novelraw Chapter 249: Ten Modification Rituals, Dragon-Forge Warriors, Like a Demon Lord Descending from the Heavens
Chapter 249: Ten Modification Rituals, Dragon-Forge Warriors, Like a Demon Lord Descending from the Heavens
The Convergence Lands, Black Iron Plains.
The smoke rising from the alchemy workshop could not be hidden even by the heavy snow. The furnaces roared day and night, the teleportation platform pulsed continuously, and on the assembly line the claws of the wolfmen and kobolds were practically sparking from the constant labor.
Seeing this scene, Garoth nodded with satisfaction.
After finishing his training, he had soared through the blizzard to relax, and on the way he stopped by the Black Iron Plains to check on the progress of the alchemical industry.
"Samantha, you've done well."
"I already see traces of the Red Dragon Queen in you."
He praised the red dragon in charge here.
But Samantha did not look pleased by the compliment. Her chin did not lift and her tail did not curl—behavior oddly subdued compared to her usual demeanor.
"Oh? You seem troubled."
Garoth, whose nature was as composed as a true dragon, asked."Not exactly troubled."
Samantha flicked her tail irritably and muttered, "One of the giant fire ant leaders I had high hopes for got burned to death during dragon vein transformation. Damn it—what a waste. It's a fire-type creature, but it was killed by dragon blood."
Garoth recognized the giant fire ant leader she mentioned.
It had been one of Samantha's beasts for a long time—cleverer than a regular feral beast but a bit dimmer than an Earth Rampage Bear—and Samantha often had it fight alongside her alchemical constructs. In her eyes, its status was... probably that of a little girl's toy.
"The 'toy' couldn't withstand the dragon vein transformation and died."
Given a red dragon's temperament, she wasn't so much grieving as she was annoyed.
"Dragon vein transformation..."
Hearing Samantha, Garoth couldn't help but recall his own followers lost in dragon vein transformations.
Those who earned the opportunity for dragon vein transformation were veterans who had followed him for years and contributed greatly, or elites with extraordinary talent in specific areas. Each one was someone on whom he pinned hope.
But the transformation itself was brutal and perilous.
Failure meant death.
Only a handful of followers had ever survived it.
"Is there any way to reduce the death rate in dragon vein transformation?"
Garoth fell into thought, searching the dragon inheritance for answers, but the knowledge he found didn't quite apply.
Just then, the Grand Artificer—his goblin-constructed body modeled after a goblin craftsman—approached.
He had overheard the two dragons' conversation. Data-like lights flickered across his eyes, and then, in his typical calm, rational tone, he said, "The dragon vein transformation is domineering and cruel. If we can break it into separate steps and perform the transformation gradually—small changes repeated several times—it should significantly increase success rates."
His analogy was vivid.
Like forging an alchemical golem: trying to complete the whole process in one go is time-consuming and difficult, but if you manufacture individual components separately and then assemble them, the difficulty drops greatly.
Garoth nodded thoughtfully.
"Makes sense. The dragon vein transformation ritual itself isn't necessarily complex—it's almost crude in its approach."
"If we can separate it into phases and do it step by step, the danger would certainly be much lower."
He and the Grand Artificer discussed the idea in depth and became increasingly convinced of its feasibility.
They could decompose the full transformation into rituals targeting different body parts—flesh, heart, lungs, limbs, bones, brain, soul—and even into a dozen or so modification rituals, progressively strengthening each part.
If this technique matured, he could add a batch of powerful followers.
And it wouldn't be necessary to complete the full dragon vein transformation.
Completing just one or two modification rituals could boost a follower's attributes and potential, and then more rituals could be added as needed, further motivating followers.
To distinguish it from the traditional dragon vein transformation, Garoth named this approach "dragon-forge modification."
"Good. If the concept works, the Molten Iron Tribe could add another Warhost—a dragon-forge regiment."
Garoth looked to the Grand Artificer and Samantha and asked, "Given our current alchemical industry, is it possible to break the transformation ritual down and run dragon-forge modification assembly-line style?"
They both shook their heads.
"Alchemy specializes in steel and machinery."
After calming, the red iron dragon nodded and said, "Indeed. The dragon-forge ritual involves modifying flesh and soul—basically necromancy's domain."
The Molten Iron Tribe currently lacked talent in that field.
It would be difficult to achieve in the short term.
"Among the Five-colored Dragons, black dragons are naturally adept at manipulating flesh and soul. They would be suitable to take up necromancers or to learn necromantic arts. In the future we could cultivate some black dragon necromancers specifically to research and perfect dragon-forge modification rituals."
Garoth planned quietly in his mind.
At that moment his expression suddenly turned serious, as though something urgent had occurred.
"What's wrong?"
Samantha asked.
"A powerful demon has appeared at the Abyssal Rift. No time to waste—I'm going to deal with it."
The situation was urgent. Before he finished speaking Garoth spread his dragon wings, his robust body tore through the blizzard, and he vanished into the distant horizon.
Southwest, the Fertile Plains.
Garoth's followers were locked in a bitter struggle.
As time passed, White Dragon Trixie and the half-blood centaur bore many torn wounds; the stench of rot lingered, bleeding would not stop, their breath grew weak, and several demon leaders grew increasingly ferocious.
"I will cut you open, taste your flesh and soul slowly."
A Vulture Demon howled in warped, grating Abyssal speech.
Elvy couldn't understand Abyssal, but she could clearly feel the undisguised malice in its tone.
These Vulture Demons seemed to covet her, eager to tear her apart alive.
Yet she did not feel fear.
Because far off on the horizon she saw a speck of red fire—dim at first in the snow and wind, then steadily sharpening.
"He's here."
White Dragon Trixie gave a low snarl. Her previously defensive fighting style suddenly turned aggressive. She taunted in Abyssal: "Creeping things of the Abyss, are you ready to meet death?"
Before the Vulture Demons could react, the crimson fiend had already pierced the clouds. Snowflakes vaporized where it passed, leaving a hundred-colored streak across the sky.
Garoth charged with unstoppable might.
The first targets were the common Vulture Demons circling in the air.
They emitted piercing screeches that shattered the wind and tried to slow Garoth's approach with sound.
But their psychic assaults had no effect on Garoth's resolute will; he was immune.
He dove into the swarm—dragon wings slashing like giant blades, his whole body a lethal weapon. In an instant, limbs and blood of the ridden demons rained down like a shower, painting a lurid red on the snow-white ground.
However, the putrid stench released as the Vulture Demons died enveloped Garoth.
When demons from the Abyss invade the Material Plane, they habitually send large numbers of low-tier demons as vanguard. These cannon fodder aren't worthless: their deaths pollute the Material Plane's environment and can weaken even powerful foes.
Seeing Garoth shrouded in fetid stench, five Vulture Demon leaders synchronized and flashed away, abandoning the badly wounded white dragon and centaur to concentrate their attack on the approaching red iron dragon.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Within the suffocating cloud of corruption, five Vulture Demon leaders struck Garoth from different directions.
When Garoth extended his claws, spread his wings, and lashed his tail in counterattack, they vanished from their original positions and two of them reappeared in Garoth's blind spots.
Their abyss-infused talons carried tearing, corrosion, and putrefaction effects, striking like lightning toward the back of Garoth's head.
But just as they were about to land, the two suddenly froze—as if gripped by an invisible giant hand—flesh and bone emitting sickening, creaking sounds.
The other three powerful Vulture Demons instantaneously opened their energy vision.
Hiss—simultaneously they shrank, inhaling sharply.
Beside Garoth's already majestic flanks, two more stout black-red dragon arms had extended, firmly clamping the two ambushing Vulture Demons in their claws.
As the dragon claws tightened, the demons' bodies were crushed bit by bit.
Soon Garoth casually tossed away the formless, oozing meat.
He stretched his four robust dragon arms; his towering frame bathed in wind and snow, radiating a ferocity more violent than that of even high-tier demons.
If one ignored the fact he had just crushed two demons in his claws, one might think he was the mastermind who had led the demons in invading the Material Plane.
Flee!
The remaining Vulture Demon leaders made a split-second decision and fled headlong toward the Abyssal Rift.
However, a streak of golden light flashed by.
A "wall" suddenly filled a demon leader's field of view. It slammed into Garoth's solid chest armor, its body paralyzed by coursing lightning. Before it could react, Garoth's great claw struck down and pounded it into a radiating pulp.
Two other leaders tried to teleport around Garoth,
but above the Abyssal Rift a sacred web had already been constructed by the half-blood centaur to block the Vulture Demons' escape route.
Boom boom!
Golden lightning crackled fiercely across Garoth's body—he moved as fast as teleportation. He caught up to two fleeing demons in succession and ended them with just two or three swipes each.
Vulture Demon leaders relied on agility.
But when they met Garoth—faster, stronger, and able to kill with a single blow—they instantly became powerless.
"As expected! The moment Garoth arrives, these demon leaders turn into prey."
White Dragon Trixie watched the scene and felt her dynamic ecological niche theory confirmed.
"From now on I'll avoid appearing in front of the strong as much as possible; I'll suffer far less bullying."
"When the Molten Iron Tribe has more young dragons, I'll apply to be their nurse—blend into the hatchlings and be their leader!"
Trixie happily schemed.
The ensuing cleanup felt like autumn leaves swept by wind.
The other demons were quickly eradicated.
"Great Redwing Lord, unstoppable harbinger of death! Invincible and triumphant!"
"Dragon Lord reigns! Praise the Dragon Lord! Even the Abyss must tremble before the dragons!"
Seeing Garoth's battle posture—like a demon king—his followers bowed to him in awe and admiration, shouting praises.
Too over the top.
Garoth let the Frenzied State lightning dissipate and retracted his dragon qi arms.
He didn't correct them, though; he comfortably enjoyed the followers' praise and admiration, squinting his eyes slightly while his tail swayed left and right.
Elvy dragged her tired body forward, drank some restorative potion, and then dispelled the lingering abyssal miasma with holy energy.
The followers began methodically collecting valuable abyssal materials:
quasit bat wings, mane tentacles, vrock black feathers, vulture talons...
These were rare abyssal specialties obtained only from demons. If brought to the Southern Federation, many spellcasters and sorcerers would pay high prices.