Chapter 394 Demonic Turmoil, Elven Silence, Continental Unification, War for the Royal City
In the year 289 of the Gregorian calendar, the King of Molten Iron officially began his slumber.
Borderlands, permafrost tundra, the Sel wilderness, southern kingdoms, and even distant human empires... the fates of all forces did not halt due to the temporary silence of a young dragon. Under the manipulation of the invisible hand of time, they continued to develop along their predetermined paths, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly.
In the year 292 of the New Calendar, the Iron Dragon Gordon, located in the Royal Court of Lortheon, entered his slumber after a long period of accumulation.
In the year 293 of the New Calendar, the Iron Dragon Sorog, who had been in charge of the tribe's affairs in the northwestern wilderness, soon fell into a deep sleep.
In the year 295 of the New Calendar, Samantha, a red dragon with a violent temperament who was in charge of alchemy industry and equipment research and development, was also driven by accumulated power to enter a critical growth slumber.
At this point, the core members of the Ignas dragon group entered a period of dormancy.
The rule and consolidation of the Ironforge in the Wildlands were mainly maintained by the experienced, middle-aged blue dragon Zoraia, and three capable fiefdom lords.
Time flies, and it is now the 300th year of the Gregorian calendar.
In the southern part of the permafrost tundra, the territory centered on Dragon Tooth Fortress has begun to take shape.
The blue dragon Heriam, who once shouldered a heavy responsibility and traveled north from the wilderness of Sel, has now shed his immaturity and entered his youth.
He successfully opened up a new territory for the Ironforge tribe on the vast and harsh frozen land.
The so-called Dragon Tooth Fortress is not a traditional brick and stone building, but a rough terrain carved out of a huge glacier. Its rugged and steep shape resembles the fangs of a giant beast protruding from the ice, hence the name.
Around the fortress.
Surrounding the breeding grounds maintained by geothermal wells, the workshops belching black smoke, and the settlements of the servants, the overall style is rugged and practical, under the orderly management of the blue dragon Hriam.
Everything was in perfect order.
The standing military force here is mainly composed of tough, hard-skinned ogre warriors who are not afraid of the cold.
In addition, there are a large number of dog-headed people, jackal people, and war lizard people responsible for building, maintaining, and raising the cold-resistant livestock unique to the North, as well as cultivating berry crops that can survive in the extreme cold.
These relatively weak families suffered some losses due to the harsh climate when they first arrived on the ice sheet.
However, their race is able to spread across many worlds, which gives them an extraordinary ability to adapt to different environments. After a round of brutal natural selection, the surviving individuals have gradually adapted to this frigid land.
Another indispensable force is the alchemical golem from the Black Iron Origin Great Workshop in the border region.
These steel constructs are more resistant to extreme low temperatures than flesh and blood. Although they occasionally malfunction due to internal freezing, they remain the most reliable backbone of the pioneering legion thanks to the careful maintenance of the accompanying alchemists.
That same year, Dragonfang Fortress witnessed its first significant battle on the tundra.
A troll clan called "Frostclaws," facing extreme food shortages, turned their greedy eyes to the well-managed pastures of Dragonfang Keep.
They rallied the tribe's warriors and launched a surprise attack on a snowy day.
However, they clearly underestimated their adversary and their intelligence work was woefully inadequate.
This attack was destined from the start to be a one-sided crushing defeat.
"For the glory of the Ironforge!"
Amidst the swirling snow, a burly ogre warrior unleashed a deafening roar.
His heavy axe whistled through the air as it cleaved down hard at the shoulder-neck junction of a troll! The axe blade embedded itself deeply into flesh and bone, producing a dull, teeth-grinding thud.
The troll was in pain, but its ferocity remained undiminished.
While trolls may be slightly inferior to ogres in terms of pure strength, they possess formidable regenerative abilities that are a major headache. In a one-on-one fight between trolls and ogres of the same level, the outcome is often unpredictable, with the two evenly matched.
Seeing that the injury was not fatal, the troll roared in anger.
With one hand he gripped the axe handle stuck in his flesh and bone, and with the other he held a rough spear, thrusting it swiftly and fiercely into the ogre's heart!
However, instead of panicking, the ogre revealed a ferocious smile.
"Die, you scum!"
His fingers pressed hard on a hidden mechanism in the axe handle.
Buzz—!
The runes engraved on the surface of the giant axe suddenly lit up with a crimson light, as if lava was flowing on the axe!
The next moment, BOOM!!!
A violent explosion rang out, and flames, shattered flesh, and bone fragments flew everywhere.
The troll's head, along with half of its upper body, was blasted to pieces by the sudden explosion!
Acid Arrow!
Not far away, a giant magician brandished a crude bone staff, and highly concentrated corrosive acid condensed into the shape of an arrow, which hissed as it shot towards the face of the ogre who had just completed a blast kill.
Logically speaking, given the relatively slow reaction speed of ogres, it would be difficult for them to avoid it.
But just as the acid arrow was about to hit, the ogre's armor, covered with thick steel plates, suddenly emitted a humming sound of gears turning and a hissing sound of steam erupting.
The cannibal, who should have been clumsy and dodging, suddenly became as agile as a cheetah.
With a swift sidestep, he narrowly avoided the deadly acid!
Exploding giant axe, powered heavy armor—these are all produced in the alchemy workshops of Shattered Ridge Hills, designed by the red dragon Samantha, and are standard weapons tailor-made for the ogre's retinue.
Similar scenes played out repeatedly across the battlefield.
The ogre warriors, equipped with alchemical gear, displayed extraordinary destructive power and mobility.
Meanwhile, on the flanks of the battlefield.
The alchemical golem legion dispatched by Dragonfang Fortress has officially arrived.
They are no longer the old-fashioned flesh rippers or steel rippers of the past.
Rockbreaker-I, a heavy-duty siege golem, is like a mobile miniature fortress.
They stand about five meters tall, cast entirely from dark black iron, with sharp edges and a powerful presence.
Its arms are not hands, but two huge battering rams that are constantly reciprocating and impacting, with complex vibration runes engraved on the surface of the rams.
Faced with the trolls' continued attempt to maintain their dense formation, the Rockbreaker Golem charged forward with earth-shaking, heavy steps.
They alternately and violently pounded the frozen ground with their two hammers.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each hammer blow caused a violent tremor in the ground within a small area and a visible circular shockwave! Trolls within the affected area were not only shaken and unable to stand steadily, but also felt their internal organs churning and their bones about to shatter.
Their formidable regenerative capacity, which they pride themselves on, is significantly less effective in the face of such internal shocks and disruptions.
The Rockbreaker Golem, like a merciless iron plow, carved bloody, deadly paths through the troll ranks.
The Flame Dragon Fury-I type is a long-range support golem, and its form is more like a series of steel turrets that can move autonomously.
They are more slender than the Rockbreakers, and carry a complex, large-caliber heavy crossbow on their backs. They do not fire ordinary crossbow bolts, but explosive bolts that have undergone special alchemical treatment.
The golem's single eye on its head flashed red, performing complex ballistic calculations and target locking.
Whoosh—Boom!
Arrows trailing crimson flames streaked across hundreds of meters like meteors, landing precisely in the area where the giant magicians were gathered. They then exploded violently, causing massive casualties instantly. The black oil that splattered everywhere mixed with magical flames and burned fiercely, forming insurmountable seas of fire.
…………
The outcome of this war was predetermined from the very beginning.
Alchemical golems with different functions worked closely together with heavily armed ogre warriors, forming an efficient and deadly killing system. The Frostclaw trolls were battered and routed.
Their formidable leader was quickly subdued and captured by the Blue Dragon Heriam himself, along with several elite golems.
Ultimately, the Frostclaw clan was completely defeated.
The young blue dragon, assessing the situation, led his followers in a pursuit, capturing all the remaining trolls of the clan who still had fighting power and absorbing them into Dragonfang Fortress.
Even after this battle, Khriam remained mindful of the core mission entrusted to him by his leader.
He insisted on prioritizing steady development and consolidating the foundation.
We will never start a new war unless absolutely necessary.
As the years passed, the Ironforge tribe gradually got on the right track in this territory of the frozen tundra, like deep roots taking hold in the frozen soil.
The dragon flag bearing the emblem of the Ironforge tribe fluttered proudly in the cold wind.
305 AD (New Calendar)
At the border, a demonic tide of unprecedented scale and intensity erupted in the abyss rift.
The people stationed here, Elvie and the snake-woman swordswoman Naris, fought hard, but were still no match for them.
Natasha, the golden dragon who observes the tribe's operations in the wilderness of Sel, received the distress call and immediately returned to defend, quelling the demonic tide.
However, since this incident, demonic disturbances originating from the abyss have become increasingly frequent.
The Ironclad tribe had to deploy more defenses in the Abyss Rift.
Moreover, not only at border areas, but also around the world, deep rifts of varying sizes have begun to appear one after another.
The vast majority of fissures were quickly contained by local forces before they could cause greater damage, but a few fissures successfully expanded, leading to devastating disasters.
Even in the northeastern region of the Sel Wilderness, a deep rift has appeared.
This rift was eventually suppressed and sealed by the peaks sculpted by the Mountain King.
Many intelligent beings and organizations privately suspect that this global shift in the Abyss is related to the increasingly aggressive Abyss development plans of the Holden human empire in recent years.
However, out of fear of the empire's power, no organization or country has voiced any positive questioning or condemnation.
Even the Elven Empire of Nausir, which has always been at odds with the Holden Empire, has remained unusually silent for some reason.
In the year 309 of the New Calendar, the orcish empire of Kantum, located on the continent of Seresia, completed the unification of the continent.
The fanatical orcs were not satisfied with this.
They sang war songs inherited from ancient times, filled with a desire for conquest, and began large-scale quarrying and logging, setting out to build a massive fleet capable of crossing endless oceans, their intentions self-evident.
However, while the Cantum Empire was known for its bravery, its alchemy and industrial capabilities were relatively underdeveloped.
In the short term, they cannot pose a substantial threat to other continents.
In the year 313 of the Gregorian calendar, the Southern War, which had lasted for decades, finally reached a decisive juncture.
After the Battle of Belton, the Kingdom of Lorthen continued its fierce resistance, but gradually found it difficult to sustain.
The royalist camp suffered repeated defeats, while the anti-royal camp, led by the Kingdom of Rebos, advanced triumphantly, seizing more than half of the territory of the Kingdom of Lorthen.
Within the kingdom, nobles and ministers pleaded with King O'Brien to accept reality and negotiate with the enemy, even if it meant ceding territory and paying reparations, just to preserve the kingdom's vitality.
The Kingdom of Ripos also sent envoys, bringing with them a ceasefire agreement.
Logically speaking, with the war having progressed to this point, this long ordeal could have ended if the Kingdom of Lorthen had chosen to back down.
However, all the peace proposals were rejected by King O'Brien with an unquestionable attitude, and the envoys from Reps ultimately returned empty-handed.
This iron-fisted king seemed determined to live or die with his kingdom, vowing never to sign any humiliating or unequal treaties.
In the same year, the Iron King's blood relatives, who had been asleep for more than twenty years—Gordon, Sorog, Samantha, and Alberto, who had been asleep even earlier—were awakened from their slumber one after another.
Their strength has improved significantly.
315 AD (Gregorian calendar)
The armies of the anti-king faction, like a converging torrent of steel, finally besieged the city of Waldor—the last core of the Kingdom of Lorthern, a royal city that had stood for a thousand years.
Dark clouds hung heavy over the royal city, so heavy they seemed to encapsulate the despair of the entire kingdom.
"Elena, come with me! We'll escape to the Sel Wilderness, to Garros's territory!"
Deep within the royal city, in a relatively intact palace courtyard.
The iron dragon Gorton, whose body was as tall as an iron tower, looked down at the human woman in front of him, his voice low and urgent.
Standing before him was Princess Crystal.
She still maintains a slender figure and elegant demeanor, but the traces of time have inevitably crept onto her face, making her look like a charming lady in her forties.
Even with the massive resources allocated by the royal family, and despite being a mage of a considerable level.
However, as long as one fails to enter the legendary realm, human lifespan will eventually come to an end. She can live to be around two hundred years old at most. She has already entered the halfway point of her life, and the speed of aging will only get faster and faster.
The wrinkles that appeared on the princess's face did not change the pure and stubborn possessiveness and protectiveness in Iron Dragon Gorton's heart.
His thinking remains unchanged.
As he spoke, Gorton unfurled his enormous iron-gray dragon wings.
The various amplification runes meticulously engraved on his wing membranes now glowed faintly, and his entire body exuded a mighty and powerful aura, with his dragon might spreading outwards as if it were a tangible force.
Late youth, Class of 2017.
Although he may not be a legend, he is by no means weak.
Almost at the same time that Gorton's dragon might spread, three figures silently appeared in the shadows surrounding the courtyard.
Blind Astor, mighty Theros, and graceful Elsa... the three children from back then have now grown into true dragon monks.
The energy flowing within them was thick and resilient, with an average level of 18.
This even surpasses the current Iron Dragons, Gorton.
"The allied forces' blockade of the capital is not monolithic; there are weaknesses that can be exploited, and I am fully aware of them."
"My senses are sharper than those of the sighted," said the blind Astor in a low voice.
“Your Highness, if you are determined to leave, you must act now as soon as possible.”
Three level 18 Dragon Monks, plus one level 17 Iron Dragon.
As long as they don't draw too much attention and avoid the notice of the enemy's legends, they have a good chance of escorting a princess away quietly from this city that is about to fall.
However, Elena simply gave Iron Dragon a calm, slightly sorrowful smile and gently shook her head.
“If I wanted to abandon the land that gave me birth and nurtured me, and the people who trusted me, I would not be here now.”
Her voice remained gentle, yet carried an unwavering firmness: "Just as I've told you many times before, Gordon."
"The people of Waldo will never see their princess desert her at the last moment."
"I deeply love this land beneath my feet, and no matter the outcome, I will live and die with it."
Iron Dragon Gorton remained silent.
His enormous dragon eyes stared at the princess's resolute face. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind, and said in an unusually serious tone, "Elena, I must tell you frankly."
“I, Gorton Ignas, will not sacrifice my life for the survival of human kingdoms.”
"Since you have made up your mind to go to the end with your kingdom... then, farewell."
With that, he took one last deep look at Princess Crystal, then suddenly flapped his wings, and his massive body soared into the sky with a whooshing sound.
The three dragon monks in the courtyard, watching the princess's lonely yet resolute back, could only let out a silent sigh as their figures gradually faded and disappeared into the shadows once more.
Meanwhile, atop the towering walls of Valdo.
King O'Brien, clad in his battle robes, now wore a face etched with weariness and determination, his once majestic countenance now etched with resignation.
He stood atop the city wall, gazing at the allied camps outside the city that stretched like an endless tide. In his eyes, there was no fear, no retreat, only a burning flame.
Not long after, the war horns tore through the sky once again.
The anti-king's camp has gathered its final offensive forces, ready to crush the last resistance of the Kingdom of Lorthen in one fell swoop.
In the sky, figures exuding legendary power stood suspended in mid-air, coldly looking down below.
On the ground, there were endless rows of soldiers, alchemical golems shimmering with magical light, and menacing siege cannons... The destructive torrent was poised to unleash its power.
A major battle is about to break out.
(End of this chapter)
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