Garros raised his dragon wings and swept them down like the collapsing sky.
The half-breed Centaur's mind was tense. She stomped her hooves, creating sonic booms even before they touched the ground, allowing her to change direction so fast she left afterimages, successfully dodging the sweep of the dragon wings.
Cyan air currents shaped like tiny wings appeared around her ankles.
Flapping her wings, she stepped on the air. Each step triggered a small air burst, unleashing her full speed as her silver greatsword slashed at the Red-Iron Dragon again and again, only to be intercepted by his claws every single time.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The weapon, enhanced by a Wind Blade Spell, clashed with the dragon claws, sending sparks flying in all directions.
Elvie's sword dance formed afterimages, moving with a smooth, flowing combat rhythm.
But to her disbelief, despite the Red-Iron Dragon's massive, imposing body, he possessed an almost absurd reaction speed. His claw strikes also whipped up a flurry of afterimages, and every clash sent violent tremors through the half-breed Centaur's arms, making it impossible for her to withstand.
After another clash,
Elvie's wings suddenly unfurled. With a powerful sweep that whipped up a gale, her figure soared into the sky.
Immediately after, she stopped high in the air, raised her greatsword above her head, and her entire body erupted in a brilliant white light, looking like a miniature white sun that illuminated a section of the night sky.
A sacred and pure aura welled up from her.
The blazing white light began to compress, adhering to the sword blade, eventually forming a prominent sword light over ten meters long that seemed almost solid.
Forming a hand seal with her left hand, she conjured a cyan gale to wrap around her wings.
Gripping the hilt with both hands, she flapped her wings and dove down at extreme speed.
At this moment, the half-breed Centaur seemed to have transformed into a meteor, dragging a cyan-and-white trail behind her as she crashed down toward Garros.
"Interesting."
Garros blinked, supported his body with his powerful hind legs, and stood upright.
The moment the sword light fell with an unstoppable momentum, it was accurately grabbed by his outstretched right claw.
The Red-Iron Dragon seized the sword light with terrifying physical strength. The clash of magic and raw power exploded into a circular shockwave, and the ground suddenly sank, collapsing downward.
Crack—shatter!
The sword light shattered, turning into a rain of pure white light fragments.
Elvie was blown away by the close-range shockwave, crashing heavily to the ground. When she stood up again, the light on her body had dimmed, and her face was much paler.
"Great Lord of the Crimson Wings, your strength fills me with awe. I am willing to follow under your dragon wings."
The half-breed Centaur knelt on the ground and said with reverence.
She had exhausted all her skills.
Throughout the entire fight, Garros had mostly received her attacks passively, never launching a fierce assault. Yet even so, she had been utterly defeated with nothing she could do.
"You are quite good,"
Garros said.
This Elvie was very young, and her Life Level was not as high as the previous Centaur Commander, but in an actual fight, she was definitely a cut above the other two Centaur Commanders.
The atavistic Bloodline of a Pegasus gave her a resilient body, explosive power, and speed, while her Elven blood made her proficient in magic.
Garros saw the potential of a Legend in this half-breed Centaur.
Among his subordinates, previously only the Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon Karu possessed the potential to Breakthrough to Legendary and serve him for a long time. Now, there was another—this half-breed Centaur.
On the other side,
Silvermane's eyes flickered with complex emotions.
He had never seen Elvie fight with all her might. He had always thought she was merely the strongest of the younger generation, but that her experience and strength were definitely inferior to his own.
To his surprise, this mixed-blood who was ostracized by the clan had actually been hiding her true strength all along.
At the same time, Sorog felt an even more urgent desire to gain a class.
If the three Centaurs had attacked together earlier, with this half-breed Centaur present, he might have died here.
Although he had a powerful brother as his backer and reliance, Sorog was a Dragonkin after all. He had his own dignity and did not want to rely on Garros to solve his problems every single time.
"I can't slack off anymore. I must devote all my free time to meditation!"
He thought to himself.
The night gradually receded, and the distant horizon turned into a gradient of grayish-blue.
Mist flowed across the pasture like melting ice, dampening the hair on the legs of the Centaur guards.
It was not yet dawn, but campfires were already lit and cooking smoke rose from the White Mane Clan's camp. Most of the Centaurs had already woken up. According to their respective duties, they began tanning hides, forging weapons, or preparing food, starting a brand new day.
Therefore,
When the Red-Iron Dragon circled in the sky, his imposing wings blotting out the daylight and casting a shadow over the Centaur camp, it immediately triggered a fierce reaction.
The guards reacted as if facing a formidable enemy, standing in strict readiness.
They drew their heavy bows and raised their spears, their eyes locked onto the uninvited guest. With arrows notched on their bowstrings, they were ready to shoot at any moment.
"Stop, everyone lay down your weapons!"
The voices of Elvie and Silvermane rang out.
Only then did the Centaurs notice the two commanders.
The Red-Iron Dragon's appearance was far too formidable and ferocious. The dense spines covering his body, his steel-like scales, and his unbelievably powerful physique all made the Centaurs feel oppressed and tense, making it hard for them to look away.
Compared to his appearance and bearing, the White Dragon they had seen before seemed gentle and friendly, almost like a good dragon.
"Commander Skywing, Commander Silvermane."
Looking at the two commanders who had landed on the ground, the Centaur Warriors lowered their voices and asked, "What is the situation now?"
At the same time,
An old Centaur shaman draped in a raven-feather cloak stepped out of a tent, his gaze sweeping over the dragon and the Centaurs.
"On behalf of the White Mane Clan, we have submitted to the great Lord of the Crimson Wings."
Elvie and Silvermane said simultaneously, their expressions earnest and solemn.
The Centaurs who had not witnessed Garros's power changed color, and the camp began to fall into a commotion.
"Quiet!"
Elvie barked sharply.
She held considerable prestige among the guards, and they gradually fell silent.
"Where is Luka?"
The old Centaur suddenly spoke and asked.
Luka was the name of Commander Iron Hoof.
"He has died of his own foolishness and stubbornness,"
Silvermane replied.
Both commanders had made their choice, and their choice represented the future of the White Mane Clan. There was no other path left now.
Thinking of his previous premonition,
the old Centaur fell silent for a moment, and then said in a raspy voice, "Everyone, put down your weapons."
The warriors looked at each other, hesitating for a moment, before slowly lowering their weapons under the authority of the two commanders and the shaman.
"Great Lord of the Crimson Wings,"
"The White Mane Clan is willing to trample all obstacles for you and offer you our loyalty."
The old Centaur was the first to kneel, followed by the two commanders. Behind them, all the Centaurs of the White Mane Clan bent their knees.
"From this day forth, you shall belong to me,"
Garros's voice rumbled like thunder as he said solemnly, "You pledge your loyalty to me, and I shall lead you to glory."
With this,
this sizable group of Centaurs became a part of the Molten Iron Clan.
Garros's wings in the Borderlands were gradually growing fuller, and this was only the beginning.
Not long after,
to the north of the Borderlands, there was a high mountain adjacent to the ice plains. The soil and rocks on it were frozen as hard as steel, and it was almost completely barren, save for rugged, grotesque boulders.
Inside a cave dragon nest covered in ice crystals,
the White Dragon Tereshi slowly opened her eyes after nearly twenty years of Dragon Sleep.
She was about fifteen meters long with a slender body that could not be described as robust. She had no horns on her head, and her snow-white dragon scales emitted waves of chilly air. Although she had just awakened, her gaze was extremely cold.
White Dragon Tereshi had entered her Dragon Sleep in a fit of rage.
Her anger remained, unable to be extinguished even by her freezing body.
"Centaurs! I will find you, crush your bones, and make you die in wails and agony!"
Baring her fangs, the White Dragon raised her coiled body.
After waking up, her Life Level had actually increased by one! It was now as high as Rank 13, which would surely allow her to annihilate the Centaurs.
She crawled out of the cave and soared into the sky without hesitation.
After twenty years, the damned White Mane Clan had most likely moved and changed their territory.
But as long as they were still in the Borderlands, the White Dragon swore by her noble Dragonkin Bloodline that no matter how long it took, she would find them, avenge her humiliation, and let them know the price of angering a Dragonkin.