novelraw Chapter 72: Howling Moon Clan, the Advancing Brass Dragon
Chapter 72: Howling Moon Clan, the Advancing Brass Dragon
Needleleaf Valley, Sulfur Pool.
Garoth tossed piece after piece of brass ore into it.
This kind of ore was distributed around Needleleaf Valley. It was a type of fire-attributed metal ore that reacted with the sulfur pool to produce intense heat. Previously, the Rampage Bears had used brass to enhance the sulfur pool’s effect, making it boil, become hotter, and produce more steam.
Sizzle sizzle sizzle!
As each piece of brass ore touched the sulfur pool water, countless bubbles immediately erupted continuously, hissing loudly, and the temperature kept rising.
Garoth did not jump into the sulfur pool to soak.
He raised his dragon wings, smeared with serpent dragon poison blood, and stretched them horizontally over the sulfur pool’s water, letting the areas corroded with many holes by the poison blood bear the full impact of the high-temperature steam.
That high-temperature, moisture-laden steam.
It penetrated everywhere, seeping into the blood holes on his dragon wings. The pain transmitted made Garoth’s mouth twitch slightly.
Ordinary high heat meant nothing to him.Because of the Blessing of Fire, his fire resistance, after an initial drop, had recently risen continuously, even surpassing his previous peak, improving to the point where normal fire damage was basically immune.
But high-temperature steam was a mixed damage.
Especially since it also carried water-type damage harmful to Garoth, combined with the pain caused by the serpent poison, the feeling was indescribable. If he had to describe it, it was like having dense mouth ulcers and then eating a mouthful of chili powder, using his tongue to evenly spread it over each sore.
“Even if the attempt fails, it can still raise some water resistance.”
The intense pain outside of battle moments was harder to bear. Garoth’s tail kept swinging, and his dragon wings trembled slightly.
But his eyes glinted fiercely as he continued stretching his wings, enduring the steam’s assault.
“Pain? I am the master of my body.”
“A mere pain, bow before me!”
“This isn’t pain; it’s exhilarating. This is exactly the feeling I want.”
Garoth grinned and tossed another piece of brass ore into the sulfur pool, thickening the scorching steam. Pain forced him to grit his teeth and grimace, but he absolutely refused to pull back his wings.
The faerie dragon Vira and the red dragon Samantha exchanged glances, both seeing the shock in each other’s eyes.
“Garoth has become even more twisted.”
“He actually tortures himself like this. Ordinary pain can no longer satisfy him.”
Samantha silently took a few steps back, distancing herself from the steam-filled area.
“When did Garoth’s symptoms start?” Vira asked in puzzlement. “Could he have some kind of dragon mental illness?”
Dragons had highly developed brains, allowing them to perceive the essence of the world.
But this also meant dragons could potentially develop mental illnesses.
Infinite gluttony, extreme obsession with magic, leaving the nest to roam... these were all dragon mental illnesses. Garoth’s symptoms were uncommon, but the faerie dragon felt they resembled a prelude to a mental disorder.
“As far as I remember, he has always liked this.”
Samantha touched her jaw keratin thoughtfully. “This probably isn’t a mental illness but some kind of fetish. My heritage mentions some intelligent beings who enjoy feeling pain and injury.”
“Garoth should be like that. The more his body hurts, the more he enjoys it.”
The faerie dragon suddenly understood and nodded. “No wonder Garoth is different from others—even his fetishes are strange.”
Garoth’s mind was battling the pain and he didn’t pay attention to the two dragons’ conversation.
Otherwise, he would definitely slap each of them once for their slander and defamation!
Three days later, he had to make a trip to Crescent Valley. If the Howling Moon Clan’s werewolves chose to refuse, a fight would be necessary. Garoth’s current trial was tentative and stopped after a short time.
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.
Garoth had mostly recovered and then soared into the air, flying toward Crescent Valley.
To be cautious, two days earlier, he had ordered Mobel to lead the majority of the Rampage Bears toward Crescent Valley. Garoth did not require them to attack, only to keep a certain distance, station on the outskirts, and remain hidden.
This way,
if communication with the Howling Moon Clan went poorly,
with the Rampage Bears’ cooperation in encirclement,
the chance of completely annihilating this werewolf tribe without sparing a single member was much higher.
Meanwhile, in Crescent Valley, at the Howling Moon Clan.
The old Shaman and the Chieftain, along with a group of prime-aged Graymane Werewolves, waited within the clan’s territory for the arrival of the dragon. Some werewolves bore fresh wounds, the number of giant wolves in the clan had increased, while the werewolf count had decreased correspondingly.
The past ten days had been far from peaceful for the Howling Moon Clan.
The old Shaman and the Chieftain, the two highest clan leaders, both leaned toward submitting to and following the dragons.
They stood at the highest position, bearing the most pressure, knowing how difficult it was to lead the tribe to survive in the wilderness. Moreover, after consulting some ancient clan texts about dragons overnight, they realized Garoth was probably still a young dragon, yet he could kill the venomous serpent they regarded as a major enemy. Such performance was not that of an ordinary dragon.
Following a young dragon with extraordinary potential
was a good choice for a wilderness clan.
Besides, because of Garoth’s final kind words, they believed he was not a cruel, bloodthirsty dragon.
However, the clan’s voices were not unified. Some werewolves, still haunted by the shadow of the Cliff Serpent Dragon, firmly believed they could not invite wolves into their home.
Soon, the differing voices became opposing factions.
What was once a peaceful discussion grew heated.
The Graymane Werewolves honored the strong. Since no consensus was reached, they would fight—the strongest fist would decide who to obey.
Thus,
to determine the clan’s future direction,
at this critical juncture, a group of werewolves sharing the same goal but differing in ideas began dueling, ultimately ending in victory for the Shaman and Chieftain’s side.
Those who participated in the duel and lost,
according to Howling Moon Clan tradition, willingly transformed into giant wolves,
forsaking intelligence, relying on primal instincts and thought,
to continue guarding the clan under other werewolves’ leadership.
Huff!
With a piercing howl approaching from afar,
to demonstrate his strength, Garoth once again streaked across the sky like a crimson meteor and descended onto the Howling Moon Clan’s territory.
His gaze swept over the werewolves, finally settling on the old Shaman.
Garoth smiled faintly and said, “Have you considered it? Will you choose to follow under my wings, walk toward a brighter path, or reject my goodwill and continue struggling to survive in the wilderness?”
The old Shaman was the first to lower his head and kneel before Garoth.
“Noble and mighty dragon, it is the honor of the Howling Moon Clan to serve you.”
“From today onward, the Howling Moon Clan will become your vassal, offering loyalty. Wherever you go, the wolves of Howling Moon will follow.”
As if a switch was flipped,
one after another, the werewolves knelt before Garoth.
Thus, Garoth gained his first vassal intelligent beings.
The process was smooth, as if naturally unfolding.
Soon after, Garoth quickly noticed the change in the number of giant wolves and werewolves within the Howling Moon Clan.
“What’s with these new giant wolves?”
he asked the old Shaman.
The old Shaman’s eyes were complicated as he slowly said, “They were warriors who opposed the decision. Now, having lost their intelligence, they have become beasts, guarding the clan in a different way.”
Then, he informed Garoth of the specific process.
This made Garoth somewhat emotional and thoughtful.
He had only given them a choice and did not care about the clan’s reaction, only waiting for the final result.
The Howling Moon Clan experienced internal strife within just ten days to make their choice.
This also made Garoth realize even more.
In this survival-of-the-fittest world, how important strength was.
A single thought from the strong, a sudden whim, could decide the fate of the weak, giving them new life or casting them into the abyss.
At the same time.
In the northern Ser Wilderness, between the wilderness and the Permafrost Tundra, at Red Maple Ridge.
The Brass Dragon surged into the sky.
“Born evil hybrid dragon! I will find you, then defeat you! Capture you, train you, and turn you into a kind dragon!”
With brand-new equipment and after over half a year of harsh training, the Brass Dragon was full of fighting spirit, soaring into the high sky.