The night on the Black Iron Plain was as thick as unshakeable asphalt; the two moons were completely swallowed by heavy dark clouds, and the earth fell into a suffocating, pure ink-black.
Suddenly, the dead silence was torn apart.
On the watchtower at the tribe's perimeter, the piercing alarm siren only had time to emit a short scream before it stopped abruptly, as if its throat had been throttled.
In its place were countless hair-raising sounds of friction, low growls, and the sharp screeching of claws scraping against metal parapets!
The curtain of darkness was suddenly illuminated.
—Not by lamplight, but by pairs of eyes that suddenly snapped open in the absolute darkness, burning with a naked desire for slaughter!
Yellow-green, crimson, ghostly blue... they were densely packed like ghost fires, silently surrounding the entire Golden Tooth Tribe so tightly that not even water could leak through.
"Enemy attack! It's the monsters of the Molten Iron Tribe!"
"Ballistae! Quickly, load the ballistae!"
"Illumination! We need light!"
The screams of the goblin guards exploded in the dead silence, carrying an undisguisable tremble.
Searchlights flickered on frantically, their beams of light sweeping futilely through the thick darkness, only illuminating a small area at the very front of the encirclement.
There were the hideous, twisted faces of Ogres, their fangs dripping with saliva; the arched backs of Grey-mane Werewolves, their claw blades reflecting a cold glint; and the heavy Iron Hoof of Centaurs, crushing the ground step by step.
In the night sky further above, huge shadows surged in the darkness and then appeared.
The Dragons circled in the night sky, their beating wings tearing through the silence of the night; the invisible pressure was like a cold iron hoop, tightly constricting the heart of every goblin.
The operators' fingers were on the triggers, yet they didn't dare to press down at all.
Although those anti-air ballistae and Heavy Alchemy Cannons were already loaded, they didn't dare to fire; the goblins piloting the Mecha Golems also didn't dare to take a single step across the line, retreating step by step before the advancing Molten Iron warriors.
"It's over... it's all over... the Grand Artificer is no longer here..."
An elderly goblin Elder slumped to the ground, murmuring to himself, his cloudy eyes filled with despair.
The Alchemy legion had been routed, and the news of Scott's death in the Southwestern Border Mountains had long since returned; the backbone of the Golden Tooth Tribe was broken, and they had lost their confidence.
Goblins are cowardly by nature.
When they lost their protection, when the legion they were so proud of was routed, even though they still had Alchemy machines to fight with, they could not muster the will to resist.
"You pieces of trash!"
"Drop your weapons and kneel!"
Voices like muffled thunder rang out from the mouths of the Iron Dragon and Red Dragon; they crowded around the majestic and imposing Red-Iron Dragon, circling it.
The goblins' knees buckled, and they knelt down like wheat being harvested.
But just as the tribe's panic was about to turn into a total collapse.
In the center of the tribe, from deep within the foundations of the core palace that symbolized the Grand Artificer's authority and had been silent for a hundred years, came a dull roar, like the heartbeat of the earth.
Buzz—boom! Buzz—boom!
The entire ground of the Golden Tooth Tribe trembled along with it, cracks extending like spiderwebs.
The outer layer of the palace's walls peeled off, revealing a main body cast from steel.
Then, under the surprised gazes of countless goblins, the Grand Artificer's palace actually came to life!
Thick steam mixed with blinding flows of arcane energy erupted violently from the exhaust vents of the palace's base.
The heavy armor plates covering the surface flipped, slid, and reorganized layer by layer like the scales of a giant beast.
Massive gears meshed and rotated frantically inside, letting out a deafening metallic roar; the top structure collapsed and shrank downward, while thick, suffocating mechanical arms extended from both sides, and the base rose and transformed.
Finally.
A colossal colossus like a small hill appeared.
Garros narrowed his eyes slightly.
"As expected, something is strange."
At the same time, the steel giant stood upright, its movements carrying an inhuman heaviness and precision, every joint's extension accompanied by the sound of mechanical operation.
Its standing posture was as if it were propping up the entire sky of the tottering Golden Tooth Tribe.
"Grand... Grand Artificer?!"
"Lord Scott! Is it you?!"
The despairing goblins, as if grabbing onto a final life-saving straw, erupted into cries of relief and fanatical cheers.
Their fear was swept away, and they all stood up again, cheering and jumping: "Great Workshop Master, kill all these monsters!"
However.
The colossus did not respond to the goblins' shouts.
Blue light beams shot from its eyes, scanning the darkness and the Dragons circling in the sky, before it became static.
[Analyzing environment. Threat assessment: enemy-to-ally power ratio. Combat deduction: calculating probability of tribal survival.]
[Resistance: 11% win rate, tribal survival probability approaching zero. Optimal solution: Surrender.]
Under the stunned, desperate, and disbelieving gazes of countless goblins, the colossus that had just ignited their hope—like the most humble servant—slowly and heavily knelt on one knee before the Red-Iron Dragon.
All the weapons on its body were retracted, and the energy glow gradually dimmed, like a beast that had retracted its claws and teeth.
Next, on the lowered head of the giant golem, the armor split open, and a goblin stepped out; from his appearance and attire, he was the image of the Grand Artificer in his prime.
"Noble Dragon, please accept the Golden Tooth Tribe's fealty."
"As long as you are willing to forgive the Golden Tooth Tribe's offense, the Golden Tooth Tribe is willing to pay any price."
He also knelt prostrate, maintaining a humble posture, his voice devoid of any emotion as he spoke word by word.
"So it's an Alchemical Construct."
A faint light from a detection Spell flared in Red Dragon Samantha's eyes, and then she blinked, showing a look of realization.
She smacked her lips with interest and said thoughtfully: "Garros, the leader of the Golden Tooth Tribe probably died long ago. This Grand Artificer is an Alchemical Construct he left behind using Alchemy."
"You have a Wisdom Eye."
The Grand Artificer said.
Garros looked down at the Grand Artificer, his tone calm, and said: "I need to know more."
"As you wish."
The goblin spoke eloquently, recounting his birth.
When the Grand Artificer Scott reached the end of his lifespan, he chose to enter seclusion in his palace.
Unfortunately, hindered by the meager resources and scarce knowledge Legacy of The Borderlands, and because he had spent almost all his time during his peak mental years researching golems and developing the tribe, even with his extraordinary talent, he was unable to create a way to extend his life in the limited time he had left as an old man.
On his deathbed, the Grand Artificer chose Alchemy Ascension.
He used Alchemy to fuse his Soul with the palace, transforming it into an Intelligent Golem.
The goblins also gradually understood.
The Alchemist they revered, the one who had led the clan to rise from insignificance, had long since died.
This was merely a cold Legacy left by Scott, an Alchemical Intelligence that existed for "survival"; it had no honor, no anger, no resentment, only rational intelligent logic.
"Alchemical Intelligence. Your performance in the war makes me doubt your words."
The Red-Iron Dragon said.
He had thought this war with the Golden Tooth Tribe would take much longer.
However, the goblins' actions of stationing themselves in the Fertile Plains and building bases regardless of potential risks had directly led to their doom.
"Do not give me gold; teach me the fire that turns stone into gold."
The Grand Artificer said: "It is the life motto written by my predecessor, and it is also the original intention of my birth. The meaning of my existence is not to fight, but to guide and cultivate Alchemists, so that the Golden Tooth Tribe can endure and survive without relying on me."
He was not good at war.
His strategy for the battle with the Molten Iron Tribe was mainly through the reports of the goblin Elders, summarizing a suitable decision as much as possible.
Garros roughly understood the situation.
No wonder the Golden Tooth Tribe could have so many Alchemists; the reason behind it was actually here.
"Let me see your Intelligence Core."
Red Dragon Samantha said.
As an Alchemist, she knew that every Intelligent Golem had a core for integrating and processing chaotic information and forming 'thought.'
The Grand Artificer did not hesitate.
The armor on the back of the golem's neck opened, revealing an octahedral structure, a core covered in Alchemy Runes. Red Dragon Samantha studied it carefully for a few moments and said to Garros: "Such an exquisite structure... it really is an Intelligent Golem. It is very valuable to us."
Having seen that the Grand Artificer could trade blows with Garros and possessed power that completely crushed other Young Dragons.
Red Dragon Samantha was even more expectant of Alchemy.
In her view, if mere goblins could have such attainments, her noble self would surely achieve even more outstanding results.
Of course, she was not interested in Alchemy Ascension to turn herself into an intelligence; her main focus was on creating various types of equipment with Alchemy and using runes to strengthen herself.
"An unexpected harvest."
"The Molten Iron Tribe might not lack Alchemists in the future either."
Garros looked at the Grand Artificer with the eyes of someone appreciating a work of art, and also scanned the deathly silent tribe.
"Your wisdom will add fuel to the furnace of Molten Iron, and your fate will be defined by the shadow of the Dragon's wings."
He said.
There was no bargaining, no pretense.
This was an unquestionable sentence from the victor.
"Thank you for your tolerance."
The giant golem was the Grand Artificer's original body, which gradually transformed back into the palace, sitting quietly on the surface, while the goblin-shaped construct was his 'Clone' for more convenient movement.
"All goblins of the Golden Tooth Tribe renounce resistance and submit to the Lord of Molten Iron."
The Grand Artificer said.
In fact, there was no need to say more; from the moment they realized the Grand Artificer was only a construct rather than a 'Legendary' figure, nearly all the goblins knelt down again, silently praying in their hearts for the Dragon to accept the Golden Tooth Tribe's fealty, thereby gaining a chance to live.
There were also a few outliers.
They cursed the Intelligent Golem for deceiving them and insulting the honor of the Golden Tooth Tribe, refusing to submit; then, before the monsters could even act, they were crushed to death by the Alchemy machines controlled by the Grand Artificer.
Afterward.
A portion of the Warband elites was stationed on the Black Iron Plain.
As time passed, the bases and Resource Points that originally belonged to the Golden Tooth Tribe were quickly taken over. The territory of the Molten Iron Tribe gradually expanded toward the entire southern part of The Borderlands. Those Gnolls and Kobolds, who bred extremely fast and were almost impossible to support without restrictions, finally had a place to be useful.
And while the Molten Iron Tribe was developing in full swing.
In the northwestern part of The Borderlands, Red Maple Valley.
"Deborah has been in The Borderlands all this time."
A man with silver-white hair, so handsome he was flawless, frowned and said, "She told me she left The Borderlands to go on an adventure, but that is not the case."
"Staying in The Borderlands but not returning to Red Maple Valley, pretending to be adventuring outside."
Adrie, known as [Frosttrace] in his human form, felt some confusion and displeasure: "What exactly is Deborah doing?"
On the Red-Silver Dragon's body, there was a Tracking Mark secretly placed by Adrie; he had always been very clear about the Red-Silver Dragon's movements.
Thinking of their previous communication, when Deborah had been evasive and used the pretext that she was adventuring, the Silver Dragon felt that she must be hiding something from him.
It was necessary to go and check the situation.
×=×
PS: Requesting Power Stones!
15PS = 1 Extra Chapter. ✓
30PS = 2 Extra Chapters. ✓
50Ps= 3 Extra Chapters.✓
75PS = 4 Extra Chapters. ✓
100Ps = 5 Extra Chapters.