Translator: AnubisTL
Blackrock Pass belonged to the Dawn Tribe, and its garrison was predominantly human.
There were barbarians, warriors, and even a few spellcasters stationed there.
Ugosh nodded, his voice grim. "The Ironblood Tribe will send an elite unit of berserkers to Blackrock Pass. They will tear those Ironforged monsters to shreds."
After exchanging methods of communication, the two tribal chiefs departed Thunder Cliff.
The humans of the Dawn Tribe and the orcs of the Ironblood Tribe had already been mobilized and were in a state of war readiness.
As orders were issued, massive numbers of soldiers began to assemble at Blackrock Pass, awaiting the arrival of the Ironforged army.
The setting sun of Dragon Valley stained the cliffs blood-red, and the silver-white scales of the Red-Silver Dragon Deborah shimmered in the twilight.
She tilted her head, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "Garos, the force you've sent to Blackrock Pass is substantial, but its main strength consists of hyena-men, kobolds, and lizardfolk—lowly familiars. Can they truly conquer such a formidable pass? If the first battle is a defeat, the tribe's morale will plummet."
Through her earlier inquiries, she had learned of the Ironforged Tribe's first move at Blackrock Pass, and she found it perplexing.
The red-iron dragon smiled faintly. "They are merely cannon fodder for a feint. It doesn't matter how many die."
"A critical choke point like Blackrock Pass is only a barrier to surface creatures. To us, it's nothing more than a scratch on a map. We dragons command the skies; no pass can halt our advance. When the war around Blackrock Pass reaches its peak, that's when we'll truly begin our move."
Even the mightiest kingdoms and empires had aerial defenses.
Flying recklessly could lead to being locked on and potentially struck by magical satellites.
But in a backwater like the Frontierlands, such concerns were unnecessary. The skies were virtually open to dragonkind; safety was only a concern when descending to the ground.
The red-silver dragon roughly understood Garos's meaning.
The problem was, sending so many familiars—so many living beings—to serve as cannon fodder... it seemed a bit too cruel.
"But then again, these are necessary sacrifices on the Path of Order."
As a metallic dragon hybrid, Deborah belonged to the good alignment.
But being of the good alignment didn't necessarily mean possessing a saintly, compassionate heart.
If a Lawful Good knight, while helping the weak, was framed and extorted in return, it would be perfectly normal for that knight to draw their sword and execute the accuser on the spot, considering such behavior would disrupt social order. Even if the accuser belonged to a disadvantaged group, the knight would not hesitate.
The Red-Silver Dragon blinked. She felt Garos was truly decisive and resolute. He was meant to be the King of the Frontierlands.
"What about the serpentman tribe? Are we just going to let them reap the benefits as they wish?" the Red-Silver Dragon asked.
She had no good feelings toward the Venomtail Tribe, who wavered like grass in the wind—claiming neutrality while actually waiting for an opportunity to seize the greatest advantage.
"If they had pledged their loyalty from the beginning, I would have granted them a high position."
"But they chose to stand by and watch, hoping to take all the benefits for themselves."
The Red-Iron Dragon's lips curled into a cold smile. "There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world. They want to hold out for a better deal now? After the war, I'll make them pay tenfold for their insolence."
So ruthless. I love it.
The Red-Silver Dragon blinked, feeling that the cold and ruthless Garos had an even greater charm.
"Garos, let's train together. Please guide me."
The memory of the Red-Iron Dragon's searing claws raking across her body flickered through her mind, and her tail twitched involuntarily. She murmured, "Now is not the time."
The Red-Iron Dragon declined Deborah's training request. "The battlefield changes in an instant. I need to focus. We'll talk about it later."
"Alright," Deborah said, sounding slightly disappointed. She then ran off to play a guessing game with Vera the Fairy Dragon.
The Red-Iron Dragon coiled herself on the spot. While listening to the Ignis Brothers Group's discussion and battle reports through the Chain of Kinship, she silently adjusted her condition, preparing for the coming fight.
Frontierlands, Blackrock Pass.
The setting sun, like blood, cast a crimson glow across the land.
Doug the kobold licked his fangs, staring at the heavily guarded pass ahead.
Behind Doug, the dense Ironforged Army spread across the plain before the pass.
Hyena-men hunched their backs, their fur heaving with each breath. Kobolds scratched the ground impatiently with short claws, their fine scales reflecting a greasy glint in the sunlight. Towering ogres in heavy armor wheezed like old bellows. Further out, lizardfolk clung to the ground like shadows. Centaur warriors stamped their hooves restlessly, the faint but piercing hum of taut bowstrings filling the air.
"Do you smell it? The scent of fresh meat."
Doug raised his dragon-like head and let out a thunderous roar.
"You runts!"
"Tear open that breach! For the great Lord of the Crimson Wings, for the Ironforged Tribe!"
After a brief pause, he unfurled his innate wings and bellowed, "Charge!"
The next moment, like a dam bursting, a black tide surged toward the pass, the ground trembling beneath them.
The hyena-men were the first wave to crash against the iron wall.
Running on all fours, they burst forward with astonishing speed, their gaunt bodies stretching into black streaks in the sprint.
Yellow Fang, a hyena-man sub-boss, led the charge. His claws struck sparks from the hard ground as he closed in on the massive gate the Dawn Tribe had erected in the center of the pass.
Suddenly, a dull echo reverberated from the cliff tops.
Wuuu—wuuu—
The heavy blast of ox horns rolled across the plains and through the pass like muffled thunder.
In the next instant, death rained from the sky.
Countless black specks poured down from the cliffs, shrieking as they tore through the air.
It was a hail of arrows.
They easily pierced the hyena-men's crude leather armor, shredding muscle and shattering bone.
One charging hyena-man's left leg was instantly pinned to the ground. It shrieked and struggled, trying to pull out the bone-tipped arrow, only for a second shaft to pierce its neck and end its cries.
"Scatter charge!"
The hyena-man boss roared, rolling to dodge an iron arrow aimed at him. The arrowhead embedded itself deeply into the ground where he had just stood. Around him, more of his companions were being transformed into twitching corpses or wailing wounded by the rain of arrows. Blood quickly gathered into narrow streams, winding through the crevices in the ground.
As the arrow storm continued to fall,
The first wave of hyena-men charging forward collapsed instantly. However, the monsters behind them immediately hoisted the corpses of their fallen comrades as shields and continued their charge.
After paying a heavy price in lives,
The Ironforged monsters finally drew near to Blackrock Pass.
The arrow rain still fell, and spells like fireball, chain lightning, and ice spikes began to take their toll, making every step of the advance increasingly difficult.
Meanwhile,
While the hyena-men and kobolds drew the enemy's fire, the lizardfolk warriors, masters of stealth, had already quietly approached the pass.
On the steep, nearly vertical cliff face, dozens of nearly invisible lizardfolk were rapidly climbing upward like giant geckos.
Their long claws, tipped with rough keratin hooks, dug deep into the rock crevices, allowing them to move as if on flat ground.
Their target was the protruding stone platforms midway up the cliff.
The Dawn Tribe's archer positions.
(End of the Chapter)
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