novelraw Chapter 297: Normal Excitement, Hidden Sword, War
Chapter 297: Normal Excitement, Hidden Sword, War
Chapter 297: Normal Frenzy, Hidden Blade, War
Ser Wilderness, Ximu Town.
After a tense, anxiety-filled lockdown that felt like an eternity, the merchants, adventurers, and ordinary townsfolk confined within the town were surprised to find their taut nerves slowly loosening.
They came to the dawning realization that the monsters garrisoned here behaved in ways completely at odds with the chaotic, bloodthirsty image whispered in rumors.
Their appearances could still be terrifying, their claws and fangs still glinting coldly.
Yet they adhered to an invisible, stern order, consciously sheathing their teeth and retracting their claws.
As long as one strictly obeyed the decrees issued by the Molten Iron Tribe and did not provoke conflict, these sentries stood like silent statues and would not inflict unprovoked harm;
that, of course, did not mean weakness.
Townspeople had also witnessed the monsters’ ferocity in the square or at the gallows. Anyone who dared break the iron code—stealing, fighting to death, attacking guards—would incur thunderous punishment.
Depending on the severity of the crime, penalties included but were not limited to: public whipping with salt-soaked leather; amputation of limbs; merciless public hanging; or, for repeat offenders, immediate beheading...What surprised people even more was this:
the Molten Iron Tribe not only refrained from destroying or ravaging Ximu Town, it actually began large-scale expansion and renovation of the town while enforcing strict control.
They even deployed industrial-grade alchemical golems! These massive constructs tirelessly compacted earth, laid roads, and reinforced walls.
Even more jaw-dropping: the monsters posted recruitment notices, openly hiring adventurers and laborers to help build the territory for fair pay, plus a range of special odd jobs.
For example:
[Care for Lord Ludwig the Green Dragon’s scales; polish and trim claws]
—Those who completed it would receive hemp-fruit induced by the Green Dragon.
At first, residual panic remained, but staying barricaded was no long-term solution.
Some bold or cash-strapped adventurers took the construction jobs.
They worked as if with death as the only alternative, and astonishingly... after diligently finishing, they received the promised payments on the contract—quickly and without discrepancy!
The ones who tallied work hours, verified quality, and disbursed pay were the sharp-eyed, nimble goblins.
These small creatures were infamous for cunning and greed, yet this time they showed none of their usual pretense, delay, or skimming—rather, they were strikingly efficient.
Adventurers checked again and again and found no embezzlement.
Word of mouth carried great weight. Seeing the first risk-takers not only safe but also richly rewarded, more people's doubts and fears were overridden by hunger for wealth, and they joined the town’s reconstruction wave with complex feelings.
Time slipped by like a stream.
Ximu Town changed almost daily; after a month it had expanded several times over.
New houses, neatly arranged, replaced dilapidated shacks; broad, clean stone streets radiated in all directions.
Crucially, thanks to the Molten Iron Tribe’s strict but effective governance, the public safety situation transformed drastically. The vicious clashes that once resulted in drawn blades and bloodshed on street corners were suppressed down to scuffles and petty quarrels.
Order—which had been a luxury along the wilderness edge—arrived in Ximu Town with the monsters’ presence.
Just as the town prospered and flourished, Green Dragon Ludwig officially announced the lifting of Ximu Town’s lockdown!
When people gathered at the formerly heavily guarded, impregnable exit, they saw the burly ogre guards still standing on either side of the gate, radiating an imposing force—but their posture was lax now, devoid of prior deadly tension, as if saying, "Leave if you like, stay if you like."
When the first daring soul cautiously tried to step out and, to their surprise, suffered no pursuit, more people began attempting to leave.
However, most departures were temporary.
After wandering outside a bit and breathing in a few lungs of free air, they would almost always return to town.
Very few truly chose to abandon Ximu Town.
After a month of living together day and night, townsfolk had seen through the monsters: fearsome in appearance but orderly in behavior, not prone to wanton slaughter; their dread had dissipated.
Besides, with such powerful creatures maintaining order and defending against ferocious monsters roaming the surrounding wilderness, Ximu Town’s safety reached unprecedented levels!
Those who dared make a living in such lawless outskirts were either wildly brave or utterly desperate; they had stuck it out when the town was rundown and harsh. Now, with the town growing prosperous, safe, and comfortable by their own hands, leaving would be laughable.
And it wasn’t just Ximu Town that changed.
Along the Serpentine Earth Rift, both deep forests and treacherous gorges were now dotted with patrol posts established by the Molten Iron Tribe.
Beasts and monsters that had become accustomed to raiding and devastation were driven away or hunted down; the safety of the entire trade route improved greatly.
Coupled with the Molten Iron Tribe’s reputation—built here over twenty years—spreading again, trade convoys increased, not decreased, making the area even busier and more prosperous than during the Albert family’s rule.
More merchants passed through here to rest, and more people considered staying to seek opportunity.
Therefore,
when the weather cleared and bright sunlight drenched the land,
when the Flower Knight Shire Hynes arrived alone, windblown and travel-worn, stepping onto the broad road paved with even bricks,
what met his eyes was nothing like the tragedy of towns enslaved by monsters he had imagined.
He saw clean streets, new houses, orderly crowds, and thriving shops.
The roar of voices, the clanging from the blacksmith, and hawkers’ calls blended into a vibrant, active chorus.
For a moment, the young, handsome knight almost believed he had stumbled into a flourishing, stable town of the Federation—rather than the danger-filled heart of the Ser Wilderness.
The gap between the cruelty he expected and the lively scene before him rooted him to the spot for a heartbeat.
"Human—hiss... don’t just stand there blocking the road."
A serpentine guard with a curved blade at her waist and vertical-slit pupils reminded him coolly; her forked tongue fluttered slightly.
"Sorry, very sorry." Shire snapped out of it and hurriedly stepped aside.
When he noticed the serpentine guard was a lithe, exotically beautiful female, his instinctive gallantry and charm ignited.
"Beautiful Ms. Serpent, thank you for your kindly warning."
He performed a courteous adventurer’s bow, then adopted a perfectly timed troubled expression.
"I’m newly arrived and quite lost. Might I be so lucky as to ask you to point me on my way?"
The serpent woman asked, "Where are you headed?"
"Ma’am." Shire flashed his signature sunlit grin—one enough to make many young women blush—and with a flourish like a sleight-of-hand, a bright red rose appeared at his fingertips.
"The destination I long for... is your heart."
Though dressed as an ordinary adventurer, his handsome face could not be entirely concealed.
The serpent guard appraised him up and down with direct, unabashed scrutiny; the tip of her agile tail flicked out and curled around the rose.
Without warning she suddenly twisted her waist and leaned forward, her cool, delicate cheek nearly brushing Shire’s.
"Hissss—"
She stuck out her forked tongue and, with an intoxicatingly wild, teasing manner, lightly licked the knight’s cheek. Then, watching Shire go momentarily rigid and speechless, she said, "Human, do you want to mate with me?"
"No problem. I’ve been curious about human flavor too."
"Mi—misunderstanding! A huge misunderstanding!"
Shire had not expected so direct and wild a reply. The damp, cool sensation on his cheek hadn’t even faded before his face flushed crimson; he practically fled using hands and feet, prompting muffled laughter from nearby townsfolk.
"Odd human."
The serpent woman shook her head in puzzlement, toyed with the rose, and watched the knight’s embarrassed retreat, murmuring, "You said you liked me—why run then? Humans are strange."
She felt she would never understand the roundabout intricacies of human emotions.
Elsewhere, after wandering the town and calming down, Shire eventually entered the busiest tavern.
His confusion only deepened.
Why could Ximu Town present such orderly prosperity under monster rule? It conflicted sharply with what he had heard from Count Millsbury—that the monsters were savage, bloodthirsty, slaughtering humans and occupying territory.
Admittedly,
Shire was deeply grateful to Count Millsbury for the many favors and support extended early in his adventuring career. So when asked for help, he had dropped his prior tasks without hesitation and rushed to this wilderness.
But he was no longer a rookie who could be swayed by one-sided words.
Experience had taught him careful observation and independent thought.
The town’s current peaceful prosperity banged a huge question mark against his heart, filling him with puzzlement and doubt.
So he decided to delay action.
His first priority was to investigate carefully and uncover the truth behind this situation, then cautiously plan next moves.
In the tavern, thanks to his natural humor and warmth, worldly conversation, and his willingness to buy rounds, Shire quickly befriended several tables of adventurers.
Between cups, he steered the conversation and gradually pieced together the backstory, learning of the two-decade-long grudge between the Molten Iron Tribe and the Albert family.
From the gathered intelligence,
he concluded the dragon that once assaulted the nobles had only been a Young Dragon then, and should now have advanced into the youth phase;
its followers’ organizational and combat strength implied a leader of exceptional quality—perhaps comparable to an ordinary adolescent dragon, even touching on the threshold of adulthood.
But Shire harbored no fear; he had full confidence in himself.
His original plan had been to assassinate the young green dragon leader entrenched here to liberate Ximu Town,
then wage guerrilla warfare—raiding and damaging Molten Iron Tribe outposts around the Serpentine Earth Rift to steadily weaken them and sow panic.
During that campaign he would probe for the true leader—the mixed-blood dragon—its trail, strength, and habits, seeking the perfect strike to fulfill the Count’s vengeance.
Now,
the prosperity and order he’d seen directly clashed with his assumptions of brutal rule, instantly blurring his clear plan and injecting uncertainty. His action plan needed adjustment.
"The Molten Iron Tribe’s leader might be a Chromatic Evil Dragon in blood, but their current conduct... is hard to call truly evil," Shire thought as he walked the town streets under the night sky, mind churning.
He was called the Flower Knight not only for looks and charm, but because he upheld knightly ideals: punish evil, uplift virtue, support justice, and protect the weak.
He wasn’t a racist. He had killed dragons before, but those were coastal dragons that burned villages, slaughtered fishermen, and plundered wealth; his standard was behavior, not dragonhide color.
Even if a Metal Dragon committed atrocities, he would unsheathe against it.
Conversely, if a Chromatic Dragon did not rule by trampling life and order, he bore it no automatic hatred.
Years as an adventurer taught a deep truth: one should judge an intelligent being’s morality by actions, not by race or blood.
Nevertheless, Count Millsbury’s favors were real and weighty.
That helping hand in dire times and moments of crucial shelter formed the bedrock of Shire’s path. Repaying a benefactor was a knight’s foundation.
To simply disregard the Count’s commission because the facts differed from the Count’s description would violate his principle of returning kindness.
After much thought and weighing,
the Flower Knight decided to linger in Ximu Town rather than act immediately.
Perhaps this temporary peace was a carefully contrived illusion,
a trap designed to confuse would-be avengers and men of justice?
He didn’t mind settling here like a true resident to observe patiently—watch every move, hear every word—delve into the town’s texture and see its essence.
If in time he uncovered evidence of the Molten Iron Tribe’s hidden malevolence, oppression, or real threat to the surroundings, he would unhesitatingly perform his knightly duty and strike with overwhelming force.
"The Count’s private troops should be arriving soon."
"Perfect—I can use that chance to see for myself just how strong the dragon ruling the Molten Iron Tribe really is."
Shire thought. Whether future events led to war or peace, assault or another plan, learning the true power tier of the local dragon—especially the one called Death's Harbinger and Wings of the Skyrend—was crucial for his next moves.
Moreover, Count Millsbury’s private force would serve as cover and diversion.
Through the Count he had learned their intended attack route and approximate timing.
Soon it was three days later.
At this critical period while the Molten Iron Tribe continued rooting itself here, Garoth still remained stationed at Needleleaf Valley and had not returned to the convergence lands.
With his current terrifying speed,
if any trouble erupted near the Serpentine Earth Rift, he could rush to assist at a moment’s notice.
Right now, Garoth’s body shimmered with dazzling golden lightning—he had activated Frenzied State. Yet his breathing was steady and calm, as if the state imposed only a trivial burden.
"When I officially step into youth phase, maintaining Frenzied State should become as easy as breathing," Garoth silently calculated.
At present, Frenzied State did not consume him severely; he could hold it for a long time, but he had not yet reached the point where it would become an instinctive, effortless presence.
He inhaled the valley’s cold, crisp air; the raging golden electric serpents dancing over his body receded like a tide and sank beneath heavy scales until they vanished.
Almost simultaneously, a composed voice echoed through his mind—iron dragon Sorog’s measured telepathic link.
"Detecting a human army’s traces about fifty kilometers from the Serpentine Earth Rift’s outer defenses."
"They’re not small. Their direction points straight to the Serpentine Earth Rift, and their gear bears the Albert family’s crest on armor and banners."
What comes will come.
The Albert family indeed could not watch their territory remain occupied by the Molten Iron Tribe and had dispatched a private force to fight for it.
Garoth briefly considered, then replied calmly.
"Keep the battlefield outside the Serpentine Earth Rift. I don’t want the Molten Iron Tribe’s domain dragged into this. Ready the followers to meet them."
To stake a firm wedge on the wilderness fringe and pave the way for larger advances, the Molten Iron Tribe’s vanguard sent here was no weak contingent.
Beyond powerful monster lieutenants, three wild beast lords earlier subdued in the convergence lands now rested in Crescent Valley—where the werewolf clan had once settled—sharpening teeth and talons, waiting for the call to war.
A horde of ferocious followers had been kept for a reason—not merely to consume rations in vain.
Now they could prove their worth, exchange battlefield deeds for glory and reward.
"Understood! Those reckless humans are doomed—this wilderness will be their final grave."
The mental link cut. The iron dragon had clearly begun mobilizing and sharpening arms.
Bathed in the cold, clear moonlight, Garoth lifted his head and gazed toward distant peaks; a thoughtful gleam flashed in his pupils.
The Count’s private force had been spotted far too quickly—like marching through the wilderness holding torches, utterly unhidden.
Normally, regardless of whether they’d been detected by hidden scouts, a covert surprise strike’s effect always surpassed open frontal assault.
Garoth didn’t believe a human count would be so honorable as to insist on a fair, open duel.
Beyond the visible troop,
a more dangerous, deadlier hidden blade might lie in wait.
Perhaps Garoth was being paranoid, but caution had long been his habit and a key factor in his survival and growth—he never ignored potential danger.
However,
given the Count’s acumen, it was hard to imagine that in twenty years he had transformed from the young dragon who once wasn’t very sharp into the Convergence Lands King without resorting to cunning measures; his danger level—whether overt or covert—was probably not extreme.
If it weren’t happening to him, Garoth himself might not have believed it.
"My dormancy period always far exceeds the norm... moving this body won’t hurt for now."
Decision forming, the red iron dragon ceased hesitating.
He spread his wings and shot into the clouds, his massive form swallowed by the night.
Note: There is a "Eternal Dragon" title event in the book club you can join. Also, I’ll try to finish the battle chapter in one go tomorrow.