Chapter 237: Have You Ever Been a Dragon? Taking Things for Granted!
The Six-Armed Snake Woman, Na Reisi's vertical pupils contracted into thin slits at the Iron Dragon's offensive behavior.
She slowly stood up, her six arms, which had been folded like petals in front of her, stretched out, and her slender fingers slightly splayed.
Swish, swish, swish!
Six cold iron longswords broke through the water from the swamp, yet not a single ripple appeared on the surface.
The Poison Tail Tribe was rich in arcanists and shamans, but the leader of this tribe, the Six-Armed Snake Woman, Na Reisi, was an out-and-out warrior, and her status was highly respected.
The warrior advancement branch she chose was — Sword Saint.
Sword Saint: The fusion of soul and steel, integrating life and soul into the sword's edge, becoming one with the sword, manifesting power.
The Snake Woman stared coldly at the Iron Dragon, her swords bared, but she did not act rashly.
Across from her, the Iron Dragon Sorog's scales subtly flickered as he watched the Snake Woman's six arms unfold like a dance — each arm's sword-wielding stance was distinctly different, yet they formed a perfect offensive and defensive system.
Under the tense and murderous atmosphere, the croaking of frogs in the depths of the swamp abruptly ceased.
"Six-Armed Snake Woman Sword Saint… A naturally gifted race and profession combination."
The Iron Dragon's voice broke the dead silence. He did not conceal his admiration, saying, "You possess not only beauty and wisdom but also great power."
The Snake Woman's vertical pupils flickered dangerously, and all six longswords hummed simultaneously.
"This power is enough to peel your scales off one by one, completely extract your skeleton from your flesh, and finally chop you into meat paste."
Sorog lightly flicked his tail in agreement, "I have no doubt about that."
Then, he changed the subject, saying, "But my safety is irrelevant. Today, I represent the entire Molten Iron Tribe, and even more so —"
A Silver Dragon scale radiating an icy chill suddenly appeared between his claws.
"— the will of Lord Frost Scar."
When that silver scale came into view, the Snake Woman's body visibly stiffened for a moment, and the apprehension in her eyes grew even stronger.
Buzz —!
An old Snake Man Shaman elder waved his bone staff, and an invisible ripple immediately surged towards the Snake Woman's body, flickering once and then disappearing.
At the same time, the Iron Dragon found that he could no longer perceive the Snake Woman's mental fluctuations.
Clearly, the Snake Man elder had recognized his identity as a Psion and cast a spell to block the Iron Dragon's telepathy for the Snake Woman Sword Saint.
However, the Iron Dragon's expression remained as usual.
After becoming a Psion, his insight into emotions had significantly improved. Even without telepathy, he could detect her emotional reactions simply by observing the subtle expressions and body language of the Snake Woman, though it wasn't as direct as telepathy.
"Frost Scar, the Metallic Dragon overlord of the Borderlands."
The Snake Woman forced her gaze away from the silver scale and said, "He is a Silver Dragon, how could he be associated with you evil Dragons?"
"Don't think we know nothing about Dragons. Although we don't know how you obtained this scale, the Silver Dragon Frost Scar would never support you."
A meaningful smile appeared on the Iron Dragon's lips at the Snake Woman's suspicion.
"Have you ever been a Dragon? Taking things for granted."
He said with a hint of mockery, "The relationships between Dragons are complex and never black and white. How could you foreign creatures possibly understand them? Your thoughts are merely wishful conjecture."
The Iron Dragon held his head high and puffed out his chest, looking around as if he were the true lord of the Myriad Snakes Swamp.
Under the gaze of the snakes, he continued, "Besides, you've already seen Metallic Dragons in our territory, haven't you?"
The Snake Woman fell silent.
After a few seconds, she spoke, "Iron Dragon, first state your purpose. Why have you come here?"
Sorog's expression suddenly turned serious, and his voice deepened slightly as he said, "Regardless of the process, regardless of the cost incurred along the way, the Molten Iron Tribe will ultimately become the master of the Borderlands, whether sooner or later."
"Na Reisi, you are not like those foolish Barbarians and Orcs. You understand very well that this is an unchangeable reality."
He said unhurriedly, "You can ally with Dawn and Iron Blood, fight us to the death, and then suffer heavy blows, being crippled and defeated, or you can choose to surrender to the Molten Iron Tribe in advance. This way, after the war ends, you will still enjoy a transcendent status in the Borderlands."
The Iron Dragon offered two choices.
"What guarantee do you offer?" the Snake Woman sharply retorted, saying, "Will we not be used as cannon fodder after surrendering? Such empty promises are meaningless. The Poison Tail Tribe will never bow down because of a few pretty words."
Hearing these resolute words, the Iron Dragon generally understood the Snake Woman's attitude and thoughts.
He flicked his tail and then said, "I see valuable courage in your Snake People, which is indeed admirable. But courage cannot change reality. The Molten Iron Tribe will soon display enough power to make you change your minds."
The Six-Armed Snake Woman coiled on her throne and said, "Then I shall wait and see, but at least at this stage, don't even dream of gaining the Poison Tail Tribe's allegiance. We have our own principles and judgments."
The Iron Dragon chuckled, "Time is long, and I am very patient. I won't rush things."
The Snake Woman carefully considered her words and decided to reveal more information: "To be honest, before your arrival, emissaries from Dawn and the Iron Blood Tribe had already been here, attempting to persuade us to ally and jointly resist your Molten Iron Tribe."
She narrowed her eyes, carefully observing the Iron Dragon's reaction.
"That is within my expectations."
The Iron Dragon's reaction was surprisingly calm.
"However, you probably didn't accept their proposal."
The composure and calmness displayed by this Iron Dragon secretly surprised the Snake Woman — it was vastly different from her perception of Dragons as irritable and prone to anger, even causing her to begin questioning some of her ingrained beliefs.
"You only guessed half right."
She confessed candidly, "We had indeed decided to accept the alliance invitation, but the Scale of Frost Scar you brought made my thoughts waver."
"We decided to adopt a delaying strategy, neither explicitly agreeing to their alliance request nor allying with or submitting to your Molten Iron Tribe. As long as the war does not spread to our territory, the Poison Tail Tribe will maintain absolute neutrality."
After more in-depth discussions and the confirmation of further specific details, the Iron Dragon Sorog finally left the Myriad Snakes Swamp.
Although he failed to directly gain the Poison Tail Tribe's allegiance, his main objective had been achieved.
— He successfully swayed the Poison Tail Tribe's resolve to ally with other tribes, pushing them into a neutral position.
"Leader, do you truly believe that the Silver Dragon Frost Scar is secretly supporting the Molten Iron Tribe?"
A wrinkled Old Shaman couldn't help but ask after the Iron Dragon departed.
Na Reisi looked in the direction the Iron Dragon had left and slowly shook her head: "That question is irrelevant."
"If the Human and Orc allied forces defeat the Molten Iron Tribe, they will surely suffer heavy casualties, and at that time, we can completely reap the benefits; conversely, if the Molten Iron Tribe wins a pyrrhic victory, we will also have the opportunity to take advantage of their weakness."
"As for the Silver Dragon Frost Scar…"
Her snake tail gently swayed, and a shrewd glint flashed in her eyes: "Given his usual modus operandi, even if he intervenes, he won't directly destroy us. At most, he'll issue a warning first, and if the Molten Iron Tribe demonstrates overwhelming strength, it won't be too late to pledge allegiance then. In any case, our Poison Tail Tribe will always have room to retreat unscathed."
In the Southwest of the Borderlands, the setting sun in Dragon Valley dyed the rock walls crimson.
Galos slowly exhaled a turbid breath, and the drum-like roar in his chest gradually subsided, marking the end of today's Dragon Heart tempering.
Dewdrops condensed on the rock wall were shaken off by the aftershocks, and waves of hot air emanated from the slightly opening and closing scales of the Red Iron Dragon.
Just then, a familiar tremor came from deep within his bloodline — it was the sensation of the Blood Kin Chain being triggered.
"The Poison Tail Tribe's stance has been ascertained."
Sorog's voice came through: "These swamp crawlers are far more cunning than the Humans and Orcs; they're playing the long game, waiting for others to fight it out."
Although the Six-Armed Snake Woman concealed it very well, she could not escape the Psion's perception.
He meticulously recounted the details of his conversation in the Poison Tail Tribe and the reactions of the Snake People.
"It's understandable. I would do the same."
The Red Iron Dragon said, "Once we crush Dawn and Iron Blood, these Snake People will naturally kneel."
The leaders of the original Four Tribes in the Borderlands were roughly on par in strength, essentially at the level of the Grand Artificer's alchemical golem. There wasn't much difference in their power levels.
If they had to face three at once, and they had some special methods and cooperated with each other, the situation would become very troublesome.
But if it's only two factions… The Red Iron Dragon's spines glowed faintly with battle intent, and the Martial Dragon's aura surged faster within his body.
"Oh, I've taken a liking to the leader of the Poison Tail Tribe."
The Iron Dragon suddenly said.
Galos nodded slightly, saying, "The Six-Armed Snake Woman… her bloodline is not bad, and she herself is powerful. It fits your preference, so it's normal for you to like her, but don't let it delay our great cause."
The Iron Dragon spoke frankly, saying, "How can the desires of the lower body compare to the grand blueprint in our hearts?"
"I am not the foolish White Scale. I can already control my desires and thoughts. If the Snake Woman ultimately chooses to be our enemy, I will kill her without hesitation."
These words were as deep as thunder, resolute and unequivocal.
For the Iron Dragon, nothing could compare to his burning ambition to establish a Dragon kingdom. Moreover, he had no emotional attachment to the Snake Woman, only a slight desire, and the Iron Dragon would not let this cloud his judgment.
Galos felt relatively at ease with the Iron Dragon Sorog and said no more.
After a brief thought, the Red Iron Dragon asked:
"Sorog, tell me how this war should be conducted. What are your thoughts?"
After a few seconds of calm, the Iron Dragon Sorog's methodical and orderly voice slowly came through: "Assuming the Humans and Orcs have fully united, their advantage lies in having more mid to high-level leaders and elite soldiers than us, and high tactical flexibility, allowing for multi-front combat."
"Our current situation is that we have an ample number of low-level Gnoll and Kobolds, fearless of attrition, and our top-tier combat power exceeds theirs, but we lack a sufficient number of mid to high-level leaders. The alchemical golems produced by the Alchemical Workshop can compensate for some of this, but it is still not enough."
The war had just ended, and a large number of the Goblins' alchemical golems had been destroyed, with fewer than one in ten remaining.
Although the Alchemical Workshop was operating day and night under Samantha's leadership and the Grand Artificer's assistance, the number of newly produced war golems was far from sufficient to fill the war gap.
"We have occupied the entire Southeast, with numerous strongholds, but it's still too soon, and manpower is stretched. The Southeast territories have not been fully assimilated, making comprehensive defense difficult."
"…"
Time passed bit by bit, as Sorog first analyzed the respective pros and cons of both sides.
He used his Psion skills; his thoughts were now meticulous and rapid, and he quickly thoroughly analyzed the situation of both parties.
Finally, Sorog's voice paused, and he summarized: "I suggest simultaneously adopting a 'top-level decapitation' and 'bottom-level attrition' strategy to compensate for the disadvantage of insufficient mid-level forces."
Galos nodded, praising, "Hmm, that's pretty much what I was thinking."
His voice paused, and the Red Iron Dragon gradually reined in his smile, saying seriously, "War is imminent. We don't have time to slowly digest the fruits of victory and consolidate our territory. The Human and Orc allied forces could attack at any moment."
"Prepare for war. Convey the order to all stronghold lieutenants to make full preparations for war."
Immediately after, instructions were relayed through communication devices to the ears of various lieutenants.
The Molten Iron Tribe's war with the Gold Tooth Tribe had not been long ago, and the dependents were still immersed in the afterglow of victory, letting out battle roars that pierced the sky for the upcoming war, full of fighting spirit and high morale.
They knew deeply:
After this battle, the Molten Iron Tribe's banner would be planted throughout the Borderlands.
And they, these creatures, no matter how humble their original race, as long as they were Molten Iron dependents who followed the great Lord of the Red Wings, would enjoy this honor and become the masters of the Borderlands.
At that time,
Even the low-level servants working on the assembly line would surely feel proud just thinking that the Molten Iron Tribe had already ruled the Borderlands.