Fine silver threads fell from the sky as a hazy curtain of rain enveloped Crying Cliff.
Following the Bloodtooth Overseer, another figure emerged from the rock cave. It was a stooped, hunchbacked Gnoll with fur that was pure jet-black, distinctly different from the mottled coats of the other Gnolls.
The priest who worshipped the Gnoll God—Rotclaw.
Priest Rotclaw leaned on a white bone staff, walking with slow steps to stand beside the Bloodtooth Overseer. He was followed by two taciturn Gnoll guardians who kept close pace.
They were strong and sturdy, their height not inferior to the Bloodtooth Overseer, and twisted runes were faintly visible amidst their wet fur.
The silent and steady demeanor of the two guardians was completely different from that of normal Gnolls.
They were formed after Priest Rotclaw selected warriors from the tribe and performed a sacrificial ritual to receive the blessing of the Gnoll God. They possessed powerful combat capabilities comparable to Vicious Beasts of the same Rank, but the price was a lifespan of only ten years, their intelligence becoming dull, and the loss of reproductive desire and ability.
Garros noticed the two guardians, his gaze narrowing slightly.
They were [Gnoll Guards], powerful guardians created through divine blessing.
It wasn't just the Gnoll God.
The vast majority of gods possessed this type of 'blessing' skill, creating attendants loyal only to themselves at the cost of long life, the ability to reproduce, and rational intellect.
For example, the [Evil Dragon Guardss] of the God of Evil Dragons.
An Evil Dragon Guards only needs one year from hatching to adulthood, and in a hundred years, it can gain power comparable to a thousand-year-old Ancient Dragon. However, its lifespan is only a little over a hundred years, and it has no thoughts other than loyalty to the God of Evil Dragons and executing its orders.
Priests could also create corresponding divine guardians, but the cost was extremely high.
The success rate of the ritual was not high; behind those two Gnoll guardians likely lay the lives of dozens or even a hundred Gnolls.
Additionally.
Only priests whose faith in a god reached a certain level possessed such skills.
Garros looked toward Priest Rotclaw, feeling a sense of displeasure.
Gods, the true rulers of the planes and worlds, could change the fate of other living beings with a single thought, raising them to the clouds or casting them into deep valleys.
Garros didn't trust his luck to encounter the good side of that.
He habitually thought of the negative possibilities first.
"A priest of the Gnoll God. He is absolutely loyal and obedient to his god. Even if I subdue the Red-Eye Clan and show strength worthy of following, he might still play double-dealer and act against me just to please his god."
Garros could not feel a sense of security around a priest connected to a deity.
Sacrifice this dragon before me to the god.
—Perhaps the Gnoll priest was thinking exactly that.
If it were just a priest with shallow faith, it would be fine, but a priest who could create attendant guardians was by no means a shallow believer.
Garros had originally thought this priest of the Red-Eye Clan was the type who only had shallow faith to lead the clan to better survival in the wilderness and gain a few minor blessing skills.
Looking at it now, that wasn't the reality.
The werewolves of the Howling Moon Clan hadn't mentioned this.
One couldn't expect much insight from the monster clans of the wilderness; it was already good enough that they could recognize an Overseer and a priest. As for the specific situation of the priest, the Howling Moon Clan didn't worship gods and had no priest profession, so it was normal for them not to understand.
"A priest, a priest, a priest with a high level of faith."
"Kill him? The Legacy says that killing a priest has a small chance of attracting a god's attention, which brings endless trouble. I can't kill him with my own hands."
Garros pondered.
Priest Rotclaw stood in a position even further forward than the Bloodtooth Overseer.
Like the Bloodtooth Overseer, he spoke slowly in a respectful tone, his voice rasping like sandpaper rubbing together: "Yeenoghu be praised. Noble Dragon, we wish to offer fine wine and fresh meat to welcome your arrival."
What a sturdy Young Dragon.
If he were sacrificed to the great Yeenoghu, it would surely bring him joy.
Beneath the priest's respectful facade, he could hardly suppress this thought.
At the same time, Garros looked toward the Bloodtooth Overseer.
This thick-furred, heavy-set, strong Gnoll had a look of obvious displeasure on his face when Priest Rotclaw appeared and stepped in front of him. He subconsciously bared his fangs but said nothing.
"The Overseer and the priest of the Red-Eye Clan are not on good terms."
Garros began to calculate in his mind.
He was very clear about the Bloodtooth Overseer's little schemes.
Because Gnolls were mostly like this—thinking they were crafty and cunning, believing they hid their thoughts well, when in reality, their twitching ears and flickering eyes had long since exposed them to Dragonkin. Their cunning was superficial, mere petty cleverness.
Gnolls liked to follow Dragons.
But if one couldn't prove their own strength, they would also hunt Young Dragons that hadn't grown up yet.
Conversely.
As long as one displayed power that terrified the Gnolls, it was easy to gain their allegiance.
Almost every Dragon Lord had a Gnoll vassal tribe under their command.
They had high reproductive efficiency and short growth cycles, like weeds that grew back as soon as they were cut. In the eyes of Dragonkin, they were excellent cannon fodder and even reserve food. Their innate reverence and fear of powerful Dragonkin also gave them a different kind of 'loyalty'.
"Red-Eye Clan, I want your allegiance."
"From this day forth, you shall follow the shadow of my wings."
Garros said, staring at the Gnoll Overseer.
Without hesitation, the Bloodtooth Overseer bowed deeply and said, "To serve a great Dragonkin is an honor for all Gnolls. The meaning of my life was to meet you today and become your vassal."
More Gnolls knelt on the ground.
Only the priest and the two Gnoll Guards remained standing conspicuously in the drizzle.
"I am sorry, but a priest can only kneel to the god he believes in."
"But please believe that my respect and awe for you are second only to the great Yeenoghu."
"The Red-Eye Clan yearns to follow the Dragonkin."
Priest Rotclaw remained very respectful.
The Bloodtooth Overseer's eyes flickered as he said, "Dragon Lord, please descend among your loyal Red-Eye Clan. I will take you to inspect your territory and offer up all the treasures hidden within the clan."
As long as Garros landed.
He would instantly activate his Command Aura as an Overseer to strengthen all the Gnoll warriors, making them unafraid of dragon fear. They would swarm him, and with the priest's curses and divine arts, they would pin him to the ground and hunt him down.
Garros was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned.
"Fine, I'll land now."
After speaking, Garros didn't lower himself; instead, he flapped his dragon wings and soared into the sky, his figure tearing through the rain curtain and tracing a crimson trail under the overcast heavens.
The Gnolls stood up and looked up, that shrinking figure reflected in their reddish-brown pupils.
"Did he sense danger and run away?"
The Bloodtooth Overseer muttered to himself.
Suddenly.
He heard a shrill, whistling roar that made his expression stiffen and his breathing turn shallow, as if an invisible giant hand had gripped his heart.
Garros dove down, his massive dragon wings tearing through the rain.
The fine scales on his wing membranes clanged like ten thousand sharp swords being unsheathed simultaneously. Rain hit them and exploded into fine mist, which was then evaporated into smoke by the high temperature.
Water vapor and sparks intertwined, hissing into steam that trailed behind him like a comet's wake.
And as his altitude lowered and his speed slowed.
Each beat of those wings no longer emitted a shrill whistle, but instead brought a dull sonic boom.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
It was as if the thunder from distant mountains had been forcibly dragged before them to announce Garros's arrival.