After the dust settled on the battle of the Lightless Jungle.
The Beholder was completely dead, while the Phoenix and the Holy Spirit Deer officially submitted to the powerful Molten Iron Tribe as enfeoffed lords.
With this, the conflict between the several map kings, which hadn't lasted very long, came to a complete close.
Among the several major regions of the vast wilderness, the Northwest was the first to crown a true Regional King compared to the others.
—The King of Molten Iron.
Had it been any other young and aggressive Dragon, they might have become complacent after such a glorious victory, believing their strength to be unrivaled in the wilderness, and would have impatiently declared war on the entire wilderness to start a new wave of conquest.
However, the King of Molten Iron did not let victory go to his head.
He calmly chose a completely different path.
Garros knew deep down that this victory and the resulting status of Regional King were essentially nothing more than ethereal, empty titles.
He had succeeded in subduing all the map kings in the Northwest because his own strength served as a Foundation, but to a large extent, it was also due to luck, having captured a fleeting and perfect opportunity.
In other vast regions, there might also be powerful existences with unfathomable strength hidden away.
It was just that their movements were relatively slower, and they had yet to complete their consolidation.
For example, the Mad King entrenched in the Central Region, the Red Dragon Gorthax.
He was already notorious in the Central Region, his cruelty and destructive power striking terror into the hearts of all.
Compared to spending effort on unifying a territory, Gorthax was clearly more addicted to the pleasure brought by pure destruction and annihilation.
He would even, on a whim, recklessly intrude into the territories of other regions, unleashing a bloodbath of devastation.
Then there was the Mushroom King of the Southeast Region, who had yet to show his face.
It Advanced slowly, inch by inch, covering the ground with its unique fungal carpet, gradually transforming the surrounding environmental ecology.
This encroachment-style development strategy required a much longer investment of time compared to the steady and sure strategy previously adopted by the Molten Iron Tribe.
Therefore.
Even if a similar opportunity were to descend upon the Southeast Region.
Given the Mushroom King's expansion model, it would be impossible for it to seize the chance as keenly as Garros had.
With these powerful creatures around, the difficulty for the Molten Iron Tribe to continue expanding beyond the Northwest was very high.
Once pitted against those Regional King candidates who had also emerged from intense competition, if the battle couldn't be resolved quickly, the entire Molten Iron Tribe could very likely be dragged into a long-lasting quagmire of war, ultimately squandering the gains they had worked so hard to accumulate.
Besides.
The abundant resources currently controlled within the Northwest Region alone were enough to satisfy the needs of Garros and the entire dragon flight; one could even say they were more than sufficient.
Taking all these considerations into account, Garros finally made the decision to stop outward expansion.
After experiencing a series of intense, high-intensity wars, the subordinates began to systematically retract their claws and turn their energy inward.
Led by experienced chieftains, they went deep into various parts of the Northwest to excavate and mine all kinds of rare resources.
They established sturdy outposts and strongholds at key strategic locations and transportation nodes.
They invested power into maintaining the stability and openness of important trade routes.
Through this series of meticulous and pragmatic measures, the tribe continued to consolidate its control over the Northwest Region.
But even so, given the current size of the Molten Iron Tribe, completely controlling this vast map still felt somewhat beyond their capabilities.
The Molten Iron Tribe urgently needed to increase its population and penetrate its influence into every inch of the land, so that the dragon flag symbolizing the Molten Iron Tribe would truly be planted in every corner of the Northwest, thereby thoroughly consolidating its own ruling Foundation.
Only after this Foundation was solid would the tribe truly possess the firm possibility of continuing to expand into other regions.
For now, the priority was to concentrate energy on extracting various precious resources from this newly conquered land and fully digest the rich fruits of this victory.
As time quietly passed, the changes occurring in the Northwest also gradually spread throughout the entire wilderness.
The birth of a new Regional King undoubtedly caused many map kings to become highly alert and guarded.
Even though this King of Molten Iron had clearly stated his intention to pause expansion, his mere existence still caused many powerful creatures in the wilderness to feel deep-seated unease and wariness.
Imagine this.
When other regions have just finished a tragic competition and a new king has been born, and they are at the critical moment of preparing to pluck the fruits of victory.
The King of Molten Iron of the Northwest might very likely have already achieved a further Breakthrough by relying on the integration and utilization of Northwest resources.
When that time comes, will he really be able to restrain the burning ambition in his heart to continue expanding?
Even if Garros solemnly announced to the entire wilderness that he was completely satisfied with the vast territory of the Northwest and had no designs on other regions.
It would likely be difficult to gain the trust of those wilderness existences.
On the other hand.
The fundamental reason why the wilderness map kings broke out in such fierce wars was that they were taking advantage of the Federation's noticeably weakened control over the wilderness, allowing various forces to rise and fight for hegemony.
The vast majority of existences participating in this competition were below the Legendary Realm.
Including Garros, many of them desired to use the rich resources hidden in the wilderness to quickly Breakthrough to the vital Legendary Realm.
If the Federation restored its past stability and powerful control before then.
Then all the efforts and sacrifices previously made in the wilderness would eventually come to naught.
Without reaching the Legendary Realm, once the Federation's powerhouses returned to retake control of the wilderness, all non-Legendary existences would be forced back into dormancy and hiding.
Only by truly stepping into the Legendary Realm would one possess the qualifications to dialogue with the Federation.
After all, the Federation itself was not a monolithic block; there was also complex room for maneuvering within its internal power plays.
Due to these underlying reasons, the speed at which kings were competing in other regions clearly began to accelerate, and the intensity of the wars increased sharply as well.
Throughout the entire wilderness, except for the relatively peaceful Northwest, the flames of war were everywhere.
In this way, time quietly slipped by, and in the blink of an eye, several months had passed.
A rather regrettable piece of news was that the exploration of the Marnes Dungeon was progressing extremely slowly.
Within those dungeon ruins that resembled a giant wasteland, the elites of the Molten Iron Tribe had spent months in arduous searching, yet they had still failed to find any trace of Legendary items.
As the lord of the Ximu Territory, Charles had to temporarily set aside the exploration work and return to his territory to handle long-accumulated affairs.
An exploration team composed of Molten Iron Tribe elites continued to hold their ground in the dungeon, searching day and night for possible clues.
At this time, the long and damp rainy season of the wilderness seemed to be coming to an end.
Although the sky was still shrouded in gloom, the thick dark clouds had become much thinner, leaving only a sparse, cold drizzle that continued to fall incessantly, adding a touch of desolation to the wilderness.
Inside a very secret cave.
A black cat with knotted muscles and a sense of explosive power was walking slowly on steady, powerful limbs, flanked respectfully by one black and one Green Dragon, as if inspecting its own territory.
This black cat was none other than the King of Molten Iron, Garros, who had cast Polymorph.
Flanking him were the Black Dragon Serafina and the Green Dragon Ludwig.
Despite being in a state of Polymorph, Garros continued to emit waves of powerful Dragon Might.
This invisible pressure spread out like something physical, causing the undead creatures guarding the cave passages—those with faint blue soul fires burning in their eye sockets—to tremble involuntarily, their soul fires flickering violently.
Isn't Dragon Might supposed to weaken significantly in a Polymorph state?
Black Dragon Serafina and Green Dragon Ludwig exchanged a look silently, both reading the same shock and suspicion in each other's eyes.
They clearly felt that the Dragon Might currently emanating from their leader was no weaker than his original form during their last meeting.
The leader seemed to have become stronger.
In reality.
Garros didn't just'seem' to have become stronger.
He really had become quite a bit stronger.
"The resources of the wilderness are truly much richer than those in The Borderlands. Even just the Northwest region I control is fertile enough for me to enjoy to my heart's content."
Garros walked with a cat-like grace, sighing inwardly.
Compared to before, life now was much better.
As the territory gradually stabilized, the tribe's operations entered an efficient track.
During this period, the Molten Iron Tribe had extracted a massive amount of precious resources from the Northwest lands.
Dazzling magic gems, a wide variety of rare precious metals, Advanced magic plants with special effects, and an astonishing reserve of black oil.
Garros consumed these resources in large quantities almost every day, treating them like ordinary food.
Moreover, he never merely sampled them; instead, he devoured them ravenously like a gluttonous beast, without any restraint.
Furthermore, during this relatively peaceful period, his three powerful subordinates—the Amethyst Dragon-Lion, the Holy Spirit Deer, and the Phoenix—often served as Garros's sparring partners.
They took turns attacking, tempering Garros's body with their respective strikes and enhancing his resistance to various types of damage.
The Holy Spirit Deer would also heal and restore Garros's injuries, allowing him to endure longer.
This high-intensity training was enough to quickly and efficiently digest everything he ate.
The combination of the two allowed Garros, despite already being a Young Adult Dragon, to still grow as rapidly as a Young Dragon.
If this trend continued,
In a few more years, Garros would be able to naturally break through his current Rank and reach Rank 18 without having to undergo a long period of deep sleep.
If, on top of that, he underwent the deep-sleep evolution that should occur during the young adult stage,
Then, reaching Rank 20 the moment he stepped into adulthood would by no means be an unreachable goal.
As for Rank 21—the Legendary Domain—which symbolized transcending the mundane,
It was a massive watershed, and the difficulty of breaking through was extremely high.
Ordinary Rank 20 Dragonkin usually required at least two hundred years or more of long time to take that step and finally enter the hall of Legends.
Garros, naturally, was far from any ordinary Dragonkin.
His talent, accumulated resources, and training methods were all destined to significantly shorten the time required for this process.
However, even with such advantages, without other special opportunities, Garros did not have full confidence in his heart to become a Legend during his adulthood; the difficulty was extremely high, and such instances were few and far between in the entire Legacy records.
A few minutes later.
After passing through a long, deep, and dark corridor and crossing a hidden door, the scene before Garros's eyes suddenly opened up.
He had arrived at the core area of this Undead Cave.
What met his eyes were countless runes, so dense they were dizzying.
The runes, flickering with a dim light, were not in a state of chaos but were instead meticulously categorized and gathered together.
They were like chains extending from an ancient altar at the very center of the space, densely covering the entire massive area.
They occupied the ground, the surrounding walls, and even the high ceiling.
All were taken over by these rune chains shimmering with a mysterious luster.
And at the very center where all the rune chains converged, atop an altar constructed of some kind of black rock, a person was currently lying quietly.
This was a human male.
His skin was loose and covered in deep wrinkles, and his face was gaunt and haggard, yet one could still vaguely recognize facial contours that felt familiar to Garros.
He was none other than Nick, the former leader of the Gem Merchant Guild and one of Garros's earliest subordinates.
Decades of time had made Garros stronger, but they had aged this human to a state resembling withered wood.
Early on, when the Undead Lair transformation project began, Nick had left his merchant guild under Garros's orders and come to Ximu Town to wait patiently.
Now, he had been brought to the core of this Undead Cave to undergo the first Dragon-Forged Transformation Ritual.
Out of curiosity and a sense of importance, Garros had come here personally, prepared to observe the entire ritual process.
"Great King of Molten Iron, everything required for the first Dragon Scale Modification Ritual is ready."
"When do you wish for the ritual to officially begin?"
Black Dragon Serafina and Green Dragon Ludwig had already walked to the side of the altar and were now asking Garros.
Under their gaze, the muscular black cat's body began to undergo a startling transformation.
His size expanded rapidly, and his smooth black fur was replaced by hard scales shimmering with a metallic luster.
Majestic dragon horns pierced through the top of his head as they grew, and broad, powerful wings suddenly unfurled from his back.
In just a few breaths, the muscular cat had vanished, replaced by the King of Molten Iron's sturdy, majestic, and oppressive Crimson Iron Giant Dragon true form.
The space here was much more open than the narrow corridor from before, enough to accommodate Garros's body.
"Begin now,"
The Red-Iron Dragon said.
"As you command, my King!"
Green Dragon Ludwig immediately responded.
He used his tail to nimbly pick up a specially made, tightly sealed metal bucket.
Inside the bucket was the Red-Iron Dragon blood bestowed by Garros.
Garros's daily training intensity was extremely high, and he had also gone through many fierce battles; the dragon blood collected and stored during those times was sufficient for the Dragonblood Transformation ritual.
Using the nimble tip of his long tail as a brush, the Green Dragon dipped it into the thick, scalding dragon blood in the bucket.
Then, he began to sketch dragon-scale-like outlines and textures with the dragon blood on certain key parts of the human Nick's body on the altar.
At the same time,
The Black Dragon slowly closed her eyes.
Low, raspy incantations began to flow from her mouth in a rhythmic chant.
As the rhythmic dragon chant echoed through the cave, the negative energy permeating the space began to surge and boil violently, as if being awakened.
On the ground, the walls, and the ceiling,
The countless rune chains covering them lit up one by one as if injected with life, emitting a faint, eerie glow.
They wound around and clung to the human's limbs and torso on the altar, tightly connecting him to the entire magic array.
The Red-Iron Dragon stood quietly by the altar, taking in every detail of the ritual.
While the transformation ritual was taking place deep within the Undead Cave,
In the central region of the Serel Wilderness,
A massive Red Dragon, whose scales were as bright as blood as if he had just bathed in a pool of gore, was soaring freely through the leaden, gloomy sky, unabashedly radiating an aura of madness, cruelty, and chaos.
Wherever he passed,
Whether it was birds of prey in the sky or giant beasts on the ground, all fled in terror, not daring to approach this overlord of the skies.
—The Mad King, Red Dragon Gorthax.
He soared aimlessly through the vast sky for a while, seemingly looking for some kind of amusement.
Soon, he locked onto a nearby Human Duchy Base.
A cruel and excited grin spread across the dragon's face, and Gorthax let out a deafening, wild laugh.
Then, like a meteor carrying an aura of flames and death, the Red Dragon dove down.
A short while later.
The poor human base was completely enveloped and swallowed by towering flames.
The once life-filled camp instantly turned into a charred purgatory.
The earth cracked and melted under the high temperature of the Dragon Breath.
All guards who tried to resist were easily crushed like ants before Gorthax's absolute power and burned to ashes; not a single soul was left alive.
Red Dragon Gorthax strolled amidst the fresh ruins and scorched earth.
Feeling the aura of despair and destruction permeating the air, a hint of satisfied pleasure appeared on his face, and his desire for slaughter was temporarily calmed.
However, this brief sense of satisfaction did not last long.
Seemingly remembering something bothersome, the expression on Gorthax's spine-covered dragon face quickly became nasty and gloomy.
"That so-called Regional King in the northwest seems to be making quite a name for himself lately; his title has even reached my ears."
He growled lowly, his voice full of disdain and annoyance.
The King of Molten Iron, ruler of the northwest region, a fellow who, like him, belonged to the Dragonkin.
And according to those rumors, his reputation seemed to be faintly on the verge of overshadowing his own?
This made Red Dragon Gorthax feel extremely displeased, as if his majesty had been provoked.
"I heard he's a hybrid of a Red Dragon and an Iron Dragon?"
"Heh, an arrogant bastard! I'll let you act grand for a few more days, then I'll personally go and slaughter you and kick your head around like a ball."
Gorthax let out a malicious low growl.
A hybrid of a Red Dragon and an Iron Dragon.
This description caused a faint sense of familiarity to flash through the depths of Gorthax's heart, but he was violent by nature and too lazy to look deeply into the source of this negligible familiarity.
On the contrary,
Learning that the other party also had Red Dragon blood flowing within him did not give him any sense of kinship; instead, it further piqued his twisted excitement and desire for destruction.
However, Gorthax did not intend to set off for the northwest immediately.
He had always acted on a whim.
Before that, this Mad King prepared to go and see his dear Leticia first, and while he was at it, personally verify whether the news of the Frenzied Flame reappearing in the Sinkhole was true.