Chapter 643: The Twenty-First Year
A month slipped past.
The Druddigon clan had officially woven themselves into the resilient fabric of the Dragon Clan.
Whoever dared to make an enemy of the Dragon Clan, they would fight.
They had no choice.
Riding along behind Big Brother was simply far too luxurious a lifestyle.
Any minor adversaries were instantly dispatched by the Flygon. If the Flygon couldn't resolve the friction, the Aerodactyl and Altaria vanguards from the neighboring peaks would swoop in to clean house.
Not only did they permanently shed the agonizing dread of being randomly bullied by stronger local dragons, but they could also comfortably sprawl out on the flat rocks and casually watch the skyward forces engage in combat.
When the mood struck them, they would execute a few stealthy Dragon Claws or Dragon Tails to launch a sneak attack.
Watching the Pokémon that had historically bullied them getting utterly frustrated yet completely incapable of retaliating against them brought an unimaginable, exquisite joy to their hearts.
Furthermore, a magnificent miracle manifested every single day: a swarm of bugs proactively marched right to their doorstep to serve as additional, high-protein meals.
Three meals a day.
Every single meal, all-you-can-eat.
Only those who lived this luxurious life could truly comprehend its bliss.
Reflecting on their historical existence... starving for nine meals over the span of three days, and only having enough sustenance to defecate once a week. Was that an existence fit for a dragon?
The Druddigon clan had definitively resolved their hearts. From this day forward, they were the thousand-year cornerstone tribe of the Dragon Clan—the foundational pillars of the empire.
Kazuya naturally remained entirely oblivious to the rich, dramatic psychological narrative unfolding within the Druddigon clan's minds.
He only verified one concrete reality: with the seamless integration of the Flygon, coupled with the absolute fealty of the Druddigon clan, the daily volume of Dragon-type natural energy he absorbed had tangibly multiplied.
Viewing it through this lens, charting a course to conquer and subjugate draconian clans was undeniably the correct operational trajectory. He could comfortably continue down this path.
However, while the logic held true, for a considerable chronological window moving forward, the Dragon Clan likely wouldn't integrate any brand-new dragon lineages.
The remaining draconian clans were practically all garrisoned deep within the central nexus or the western sector of the Rocky Mountain range. Those coordinates were entirely too distant from the current territories held by his three skyward vanguards.
Maintaining an excessive geographic distance between sovereign outposts wasn't conducive to extending rapid mutual reinforcements, and it exponentially multiplied the logistical risks of mobilizing troops.
Consequently, Kazuya formulated a new operational blueprint: he would personally lead the three skyward vanguards to systematically carve their way forward, steadily expanding the absolute boundary of their primary headquarters.
Originating from the southernmost perimeter, they would radiate their influence northward inch by inch, gradually swallowing the territories of the Rocky Mountain range until they physically pressed against the borders of those central dragon clans.
This pacing served a dual purpose. Currently, the three skyward vanguards likely lacked the raw martial baseline required to follow Kazuya into a full-scale war against those pseudo-legendary dragon clans.
During the chronological window spent carving their way forward, their individual combat proficiencies would secure a massive, structural reinforcement through continuous, intense combat. By the time they officially breached the perimeter of the pseudo-legendary clans, the combined might of the three vanguards surely wouldn't be so pathetic that they couldn't dismantle at least a single pseudo-legendary lineage.
With the resolution firmly locked in, five years flashed past in a dizzying blur.
This year officially marked the twenty-first year since Kazuya had arrived in this unforgiving era, and concurrently, the eleventh year since his younger brother had departed home to cultivate his martial path at the volcano.
The Grassland Heartland.
Kazuya cast a sweeping glance over the assembled dragons, who had practically settled into a permanent retirement-community lifestyle, and couldn't help but shake his head in helpless resignation.
These past few years had been virtually devoid of any internal or external friction. This prolonged era of absolute peace had caused the Dragon Clan members garrisoning the grassland and the swamp to regress into a state of profound, lethargic complacency.
Five years had elapsed. To claim their combat parameters hadn't experienced a single mathematical increase would naturally be a slight exaggeration, but it undeniably wasn't far from the truth. Regarding the patriarchs commanding the great tribes, Kazuya genuinely couldn't guarantee their absolute levels had increased by even a single digit.
Fortunately, regarding the lower-level members of the collective, their progression was at least somewhat visible. After all, occasional internal sparring sessions and domestic frictions still sparked. Clans possessing an inherently hyper-aggressive, restless biology—such as the Rampardos, Kommo-o, Scrafty, and Haxorus lines—still maintained their daily combat training regimens.
It was merely the absolute frequency of those exercises that had visibly, drastically degraded.
Kazuya spent the vast majority of his days away from the heartland, unable to strictly enforce discipline, and Florges possessed a remarkably soft, indulgent disposition. This naturally culminated in the current, lethargic status quo.
Yet, while their combat parameters hadn't experienced any explosive growth, their demographic population similarly hadn't undergone any massive multiplication.
Although the Dragon Clan currently boasted six distinct tribes whose individual populations exceeded a hundred members, compared to the data from five years prior, the actual "newborn dragon demographic" had likely increased by less than two hundred.
This mathematically translated to the thirteen great tribes of the Dragon Clan collectively producing roughly forty eggs per year.
The singular, comforting variable Kazuya could extract to console himself was that, because the demographic scale hadn't suffered an explosive hyper-inflation, the overall logistical food consumption of the Dragon Clan hadn't spiked drastically either. In fact, due to the massive reduction in daily physical activity and combat exertion, the food consumption across the grassland had actually regressed rather than climbed.
The absolute bulk of their resources were currently being funneled toward the active frontline—the Rocky Mountain range.
The Rocky Mountain range. This was a sector that demanded explicit, priority analysis.
Although the four great tribes permanently garrisoned within the rocky peaks hadn't experienced any substantial demographic growth, their elevations in absolute martial strength were flawlessly tangible.
The high-intensity, cutthroat environment of the warzone had forced the four tribes to absorb significant attrition, but it had simultaneously tempered and forged a massive volume of elite combatants.
For instance, the Mega Aerodactyl patriarch had already ploughed his level baseline up to an astonishing Lv. 79.
It was safe to declare that, excluding brother-kun—who had yet to formally return to the collective—he currently stood as the absolute Top 1 fighter positioned directly beneath Kazuya.
Following closely behind, the Altaria and Flygon flocks had secured highly prominent, visible multipliers to their absolute strength. This was the dividend purchased entirely through their relentless effort and shed blood. It was a status they had rightfully earned.
As for the Druddigon clan... they practically didn't participate in the frontline combat operations at all.
Yet, this reality didn't strictly condemn the Druddigon as useless freeloaders. Their primary operational directive was to garrison the home front, flawlessly shielding the Trapinch and Vibrava. In executing this specific defensive assignment, they had performed their duties with absolute, commendable perfection.
Simultaneously, regarding the demographic expansion of the Dragon Clan, the Druddigon had actually contributed a monumentally massive asset.
Of course, this contribution wasn't inherently linked to the original Druddigon clan. It was purely because, while Kazuya and his forces were carving out new borders across the frontlines, they had successfully subjugated a second, slightly more formidable Druddigon clan, dragging them back to merge into the collective.
Among the six great tribes whose populations currently breached the one-hundred threshold, outside of the original five founding tribes, the final slot was firmly occupied by the consolidated Druddigon lineage. Furthermore, this combined Druddigon demographic had officially become the single largest individual tribe within the entire empire.
To this day, the Dragon Clan's total population had officially breached the one-thousand milestone.
The Druddigon demographic alone accounted for a minimum of one-eighth of that total volume, practically doing the work of two entire tribes in terms of raw numbers.
The patriarch of the newly integrated Druddigon clan wasn't mathematically weak either. Sitting at a baseline of Lv. 75, he was undeniably an Alpha leader Kazuya had personally extracted from the middle ring of the Rocky Mountains, and his parameters easily classified him as a top-tier powerhouse across the outer periphery.
It was precisely due to his stabilizing presence that Kazuya had felt secure enough to lead the three aerial vanguards to aggressively swallow the northern territories, successfully carving a path all the way to the one-third boundary marker of the Rocky Mountain range.
Any further advancement... and they would officially breach the central nexus of the Rocky Mountains. The absolute domain where the sovereign Overlord of the peaks resided, alongside the convergence of several pseudo-legendary King-tier lineages.
That was correct. Over one-third of the sprawling, colossal geographic footprint composing the Rocky Mountain range officially operated under the sovereign banner of the Dragon Clan. Across the dozens of mountain peaks contained within that perimeter, every single resident entity acknowledged Kazuya as their new, absolute Overlord.
The only technicality was that the collective consensus among the Pokémon clans across the wider Rocky Mountain range had not yet achieved absolute uniformity. Until Kazuya completely, definitively unified the entire mountain range, the systemic Overlord tag wouldn't officially anchor itself to his status panel.
However, this specific parameter was precisely the variable that filled Kazuya with profound confusion: The true sovereign Overlord of the Rocky Mountains had offered absolutely zero tactical or political response to his relentless expansion.
No. To articulate it more accurately... the Rocky Mountain range technically lacked an Overlord.
An ocean of time ago, back when Kazuya had merely conquered a fifth of the total territory, he had observed that the Overlord Tyrantrum's physical dimensions had violently shrunk—a definitive, biological symbol representing the complete forfeiture of the Overlord status.
Yet, the Tyrantrum behaved as if he completely didn't care.
If one were to argue the Tyrantrum simply hadn't detected Kazuya's operations, Kazuya wouldn't believe it for a single second. The logistical noise generated by their campaign was massive. Furthermore, the Tyrantrum undeniably couldn't have failed to register the massive physiological degradation of his own frame. Why had he perceived the threat yet refused to execute a single counter-maneuver?
In absolute reality, the Tyrantrum had been desperately praying for this precise day to arrive.
Praying for a challenger commanding a sufficiently terrifying martial baseline to step forward and violently contest his sovereign position as the Overlord of the Rocky Mountains.
He hadn't crossed paths with a genuinely worthy, capable adversary for a profoundly long time. He biologically needed an opponent of this magnitude to manifest. And the sweeping, aggressive campaigns orchestrated by Kazuya over these past few years had sparked a wave of absolute, primal excitement and intense anticipation deep within the Tyrantrum's bones.
He had been waiting. Waiting for the day Kazuya finally led his Dragon Clan vanguard to smash down his front door.
To the Tyrantrum... his core philosophy remained entirely unchanged. He welcomed every single challenger.
If he tasted defeat, the Tyrantrum would willingly, comfortably surrender the Overlord throne of the Rocky Mountains without a single shred of hesitation. If he secured victory, then the absolute sovereign status of the Rocky Mountains would naturally, inevitably return to his crown; there was absolutely zero necessity to expend exhausting effort launching a preemptive interception midway through his challenger's ascent.
This flawlessly straightforward, primitive logic was undeniably a parameter Kazuya hadn't synthesized.
He was currently enjoying a remarkably rare phase of "holiday rest" within his daily existence. Moving forward, they were poised to launch a massive offensive against the cluster of pseudo-legendary clans stationed within the central nexus.
Their premier target: the Hydreigon clan, stationed at the closest geographic proximity, and simultaneously boasting the weakest absolute parameters among the pseudo-legendaries.
When confronting a species as fundamentally violent and brutal as Hydreigon—a lineage functionally deaf to any form of diplomatic dialogue—the only operational protocol was to immediately initiate absolute combat. Expending even half a syllable of verbal rhetoric was a complete mathematical waste.
Their psychological architecture mirrored the Aerodactyl clan flawlessly: They exclusively respected raw strength. Everything else was entirely redundant.
However, even though they represented the mathematically weakest pseudo-legendary demographic, launching an assault against them would undeniably spark a grueling, bloody war.
Prior to initiating that conflict, Kazuya desired to afford his three aerial vanguards a proper window to execute a profound, comprehensive rest. To systematically recover their vitality, max out their operational readiness, and then plunge back into the crucible of war.
Right at this moment, Florges gracefully approached from the flank.
Five years operating as the proxy supreme leader had permanently etched an incredibly unique, profound aura into her presence; she appeared increasingly akin to a serene, cold, untouchable Queen.
"How long has it been since brother-kun returned?" Kazuya suddenly voiced the inquiry.
It felt as though an immense ocean of time had passed since he had last laid eyes upon his younger brother's silhouette. But Kazuya hadn't meticulously tallied the exact chronological data. Existing within an era of this nature, the precise concept of time was remarkably easy to overlook—especially given how intensely busy his operational schedule had been over the past five years. He simply hadn't possessed the luxury to track the calendar.
"Flor." Florges let out a soft sigh, articulating a specific numerical value as her eyes drifted toward the southern horizon with deep worry.
Three years.
It had been a full, entire three years since brother-kun had last touched down within the grassland.
"Oh." Kazuya nodded his head with absolute serenity.
The primary driver behind this prolonged absence was that brother-kun had previously disclosed to him that his core thermal temperature was continuously, violently escalating, signaling the distinct, biological sensation of an impending evolutionary breakthrough.
Kazuya had originally calculated that he would finalize the evolution within a single year. He truly hadn't anticipated that the process would prompt a complete radio silence spanning three entire years.
Had he not possessed the absolute assurance that a Champion-tier dragon dad was personally anchoring the perimeter, and had the mother Charizard and her three offspring not remained completely silent regarding the matter during their visits to the grassland... Kazuya would have already mobilized the entire Dragon Clan to launch an aggressive, full-scale breach of the volcano.
Synthesizing the current data, brother-kun was highly likely trapped within a profound, structural bottleneck. There was zero mathematical certainty regarding how much additional time he required to cleanly shatter the threshold.
Another week slipped past.
On this specific day, just as Kazuya rose to his feet, fully prepared to initiate the grand offensive against the Hydreigon clan, a cataclysmic series of intense tremors violently resonated all the way from the volcanic mountain range.
At the volcano... an absolutely apocalyptic war had erupted.
That specific battle raged relentlessly for an entire, uninterrupted day.
When night finally fell, the infernal glow radiating from the volcanic peaks violently illuminated even the northernmost sector of the grassland, creating the terrifying optical illusion that a second, blazing sun had abruptly manifested within this world.
This spontaneously detonated war forced Kazuya to temporarily suspend his operational blueprint. He opted against launching the offensive against the Hydreigon clan today, choosing instead to wait.
Kazuya maintained an absolute, unyielding belief in his younger brother.
By the dawn of the following day...
The airspace blanketing the volcanic mountain range had been definitively transformed into an absolute restricted zone for any ordinary Pokémon.
The ambient thermal temperature had escalated to such a horrific, blistering degree that even an ordinary Charizard would physically feel their scales begin to scorch.
And suspended within that infernal sky... the two Mega Charizard Y finally engaged in their ultimate, concluding exchange.
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