novelraw Chapter 200: Wild Monster Lords, The Ruthlessness of Time.
Chapter 200: Wild Monster Lords, The Ruthlessness of Time.
"Resource scarcity should still be secondary."
"The convergence lands border the Permafrost Tundra, where frost giants and barbarians with foundations comparable to kingdoms have entrenched themselves. They don't allow organized federal legions to be stationed in the convergence lands."
Garoth pondered internally.
He dismissed his wandering thoughts and looked at the iron dragon Sorog, saying: "The four great tribes may have slightly higher overall strength than us, but not by much. Moreover, they're more focused on each other after years of entrenchment in the convergence lands, maintaining mutual checks and balances."
The iron dragon nodded in agreement: "That's what I think too."
"The Molten Iron Tribe's immediate priority isn't war with the four great tribes, but first completely consolidating the southwest's resources and securing our existing territory. We've developed too quickly."
He looked at Garoth and said: "There are several powerful wild monster lords in the southwest that I'm not confident I can defeat."
"Having minions throw their lives at them would be too costly, so I've left them untouched."
"They occupy some of the more fertile territories - the last missing pieces of the southwest. Now that you've awakened, it's perfect for familiarizing yourself with your increased power while reclaiming these lands."
Wild monster lords referred to powerful savage beasts and magical creatures. They had limited intelligence, few minions, and no management skills, mainly relying on formidable individual strength to dominate territories.Even the four great tribes wouldn't rashly provoke exceptionally powerful wild monster lords.
The red iron dragon shook his thick yet agile neck and grinned: "I've always said - the toughest battles are my responsibility. My wings shall shelter the entire Molten Iron Tribe, including all of you."
"The wild monster lords you can't handle? I'll handle them."
Crack-crack— He stretched his wings and spine, his scales rubbing together with metallic clinking sounds.
After ten years of hibernation boosting his power, he needed time to adapt. Otherwise, uncontrolled power could become hazardous.
The spear-blade-like tail and wings.
The new Frostburst Scales.
The Level 3 Dragon Qi.
...Garoth needed to familiarize himself with all these to develop new combat methods.
The iron dragon provided Garoth with the lair locations and details of several wild monster lords, then said: "The Gold Fang Tribe wants to blockade our trade routes. We can't just sit idle."
He sneered.
"A trade war? Our ancestors who established mighty dragon kingdoms left ample heritage in this regard. Perfect timing to put that inherited knowledge into practice."
He was eager to begin.
The conflict with the Gold Fang Tribe would be handled by the iron dragon.
Garoth would focus on his specialty—combat.
With his intelligence, he could replace Sorog in strategizing against the Gold Fang Tribe, potentially performing better.
But being of red dragon lineage, Garoth naturally preferred straightforward solutions using strength when possible.
Throughout history,
When sufficient strength was available, Garoth's careful deliberation always concluded that direct force was most efficient.
And he consistently acted accordingly—
Using wisdom to harness strength, reason to restrain desire.
Cutting through thorns and thistles.
The southwest's wild monster lords were thorns embedded in the Molten Iron Tribe's territory.
Unlike typical red dragons, Garoth was more cautious.
He didn't plan immediate action, waiting instead for his Frostburst Scales to fully develop before eliminating them at peak condition.
"Dragon Lord, the gnoll Hodge requests an audience."
A Rampage Bear guard approached, speaking gruffly.
Since all young adult dragons had awakened, the bears no longer guarded hibernation sites, now serving as proper guards.
"Bring him in."
The red iron dragon nodded slightly.
Minutes later, an elderly gnoll with patchy, shedding fur revealing wrinkled skin entered Garoth's view.
His back was hunched, eyes cloudy, claws no longer sharp, left arm missing from the shoulder.
Trembling with unsteady steps, he arduously prostrated before Garoth.
At first glance, his appearance seemed unfamiliar.
Had the bear guard not announced his name, Garoth might not have recognized him.
"Dragon Lord, your scales still shine gloriously. Praise be to you."
The gnoll panted slightly, wagging his tail as he spoke.
His voice was hoarser but retained familiar tones and that characteristic fawning quality.
"Hodge, you've aged."
The red iron dragon stated.
"My lord, time is the most terrifying foe. Though toothless, it has scarred me endlessly. Only noble beings like yourself can conquer it."
The gnoll rasped.
Ten years was but a snap for long-lived species, but weighed like mountains upon the short-lived.
Ordinary gnolls rarely lived past thirty winters.
By the time Garoth reached young adulthood, few remained from his first gnoll followers. Even the once-vigorous 'Warlord Bloodfang' now stood with one foot in the grave.
"Hodge, state your purpose for this audience."
Garoth asked directly.
The gnoll's cloudy eyes flickered with familiar cunning: "My lord, your awakening now is my fortune, allowing this final glimpse of your majesty before death."
Garoth smirked.
"Anything else?"
He inquired.
Hodge's petty schemes were transparent before him.
The gnoll wagged his tail, ingratiating: "Nothing, nothing."
After a pause, he added: "Since losing my arm years ago leading the Iron Will against a beast lord, surviving that near-fatal wound, my health has steadily declined. I only wished to see you once more before death, to declare my life's greatest honor was fighting for you."
The red iron dragon nodded:
"Request granted. You may leave."
The gnoll's smile stiffened as he turned sluggishly, glancing back repeatedly with snail-paced steps.
"Stop. Come here."
Seconds later, deep draconic words sounded.
Music to his ears.
The gnoll spun with youthful agility, face brimming with obsequious delight.
Garoth stated bluntly: "You've followed me since early days as a Molten Iron Tribe elder, contributing greatly. As reward, I grant dragon blood for rebirth."
"You've earned this."
Garoth had preserved battle-spilled dragon blood in Dragon Valley cellars as transformation material, still plentiful.
The red iron dragon leaned forward: "Hodge, burn through everything, then survive to keep fighting for me."
"That's an order. Understood?"
The gnoll shed his fawning demeanor, straightening his hunched back solemnly.
"By your command!"
He answered gravely.
Soon after,
Dragon blood arrived from the cellar.
Garoth, well-practiced, began the transformation ritual, condensing the blood into a searing crimson pearl.
Gnoll Hodge gritted his teeth and swallowed it.
Instantly, flames engulfed him.
Wracked by agony burning body and soul alike, the gnoll collapsed, claw tearing at the ground amid tortured howls.
His flesh swelled, splitting skin and fur.
His body expanded repeatedly only to be incinerated.
Movements weakened, cries faded—after half an hour, only ashes remained.
Ultimately, gnoll Hodge failed his final order.
Dragon vein transformation required iron willpower.
Hodge had always lacked death-defying courage, positioning troops as shields while using warlord skills to strengthen them from behind.
This preserved him through countless battles,
But couldn't grant rebirth.
The red iron dragon shook his head slightly.
His wings stirred winds scattering the ashes skyward.
Time was merciless.
Dragons as long-lived species could survive centuries, but without achieving immortality, even their lifespans would end. The mighty Twenty-Four-Winged Gold Dragon now neared his final days.
"Eternal life, immortality... Can I attain it?"
Garoth's heart surged with silent questioning.
"Without doubt!"
Came his resolute, unwavering answer.