Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 484: The Birth of an Offspring

"Pleasant cooperation. This will be a win-win situation for Aola and the Helmod Dragonflight."

The spherical communication token, wreathed in fine crackles of electricity, hovered in mid-air. The Red Iron Dragon gazed at it quietly and spoke.

Only a few days had passed since Kaelzorg's departure, and the response from the Helmod Dragonflight had already arrived.

The result was exactly as Garoth had anticipated.

Those Blue Dragons entrenched in the distant Boiling Sea, after internal discussions, had ultimately agreed to the covert cooperation, no longer stubbornly insisting on a formal alliance treaty and recognition.

The great dragons chose a handshake in the shadows, not an oath under the sun.

"Blue Dragons... natural pursuers of profit."

"When dealing with elves, humans, or even other dragon species, they can always restrain their innate arrogance and destructive urges better than their other five-colored kin, placing pros and cons before emotions. This is their advantage."

Garoth thought quietly.

"But cooperating with such beings... is essentially like making a pact with a tiger.""Who ultimately becomes the hunter and who ends up as the prey depends on each party's methods. The thoughts of the Helmod Dragonflight's leaders are probably no different from mine."

Gathering his swirling thoughts, Garoth raised his draconic head and inquired in a steady voice to the lightning sphere, "When does the Helmod Dragonflight plan to make landfall?"

After a brief silence within the token, Kaelzorg's voice sounded.

"Soon. For us, it is not a long wait... approximately, one hundred years later."

Garoth fell silent for a moment.

One hundred years? Soon?

This span of time was enough for him to undergo a complete sleep cycle, steadily advancing from an adult dragon into the prime phase, allowing his power to undergo a qualitative leap.

He shook his head slightly, then realized there was no problem with this.

A dragon's perception of time was completely different from that of short-lived species. And for those Ancient Dragons and Ancient Dragons who had survived for vast ages, their perception of time was also different from other dragons.

"This is just as well."

"A hundred years from now, I will possess a more solid foundation and power. By then, facing the Helmod Dragonflight, my confidence will be a few points stronger."

Garoth pondered in his heart.

He deeply understood that ordinary Ancient Blue Dragons, due to their slow growth, might not necessarily have extremely high life levels. But those capable of becoming masters of a dragonflight, leaders who had stirred up trouble for years in the perilous Boiling Sea, were anything but ordinary.

Dragons of this kind inherently possessed high talent and enjoyed vast resources.

Their strength often far surpassed that of other dragons of the same age group.

The three leaders of the Helmod Dragonflight, each one, required careful handling. Under no circumstances could he let his guard down.

"I will wait and see."

Garoth responded in a deep voice, then shifted the topic, making a request, "However, since the cooperation has been finalized, I need to speak directly with the leaders of the Helmod Dragonflight, rather than always relaying messages through a single envoy."

"This will help us establish more direct understanding and trust."

From the other side of the lightning sphere, Kaelzorg's voice was respectful and steady, "Your Majesty, I apologize for this."

"All three leaders are currently... inconvenienced for direct communication. Please understand, having me be responsible for communicating with you is by no means a sign of disrespect towards you. It is the best choice made based on considerations of efficiency."

Inconvenienced?

Combined with the hundred-year timeframe... Were they undergoing crucial slumber to break through a bottleneck?

Or were they in some hidden location not easily reachable by external communication, or perhaps dealing with some troublesome matters?

The Red Iron Dragon did not voice his speculations.

He was not unreasonable. Sometimes, pressing for details would only damage the fragile tacit understanding just established.

"I understand." Garoth's tail gently swept across the ground behind him, stirring up a bit of dust. "Since that's the case, I won't insist. Keeping the communication channel open is sufficient."

"Thank you for your understanding and generosity."

Kaelzorg sounded relieved, his tone becoming slightly lighter. "Furthermore, to express our sincerity regarding this cooperation, three days from now, the Helmod Dragonflight will present a gift to the Aola Kingdom."

"May the flames of the Aola Kingdom never be extinguished."

As the words fell, the glow of the lightning sphere token rapidly dimmed, and the communication was cut.

Garoth put away the token and resumed his previous training.

Although the war with Theo had ended, Garoth's schedule in recent times had instead become increasingly packed, with almost no leisure time at all.

The growth of his power had never satisfied him; a sense of crisis always shadowed him.

Basic physical training and resistance training were daily compulsory lessons.

Besides these.

True Sight Eyes, Spell-Extinguishing Claws, Magic-Nullification Domain... These were the directions he currently focused on more, devoting a great deal of time to them.

Garoth never tired of it.

He could clearly feel his slow but steady progress on this path.

Time flowed quietly away amidst diligent tempering.

The three-day deadline arrived in the blink of an eye.

On this day, a piece of news arrived from the direction of the distant Boiling Sea. Through wind-speech, merchants, spies, and even magical communication, it rapidly swept across the nations of the Romanian Plains.

The Red Emperor, Garoth Ignas, descendant of evil dragons, actually kept company with hypocritical Metal Dragons. Moreover, the Aola Kingdom under his rule was in league with those lowly human nations.

Such actions were a complete betrayal of the evil dragon blood flowing within his veins and his own noble race.

In light of this, the Helmod Dragonflight officially declares war on the Aola Kingdom!

Henceforth, whenever Helmod dragons and their subordinate followers encounter dragons of Aola and its people, it will inevitably trigger a blood feud of life and death!

The wording was fierce, the stance clear.

The above was the general content of the news.

"A declaration of war... rather than pretending mutual ignorance. Hmm, this barely counts as a gift."

The Red Iron Dragon murmured to himself.

For the Helmod Dragonflight, the safest course would have been to completely ignore the Aola Kingdom, acting as if there had never been any contact or agreement, only cooperating secretly.

Now, with such a high-profile declaration of war, they would place themselves in a more conspicuous position, attracting more potential hostility.

In comparison, the image of the Aola Kingdom in the eyes of other nations could improve slightly.

The notoriously ferocious Helmod Blue Dragonflight viewing them as traitors and declaring war might better illustrate that the Aola Kingdom was trustworthy.

The reason for saying "barely" was because the Helmod Dragonflight was already notoriously fierce; they had many debts and didn't worry about one more.

Having an "enemy" like the Aola Kingdom had a negligible practical impact on them.

And the slight image benefit Aola gained from this was hardly a decisive chip in the complex game of the Romanian Plains.

Furthermore, the two nations were separated by vast territory; substantial conflict was fundamentally impossible.

Unless a large-scale war truly broke out in the future, this news would soon be forgotten by the nations, becoming an inconspicuous record in the archives.

Garoth stopped dwelling on it.

He shook his head, discarding distracting thoughts, and once again concentrated his spirit, immersing himself in the day-after-day, incredibly monotonous, yet rewarding self-tempering.

Time passed, seasons changed.

The snow on the Dragonback Mountains melted and accumulated again. The forest's color shifted from emerald green to golden yellow, then covered in silvery white.

This kingdom on the plains wrote its own history amidst the changing seasons.

New Calendar Year 346, July.

The exhausted Kingdom of Rybos and the dominant Lothrian Kingdom sat down at the negotiation table.

They began what was, for humans, a lengthy negotiation over a series of terms: the specific amount of war reparations, the scope and details of territorial cessions, trade, garrisoning, political privileges, and more.

This marked the beginning of the end for the Second War of the Nations on the Romanian Plains.

New Calendar Year 347, May.

With the powerful support of the Lothrian legions, the armies of the goblin kingdom Matna advanced with unstoppable force, finally breaching the last line of defense of the dwarf kingdom Cambruk.

The isolated and unaided Cambruk royal family was forced to announce surrender.

Like Rybos and Theo, it embarked on the humiliating path of post-defeat negotiations.

New Calendar Year 348, November.

The war between the Lyon and Sax Kingdoms, which had once belonged to the same ancient kingdom but split due to civil war, did not cease due to mediation from other major powers.

Historical grievances, territorial disputes, blood feuds between royal houses.

These drove the two nations to bleed themselves dry.

The war ended with a Pyrrhic victory for the Lyon Kingdom.

The Sax capital fell. Members of the royal family were all executed. Legendary powerhouses either died in battle, fled far away, or some chose to surrender to Lyon.

New Calendar Year 350, April.

As Rybos and Cambruk successively stamped their national seals and signed their names on the harsh terms of the defeat treaties, the Second War of the Romanian Nations, this conflict that had lasted a full nine years, finally officially drew to a close.

Aola, Lothrian, Matna, Lyon.

They were all on the list of victorious nations.

The ranks of the defeated included: Theo, Rybos, Cambruk, and the Sax Kingdom, which had already vanished from the map and become a historical term.

"Mien."

In the Dragonback Mountains, Garoth summoned the Heroic Spirit under his command.

This one, in life, had been a general of the Sax Kingdom, who had fallen during the earlier First Federation Civil War.

"I have news to tell you. Perhaps for you, it is not good news."

Garoth said, "The Sax Kingdom you served in life no longer exists. The Lyon Kingdom has achieved final victory."

Mien's body trembled abruptly, the light around him rippling with visible waves.

He was silent for several seconds, ultimately only emitting a faint, almost inaudible sigh.

"The people of Sax... have not truly disappeared."

Mien said, "They have merely... been incorporated into Lyon. We share the same bloodline, our cultures are similar; we were originally one nation split into two brotherly states."

The Red Iron Dragon's gaze focused slightly, his tail behind him swaying gently.

"I am aware of the shared history of Sax and Lyon."

Garoth said slowly, "But I am curious, based on your understanding of your homeland, how will those surviving people of Sax view the fact that their kingdom has been destroyed and swallowed by Lyon? Will they resist in anger, or... silently accept?"

The Heroic Spirit Mien fell into longer contemplation.

"Most people... will probably gradually accept."

He finally mused, "The languages, customs, festivals, many ancient traditions of the two nations were already nearly identical."

"Ordinary farmers, craftsmen, merchants—their focus in life is on survival and family, not on whose head wears the crown."

"Historical grievances resided more in the hearts of the nobility and military officers."

"Now victory and defeat are decided; the winner takes all. For most commoners, accepting the new rulers and continuing with their lives is the best choice."

He paused, then added, "Of course, resisters, nostalgics, those dreaming of restoring the kingdom will certainly exist. It's impossible for there to be none at all."

"But their numbers... I'm afraid will be far fewer than the scale of uprisings that normally occur after a nation's fall."

Garoth listened quietly, the vertical pupils of his eyes flickering with thoughtful light.

The war between Lyon and Sax, in its later stages, was not without external intervention.

As Lyon's ally, the Lothrian Kingdom had stepped in to mediate, attempting to get the two nations to cease hostilities.

But Lyon, blinded by bloodshed, did not adopt its ally's suggestion, and Sax stubbornly chose to fight to the bloody end until complete defeat.

"Lyon won the war, but at a terrible cost."

Garoth thought to himself, "Their gains were also immense: nearly doubled territory, the potential of integrated population and resources. If they can successfully digest it, Lyon's strength will experience a leap in the coming decades, even potentially challenging Lothrian's position within the alliance."

"But the prerequisite is... they can stabilize the situation."

Based on the Heroic Spirit Mien's speculations rooted in history and culture, Lyon's process of integrating Sax should have been relatively smooth, with limited scale of resistance, not much trouble, and should have proceeded very smoothly.

However, the intelligence Garoth possessed indicated the opposite was true in reality.

In the present Lyon Kingdom, in the former lands of Sax now under their control, resistance activities were emerging one after another. Restoration armies and guerrilla forces were sprouting like mushrooms after rain, wave after wave. Fires of conflict burned constantly across various regions, giving the already war-weakened, militarily exhausted Lyon royal family a massive headache. They were unable to recover from the war's trauma, let alone enjoy the fruits of victory.

This was completely different from the result Mien had predicted.

"The nations on the Romanian Plains were never simple allies and enemies."

Garoth's heart was as clear as a mirror.

Relations between the nations were complex and intricate. Even within the same camp, fierce competition and suspicion existed.

No nation wished to see an overly powerful neighbor suddenly rise beside them, even if that neighbor was currently an ally.

Aola itself was also in this category.

Although Garoth had not directly intervened in Lyon's affairs so far, he knew undercurrents were already stirring.

"If I had disregarded everything back then, forcibly annexing the entirety of Theo..."

Garoth couldn't help but recall the choice he made after breaching the Emerald Ridge Mountains.

"Never mind whether it would have triggered intervention from Lothrian or other forces midway. Even if successful, the internal turmoil and resistance I'd be facing now would likely be a thousand, a hundred times more troublesome than the situation Lyon faces."

"Governing a vast land filled with hatred and a vastly different culture is far more difficult than winning a war."

"Moreover, my identity is right here; it would attract more targeting."

This thought further solidified his previous strategy of steady and sure progress.

Power was fundamental, but wisely applying power was even more important than power itself.

He dismissed the Heroic Spirit Mien, who had fallen into deep thought, and continued his training.

But not long after, a communication from the Vophal Dragon Domain interrupted his process.

Light and shadow manifested from the communication device, intertwining and twisting.

Soon, a clear and beautiful draconic projection appeared before him.

It was the brass-silver dragon Deborah.

Her countenance carried unconcealable joy.

"Garoth."

Deborah spoke with a light, brisk tone, "Our children... have all hatched."

The moment Garoth heard this news, his spirit couldn't help but be stirred.

Nine years.

From the dragon eggs beginning to gestate to today's hatchlings breaking their shells, it spanned the entire duration of the Second War of the Nations.

His first batch of direct blood descendants had finally officially arrived in the world.

"How is their condition? Any congenital deficiencies?"

"Are they all pure-blooded Red Iron Dragons? Have they inherited any... unique characteristics from me?"

A string of questions spilled from Garoth's mouth, his speech slightly faster than usual.

He placed considerable importance on his own offspring.

"Patience, dear, patience."

A flicker of sly light flashed in Deborah's eyes, seeming to enjoy Garoth's rare display of eagerness. "The children are all healthy, full of vitality. As for other details..."

She deliberately drew out her tone, keeping him in suspense.

"I will let them live and grow in the Vophal Dragon Domain for a period of time."

"Here, they will hear legendary stories about their father, the great Red Emperor. They will come into contact with more dragons of different ages and personalities, broadening their horizons, learning basic draconic etiquette and knowledge."

"When they safely pass through the most fragile hatchling period and reach six years of age, I will personally bring them to the Aola Kingdom, to the Citadel of Crimson Flame, to stand before you."

"As for their names, their individual special abilities, their personalities and appearances..."

"You will naturally know then. Believe me, Garoth, they will definitely bring you surprises."

Garoth took a deep breath and nodded gently.

He understood Deborah's approach.

Placing newborn dragons in the Vophal Dragon Domain, rich with draconic cultural atmosphere, for early rearing and education was beneficial for them to establish a stable draconic identity, avoiding being prematurely influenced by chaotic or weak instincts.

This was not a bad thing.

Garoth also did not wish to see any chaotic beings among his descendants.

However...

Garoth's gaze carefully traced Deborah's projection.

Having become a mother, her beauty seemed to have undergone a deeper, richer transformation.

"Deborah," the Red Iron Dragon's voice lowered, carrying a trace of heat, "you have become... more beautiful. The children can temporarily remain in the dragon domain, receiving the care and guidance of their elders. But you..."

He leaned forward slightly and said,

"Can you return to the Citadel of Crimson Flame first? I wish for you to accompany me for a while."

The period between adulthood and the prime phase was when a dragon's physiological and psychological desires were most active and intense.

Relying on powerful willpower, Garoth had long resisted his instincts, pouring the vast majority of his energy into the enhancement of his power, living a highly disciplined life.

This did not mean desire did not exist; it was merely strictly controlled.

However, appropriate indulgence was necessary.

At the appropriate time, the dam also needed to open its gates in a controlled manner, allowing the torrent to ease. This was part of maintaining physical and mental balance.