. And you, noble and mighty Redwing Lord, are the only absolute greatness in my heart. I couldn’t wait for the Grand Warlord’s approval—I had to build this to gaze upon your glory day and night."

Ugor spoke gruffly.

Garoth studied the ogre carefully.

This hulking brute had hidden cunning.

It might have thought its motives were concealed, but to Garoth, they were plain as day. The intellectual gap between ogres and dragons was simply too vast.

"Good. I like it," Garoth replied.

He saw through the ploy but chose not to call it out, allowing Ugor’s scheming.

If all the ogres of the Bonegnaw Warhost united in unwavering loyalty to Karu, that would be problematic.

Karu, transformed by the dragon vein, was utterly loyal to Garoth and would never betray him. But that didn’t mean Karu lacked personal ambitions—it might seek more benefits or slack off when unsupervised.

Garoth couldn’t always personally oversee everything.

A potential rival like Ugor would keep Karu diligent.

These were lessons from *The Prince*, part of his iron dragon heritage.

"Bring the gnoll captive. I’ll interrogate it myself," Garoth commanded.

Ugor nodded, then dragged a gnoll scout forward by the scruff of its neck, forcing it to kneel before Garoth.

"This is the leader of the gnoll scouts," Ugor said, kicking the dazed gnoll, Harken, into place.

With the dragon’s breath mere inches away, Harken shuddered back to awareness, trembling uncontrollably.

It stole a glance at Garoth and realized the Redwing Lord was far more imposing than the Iron King it served—stronger, more formidable.

"Now, I ask, you answer," Garoth said.

"Mighty wyrm, I’ll hide nothing from you," Harken groveled.

What followed wasn’t so much an interrogation as a rapid-fire Q&A—the gnoll answered every question instantly, holding nothing back.

Gradually,

Garoth pieced together more details.

For example,

The young iron dragon in Shattered Stone Beach only commanded two clans:

Gnolls and kobolds.

Throw in some goblins,

And you’d have the classic trio of weak young dragons’ minions—the so-called "Three Illusions."

This strongly suggested the iron dragon was indeed young and posed little threat to Garoth.

But one detail stood out.

"The Iron King... why does that title sound familiar?"

His eyes flickered as memories surfaced.

"Garoth! My weak little brother, let me tell you a secret—half-blood dragons never survive adolescence unless they pledge loyalty to the great Iron King."

"Garoth! My foolish little brother, want treasure? Want power? Grovel before the great Iron King, and all your dreams will come true."

"Garoth! My stupid, weak little brother, you’re ugly, short, and pathetic. You’ll never amount to anything. Abandon the Dragon Mother’s protection and follow the great Iron King! Together, under my leadership, the title of Wilderness King will be ours for the taking!"

......

Such phrases flooded Garoth’s mind.

All from the same dragon.

—Solog Igneous.