Chapter 232 Where did this dragon vein pig come from?!
The cost of establishing the bloodline for the first time was not small. Gorton seemed to have something he couldn't say, so he remained silent for a long time. As time went by, Sorog was starting to feel the strain.
"Don't resist, let me complete the chain of blood ties first."
"We'll discuss this in more detail later."
As soon as he finished speaking, Sorog began to build the final bloodline chain, extending it to the Iron Dragon's mind.
Gorton hesitated for a few seconds—was it necessary to keep in touch with his poor brother who was probably still struggling in the wilderness?
He was no longer the naive and foolish fledgling dragon he once was. He knew that Sorog's words back then were all lies. The two had only spent a short time together and their relationship was not deep. Moreover, he did not think Sorog could achieve anything and was probably in a precarious situation.
If it were Garus, he would be reliable and powerful, and therefore trustworthy.
While he hesitated, the chain of blood ties had already extended to him.
Ultimately, Iron Dragon Gorton, though somewhat hesitant, did not resist and accepted the bloodline chain.
"The chain of blood ties is now complete!"
Sorog opened his eyes.
He could clearly sense Galos's presence, and even vaguely perceive the other's emotions—calm, wary, like a deep and vast ocean.
As for Samantha, her mental fluctuations were like a raging fire, threatening to sever the connection at any moment.
And then there's Gorton, because it's too far away, the connection is unstable and keeps appearing intermittently.
But in any case, the spell was successful.
Now, no matter how far apart they are, as long as they are on the same continent, the Ignas brothers can communicate on a spiritual level.
Of course, the Bloodline Chain is not a very advanced mental spell.
It can also be interfered with and blocked, but it is sufficient for everyday communication.
Tie Long looked down at his chest. As the spell was completed, the blood stopped flowing, making him feel much better.
at the same time.
Border region, northeastern part, Ten Thousand Snake Swamp.
Marsh gas hung like rotten silk from withered trees, the air was filled with damp moisture, and sunlight was cut into dappled patterns that fell in beams.
This is the main camp of the Poison Tail tribe.
Including their tails, these snake-people, whose average adult body length exceeds six meters, constantly roam and patrol the swamps, spreading various hidden curses and witchcraft.
Deep in the swamp.
The council hall of the Poison Tail tribe was built inside the skeleton of a giant snake that was half-submerged in the mud.
The serpent sorcerer Sargon was currently coiled on the mossy stone platform in the main position, his slender serpent tail silently slapping the damp ground.
Before him, two visitors were emanating an aura that sent chills down his spine.
Urom, the orc warlord of the Ironblood tribe, had blood-stained copper rings on his fangs, and his heavy breathing could be clearly heard from more than ten meters away; Bretta, the barbarian female warrior of the Dawn tribe, had bare shoulders covered with twisted tattoos, and a few yellowed bones were braided into her thick braids, and her whole body was steaming with the heat of sweat and blood.
These two are envoys sent by the Ironblood and Dawn tribes, respectively.
The news of the Ironforge tribe's defeat and annexation of the Goldtooth tribe did not escape the notice of humans and orcs.
Although they looked down on the treacherous and despicable goblins, the alchemy legion of the Golden Tooth tribe was not to be underestimated.
Humans and orcs are deeply wary of the rapidly rising Ironforge tribe, which defeated the Goldtooth tribe, and are unwilling to allow this unfamiliar tribe to continue to grow stronger.
Therefore, they have reached a consensus and are preparing to unite against the Iron Smelting Tribe, launching an attack before the Iron Smelting Tribe has digested the fruits of victory and become invincible.
Now all that's left is for the Poison Tail tribe to make a statement.
Sargon, the serpent sorcerer, is a tribal chief and is responsible for speaking with the tribal envoy at this time.
"Snakehead!"
Urom broke the silence first, his voice rough and unpleasant, like two pieces of raw iron rubbing together: "That red iron hybrid dragon from the Molten Iron Tribe swallowed Gold Tooth, and we're next! Poison Tail, Ironblood, Dawn, we must crush his throat like three fangs!"
His massive fist slammed onto the stone table, startling several venomous scorpions hiding in the crevices, causing them to scatter in panic.
Bretta crossed her arms, her bronze skin glistening in the dim light.
Her voice was low and hoarse as she said, “Urom is right. Those dragons are ruthless. The goblins of the Golden Tooth tribe have already submitted. Once he finishes digesting the Golden Tooth, the three of us will be skinned alive if we face him alone. The only way is to unite as one and crush him and his retinue into dust before his wings harden.”
Her sharp eyes swept over the snake-man warlock, and she said, "The poison-tailed warlock shamans, along with the iron-blooded warriors and our barbarians, are enough to tear the Ironforge apart. In the end, the borderlands will still belong to us."
Compared to the primitive directness of the orcs.
Barbarians who are not angry are better at communicating.
Opposite him, the snake-man sorcerer's tongue silently brushed across his lips.
"Hiss hiss hiss The rise of the Iron Smelting Tribe has indeed made even the vipers in the swamp uneasy."
His voice was smooth and cold, like a venomous snake slithering across damp, cold rocks, completely different from that of humans and beastmen.
"We, the Poison Tail Tribe, have always admired the bravery of the Ironblood Tribe and the decisiveness of the Dawn Tribe."
His words were not as direct as those of humans and orcs; his tone was soft and obscure.
The orc warlord grunted impatiently, his body odor growing stronger in the damp air. "Stop beating around the bush, Sargon! Just tell me, are the swarm of venomous snakes going to join us in killing that red dragon bastard, or are they going to wait to be torn apart one by one and made into snake soup?"
The human envoy was also somewhat displeased. He stared at the snake-man sorcerer and said, "We have come with sincerity. Let's stop being hypocritical and beating around the bush. The Ironforge Tribe is growing stronger every moment. We need to make a decision as soon as possible."
Both the Ironblood Tribe and the Dawn Tribe prefer to be straightforward.
The only difference between the two is that orcs are more savage, while humans are slightly more rational, but when the barbarians of the Dawn Tribe are enraged, they will be more ferocious than orcs.
"Your requests... hiss... are very direct."
The snake-man sorcerer said, "War, especially against top-tier monsters like dragons, is not wrestling in an arena. It requires precise venom, not blind charges. The strength of the Poison Tail tribe lies in silent strangulation and patient waiting."
What are you babbling about?!
Urom slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly, roaring irritably, "Sargun! Enough with the nonsense! Give me a straight answer!"
The snake-man guards around the council chamber stared coldly at it.
The thick-skinned orc didn't care, but just glared angrily at the snake-man sorcerer.
Bretta swatted a few poisonous mosquitoes that were sucking blood from her arm, and her gaze gradually became impatient.
Two savage, vulgar, and brainless fools. The snake-man sorcerer leaned forward slightly and said, "The dosage and timing of the poison determine whether it is a life-saving medicine or... a curse that hastens death. We need a more meticulous plan. We need to know where the most vulnerable scale of the Ironforge tribe is. Blindly attacking will only result in being burned to ashes by dragon flames."
The orc's eyelids twitched; he couldn't stand the snake-man sorcerer's long-winded speech.
She's indecisive and fussy.
No wonder they only like to hide in the back and play with curses and spells, showing no courage or honor whatsoever.
He wanted to raise his fist and smash it into the snake-man sorcerer's face, crushing his head.
However, considering the purpose of this trip and the fact that they were on someone else's territory, the orc warlord was trying hard to suppress his anger.
finally.
The snake-man sorcerer got to the point.
"Three days... hiss... The oldest ancestral spirit shaman of the Poison Tail tribe will perform a psychic ritual to probe the weaknesses of the Ironforge tribe and find the most suitable opening for the venomous fangs to penetrate."
"The Poison Tail Tribe will give you a specific answer at that time."
Border area, southeast, steel nail guard post.
"Let's first communicate with Garos and Samantha to test the effects of the Bloodline Chain, and also talk about Gorton."
After recovering from the cost of casting the spell, Iron Dragon Sorog's eyes shone with psionic energy.
Immediately afterwards.
With a gentle tapping sensation reminiscent of bloodlines, Galos and Samantha simultaneously received a communication from Sorog on a mental level through the Blood Ties. Moreover, with the mind warlock acting as an intermediary, through the iron dragon Sorog, Galos and Samantha could also sense each other's thoughts.
"Something terrible has happened."
Tie Long's voice was serious and earnest.
“Gorton is still alive. I located him using the bloodline chain.”
He presented the mental forms he had seen to Galus and Samantha.
"What a fat pig! It has the characteristics of an iron dragon. Is it a dragon vein pig?! It looks very juicy. Roasting it in flames and sprinkling it with some spices would make it very delicious."
The red dragon drooled.
When she first saw Fei Tielong through the link, she didn't realize who he was.
(End of this chapter)
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