When sensing danger...
Garros's first instinct was to eliminate the source of the threat.
What he wanted most, in fact, was to strike tonight under the cover of darkness, launching a night raid just as he had done with the Goblin Tribe. He wanted to wipe out the 'potential danger' of the Blackrock Duchy's Oil Field garrison in a single night without delay.
Unfortunately...
Garros was very confident that he was by no means a match for the Blackrock forces. Attacking them head-on would be suicide, so he could only find other ways to mitigate the risk.
For example, moving their base.
For example, burning the mountain to erase their tracks.
Garros felt he might have a bit of persecution mania, valuing his life too much, but he believed there was no harm in being extra careful. In this crisis-ridden wilderness, caution was essential.
Walking on thin ice was merely to reach the other shore.
"One day, when I become strong enough, I will no longer need to live so cautiously."
"When that time comes, even if the whole world is my enemy, I will not back down. I will burn it to ashes and turn it to dust."
Looking back at the hills burning in the night like a giant torch, Garros thought silently to himself. Then, without a hint of lingering attachment, he flapped his dragon wings and chased after Samantha and Mobel.
Seeing the Earth-Rending Centipede that Mobel was carrying, Garros thought for a moment and told him to put it down, then completely destroyed it.
Though it was a bit of a waste, he wasn't sure if the thing had a positioning System. He couldn't take it with him, so he simply destroyed it.
Time passed slowly.
Three days later, the morning light spilled down, shining upon the scorched earth of the Hemlock Hills.
Arriving along with the morning light was a group of uninvited guests.
The Iron Hooves of Rock-Armored War Goats trampled the charred ground. The Warhammer emblem of the [Blackrock Duchy's Third Heavy Cavalry Regiment] on their armor glinted with a cold, metallic light.
Led by an Alchemy Golem, many Blackrock cavalrymen came to a halt.
The Alchemy Golem at the very front of the cavalry stood eight meters tall and nearly eight meters wide. It was humanoid, similar in height to a Giant-Arm Miner, but its entire body was covered in thick, hard armor. Complex and intricate runes, resembling blood vessels, were inscribed everywhere. As the internal alchemy engine roared to life, flows of deep blue energy acted like blood, circulating through the runes across its entire body.
On the shoulder of the Alchemy Golem, its model name was engraved in Ancient Dwarven.
[Earth-Fury]
At first glance, it looked like a giant dwarf.
Stocky, heavy, and hard.
Compared to it, the Giant-Arm Miner was as thin and weak as a hemp stalk.
And the true gap in their strength was dozens of times greater than the difference in their size; an Earth-Fury was capable of contending with a young dragon.
Only one had come here.
There were many more Earth-Fury Golems stationed at the Oil Field, as well as other models.
With a series of cracks, the ground bulged and broke open as several Earth-Rending Centipedes drilled out. One of them, though repaired, still showed slight traces of the previous battle.
It was indeed the Earth-Rending Centipede that had fought Garros in the Hemlock Hills and luckily escaped by burrowing underground.
This Earth-Rending Centipede tilted its triangular head and swayed a few times toward the direction of the Hemlock Hills.
"This is the place. The location of the young dragons who stole oil-soil, caused the loss of some of our black oil, and destroyed two Earth-Rending Centipedes."
Patting the head of the Earth-Rending Centipede, a Dwarf Alchemist spoke.
He was about 1.4 meters tall, with a bronze beard that reached his chest, bound by an iron ring. His exposed arms were incredibly thick, with powerful muscles bulging like mountain rocks.
[Fire-Tongs] Groni, Dwarf Alchemist.
The leader of the cavalry removed his helmet, revealing half of a face scarred by fire.
That was a medal left behind from a fight with a powerful Vicious Beast five years ago.
[Warhammer] Olaf, Dwarf Knight.
Olaf spat on the ground, creating a small pit, his bell-like eyes scanning the scorched earth.
"This wasn't caused by a wildfire."
"This little dragon brat burned it cleaner than the Flaming Barley Ale at the Deep Forge Tavern!"
Olaf was about 1.6 meters tall, and his strength was even greater than that of the Dwarf Alchemist. Despite wearing a suit of heavy rune armor cast from steel and iron, his breathing remained steady. The muscles beneath the heavy armor looked as if they were stuffed with pitch and petroleum, with veins and vessels intertwined like the roots of an old tree. His life force was as vigorous as a furnace.
Dwarves.
This race was strong and sturdy, with higher muscle and bone density than humans.
Although their height was average, if a Dwarf warrior and a human warrior of the same Rank were to fight, the Dwarf warrior would almost always have the upper hand.
As Olaf spoke, he habitually took a flask from his waist and tilted his head to pour it into his mouth.
However, the mouth of the flask was blocked by an invisible force, and not a single drop came out.
The Dwarf Alchemist, Groni, glanced at the drunkard and said:
"Olaf, you drank three whole barrels of Rye Ale at the camp last night and lost your entire month's pay while you were at it. We're here on official business today, so curb your alcohol addiction."
Stroking his beard, Groni mused, "According to the information sent back by the Earth-Rending Centipede, there are two young dragons here. One is a Red Dragon, and the other looks like a Red Iron Dragon hybrid."
"Most naturally-born evil young dragons are arrogant and conceited. I didn't expect this one to be so cautious and careful."
Olaf chuckled and scratched the scar on his face.
"A Red Dragon's testicles can be soaked to make a liquor for virility and secondary growth. A hybrid Red Dragon should work too. I've never had it before. If we can catch the young dragons this time, I must see what it tastes like!"
The Dwarf Alchemist shook his head.
"I'm afraid it won't be that simple."
Saying this, he shook his beard, and a swarm of small bee-like things flew out from his thick facial hair. They buzzed loudly as they scattered in all directions, circling and searching the scorched earth and ash of the Hemlock Hills.
The cavalry and golems also sprang into action, stepping onto the scorched earth to search for traces of Dragonkin presence.
Stationed at the Oil Field, they received a fixed salary from the Duchy.
But if they could catch a young dragon, it would be an unexpected windfall that could be exchanged for countless amounts of strong liquor.
Time slipped by bit by bit, but by evening, as the moonlight poured down like water, the dwarves had failed to find anything of value.
"Withdraw the troops and go back for a drink. This trip was for nothing."
Olaf said.
"Wait, you're too impatient."
The Dwarf Alchemist held out his palm.
Several bees circled down and placed a tiny, blackish-gray scale fragment into the Dwarf Alchemist's palm.
"It was very cautious, but even a fire that burns a mountain cannot destroy all traces. At the very least, this scale fragment of its might allow me to be guided to its general direction."
Olaf laughed loudly, pulled out a crude copper cup, filled it with Rye Ale, and splashed it onto the scorched earth.
"To you, cunning little dragon! This cup of wine is to celebrate in advance that your bones will become my new pipe! Celebrate that your steel balls will become my virility liquor!"
Toasting the enemy before a campaign was an ancient tradition of the Blackrock Duchy.
Turning to the Dwarf Alchemist, Olaf said excitedly, "Quickly, locate its position! I can't wait anymore."
The Dwarf Alchemist shook his head and said disdainfully, "The dragon brat burned the mountain and the hills, leaving only this tiny scale fragment behind. Do you think it's a very good medium? I said 'might' just now. Do you understand 'might'? It's not a certainty. I need time to prepare, and I can't guarantee success."
Olaf spat again and rolled his eyes at the Alchemist.
"Then why the hell did you tell me! Wasting my Rye Ale!"
"Let's go, boys, we're heading back!"
Having been busy all day with nothing to show for it, the dwarves returned to their post at the Oil Field under the moonlight.
The scolded Dwarf Alchemist did not retort. He studied the scale fragment for a few moments and then tucked it into his robe.