Free Web NovelSouthern Arotala Continent.
The Bloodskull tribe’s camp sprawled across the wasteland, like a slumbering giant beast.
Rough fences enclosed irregular patches of land, densely packed with hide tents and hastily built watchtowers. Deep within the camp, inside a massive tent, the bonfire blazed fiercely. Sparks rose with the heat waves, flickering and dying intermittently.
Two figures stood beside the bonfire.
One of them was none other than the Crimson War Chieftain, Barom.
He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging beneath his hide vest.
His injuries had fully recovered. The wounds he had sustained on the Black Rock Wilds were now nothing more than faint white scars, covered by new skin.
Now, he appeared completely unharmed.
Standing across from him was another orc.
The Skull-Crushing War Chieftain, Kilrog.
He was slightly shorter than Barom, but much more robust.
His shoulders were as broad as a city gate, his neck almost as thick as his head, his jaw protruding forward with tusks curling up from his lower lip, bearing notches from old battle scars.
At this moment, his eyes were filled with undisguised contempt.
“Barom, you cowardly piece of filth.”
“I heard that on the Black Rock Wilds, you didn’t even scratch the scales of the red-iron great dragon. You ordered a retreat without fighting him. And you came back almost unscathed, completely intact.”
“What a disgrace to our Kantum, a stain on the name of the Bloodskull War Chieftain.”
“Is orc blood still flowing through your veins? Or has something replaced it?”
The bonfire crackled loudly.
Hearing Kilrog’s belittling and sarcastic words, the Crimson War Chieftain Barom’s face flushed with anger. His nostrils flared, and his fists clenched involuntarily, his knuckles cracking.
But in the end, he did not retort.
Because it was the truth.
No matter how many excuses he had, the fact remained that he had turned his back on the enemy.
In the Kantum Empire, any retreat was a sign of weakness.
To raise a blade against a powerful enemy and die bravely—that was glory. To come back alive carried the stench of shame.
But Barom was not convinced.
He admitted his weakness. At that moment, he had chosen to preserve his legion rather than die gloriously. But that did not mean he could tolerate his fellow chieftain chewing over the matter like chewed-up meat right in front of him.
“Kilrog, spare me the nonsense.”
“I’ll earn your respect with my fists.”
He raised one hand, curling his fingers one by one. “If I win, you’ll kneel before me, admit you’re a coward, and admit your name isn’t fit to be mentioned alongside mine. If you win, then shut your mouth. From today on, before you bring up the Black Rock Wilds in front of me, think about how many teeth you have left.”
If you disagree, then fight.
This was daily life in the Kantum Empire, and the best way for orcs to solve problems. No conflict couldn’t be resolved with a fistfight, and if one wasn’t enough, then two would do.
The Skull-Crushing War Chieftain’s eyes lit up, burning with battle lust. He grinned, baring all his teeth.
“Good. I’ll smash that cowardly heart of yours and see what color it really is now.”
Their eyes met.
Lightning seemed to crackle between their gazes. The air grew taut, and even the bonfire’s flames seemed to shrink.
Just then, a figure lifted the tent flap and walked in slowly.
It was a female orc.
She looked to be well along in years.
Her hair was gray-white, like frost covering rocks in deep winter, braided into dozens of thin plaits that hung behind her head. At the end of each braid was tied a fragment of bone carved with dense runes, gently clicking together as she moved.
She was a head shorter than the two War Chieftains, and her build was far less robust.
Her skin was a deep tan, and her face and exposed arms were covered in densely packed runes.
The chief shaman of the Bloodskull tribe, and also the Great Chieftain.
Saltoja, the Fated Sorceress.
The saints of the Kantum Empire basically did not meddle in affairs.
Those lofty beings were immersed in their own domains. Mundane matters were nothing more than fleeting clouds to them.
It was shamans like Saltoja, the chief shaman and Great Chieftain, who were the true rulers of the Bloodskull tribe.
She held an exalted position throughout all of Kantum.
Even Fated War Chieftains like Barom and Kilrog had to bow their heads before her.
At the same time, the two War Chieftains noticed that another figure had entered with the Great Chieftain.
It was a robust figure shrouded entirely in a black robe.
The robe’s fabric was thick and rough, as if cut directly from the hide of some giant beast. The edges had no stitching. The hood was pulled low, concealing its face, with only occasional flashes of metallic luster visible at the hood’s edge.
The figure was hunched over, chewing on something.
Crunch.
The sound of bones breaking under immense force.
Saltoja walked to the bonfire and stopped.
“With enemies at the gate, you two are here tearing each other apart.”
“The elves of Nausil are sharpening their blades, the dragons of Atlantis haven’t left yet, and my two War Chieftains—the sharpest blades of the Bloodskull tribe—are in the camp, ready to break each other’s bones.”
She paused, her gaze falling on each of their faces in turn.
“Kantum doesn’t need infighting War Chieftains. That only saves our enemies the effort of sharpening their knives.”
Hearing this, Barom unclenched his fists, and Kilrog withdrew his bared teeth. Both took half a step back, like two fighting dogs that had been called off.
At the same time, the Crimson War Chieftain lowered his head slightly.
“Great Chieftain, the first battle at the Black Rock Wilds was a defeat.”
“I was too weak. I chose to retreat in the face of the enemy, tarnishing the empire’s glory.”
“Please punish me.”
Saltoja looked at him, then looked away without continuing on the topic.
Beside her, the Skull-Crushing War Chieftain Kilrog also changed the subject.
“Great Chieftain, the feeble elves of Nausil have commissioned the Scarlet Emperor Cangxing of Atlantis to fight for them.”
“That dragon single-handedly crushed Barom’s legion. The military formations and legends couldn’t stop him.”
“What’s our next move for the offensive?”
Kilrog continued, “If we don’t deal with him, or at least hold him back, we’ll suffer massive losses with every step forward. Our warriors might not even see the elven city walls before they become dragon food.”
Barom raised his head, also looking at the Great Chieftain.
That was what he wanted to ask too.
The Scarlet Emperor Cangxing was equivalent to a Fated great dragon. Unless the Great Chieftain stepped in personally, it would be hard to stop him.
But the Great Chieftain was already quite old. She couldn’t act freely, or she would meet her decline even sooner.
Below the level of saints and immortals, all physical existence was subject to the wear and tear of time.
Saltoja’s face was withered, but her eyes shone brightly.
She said, “The only ones who can deal with a great dragon are great dragons like them.”
With that, she turned slightly, her gaze falling on the black-robed figure behind her.
The two War Chieftains were taken aback.
They had been focused on the Great Chieftain before, only sparing a glance at the black-robed figure. But now, following Saltoja’s gaze, they looked again at that robust form shrouded in black.
Under the orcs’ gaze, a chill quietly spread.
It came from no particular direction.
It was as if winter itself had descended upon this camp by the bonfire. The bonfire flickered violently. The flames struggled, growing lower and lower, until they went out.
Crunch.
Another crisp sound of bone breaking.
The black-robed figure stuffed the remaining piece in its hand into its mouth beneath the hood, chewed a few times, swallowed with a bob of its Adam’s apple, and downed it.
At that moment, the chill surged.
The black robe froze into a solid mass from the cold seeping from within, then shattered like fragile glass into countless fragments, falling to the ground.
The figure beneath was revealed.
He was tall, his entire body covered in dark silver scales. The edges of the scales glowed with a faint blue cold light, like the color deep within a glacier.
His head had draconic features.
A protruding snout, vertical pupils, a bony horn crown extending back from his forehead... but his overall outline was closer to humanoid. He stood upright on two legs, had long arms, and a thick tail trailing behind him.
His pupils were an icy blue, like the ancient, unchanging ice deep beneath the polar ice caps.
Without a doubt, this was a great dragon in human form.
An ancient chrome dragon.
The Deep Freeze Tyrant, Claudia.
Claudia extended his tongue, covered in tiny barbs, and licked the bits of meat from the corner of his mouth.
“Saltoja.”
“I’m hungry now.”
He said, his icy blue vertical pupils slowly shifting, first scanning Barom, then Kilrog. Both Fated War Chieftains unconsciously tensed their muscles under that gaze.
“Very, very hungry.”
“Tell me, when can I eat my fill?”
Then, as if thinking of something, he grinned maniacally, opening his mouth wide.
A full set of sharp teeth was exposed with the motion.
They were uneven. Some were like a shark’s triangular teeth, flat and wide, with fine serrations along the edges. Others were like dagger-like fangs, curved and sharp, perfect for stabbing and tearing.
“I think of the elves’ tender bodies.”
“Ah, elves. Their long, slender limbs. The texture when bitten is more wonderful than any other race. The muscle fibers are fine, not coarse like you orcs. The fat is evenly distributed. Every bite has just the right amount of oil melting in the mouth. The bones are just the right amount of crunch, not boring like a dwarf’s.”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but raise his claws and tear the fine scales on his own face.
Blood gushed from the wound, streaming down his cheek. Claudia curled his tongue and licked the flowing blood into his mouth.
“So delicious.”
“Those elves, when I bite off their limbs, they scream. The sound of screaming is also very nice, like a premium seasoning that makes the meat even more tender.”
“I miss it so much I’m going crazy.”
Seeing him like this, the orcs frowned slightly.
They were savages, sure.
But being savage didn’t mean being sick.
The chrome dragon before them seemed completely unhinged, just as abnormal as the rumors said. Barom and Kilrog exchanged a glance, but neither spoke.
“Of course.”
Claudia continued, his voice suddenly turning sharp. “I also crave the tough flesh of dragons.”
“Dragons... my own kind... their meat isn’t as tender as an elf’s, but more chewy. Once that layer of scales is peeled off, the flesh beneath has a bounce to it. The feeling of tendons snapping between the teeth is wonderful.”
“And that... Scarlet Emperor Cangxing.”
“I’ve heard of him. The Red and Iron Dragon, a rare hybrid.”
“What would his meat taste like? The taste of iron? That astringent-sweet metallic flavor? Or the taste of fire? That spicy, burning sensation on the tongue? I can’t wait to taste it.”
“Just imagining it excites me.”
The chrome dragon let out a low, guttural sound, as if savoring some imagined flavor.
Gurgle.
Suddenly, a sound came from his stomach.
The chill grew even more intense.
His sticky-sweet voice suddenly stopped, then changed.
His vertical pupils narrowed slightly, the pupils contracting into a thin, vertical slit. He tilted his head, his gaze landing on Saltoja’s face.
“I suddenly feel hungrier. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
“Orc meat, honestly, tastes terrible. But when I’m too hungry... I can’t help but use orcs to pick my teeth.”
Both War Chieftains showed expressions of displeasure.
Beside them, the Bloodskull Great Chieftain showed no dissatisfaction with Claudia’s words.
“Patience, Deep Freeze Tyrant.”
“I’ve already prepared plenty of food for you.”
She raised a hand covered in runes and pointed to the north.
“The empire is already preparing the next wave of the offensive.”
“Soon, the next wave of attacks will be launched. Then, whether it’s elves or dragons, they will all become your food. You can eat to your heart’s content.”
The humanoid chrome dragon nibbled on his own index finger and asked, “How soon is soon?”
The old sorceress smiled. “Soon enough that you won’t need to use orcs to pick your teeth.”
On the other side.
The sky of the small world was as gloomy as ever, gray and dim, as if shrouded by layers of yellow sand.
The red-iron dragon was currently standing on a hill.
His gaze was focused, his eyes fixed on the spatial crystal between his claws. Through the crystal’s facets, something could be seen sealed inside.
It was pitch black, like a lump of shrunken coal.
The Cursed Meteorite.
“Nausil’s spatial sealing technology...”
“Truly extraordinary.”
Garoth said silently to himself.
He flipped the crystal, observing it from different angles.
As far as he knew, the death of Kantum’s demigod saint, the leader of the Bonebreaker tribe, was not only due to being attacked by an immortal and the elves’ moon simultaneously, but also because Nausil’s spatial sealing technology had played a crucial role.
A saint stood at the pinnacle of the Material Plane.
Speed, strength, perception, reaction—all surpassed the understanding of living beings.
Even if they couldn’t win, they could at least escape.
But he hadn’t escaped.
“The light of the elves’ moon is calm and harmless. It can even guide those who have lost their way. But when it transforms into a blood-colored light that illuminates the land, it seals the heavens and locks the earth, making it difficult even for a saint to escape.”
Garoth recalled some descriptions of the elves’ moon from his inherited memories.
Among the three empires of Bernardo, Kantum had the most saints.
But overall, Kantum was actually the weakest. The reason, to a large extent, was a lack of empire-level strategic weapons like the Nausil Moon.
It was worth noting that the Nausil Moon was a magical construct, not an alchemical one.
There was a huge difference between the two.
Magical constructs relied on the delicate weaving of magic and runes, closer to manipulating the fundamental rules of the world. Alchemical constructs relied on material transformation and equivalent exchange of energy, closer to deep processing and reshaping of matter.
The former emphasized rules, the latter emphasized matter.
However, whether it was the magical industry or the alchemical industry, all paths led to the same destination.
When developed to an extremely high level, both could affect and harm the saints or immortals of the Material Plane.
But if they were used to deal with those strange entities outside the Material Plane...
They fell a bit short.
At the end of the day, this was a world where power resided in the individual.
The higher one went, the more important one’s own strength became. In the end, external things were limited. But the vast majority of living beings possessed power that couldn’t even be called “mighty power.”
Among them, even Garoth now.
“Master of Atlantis, Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, the Undying Dragon...”
He silently recited his own titles.
These titles sounded imposing and made him seem like a deity in the eyes of mortals.
But he knew that wasn’t enough.
At any moment, he might be reduced to dust by true “mighty power.”
This fear and unease of not being able to control his own future constantly enveloped him, just like this gray, dim sky pressing down on him, never knowing what tomorrow would bring.
“Only strength can comfort me.”
“I need more strength, more strength.”
The red-iron dragon’s gaze was deep as he suppressed the surging thoughts within.
He once again stared at the meteorite in the spatial crystal.
His claws began to exert force.
Crunch, crunch!
Crack after crack appeared, like lightning, like tree branches, starting from the crystal’s surface, then rapidly spreading from the inside out.
The cracks grew more numerous and denser.
Finally, with a crisp shattering sound, the crystal broke into countless fragments, gradually dissolving into space and disappearing.
At the same time.
The shrunken meteorite was exposed to normal space and instantly expanded back to its original volume.
Its surface was pitted and scarred, crisscrossed with fissures. Countless dark red energy lights could be faintly seen flowing within, and the surrounding air twisted unnaturally.
But no matter how heavy or strange it was, it couldn’t shake the grip of the red-iron dragon’s claws.
Garoth didn’t hesitate.
He drove one claw straight through the meteorite’s shell, reaching inside.
After a moment of stillness, countless strands of frenzied flame surged toward his body like a tidal wave.
The great dragon’s eyes instantly turned blood red.
A burning heat, ignited from within, spread throughout his body. It was as if every blood vessel had become a conduit for molten magma, and every bone had turned into softening iron ingots. His body trembled violently, the muscles beneath his scales convulsing constantly.
Then, his chest cavity reacted first.
His ribs, as if pushed apart by an invisible giant hand from within, bent outward one by one, forming a visibly expanded structure.
Garoth could feel it.
The volume inside his chest cavity was rapidly expanding. With every breath, he inhaled several times more air than before.
At the same time, his breast scales became translucent. The originally dark, metallic, heavy scales were now like glass half-melted by high heat, allowing him to clearly see the energy flows beneath the scale surface.
Golden-red light snaked and flowed beneath the scales, like a thousand rivers.
When they converged in the very center of his chest cavity, it was like a sun imprisoned within his body.
Sizzle!
He felt as if a god had forged a blade from raging flame, forcibly thrust it down his throat, and driven it straight down.
“Ahh!”
Amidst the excruciating pain of bone and flesh melting, the red-iron dragon raised his head and let out a low roar. The sound was a mix of pain and pleasure. Pain accounted for seven parts, but the remaining three were an indescribable ecstasy.
From his throat to his abdomen.
The central row of dragon scales carbonized and shattered, revealing the bare flesh beneath.
But it was no longer normal flesh.
A structure like an energy-conducting channel was taking shape. Its edges were slightly raised, directly connected to his now expanded chest cavity.
His snout widened outward. His cheekbones, upper jawbone, lower jawbone—all the facial bones were making harsh, clattering sounds as they reshaped. The volume inside his oral cavity visibly expanded, growing several times larger.
At the same time, his wings grew broader, their surfaces covered in glowing, flame-like patterns.
The entire process was extremely intense.
It didn’t take long for the red-iron dragon’s mutation to end.
He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling violently.
Looking around, he found that the ground centered on himself had been melted into magma, a sea of red earth. The previous meteorite had also become part of this magma, slowly cooling.
“The Dragon Pearl... the Dragon Pearl’s energy reserve has nearly doubled?”
When Garoth concentrated his senses to perceive his own state, he immediately noticed a drastic change in the Dragon Pearl. It was now operating in an entirely new way.
“Could this mutation have hit the jackpot?”
Garoth suppressed his excitement and began to carefully observe his current mutated form.
Overall, the color of his dragon scales had turned a deep, oppressive black, like the surface of cooled lava. Beneath the black scales, countless glowing fissures shone through, forming complex energy patterns.
From his snout to the tip of his tail, from his dragon wings to the back of his claws.
They covered his entire body.
Garoth’s eyes turned into vertical pupils, glowing with a starry light as he gazed at himself.
Then, he raised his front claw and lightly raked it across his own breast scales.
Crunch!
A crack appeared where his claw tip fell.
Without a doubt, his physical defense had greatly decreased, even more so than in his previous Rift Form. Rift Form could at least maintain basic defensive capabilities, but the scales of this form were noticeably more fragile.
But it seemed not that simple.
Garoth examined his scales.
The True Eye shone with even more brilliant light.
When the field of vision zoomed in to the extreme, the microscopic structure of the dragon scales was displayed before his eyes.
He discovered that a major change had occurred inside his scales. They were no longer a dense defensive layer but had become a structure similar to a multi-layered resonant cavity. Countless tiny cavities were stacked layer upon layer.
He thought for a moment, then raised his claw.
The light flashing between the gaps in his scales flickered, and a dragonqi bomb took shape at a speed far exceeding Garoth’s expectations.
Almost the moment the thought arose in his mind, the energy had already gathered. Clearly, this was some effect of this mutation.
Then, Garoth smashed the dragonqi bomb directly against his own chest.
Boom!
A dazzling explosion erupted.
At the same time, his dark black scales lit up. The escaping flames and shockwaves were completely captured, then converged toward his chest cavity along the energy patterns on his body’s surface. It was smooth and fast, like water flowing along a riverbed back to the sea.
Garoth was almost unharmed, and he had recovered most of the energy from that dragonqi bomb.
His spirits lifted as he realized the change in his scales.
“Physical defense decreases, energy defense increases, and it also has a powerful energy absorption effect?”
He continued testing.
Soon, Garoth obtained more specific results.
It wasn’t just fire damage.
Lightning, light energy, cold energy... any elemental energy attack would be resisted and absorbed by his scales.
Physical resistance weakened, but energy resistance was maxed out, almost to the point of immunity. And that absorbed energy would then be converted into his own reserves, replenishing his consumption.
“This mutated form mainly strengthens energy aspects.”
Garoth reached a preliminary conclusion.
Now, he needed more testing and verification.
The dark red-iron dragon spread his wings and took to the sky.
He opened his reshaped snout. The volume inside his oral cavity felt foreign even to himself.
At the same time, as Garoth breathed, his Abyssal Breath Lungs began to work, forming visible air currents. All the energy around him was greedily extracted by his respiratory system, like a vortex devouring everything nearby.
It was like adding fuel to the fire.
Various energies reacted violently within his chest cavity. All the light patterns on his body lit up.
Whoosh!
A massive torrent, several times the diameter of the great dragon’s head, surged from his mouth. It formed an almost perfectly straight pillar, illuminating the gray-dim sky and tearing through space.
Its speed was like lightning.
It seemed that the moment the great dragon’s snout had just released the breath, the very next instant, the breath struck a mountain peak in the distance.
There was no explosion.
Or rather, the word “explosion” was insufficient to describe the scene.
The mountain peak vaporized the moment it came into contact with the breath, transforming directly from a solid state into a plasma state. A mushroom cloud rose from the impact point, and a shockwave spread outward, blasting countless rocks and dust into a ring-shaped wall.
The ground shook, and the sky wailed.
Garoth squinted his eyes.
The effect far exceeded expectations.
And... the charging time was minimized, and the speed was much faster than before.
Normal dragon breath required him to compress his chest cavity, mobilize energy, and perform the final focusing in his throat.
But in this form, the energy within him seemed to always be in a state of readiness, like a bowstring that was always fully drawn. He just needed to release it, and it would instantly shoot out.
“Now this is true dragon breath.”
Garoth closed his snout, thinking to himself.
A great dragon’s breath had always been one of its most powerful attack methods.
However, its wind-up was too obvious. It was more of a deterrent, useful for dealing with large-scale legions or stationary targets. But just like Garoth’s “Dragon Emperor Interdimension,” it was hard to use effectively in combat against opponents of the same level.
Enemies wouldn’t just stand there and wait for you to charge up.
Whoosh!
The Dragon Qi awakened, and Garoth shaped the Star Heads.
All heads simultaneously opened their wide snouts, breathing in different directions.
Whoosh!
Almost instantly, three pillars of breath erupted from the dark red-iron dragon’s mouth, crisscrossing the sky and the earth.
Boom, boom, boom!
The sky was torn apart, and the earth was burning.
The apocalyptic scene reflected in the great dragon’s pupils. Under his destruction, the spatial structure of this small world was becoming unstable, with visible cracks appearing in the air.
Garoth paused his breath.
He keenly noticed that where his breath passed, a dark red energy residue had formed. It remained in the sky like flocculent residue, persisting for a long time. On the ground, it flowed like magma, emitting a pungent smell.
It didn’t solidify. It continuously radiated a dark red energy that distorted the air.
Like hell itself.
At the same time, as Garoth breathed, these energies surged into his lungs. His previous consumption was quickly restored, as if nourishing himself with his own remnants.
He also felt a connection with these embers.
They were like extensions of his body, part of his senses. When they accumulated to a certain degree, he could detonate them, causing destruction on a larger scale.
Earth-shattering, inescapable.
“Rift Form is a drawn blade.”
Garoth thought thoughtfully. “This form now... is like a moving volcano, full of destruction and devastation. But the price is also obvious. Close-combat ability has been weakened.”
He lowered his head to look at his now relatively fragile scales, then felt the surging energy reserves within his body.
“Let’s name it the Ember-Annihilating Form for now.”
Garoth thought to himself.
Overall, he felt that the Ember-Annihilating Form was superior to the Rift Form.
This type of mutation was equivalent to becoming a “glass cannon.”
The power of long-range destruction and devastation was maximized, at the cost of becoming slower and having weakened physical defense, making him vulnerable to being engaged in close combat.
However, Garoth was different.
His energy reserves had increased, and his recovery speed had become faster.
And for Garoth, due to the existence of the Undying Life trait, energy meant life. As long as he had enough energy, he could continuously regenerate and continuously fight.
He was now an “adamantite cannon.”
Moreover, with Garoth’s completely overflowing physical attributes, even his weakened physical defense was still extremely high, beyond the imagination of ordinary creatures.
This wasn’t a true weakness.
“There’s no best, only better.”
“This Ember-Annihilating Form is quite good.”
The dark red-iron dragon nodded his lower jaw in satisfaction.
He strongly suspected that if he were to activate the Radiant State in this frenzied flame form, coupled with the trait amplification of Born from Death, he might be able to directly severely wound an immortal-level existence.
Of course, that was provided he could hit the target.
Immortals weren’t stationary targets. They had unimaginable speed and reaction abilities. But Garoth’s current breath speed had greatly increased, so he might find an opportunity.
Then, Garoth concentrated, continuing to familiarize himself with his current mutated form.
Dragon breath and dragonqi bombs plowed through the land time and again.
The small world became barren, scarred everywhere, a picture of apocalypse and finality. The ground was covered in melted pits and flowing embers.
After some time passed, Aerian’s message arrived.
The next wave of war was imminent.
At this, the dark red-iron dragon could hardly wait.
Garoth in his Ember-Annihilating Form always wanted to blow something up.
Like a fully drawn bow urging the archer to release the bowstring, he wanted to unleash, to erupt, to pour destructive energy onto a target.
But merely ravaging the lifeless small world didn’t satisfy him.
Molten lava cooled, hills crumbled, space shattered.
These were all dead things, and the destruction of dead things gave no feedback.
He wanted to see flesh shatter in flames, living bodies vaporize in dragon breath, and lives reduced to ashes in a grand bloom.
Then, he would appreciate his own masterpiece like a work of art.
