novelraw Chapter 130: Legendary Goal, the Terrifying Twilight Dragon
Chapter 130: Legendary Goal, the Terrifying Twilight Dragon
Normal human legends live only about two to three hundred years. With certain conditions and various light or dark longevity methods, the absolute limit is five to six hundred years, and their strength weakens as their body ages.
In contrast, dragons—once they become legends—gain at least another thousand years added to their already long lifespans. After that, they remain at their peak forever. The legendary twilight dragon is actually the strongest moment in its life, and no one dares to provoke it.
Nowadays, the great empires treat the metal dragons with courtesy and dare not ruthlessly exterminate the evil dragons, largely out of fear for the twenty-four-winged Gold Dragon currently in its twilight state.
The twilight state means death can come at any time, yet the body’s functions are at their strongest peak.
These terrifying buffs stack almost completely.
Even if a twilight Gold Dragon does not take action, just patrolling the airspace of certain countries is enough to terrify them, fearing that being dragged down by this ancient dragon means mutual destruction.
“Legends are the true meaning of strength.”
“To a legendary life, all battles below legend level are like weaklings pecking at each other, mere trivial scuffles.”
Garoth set a goal for himself: “Become a legend within five hundred years.”
This goal was not high; it could even be considered low.Just like the gold dragons Garoth used as a benchmark for himself— for them, becoming a legendary life at five hundred years old is somewhat difficult, but not extremely so. Outstanding gold dragons basically all become legends before five hundred years.
Garoth did not like setting goals too high or unrealistic.
He preferred to set his goals low.
That way, when achieved early, it would give him a sense of accomplishment.
If he set a one hundred year legendary goal but failed, he might not be discouraged, but there would still be a faint sense of disappointment.
Garoth took a deep breath, unleashing dazzling golden lightning within himself and entering his Frenzied State.
Even lying still in this state stimulates and trains the body.
He calmly crouched in the storm, silently savoring the sting of lightning on his muscles while continuing to listen to the conversation between Frostfang and Nick.
It should be mentioned here:
The old Shaman of the Graymane Werewolf clan naturally passed away two years ago.
After the werewolves held a funeral to see him off, Frostfang inherited his will and stood in his place to continue serving Garoth.
Nick finished sharing the information he knew about the Permafrost Tundra, then took out waterproof paper and pen to carefully write down each of Frostfang’s requested items. After confirming multiple times to ensure nothing was missed, he carefully put them away.
After setting the next trading date,
the caravan’s troll slaves began loading the goods onto the wagons.
Nick stood inside the tent watching this scene, while Frostfang led her clan preparing to depart.
Just as they reached the tent entrance, Nick suddenly spoke up: “Wait a moment.”
The werewolf sorcerer paused and turned to look at Nick.
“Is there something else?”
It asked.
Nick’s smile did not change as he quietly said, “Next time we trade, I want to meet that lord, to express my loyalty and respect. That lord gave me new life; I am deeply grateful.”
The lord he referred to was obviously the hidden leader behind the Clan of Molten Iron.
Of course, Nick did not know the name Clan of Molten Iron.
Their dealings only took place on the trade route, and Nick knew only a little more than other merchants: that the monsters on the Serpentine Earth Rift all swore allegiance to the same lord, but he did not know these monster clans had been consolidated.
Upon hearing Nick’s words,
Frostfang’s eyes suddenly changed, becoming cold and dangerous.
In recent years, many merchants had tried to investigate Garoth’s identity, but they all ended up disappearing without a trace. Frostfang was mainly responsible for this.
But Nick was different from those merchants.
Suppressing the urge to kill, Frostfang slowly said, “I cannot decide on this; I can only ask for permission. Once I get an answer, I will notify you through the message stone.”
Nick quickly nodded and showed a flattering smile.
“Thank you, thank you.”
He took out a magic gem, placed it into Frostfang’s claw, and whispered, “This is a small token of my appreciation. Please accept it.”
Frostfang took the gem, then gradually disappeared into the rain with her clan.
After a brief tidying, the caravan resumed moving, gradually fading into the distance along the Serpentine Earth Rift.
Ten minutes later, the iron dragon Sorog descended from the sky, his massive wings blocking the rain and wind as he landed before the werewolves who had not yet returned to their territory.
He kept a constant watch here just in case.
“Noble Iron King, please accept this gem.”
Frostfang offered the gem, still warm, which the iron dragon took without hesitation.
“Will the Dragon Lord agree to meet next time?”
Frostfang asked.
The iron dragon looked toward the trade route, his gaze dark and inscrutable through the rain. He said, “Not necessarily. But if he refuses, we will end our trade with this caravan and find a new one we can control and command.”
Frostfang knew how to end things.
He nodded heavily.
The steady drizzle showed no sign of stopping.
The iron dragon Sorog returned to Needleleaf Valley, folding his wings to shake off the rain, and said to Garoth, “Do you intend to meet that human?”
Garoth casually nodded, sparing Nick from a fatal fate.
“Let him meet.” Garoth’s tail swept across the ground, leaving a trench. “Ten years of testing has proven he is a smart man who knows how to balance between profit and loyalty.”
“Besides, times have changed. He should know exactly how grand and magnificent the one he pledges loyalty to is.”
Garoth exaggeratedly boasted about himself.
The iron dragon wanted to warn Garoth not to be too arrogant, but glancing at Garoth’s imposing physique, his eyelid twitched and he said nothing.
What Garoth said was true.
It wasn’t arrogance or conceit.
After searching through his Dragon Legacy, the iron dragon could not find another dragon as strong as Garoth at the same age.
Then, after some thought, the iron dragon proposed, “I want to establish some taverns around the trade route, selecting intelligent individuals from our followers to manage them.”
Garoth’s gaze flickered.
“You mean to use these taverns to gather intelligence?”
The iron dragon nodded and said, “We are in the wilderness, information is scarce and backward. We cannot wait until problems arise or when we need to investigate. We need better ears and eyes.”
After a pause, the iron dragon added, “Also, I want to come out from behind the scenes.”
He seriously told Garoth, “You and Samantha still remain in the shadows, while I will stand in the open as a dragon to attract more wilderness clans to pledge allegiance, allowing the Clan of Molten Iron to develop rapidly.”
Hearing this, Garoth shook his head.
“Now is not the right time.”
He said.
Whether establishing taverns or the iron dragon stepping forward, both were too conspicuous, equivalent to exposing the Clan of Molten Iron openly.
The iron dragon was competent in managing territory and followers, but sometimes too eager and unable to hide his ambitions. He also had some typical dragon personality flaws. The real decision for the future direction still belonged to Garoth.
“Why?”
The iron dragon asked, somewhat confused.
Garoth did not answer directly, instead asking, “Sorog, who do you think the Serpentine Earth Rift belongs to?”
“Of course us. It belongs to the Clan of Molten Iron.”
The iron dragon answered naturally.
“No, it belongs to the Lothrian Federation. You must understand this.”
Garoth looked south and slowly said, “The Thousand Serpent Traces trade route that crosses the Ser Wilderness, including the main and branch roads, was all developed and created by the Lothrian Federation, and they have powerful guards watching over it.”
“Our normal trade with caravans on the road is fine. Even if we are recognized as the overlords of this branch, it’s no problem.”
“But the premise is that we cannot stand openly, cannot appear on stage, cannot loudly claim to be the masters of the Serpentine Earth Rift.”
Garoth’s gaze was calm as he continued, “Do you know why the Lothrian Federation’s trade route guards tolerate monster clans operating on the trade route?”
“Because they cling to the rocks like lichens—neither obvious enough to be removed nor without practical value.”
“But if those lichens suddenly wanted to become towering trees...”
Garoth did not finish, but the meaning was clear.
The iron dragon was silent.
Yet inside, he was somewhat unwilling.
“When can we stand on the stage of the wilderness, on the world stage, without disguise?” he asked.
Opposite him, the red iron dragon grinned and said, “Be patient, my brother.”
“Never forget who we are. Time is always on our side.”