Chapter 374: The Mad King is dead, and the territory should rightfully be inherited by me!
Chapter 374: The Mad King is dead, and the territory should rightfully be inherited by me!
Chapter 374 The Mad King Is Dead, His Territory Rightfully Belongs to Me!
Under the oppressive, almost tangible pressure emanating from the red iron dragon, the blue dragon Zoraya felt her mind go blank; every thought froze, not a single word could escape her lips.
She felt as if an invisible razor claw had seized her throat and was slowly tightening.
The breath of death pressed so close it felt like the next second would swallow her whole.
Launch a desperate counterattack?
The thought flickered in Zoraya’s mind and was immediately rejected by reflex.
She was absolutely certain that any form of resistance in this state would only make her die sooner and more miserably.
At that moment, the suffocating dragon might suddenly retracted, vanishing without a trace.
Zoraya’s limbs went weak and she nearly collapsed; she gulped air and stared at the red iron dragon with palpable fear.
Garoth acted as if nothing had happened, his tone returning to its previous calm as he ordered, “Contact your father.”Confusion and unease filled Zoraya’s heart; she could not fathom the Molten Iron Lord’s intention at all.
She hesitated for a few seconds, but under his calm, indisputable gaze she dared not show any sloth.
She nodded silently, reached beneath a patch of her scales, and produced a strangely shaped alchemical communicator resembling a dragon scale.
Zzzzt—!
As she injected a flash of magical energy, thin blue arcs leapt across the device’s surface and sigils lit up in sequence.
Far away, in the central region of the Ser Wilderness, lay the territory of the Dominik Dragon Cluster.
The blue dragon leader, Perest, Heart of Thunder, had just finished ravenously siphoning the surrounding stormcloud energy.
The clouds above that area were still thick, but not a single bolt of lightning flashed.
White arcs of electricity still leaped intermittently over his deep-blue, powerful body, as if the whole dragon had become a draconic thunderstorm.
Now he lay prostrate atop a jagged cliff with a clear view of the surroundings.
Around him were piles of flesh and energy-laden ores.
Like Garoth after ending his slumber, Perest was replenishing the energy and materials he had consumed during sleep by voraciously feeding.
Thanks to abundant experience with long rest, his recovery speed was extremely rapid.
His aura had become very steady, deep and powerful, far surpassing an ordinary mature adult blue dragon.
Suddenly.
He paused in mid-rend, as if sensing something.
The blue dragon leader smoothly drew a similarly patterned dragon-scale alchemical device from beneath the heavy scales at his neck.
Within the Dominik Dragon Cluster, there was a dragon who specialized in alchemy; this device was one of their crafted communication tools for intra-cluster contact.
“She did not die in the Lord of Molten Iron’s territory...”
Perest’s gaze flickered slightly.
After hearing rumors about the Molten Iron King, he had mentally labeled him a cruel and vicious dragon.
Sending Zoraya under the pretext of negotiating also harbored a hidden hope: to use others’ blades to kill a rising power who might threaten his own rule.
Zoraya had always shown him utmost respect, even worship; talented and reliable, she could be a pillar.
Yet when Perest had awakened, among the many dragons who greeted him and reported the cluster’s situation, only Zoraya had been able to present everything clearly and comprehensively.
All the other dragons seemed to accept her as the primary spokesperson.
Only one impulsive red dragon had rudely interjected a few heedless words.
That subtle sign meant that during his slumber, Zoraya had quietly built considerable prestige by managing cluster affairs, even earning some degree of trust from other members.
Although she handled cluster matters with precision and maintained a respectful trust toward him—just like her late mother—Perest would never tolerate even the slightest possibility of any dragon, even a direct descendant, challenging his absolute rule.
After waking, he still had a long time before his next lengthy slumber.
He no longer needed Zoraya as the main pillar of combat and management.
Thus, murderous intent quietly took root.
However, he could not strike Zoraya without cause; that would spark suspicion and unrest among other dragons, severely damaging his rule.
There were many opportunities...
Perest suppressed the rising killing intent and activated the alchemical device.
“Greetings, leader of the Dominik Dragon Cluster.”
A voice that sounded calm yet barely suppressing a breath came through the device, “Some wise beings call me the Lord of Molten Iron, and I am also the head of the Ignas Dragon Cluster.”
The other party paused, then continued, “I heard you might have something to discuss with me.”
Perest’s expression instantly turned serious, his voice deepening, “Lord of Molten Iron, I do indeed have matters to consult.”
“I have heard your Ignas cluster harbors several traitors who betrayed my flock.”
Garoth’s voice remained steady, “Oh, that is the case.”
“Hriam, Kahir, Ludwig, Seraphina... those four explicitly told me they came from a blue dragon cluster called Dominik.”
“Yet, in my memory, your cluster’s traditional territory was coastal, beside the Boiling Sea.”
“I assumed that deep in the inland wilderness I would not encounter members of your cluster. But the present circumstances do not match my understanding.”
The red iron dragon asked politely, “Could you resolve this doubt for me?”
“Tell me why you would abandon a long-held coastal territory and trek across mountains and deserts to settle in the wilderness.”
The wilderness does indeed hold opportunities now, but dangers grew alongside them.
Normally a mature dragon cluster would not abandon cultivated lands unless forced.
From Zoraya’s earlier reports, Garoth speculated that the Dominik cluster’s migration might relate to those storm giants she mentioned.
Perest fell silent for a few seconds.
The question touched on topics he preferred not to reveal.
“To seek broader development space.”
He finally answered in a slightly stiff tone, “I grew weary of the monotonous sea landscape and the same enemies and conflicts, so I made a strategic choice to turn the cluster’s future toward this wilderness full of possibilities.”
It was a polished lie.
He could not candidly admit that the Dominik cluster had retreated after repeated defeats against the storm giants along the coast, suffering heavy losses and unable to maintain their ancestral lands, forcing them to migrate to the wilderness in humiliation.
After the perfunctory gloss, Perest steered the conversation back with a firmer tone.
“No orderly, dignified cluster can tolerate traitors. Rules are the bedrock that maintains our unity and strength—paramount.”
His voice rolled like thunder brewing in stormclouds, “You and I, as dragon cluster leaders, should understand this and know my resolute determination to punish traitors.”
Garoth did not cower before that aura.
He asked, “According to your cluster’s rules, how are those traitors usually punished?”
Perest responded decisively, each word struck like a hammer, “Public execution!”
“In full view of the entire cluster, a bloody execution that will shock any who harbor treason in their hearts!”
“Only the traitors’ blood can purge the shame they brought and uphold the dignity of the rules.”
Garoth shook his head slightly at those words, “It sounds like there is no room for leniency.”
Perest’s stance was unusually unyielding, leaving no space for negotiation.
“Of course, traitors must die! Without thunderous measures, others will gradually breed rebellion.”
“We must make every dragon understand clearly that betrayal brings a bitter price.”
Across from him, Garoth was silent for a few seconds, then, with a hint of amusement, he countered, “Why not first examine your own problems?”
He chuckled softly; his voice transmitted through the alchemical device, “Is there a possibility that your cluster’s management methods themselves contain flaws that led to young members’ betrayal?”
When he first took in Hriam and the others, Garoth had already learned the Dominik cluster’s governance model.
It was a pyramid structure from the top down, maintained by absolute pressure and ruthless exploitation.
Nearly all dragons below youth phase lived like slaves within the clan, forced into unconditional obedience and sacrifice.
Only upon reaching youth phase could one barely earn the right to exploit younger kin, while still suffering exploitation from older, stronger dragons.
This model might appeal to White Dragon Trixie—very much in line with her ecological niche theory.
But everything had limits; excess breeds backlash.
To Garoth, the Dominik cluster had long been riddled with problems and hidden resentments.
Young dragons choosing betrayal and Zoraya developing parricidal thoughts were, in a sense, inevitable results of such a distorted system.
There was another crucial factor:
Perest was not “strong enough.”
More precisely, he had not instilled an absolute sense of invincibility and worship in every cluster member.
Others might fear his might, but deep down they would still breed ambitions of “I could replace him.”
Under Garoth’s rule over the Ignas cluster and the Molten Iron Tribe, nearly every great dragon and follower placed near-blind trust in him, believing the dragon king to be omnipotent.
Even when setbacks occurred, they trusted he would recover everything.
Even when Garoth claimed he could slay a legendary or confront one, his followers believed him and were willing to follow him into fire.
Furthermore, Garoth practiced a clear path of shared benefits.
Dragons who followed him genuinely enjoyed development dividends; contribution matched reward, and often exceeded expectation.
“I know better than anyone how to manage a dragon cluster. This is not something for other dragons to meddle with.”
Perest cut Garoth off with a stiff interruption.
“The problem we must resolve concerns those traitors.”
He steered the topic back, his voice growing lower, “Hand over the four traitors: Hriam, Kahir, Ludwig, Seraphina—four adult dragons. I will pay you gold equal to their combined weight as reward for returning them.”
When the Dominik cluster held coastal lands, they had discovered and controlled a giant gold mine; they were hardly short of those yellow metals.
Frankly, the price Perest offered was tempting to many profit-driven and greedy dragons and might win immediate agreement.
But Garoth was not short-sighted.
He ruled not only by might but also by the charisma that earned his followers’ trust and devotion.
If he readily surrendered his members for a pile of gold and allowed another cluster to publicly execute them, how would his other followers perceive him?
How would those dragons who swore fealty react?
Their trust and loyalty would suffer irreparable cracks.
“The so-called traitors you speak of are, in my eyes, merely miserable young dragons forced to flee cruel conditions to seek a sliver of survival.”
Garoth’s tone held little fluctuation.
He continued, “In consideration that your cluster sheltered some of my subordinates for a time, I can offer compensation.”
He proposed his plan: “Accept the compensation and consider the matter resolved.”
“Afterward, our two clusters could sit down and discuss forming an alliance to jointly exploit the wilderness’s abundant resources. What do you say to that?”
Perest did not hesitate.
“We can consider an alliance.”
“But before that, the execution of traitors is a necessary precondition; rules are rules, and this is non-negotiable.”
His attitude was inflexible.
He paused, then added, “Four inconsequential adolescent dragons—are they truly important to your Ignas cluster?”
“Hand them over.”
“This will cause you no significant loss, gain you a handsome sum of gold, and the friendship—my friendship—of the Dominik cluster.”
Garoth shook his head.
“My stance on this is the same as yours were a moment ago—no negotiation.”
At his core, he too was an unyielding dragon leader.
Any temporary patience or concession was a pragmatic measure forced by a real gap in absolute strength.
Perest, powerful though he was, had not yet grown so strong that Garoth felt compelled to yield.
Crack!
On the other side, the blue dragon leader’s expression remained blank; currents of electricity around his claws spiraled wildly and surged out of control.
The alchemical device could not withstand it; hairline cracks spidered across its surface, and with a faint explosive pop it shattered into dust.
At the same time,
the device before Garoth also dimmed to dullness.
The conversation between them came to an abrupt halt.
Negotiations that concerned the fate of four young dragons and the future relationship between two great clusters ended in discord.
Throughout the discussion, Zoraya had silently listened nearby, holding her breath, her emotions roiling.
As the dialogue continued, she was surprised to find that the feared Lord of Molten Iron did not report her nor use her as a bargaining chip.
This left her both baffled and faintly hopeful.
“Your father, Perest, Heart of Thunder, does he have any unknown weakness or habitual flaw in combat?”
While Zoraya was lost in anxious speculation, the red iron dragon’s deep voice suddenly whispered in her ear.
Despite not having explicitly agreed to her suggestion, Zoraya, almost without hesitation, revealed everything she knew about her father.
She disclosed his typical opening maneuvers, favored skills, slight sluggishness that appears in prolonged combat, hidden trump cards he had once shown, and certain habits he might not even be aware of.
She left nothing out.
After a while of thought,
Garoth turned to Zoraya and said, “You may leave. Return to your Dominik cluster.”
Hesitation and unease showed across Zoraya’s draconic features.
She could not help but ask, “What do you want me to do when I return?”
Garoth’s gaze swept over her, “Do whatever you want. Whatever you wish to do, go do it.”
The uncertain answer paradoxically fanned the embers of hope in Zoraya’s heart.
She nodded heavily, as if understanding something, then slowly backed away, beating her wide sky-blue wings to lift off.
She ascended and dissolved into the black night and the falling snow, flying back in the direction she had come.
Cold, fierce wind blasted at high altitude.
Zoraya glanced back once more at the imposing draconic silhouette.
She felt more keenly the Molten Iron Lord’s strength and majesty, yet also his inscrutable depth.
At the valley floor of Dragon Valley,
the red iron dragon watched Zoraya’s silhouette shrink until it vanished beneath the distant horizon.
“If the Dominik cluster could be brought under control, perhaps the Molten Iron Tribe could advance even further,” he mused.
Other regional sovereigns did not believe the Molten Iron Lord would be content after consolidating the northwest region and simply maintain the status quo.
They were right.
Garoth yearned to reach the legendary realm faster, or at least to push his life level to the peak of level 20 as soon as possible.
This required not only bloodline and talent but also massive resources.
He had initially chosen to consolidate his domain because he lacked manpower; expansion without control would be counterproductive. But when conditions were ripe and opportunities presented, Garoth would gladly see his territory widen and his resource base strengthen.
At minimum, he intended to seize the unclaimed central region of the wilderness.
Now that the mad king was dead, the lands he once ravaged should rightfully be inherited by Garoth’s descendants.
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