Translator: AnubisTL
Time flowed by, neither hurried nor slow, silent and imperceptible.
Night fog, thick as ink, blanketed the Borderlands. The valley ahead loomed indistinctly, its contours shifting in the gloom.
The Bloodhoof Clan's elite forces advanced in silence. The mounts of the Heavy Armored Rhinoceros Knights trod softly on damp moss, their massive weight muffled by spider silk silencing cloths, rendering the multi-ton beasts as silent as ghosts. Shamans atop the mammoth giant elephants clutched silent totems, their every movement and sound swallowed by magic.
"The target valley is just ahead," the White Mane Shaman murmured, his brow furrowed. "Something's not right. We're close enough now, but there's no sign of any defenses."
Dragon Valley lay only a few miles ahead of the Bloodhoof forces.
At this distance, the White Mane Shaman had prepared to be discovered, his spells ready to be unleashed.
Yet as time passed and the Bloodhoof forces advanced step by step, the valley ahead remained eerily still, like a slumbering giant beast sprawled across the earth, utterly unresponsive.
There were no patrolling wyverns or giant eagles in the sky, nor did they spot any hidden sentries.
The howling of Hyena-Man patrols was absent, as was the glow from kobold arrow towers.
The Bloodhoof forces' approach was astonishingly smooth, bordering on the unbelievable.
"Are the dragonkind so foolish and arrogant that they've left their defenses completely unguarded?" a boss asked, scratching his horn in bewilderment.
"No, if that were true, it would go beyond mere foolishness," the White Mane Shaman replied, agitatedly flicking his tail. "I feel uneasy. Something ominous is about to happen."
Chieftain Bloodhoof, mounted atop a mammoth giant elephant, gazed expressionlessly at Dragon Valley.
Without a word, he gestured to a minotaur boss.
The main Bloodhoof Clan force halted. Five agile scouts, led by a lean minotaur, shot forward like arrows loosed from a bow, racing toward the narrow, easily defended valley entrance.
At first, they proceeded cautiously.
Especially when they spotted the watchtowers perched on the valley cliffs, their nerves stretched to the breaking point, fearing a rain of arrows would erupt at any moment.
What truly unnerved them, however, was this:
The watchtowers stood completely empty.
Without encountering any resistance, they charged into Dragon Valley.
The scouts quickly returned to the main force, their faces tense and breaths ragged. They reported to Baal, "Chieftain, the valley is filled with empty tents. All the campfires have gone cold, and we haven't seen a single enemy warrior—only some elderly, weak, and disabled individuals incapable of combat."
Baal, who was standing on the ground gently patting the trunk of a mammoth giant elephant, froze mid-motion at the scouts' report.
We've fallen into a trap!
That cunning evil dragon!
His face darkened with fury. He stomped his foot, shattering the ground, and with a powerful leap, he vaulted onto the back of the towering mammoth elephant amidst the flying debris.
Before Baal could issue further commands, a minotaur sorcerer at the rear of the party suddenly paled. He pulled out a cracking crystal ball from his robes. Through its rapidly dimming light, they could faintly discern the silhouette of a massive dragon soaring over their main camp.
This served as a signal.
More sorcerers and shamans exchanged uneasy glances.
The White Mane Shaman produced a miniature totem, its runes glowing brightly as desperate cries and roars of his people echoed from within.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
"The dragons are here!"
"Watch out for ogres and centaurs!"
"Call for reinforcements now!"
"..."
Even the most obtuse minotaur now understood the situation.
The juvenile dragons hadn't waited in the valley for the Bloodhoof Clan to arrive, nor had they intended a direct confrontation. The red and white dragons' actions had been a mere diversion. The Bloodhoof Clan, believing they had drawn away the forces of Dragon Valley, had instead been lured away themselves.
The Bloodhoof Clan, who sought to conquer Dragon Valley in a single assault and hunt down the dragons, were now paying the price for their arrogance and prejudice against dragonkind.
"Retreat. Return to the tribe," Baal ordered without hesitation, his voice devoid of emotion yet terrifyingly deep.
The minotaurs were bound together by bloodline and totem worship.
They valued their clans, tribes, and families above all else. They could not abandon their territory, nor could they abandon their people.
At their weakest point, the tribal territory was attacked, leaving it teetering on the brink of collapse. Every minotaur was consumed by anxiety.
The Bloodhoof forces, who had marched in with such fanfare, now retreated even faster than they had arrived.
But unlike their earlier excitement, the minotaurs' hearts were now taut with tension. Sorcerers and shamans abandoned all pretense of concealing their forces, focusing solely on amplifying their speed, creating a thunderous commotion.
Let's rewind a few minutes.
Bloodhoof Clan's main camp.
Garos circled in the sky, the fierce winds he generated tearing apart the arcane eye.
Before the minotaurs began their march, before the red and white dragons seized the two strongholds, Garos had already anticipated their move. His battle group had secretly circled around, advancing toward the Bloodhoof Clan's main camp. Samantha and Treacy, who had remained at the strongholds to deceive the minotaurs, had also received his message and were now rushing to join him.
"Arrogant, presumptuous, foolish."
"Let them cling to these prejudices against me."
Initially, Garos was annoyed by these prejudices and discrimination. But as he matured, he gradually realized that it was a natural camouflage, causing his enemies to underestimate him—which was actually advantageous.
Instead of directly attacking the brightly lit, sizable minotaur territory below, the red-iron dragon simply lowered its gaze and watched silently, allowing its familiars to fulfill their roles while conserving its own energy for the more intense battles to come.
Meanwhile, a night breeze swirled around the totem pillar.
The minotaur sentry in the watchtower barely managed to utter half an alarm before an explosive arrow from a hybrid centaur pierced his throat, shattering his body and most of the watchtower.
Roar!
A magnificent adult gold dragon, nearly twenty meters long, with each scale gleaming brilliantly, appeared in the sky, unleashing a resonant dragon's roar.
A gold dragon?!
Remembering the legendary power of gold dragons from ancient texts, several sentries' hearts stopped instantly, dying of sheer terror. The numerous minotaurs nearly forgot to breathe, their minds blank with horror.
Fortunately, the terrifying gold dragon vanished like a mirage, seemingly lacking physical substance.
Almost simultaneously, thirty ghostly black figures surged over the battlements, their shadows flickering along the city walls.
Hyenaman Hodge stood at the rear, his feet planted within the crimson glow of the Overseer's Aura. Before him, the Hyena-Man hunters swelled as if filled with pitch and oil, their claws and fangs bared, hoarse snarls erupting from their throats.
"Tear out their throats!"
"For the Ironforged Clan!"
Chaos erupted.
The Bloodhoof Clan was thrown into instant disarray.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Every scale on the Dragon Blood Gluttonous Demon Karu's body blazed crimson, like burning flames.
The colossal beast, only slightly shorter than the city walls, charged forward, each stride shaking the stone and sending debris tumbling. Short spears and arrows shattered against his hide, unable to halt his advance.
Then, like a siege ram, he slammed into the wall.
Crash!
The stone wall crumbled, but Karu was met with twelve poison-tipped spears.
Yet the moment the poisoned tips struck his flesh, sparks flew!
"Meat!"
Karu grinned, drool dripping from his massive maw. His fan-like hands seized two minotaur heads and slammed them together, splattering red and white gore across his face. Undeterred by the filth, he licked the mess with relish, his grotesque display sending chills down the spines of onlookers.
On the western flank, a minotaur sorcerer waved his staff.
Earth and stone surged upward, manipulated by the sorcerer to create a rising wave.
But the spell was interrupted by a dense rain of arrows.
Silvermane reared back, his arm muscles coiling like steel cables as he drew his bow. His arrow pierced the sorcerer's eye socket with deadly precision, piercing through bone and emerging from the other side.
The cavalry under his command swept over the city walls, arrows raining down to target the sorcerers and shamans with pinpoint accuracy.
Among the cavalry that had followed the white dragon, there were no centaurs this time.
The ground cracked open.
The totem pillar of the Bloodhoof Clan rose from the battlefield, standing tall and majestic. Runes along its shaft lit up in sequence, unleashing interwoven chains of lightning, howling ice arrows, and explosive fireballs.
Elemental magic surged across the battlefield.
At times, it manifested as destructive tidal waves crashing against the enemy; at others, it transformed into healing rain showering the minotaur warriors.
Whoosh—whoosh!
Elvie hovered in mid-air, her wings spread wide as arrows streaked from her bow like shooting stars.
The half-elf magic warrior was a master archer.
Her arm blurred into a phantom image as she unleashed a barrage of mana-infused explosive arrows, each streaking through the air like a precision-guided missile before slamming into the totem pillars.
Under the relentless bombardment, the magic shields trembled violently, their counterattacks visibly weakening.
Nearby, the Dragon Blood Gluttonous Demon Karu grinned savagely as he tore a minotaur boss in half.
He casually yanked the spear from his shoulder, wiped the blood-soaked wound with his massive, gore-stained hand, and gnawed on an arm while the wound healed at an astonishing rate.
The dragon-like behemoth stomped forward, charging toward the nearest totem pillar.
Simultaneously, heavily armored ogres and a few equally formidable trolls arrived.
"Hammer skulls and drink blood!"
"Shatter bones into song!"
They bellowed their battle group's war cries in coarse, guttural voices, their roars and howls lacking any semblance of order but radiating an overwhelming, unstoppable force.
Clad in fine steel armor reinforced with diamond, they weathered the totem pillar attacks, swinging giant axes, warhammers, and wolf-toothed clubs like a mobile fortress, advancing step by step.
As the Ironforged Clan's elite Starfall Hammer Warband, they enjoyed the finest equipment and provisions, but also bore the brunt of the most grueling frontal assaults.
The sky suddenly darkened.
With a cacophony of shrieks and roars like volcanic eruptions, Red Dragon Samantha led her wyvern flock crashing into the battlefield like meteorites, dragon flame incinerating everything in their path.
The white dragon followed close behind, bringing swift cavalry reinforcements—giant wolf knights, hyena knights, and other agile riders—who surged into the breach like a tidal wave.
As the two dragons ravaged the Bloodhoof Clan's forces from above, the outcome of the battle became inevitable.
Totem pillars collapsed one after another with thunderous crashes, the minotaur defenses melted like snow under the scorching sun, and the scorched earth was littered with corpses, blood pooling into crimson streams.
The Ironforged Clan—this red-iron dragon-led "ferocious beast"—had revealed its lethal claws and fangs in the Borderlands, its true power now unleashed.
(End of the Chapter)
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