novelraw Chapter 360: I Need to Destroy Something
Chapter 360: I Need to Destroy Something
The rainy season in the Ser Wilderness was nearing its end, but the wind and snow in the convergence lands seemed endless.
The cold northern wind whipped up dense snowflakes, dancing wildly under the lead-gray sky, draping the entire convergence lands with a thick, heavy white curtain, leaving the world vast and indistinct.
Whoosh!
A crimson meteor abruptly pierced this white expanse, tearing through the wind and snow at an unbelievable speed, carving a scorching trail across the sky.
On the ground, guards at some outposts noticed this astonishing celestial phenomenon.
They were initially shocked and tense, but then, a widely circulated saying came to mind, and their gazes quickly transformed into deep awe and worship.
In the current convergence lands, many new-generation followers of Molten Iron had never laid eyes on their King in person.
However, one legend was deeply ingrained in their hearts.
When you see a mysterious crimson meteor tearing through the sky, it means the Lord of Molten Iron has descended.
At this moment, Garoth was flapping his wings at almost maximum speed.The surrounding scenery had blurred into smears of color in his eyes, his ears filled with the continuous explosive roars and sharp whistles of air being violently torn apart.
His dragon eyes were densely lined with bloodshot veins; his expression remained calm, but his heart was filled with uncontrollable irritation and brutality.
The burning sensation of the frenzied flame never ceased.
The suppression earlier on the battlefield had merely temporarily forced the flames down, and this forced repression not only failed to diminish their intensity but, like blocking a volcano's vent, caused the internal pressure to continuously accumulate, growing increasingly violent.
"Where does this frenzied flame truly originate? It's far more potent than a lich's death curse."
Garoth shook his heavy head, trying to untangle the origin of the frenzied flame amidst his chaotic thoughts.
However, his mind was currently a tangled mess, his head filled with the noise of raging fury, making effective thought impossible. He simply temporarily set this difficult problem aside, planning to investigate it later when his mind was more peaceful.
Right now, thinking was not the top priority.
"I need to destroy something, I need to vent."
This thought uncontrollably occupied his mind.
For a moment, he felt a sliver of understanding towards the Red Dragon Gorthax's past acts of frenzied destruction.
Rage was like a surging tide; merely blocking it would eventually lead to a breach.
Continuously forcing it down would only allow it to completely shatter the dam of reason at a certain critical point. By then, even he couldn't predict what unspeakable things he might do.
He had to perform controlled releases when the rage accumulated to a certain level, then re-enter the cycle of suppression and adaptation.
This could buy him time to gradually adapt to the frenzied flame.
"If I ultimately cannot master the negative effects of this frenzied flame, then even if I kill Gorthax, the Mad King has not truly perished."
The red iron dragon took a deep breath of air, thinking: "He will be reborn within me. I will become the new Mad King."
This thought strengthened his resolve to adapt and master the frenzied flame.
As time passed, the bloodshot redness in his eyes grew increasingly dense, almost seeming to drip blood.
Roasted by brutality and irritation, Garoth struggled to maintain a sliver of clarity, quickly determining his current target for venting.
A few minutes later.
Looking down from high altitude, the vast Fertile Plains were completely blanketed in snow, presenting a scene of silvery white splendor.
However, within this pure white canvas, an ugly fissure, like a scar upon the earth, stubbornly remained.
No matter how heavily the snow fell, it could not completely conceal it. Instead, all wind and snow approaching the fissure were twisted and assimilated by an invisible force, stained with a similarly gloomy hue.
— The Abyssal Rift.
Surrounding this gateway to the chaotic Abyss, outposts equipped with ferocious alchemical heavy cannons stood like a forest of steel. Elite centaur warriors, tall ogres, cold iron golems, agile serpentfolk warriors... various guards of the Molten Iron Tribe patrolled the perimeter with strict vigilance.
Unlike guards elsewhere.
Most of the warriors here bore black-purple demonic patterns branded on their bodies, emanating a unique aura mixing coldness and power.
These were the Corrupted Guards.
Engaged in the most brutal combat against Abyssal demons at the edge of the rift year-round, constantly exposed to the ubiquitous Abyssal aura and splattered demon blood, some guards' bodies underwent irreversible mutations.
Individuals who couldn't withstand the mutation and lost control had been purged.
Those who remained were all battle-hardened elites with wills as strong as rock and strength far surpassing their peers.
Their numbers might be few, but they had become a hidden elite force of the Molten Iron Tribe. If deployed on future battlefields, they would undoubtedly bring unexpected surprises to the enemy.
The leader of the followers stationed here was the half-elf centaur Elvy.
She had just commanded the repulsion of a small-scale demon wave and was quietly wiping the warm demon blood from her longsword. Her beautiful and divine face was covered with a layer of cold, solemn intensity.
At her feet lay the scattered corpses of demons.
The surrounding followers were skillfully and efficiently carrying out battlefield cleanup; everything appeared orderly, as if what had just ended was merely a routine drill.
However, at that moment.
The familiar tremor once again traveled through the ground beneath their feet.
Elvy's gaze sharpened instantly like a hawk's, locking onto the direction of the rift.
A cacophony of chaotic, malevolent shrieks and roars surged forth from it.
The Abyssal aura, thick as fog, churned violently. Then, twisted demonic figures emitting evil auras appeared, squeezing into the Material Plane from the rift in a continuous stream.
The moment they landed, following their evil instincts, they launched a frenzied charge towards the surroundings.
One wave had just subsided, another arose.
The guards, accustomed to these intermittent demon wave assaults, showed not a trace of panic.
Hum—!
The engines of steel-cast alchemical golems emitted low growls.
Deep, dark cannon barrels uniformly turned, coldly locking onto the area around the rift.
They waited only for the demons to charge out beyond the safe distance, to avoid artillery fire affecting the rift itself. Then, a deadly storm of artillery would cleanse the land, followed by the merciless slaughter by the alchemical golems and Molten Iron guards.
Yet, at the very moment before the first volley was about to roar.
That crimson meteor symbolizing royal authority tore through the layers of wind and snow, descending from the heavens like divine punishment at a speed surpassing mortal visual capture limits.
"All guards, fall back immediately!"
A dragon's roar, thick as thunder, rolled across the land.
Confirming it was the Lord of Molten Iron himself, all followers hesitated not a bit, immediately obeying the order and rapidly withdrawing, moving away from their respective posts, allowing those demons to surge out like a tide.
But there was no tension on their faces; instead, they relaxed completely, as if all threats were insignificant.
Boom!
The earth groaned in pain.
A terrifying shockwave, carrying snow, spread outwards like a white tsunami.
Centered on the red iron dragon's landing point, the surrounding ground instantly collapsed and cracked. Whether weaker quasits or ferocious-looking demon leaders, all were instantly turned into splattered flesh paste and filthy blood under the powerful impact.
This terrifying scene did not frighten back the chaotic demons.
For these chaotic evil creatures, death wasn't particularly fearsome.
They surged out from the rift endlessly, like an infinite swarm of ants, trampling over the bones of their kin, madly pouncing toward the target in the center emitting a powerful life force.
This scene, like moths to a flame, stirred a contradictory emotion within Garoth.
On one hand, furious at these ants daring to challenge him; on the other, a twisted delight at having enough targets to freely destroy, to satisfy his urgent need for release.
He no longer suppressed anything, allowing the blood-red in his eyes to glow brightly like magma. The pent-up rage, like floodwaters finding a breach, poured forth.
His claws tore through the air with piercing shrieks, each swipe bisecting several demons; his wings, like two indestructible giant blades, cleared large areas with each extension; his thick, steel-whip-like tail sent demons flying and smashing apart like bowling balls with every sweep.
Every part of his body had become the most efficient killing weapon.
Centered on him, a radius of dozens of meters became a vortex of death. Severed limbs, broken carapaces, and stinking filth flew everywhere, staining the pure white snowfield into a mess.
His massive body twisted and turned.
Wherever he passed, demons fell in swathes like harvested crops, their lives as cheap as grass.
"The Dragon Lord's condition... seems somewhat abnormal."
Elvy watched intently the dragon figure slaughtering wildly within the demon horde. Her first reaction was even to doubt if this was truly Garoth himself.
But that unique fighting style couldn't be faked.
It was just that the King now seemed more brutal and ferocious than ever before.
Moreover, those shocking, enormous wounds on his body, some still seeping blood, clearly indicated the intensity of the battle he had previously endured.
Elvy didn't know the specific reason.
But she was extremely tactful, leading the guards to withdraw further, completely without intending to approach, inquire, or disturb.
The red iron dragon abruptly spun around swiftly. His wings, spread to their limit, and his tail, taut like a fully drawn bow, instantly swept across the battlefield, completely clearing a wide area of demons as if mowing grass.
After several minutes of such efficient and cruel slaughter, his movements suddenly stopped.
Not because the pent-up rage was fully satisfied, but because within his line of sight, the ground was already covered with a thick, layered carpet of demon corpses. For the moment, there wasn't a single standing living creature to be found nearby.
"Not enough! Far from enough!"
Garoth irritably scraped at a large demon head with his claw, pacing anxiously back and forth on the spot.
His blood-red eyes involuntarily turned towards the guards standing ready in the distance, especially Elvy at their head.
Once the floodgates of rage were opened for release, if not released to a certain critical point, it became even harder to control than when fully suppressed.
Under the gaze of those blood pupils filled with madness and destructive desire, Elvy instantly felt as if she had fallen into an icy abyss, as if the scythe of death was already resting against her neck.
After pausing for just a second.
The red iron dragon suddenly took a deep breath, forcibly turned his gaze, and focused his attention on that Abyssal Rift continuously spewing forth demons!
He raised his head and let out a earth-shaking dragon roar, his great maw opening wide.
Blazing Flame Thunder breath surged from his mouth, striking directly onto the Abyssal Rift.
Boom! Rumble! Rumble!
Violent explosions deafened the ears, thunder and flames danced wildly, the earth roared as it continuously collapsed and cracked.
Under the impact of the dragon breath, the Abyssal Rift was torn and expanded inch by inch.
But this did not eliminate it; instead, even denser, more evil Abyssal aura surged forth from within.
Unless specific methods were used, most brute force attacks would only achieve the opposite effect, expanding the rift.
And this was precisely what Garoth, affected by the frenzied flame, desired at this moment.
More enemies, more satisfying slaughter!
As for the potential long-term troubles this might bring... with his mind currently filled with furious foolishness, he had no time to consider such things.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
The ground trembled again, more violently than before.
From the expanded rift, the number of emerging demons suddenly increased, and their average strength noticeably improved. Among them appeared many elite leaders with life levels around 15.
"The Material Plane! Ah! Delicious flesh, savory souls!"
The newly appeared powerful demons excitedly roared.
But the next moment, an even more savage, more excited dragon roar completely drowned out their clamor.
The red iron dragon charged into the flock like a hungry tiger among sheep.
With a savage and seemingly tireless demeanor, he once again embarked on an even bloodier slaughter.
Although this wave of demons was stronger, before Garoth in his furious state, there still remained a difficult-to-surmount gap.
It was worth noting that Garoth, even in his rage, retained a sliver of reason. He had expanded the rift, yet controlled the degree of expansion within a certain limit, not completely opening the door to disaster.
"Escape! Quickly flee back to the Abyss!"
"Don't come over here! This is a trap!"
"There's an evil dragon more terrifying than demons! The Material Plane is too terrifying!"
As time passed, the few demons possessing higher intelligence, who understood the meaning of fear, were finally scared out of their wits by this one-sided massacre.
They discarded their armor, madly charging towards the rift, only wanting to escape back to the relatively safe Abyss.
However, at that moment, a foul wind swept past.
The red iron dragon's ferocious and menacing figure appeared swiftly at the edge of the rift.
He was chewing on a spider demon leader that was still emitting sharp, pitiful wails. He grinned towards those attempting to flee, a smile more terrifying and hideous than any Abyssal demon.
"Since you've come, you might as well all stay."
He swallowed the almost crushed demon remains in his mouth whole, emitting a low, suppressed roar.
Immediately, a new round of slaughter commenced once more.
Sometime later, the area around the rift was truly a river of blood, with broken demon corpses piled up like mountains.
The red iron dragon stood at the center of this mountain of corpses and sea of blood, his majestic body covered in thick grime of blood. Even the finest gaps between his scales continuously dripped a viscous liquid mixed with his own dragon blood and demon filth.
Simultaneously.
That suffocating aura of violence and ferocity surrounding him began to recede slowly, like a tide.
As the pent-up rage found sufficient release, the blood-red color in Garoth's eyes gradually faded, his gaze regaining its former clarity and depth.
Huff! Huff! Huff!
His chest heaved violently, his breathing heavy like bellows. A strong sense of fatigue and waves of dizziness assaulted him.
"Damn it... what have I done just now?"
Garoth, now clear-headed, recalled his previous actions and found them utterly foolish.
He had just endured a fierce battle with the Red Dragon Father Gorthax; his physical condition was at an unprecedented low, his Dragon Pearl energy dim and in urgent need of replenishment.
Right now, what he needed most was quiet rest and the intake of large amounts of high-quality energy to recover from his injuries and replenish the reserves for his second life.
Not dragging his battered body into a pointless battle like this, which only aggravated his wounds.
Demons were not helpless ants to be slaughtered; their numbers and quality had worsened Garoth's already serious injuries. Most foolishly, actively expanding the Abyssal Rift to satisfy his killing desire was truly drinking poison to quench thirst—a decision he would never make in his normal state.
What if it attracted overly powerful Abyssal demons? In his current state, the consequences would be unthinkable.
"Before fully adapting to the frenzied flame, regularly releasing the pent-up rage is necessary. But it must be done while retaining a significant degree of reason. Otherwise, it will be like this time, creating endless future troubles."
Reason regained the upper hand. Garoth quickly reflected and began formulating countermeasures.
"I need an early warning mechanism to alert me when I'm about to lose control. This might help me reclaim some rationality."
Taking advantage of this relatively clearest moment, his mind worked rapidly, planning various strategies for himself to cope with the frenzied flame's influence.
Furthermore.
Regardless of whether the frenzied flame had other effects, just this characteristic of greatly interfering with reason and inciting rage, if he could later master it and turn it to his own use, might become an unexpected trump card, a killer move in certain specific situations.
"The more powerful the side effect, the harder it is to control, meaning its potential value is also higher. If I can fully adapt and master it, the benefits I gain will undoubtedly exceed imagination."
Garoth took deep breaths, contemplating the positive aspects.
At this point, the centaur Elvy cautiously approached the red iron dragon and bowed in salute: "Dragon Lord, your condition... seems somewhat abnormal."
"Might there be anything I can do to share your burden?"
Garoth looked at this follower and said solemnly, "Today's events are just the beginning."
"For a period in the future, I may come here frequently to release the uncontrollable violent fury."
"During this time, I might make some irrational moves, such as attempting to expand the rift again."
"Elvy, your task is to promptly remind me when I am about to lose control."
"This is an extremely dangerous mission, but I believe you are capable of fulfilling it."
Garoth noted that Elvy's life level had reached 17, and her bloodline was extraordinary. Unless he lost control to the point of activating the Crimson Lotus Form, she should be able to withstand one blow without perishing.
And even if he lost control, instinctively, he wouldn't easily resort to that ultimate form.
Elvy's expression turned solemn, deeply aware of the arduousness and importance of the responsibility she now bore.
"Please rest assured, Dragon Lord."
"I will spare no effort and absolutely not disappoint your trust."
She said.
Afterwards, Garoth gave a few more simple instructions, then beat his wings and flew towards the direction of Dragon Valley.
He was in extreme need of energy replenishment and ample rest now.
On the other hand, the influence of the frenzied flame was primarily on the mental level. Perhaps, lighthearted play with the brass-silver dragon Deborah, or the playful antics of the faerie dragon Vira, could alleviate his inner restlessness to some extent.
Just as Garoth was flying towards Dragon Valley.
Far away in the Boiling Sea.
With a high-pitched, far-reaching dragon cry, a huge and enclosed domain gradually dissipated like a bubble, revealing the vast, boundless sea beneath and the numerous islands dotting the sea surface like stars.
Between the islands, the waves were turbulent, the undercurrents swift, presenting a scene both vibrant with life and fraught with danger.
The Raging Tides Dragon Domain—an important territory under the jurisdiction of the Bronze Dragon King for metallic dragons.
Simultaneously, this was also the birthplace of the Silver Dragon Vendrian and the Brass Dragon Serena.
The decades-long seclusion period had finally ended. Groups of metallic dragons excitedly soared freely between sea and sky, stretching their long-awaited wings.
Many figures flew directly toward directions far from the dragon domain, eager to explore the changes outside; many others still circled and swept through the familiar airspace within the dragon domain, enjoying their current freedom.
However, the expressions of the vast majority of metallic dragons were not relaxed; on the contrary, they could even be described as heavy.