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Translator: AnubisTL
The tribal chiefs, forged in the crucible of blood and fire, might be plotting in secret or forging alliances in the shadows.
The war horn would sound no later than the moment the Ironforged Tribe fully consolidated its control over the south and digested the spoils of victory.
This was a countdown to life or death.
Otherwise, facing the Ironforged Tribe at the height of its power, the other tribes could only await their doom.
Thinking this, the red-iron dragon's pupils remained utterly still.
He was no longer the cautious young dragon who had to tread carefully in all matters. While still prudent, not everything could instill fear in him now.
At his command, the Ironforged Tribe was also preparing for the impending war.
When the time came...
If they lost, years of accumulated wealth would be reduced to ashes, but it would merely mean starting over. Garos would never risk his own life.
If they won, Garos would be crowned King of the Crossroads. Though the land itself was barren and backward, whoever stood at its apex could still command a vast influx of resources, accelerating their growth.
As the red-iron dragon approached, the familiars paused their work, bowed their heads, and prostrated themselves on the ground, chanting in awe:
"Praise the Dragon Lord!"
"Loyalty! Devotion!"
"..."
Garos nodded slightly. "Continue with your duties."
The familiars on the assembly line resumed their tasks.
Those who had just been rotated off their shifts wore satisfied expressions as they devoured the nearly limitless supply of food.
The assembly line work was strenuous, no easier than combat, but the Ironforged Tribe thoughtfully provided ample sustenance for these familiars. They could eat and drink their fill without worrying about food shortages.
In the resource-scarce Frontierlands, where starvation was a constant threat, this treatment far exceeded what most lower-ranking familiars received.
The hyena-men and kobolds practically fought for positions on the assembly line, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and genuine reverence for Garos.
"Goblin, why does my rune etching keep failing?"
From another alchemy workshop came the voice of Red Dragon Samantha.
Since conquering the Black Iron Plains, Samantha had relocated from the Sulfur Hills to this stronghold, drawn by its abundance of alchemy workshops and favorable temperature conditions. This move also allowed her to better oversee and command the various assembly lines.
Garos turned to look.
He saw Red Dragon Samantha extending her arm toward the grand artificer, pointing at a scale on her forearm.
Rune etching was a technique far more advanced than ordinary engraving. It used alchemical runes to deeply amplify and reinforce the etched material.
Red Dragon Samantha was attempting to etch defensive runes onto her scales, but she had failed repeatedly.
"I've been extremely careful, but why can't I succeed?" the red dragon asked.
The construct's eyes flashed with an eerie blue light, scanning the red dragon's scales.
In a single glance, the intelligence left behind by the high alchemist understood the problem.
The light retracted into its eyes, then instantly expanded again.
A single dragon scale from Red Dragon Samantha was magnified countless times, its surface ridges resembling a mountain range.
"Dragon scales are not the flat surfaces visible to the naked eye," the construct said. "They possess a far more intricate microscopic structure. You need to observe them with greater precision and construct a three-dimensional geometric model."
The grand artificer extended a finger, tracing vibrant green lines with magic energy. The lines flowed like rivers, winding along the scale's natural patterns, avoiding all obstacles, and ultimately forming a complex, exquisite, and perfectly natural rune circuit.
"Nature provides the optimal rune substrate. Forcing modifications against its natural grain is inferior to adapting to its inherent structure," the grand artificer stated with mechanical calm.
Nature provides the optimal rune substrate?
Samantha couldn't recall encountering such a concept in her inheritance. Her alchemy inheritance had never mentioned considering the non-planar nature of dragon scales during rune etching. This was entirely new knowledge, absent from her inherited teachings.
Though she was reluctant to admit it, Red Dragon Samantha knew full well that the intelligent golem before her possessed profound alchemical mastery and served as an exceptional mentor. This wasn't her first time consulting the golem. Each time, the grand artificer saw through the complexities to the core of the problem, unraveling her doubts with simple explanations that brought sudden clarity and enlightenment.
Garos, overhearing the exchange, nodded slightly. The effort invested in the war against the Gold Tooth Tribe had been well worth it. Securing the grand artificer's loyalty alone was an immeasurable gain.
Don't give me gold; give me the flame that turns stone to gold.
Garos wholeheartedly agreed with this assessment. The grand artificer construct was essentially an educational intelligent golem, designed to continuously train alchemists for the Ironforged Tribe.
The legendary praise bestowed upon him by the Gold Tooth Tribe goblins was no exaggeration.
Had he not been trapped in the Frontierlands, held back by his own people, he would almost certainly have become a true legendary figure in his lifetime.
Having grasped the key to rune etching, Samantha immediately began experimenting.
The grand artificer remained active, patrolling the territory and patiently guiding each alchemist who encountered difficulties, tirelessly offering instruction.
Garos didn't linger long.
He flapped his wings and soared into the sky, reaching the hinterlands of the Black Iron Plains. Circling overhead, a pleased smile stretched across his draconic face as he gazed down at the scene below.
Across the dark plains, countless figures moved like tiny worker ants, scurrying through the earth's veins.
Miners formed long, rhythmic lines, chanting deep, rhythmic work songs as they sweated profusely, driving steel chisels deeper into the earth with heavy crowbars and massive oak hammers.
At the center of the mining pit stood several metallic constructsâgrotesque monsters pieced together from steel and other metals, welded into nightmarish forms.
The colossal metal arms, thick as pillars, swung heavy steel drills that crashed down with a resounding thud! thud! thud! into the earth.
Each impact sent tremors through the ground, and oily mud spewed from the drill holes, drenching the minotaur slaves operating the winches below.
A wyvern flock and Kora Giant Eagles patrolled the skies.
Centaurs, giant wolves, and elite cavalry units guarded the ground.
Massive numbers of soldiers patrolled both land and air, preventing any creature from approaching, while countless hidden sentries and scouts lurked in the shadows.
Moreover, the noise and activity of the black oilfield were confined within its boundaries by a magic formation jointly constructed by sorcerers and shamans, preventing the disturbances from spreading further.
"Such a delightful aroma," the red-iron dragon murmured, inhaling deeply to savor the faint scent of black oil exposed to the air.
This black oilfield was merely a small one, but its reserves were still substantial for a tribe. Although the goblins had been exploiting it for some time, they hadn't dared to fully develop it before their rise to power, leaving ample reserves untouched.
Given enough time, they could easily extract enough black oil to create a pool for Garos himself.
"Still, it's far smaller than the black oilfields I saw in the Sierre Wilderness," the red-iron dragon mused, his eyes gleaming with thought.
The sight of the black oilfields he had witnessed during his childhood adventuresâthe heavily armed and fortified garrisons, the colossal alchemy engines that bowed to the earth like pilgrims, pumping out black oilâhad left a profound psychological impact on him.
In comparison, the Ironforged Tribe's black oilfield was far too small, and their extraction methods were woefully outdated.
"Black oil also exists in a more advanced solid form," Garos mused.
"The inheritance texts mention that a hundred tons of black oil can be condensed into a single black energy stone, the primary energy source for legendary-grade alchemy golems."
"I really want to taste a black energy stone. I wonder how potent and powerful it would be."
"Unfortunately, even though we now have black oil resources, the Ironforged Tribe's alchemy industry lacks the capability to produce them, and we have no channels for procurement."
Garos licked his lips, his heart filled with longing.
Regardless, he finally had his own black oilfield. He would never again have to resort to trading with vermin like earth spiders for meager amounts of black oil, forcing him to flee whenever they were discovered.
However, the Ironforged Tribe's possession of a black oilfield still needed to be kept secret, concealed from public knowledge.
Such strategic resources were coveted by all nations.
Just as Garos had immediately begun preparing for war upon learning of the Gold Tooth Tribe's black oilfield, the Ironforged Tribe would inevitably face invasion if their own black oilfield in the Frontierlands were discovered.
After admiring his black oilfield for a while, Garos returned to Dragon Valley.
It was now midday, and the sunlight poured down like molten gold, bathing the valley and the red-silver dragon perched on a rocky plateau. Her dragon scales shimmered brilliantly, radiating a dazzling, otherworldly beauty.
The Ironforged Tribe is growing stronger by the day. Sooner or later, they'll come to the silver dragon's attention. I should focus on improving Deborah's favor while I still have time. For now, I shouldn't have to face an adult silver dragon.
Garos thought to himself.
"Hey, metallic dragon!" the red-iron dragon called out. "Wake up! It's riddle time."
At the mention of "riddle," the red-silver dragon's ears perked up instantly. She roused from her nap, blinked her eyes, and gazed expectantly at Garos.
Garos cleared his throat and, in a melodramatic tone, recited:
"I burn without ash, I fall yet forever rise."
"Shepherds use me to mark the hour when flocks return to their fold; sages use me to measure the ebb and flow of destiny's tide."
"Though I have never spoken, I have witnessed the opening and closing chapters of every epic; born from cold embers, I kindled civilization's first bonfire."
As the final syllable faded, he turned to the red-silver dragon.
The riddle was straightforward, almost too obvious.
"star!" Deborah's pupils constricted into brilliant, narrow slits as she answered.
The red-iron dragon nodded. "Correct."
After a brief pause, he looked directly into the red-silver dragon's silver eyes and chuckled softly. "But your innate scale-shine is far more vibrant than those lifeless celestial objects."
The red-silver dragon's tail stiffened into a silver spear with a whoosh, then collapsed limply as if its bones had been removed.
"R-really?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Thank you... for the riddle and the compliment. I really like it."
She spoke softly, avoiding Garos's gaze, yet she couldn't resist stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye. Her heart pounded faster, and her scales tingled with a strange, itchy sensation.
This tacticâfirst piquing her curiosity with a riddle, then shattering her defenses with praiseâwas particularly effective.
Especially when the praise came from the seemingly fierce, crude, and violent red-iron dragon, carrying his unique, scorching aura.
The stark contrast left her with virtually no resistance.
Affection +100!
Affection +100!
Though he couldn't see such notifications, Garos observed the red-silver dragon's reaction.
Dragon Taming Art: Red Copper Dragon Chapter
Whether through provocation or praise, adding a riddle always makes a red copper dragon's heart bloom.
Garos further refined his Dragon Taming Art.
(End of the Chapter)
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