Regarding the Iron Dragon's offensive behavior, the vertical pupils of the Six-Armed Snake Woman Naris suddenly constricted into fine lines.
She slowly stood up, her arms, which had been folded in front of her like flower petals, unfolded, and her slender fingers spread slightly.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Six cold iron longswords broke through the water from the Ten Thousand Snakes Swamp, yet the surface did not ripple in the slightest.
The Poison Tail Tribe was known for producing Warlocks and Shamans, but the tribe's leader, the Six-Armed Snake Woman Naris, was an out-and-out warrior, and held a noble status.
The warrior advancement branch she chose was—Sword Saint.
Sword Saint: The fusion of Soul and steel, merging life and Soul into the blade's edge, unity of person and sword, manifesting mighty power.
The Snake Woman looked coldly at the Iron Dragon, her swords baring their sharp edges, but she did not strike rashly.
Opposite her, the scales of the Iron Dragon Sorog slightly opened and closed as he watched the six arms of the Snake Woman unfolding like a dance—the starting stance of each arm holding a sword was completely different, yet they formed a perfect offensive and defensive system.
Under the tense and murderous atmosphere, the frog croaking in the depths of the swamp suddenly stopped.
"Six-Armed Snake Woman Sword Saint. A heaven-sent race and class combination."
The Iron Dragon's voice broke the dead silence; he did not hide his admiration, saying: "You not only possess beauty and wisdom, but you also possess powerful strength."
The Snake Woman's vertical pupils flickered dangerously, and the six longswords hummed simultaneously.
"This strength is enough to peel off your scales one by one, strip your skeleton completely from your flesh, and finally chop you into meat paste."
Solrog gently flicked his tail to show agreement: "I have no doubt about that."
Immediately, he changed the subject and said: "But my safety is irrelevant. Today, I represent the entire Molten Iron Tribe, and even more so, I represent—"
A Silver Dragon scale emitting a biting chill suddenly appeared between his claws.
"—The will of Your Excellency Frosttrace."
When that silver scale came into view, the Snake Woman's body visibly stiffened for an instant, and the look of wariness in her eyes grew heavier.
Hum—!
An elderly Snake Man Shaman Elder waved his bone staff, and suddenly invisible ripples surged toward the Snake Woman's body, flickering once before disappearing.
At the same time, the Iron Dragon discovered that he could no longer sense the Snake Woman's mental fluctuations.
Obviously, the Snake Man Elder had seen through his identity as a Psion and cast a spell to block the Iron Dragon's telepathy for the Snake Woman Sword Saint.
However, the Iron Dragon's expression remained as usual.
After becoming a Psion, his insight into emotions had significantly improved; even without needing mental perception, he could detect her emotional reactions just by observing the subtle expressions and body changes of the Snake Woman, though it was not as direct as mental perception.
"Frosttrace, the Metallic Dragon overlord of The Borderlands."
The Snake Woman forced her gaze away from the silver scale and said: "He is a Silver Dragon; how could he be associated with you bunch of Evil Dragons?"
"Do not think that we know nothing about Dragonkin. Although I do not know how you obtained this scale, the Silver Dragon Frosttrace would never support you."
Regarding the Snake Woman's suspicion, a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of the Iron Dragon's mouth.
"Have you ever been a Dragon? How presumptuous."
He said with a hint of mockery: "The relationships between the Dragon Clan are complex and intricate, never just black and white. How could you outsider creatures understand? Your thoughts are merely wishful speculation."
The Iron Dragon held his head high and puffed out his chest, looking around as if he were the lord of the Ten Thousand Snakes Swamp.
Under the gaze of the snakes, he continued: "Besides, you have long since seen a Metallic Dragon in our territory, haven't you?"
The Snake Woman fell silent.
A few seconds later, she spoke: "Iron Dragon, first state your purpose. Why have you come here?"
Solrog's expression suddenly turned serious, and his voice deepened a little as he said: "No matter the process, and no matter what price must be paid, the Molten Iron Tribe will eventually become the Dominator of The Borderlands, it is only a matter of time."
"Naris, you are not like those stupid brutes of the Barbarians and Orcs. You know very well that this is an unchangeable reality."
He said unhurriedly: "Ally with the Dawn and Ironblood, fight us to the death, and then suffer heavy losses, be crippled and defeated, or choose to submit to the Molten Iron Tribe in advance. That way, after the war ends, you will still enjoy a transcendent status in The Borderlands."
The Iron Dragon gave two choices.
"What guarantee do you have?" the Snake Woman asked sharply, saying: "How do we know we won't be used as cannon fodder after submitting? Such empty promises are meaningless. The Poison Tail Tribe will never bow down because of a few pretty words."
Hearing these resolute words, the Iron Dragon roughly understood the Snake Woman's attitude and thoughts.
He flicked his tail and continued: "I see precious courage in you Snake Men, which is indeed worthy of admiration. But courage cannot change reality. The Molten Iron Tribe will soon demonstrate power sufficient to make you change your minds."
The Six-Armed Snake Woman coiled on her throne and said: "Then I shall wait and see, but at least at this stage, do not dream of obtaining the allegiance of the Poison Tail Tribe. We have our own principles of conduct and judgment."
The Iron Dragon laughed: "Time is long, and I am very patient; I will not be in a rush."
The Snake Woman weighed her words and decided to reveal more information: "To tell you the truth, before you arrived, envoys from the Dawn and Ironblood Tribes had already been here, attempting to persuade us to form an alliance to fight against your Molten Iron Tribe."
She narrowed her eyes, carefully observing the Iron Dragon's reaction.
"This is within my expectations."
The Iron Dragon's reaction was surprisingly calm.
"However, you should not have accepted their proposal."
The composure and calmness displayed by this Iron Dragon made the Snake Woman secretly surprised—this was diametrically opposed to her perception of the Dragon Clan as irritable and short-tempered, which even made her start to doubt some of her inherent concepts.
"You only guessed half of it."
She told him frankly: "We had indeed originally decided to accept the alliance invitation, but the scale of Frosttrace you brought has caused my thoughts to waver."
"We have decided to adopt a delaying strategy, neither explicitly agreeing to their alliance request nor allying with or submitting to your Molten Iron Tribe. As long as the flames of war do not spread to our territory, the Poison Tail Tribe will remain absolutely neutral."
After further in-depth discussions and confirming more specific details, the Iron Dragon Sorog finally left the Ten Thousand Snakes Swamp.
Although he failed to directly obtain the allegiance of the Poison Tail Tribe, his main goal had been achieved.
—Successfully shaking the Poison Tail Tribe's determination to ally with other tribes, pushing them into a neutral position.
"Leader, do you really believe that the Silver Dragon Frosttrace is secretly supporting the Molten Iron Tribe?"
A wrinkled Old Shaman couldn't help but ask after the Iron Dragon left.
Naris looked in the direction the Iron Dragon had left and slowly shook her head: "This question is not important at all."
"If the human and Orc coalition army defeats the Molten Iron Tribe, they will surely suffer heavy casualties, and at that time, we can completely reap the benefits as the third party; conversely, if the Molten Iron Tribe wins a pyrrhic victory, we also have the opportunity to take advantage of the situation."
"As for the Silver Dragon Frosttrace."
Her snake tail swayed gently, and her eyes flashed with shrewd light: "Given his consistent style of conduct, even if he intervenes, he will not directly destroy us, at most issuing a warning first. And if the Molten Iron Tribe demonstrates overwhelming strength, it will not be too late to swear allegiance then. In any case, our Poison Tail Tribe has left room to retreat unscathed."
In the southwest of The Borderlands, the sunset of Dragon Valley dyed the rock walls the color of blood.
Garros slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, the roaring sound in his chest like a beating drum gradually subsided, ending today's Dragon Heart tempering.
The dewdrops condensed on the rock wall were shaken off by the aftershocks, and rolling heat waves dissipated from the gaps in the Red-Iron Dragon's slightly opening and closing scales.
Just at this moment, a familiar palpitation came from deep within his Bloodline—it was the sensation of the Blood Kin Chain being triggered.
"The attitude of the Poison Tail Tribe has been ascertained."
Solrog's voice came: "These swamp crawlers are much more cunning than humans and Orcs, scheming to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight."
Although the Six-Armed Snake Woman concealed it very well, it could not escape the insight of the Psion.
He carefully recounted the content of his conversation at the Poison Tail Tribe, as well as the reactions of the Snake Men.
"Within reason; if it were me, I would do the same."
The Red-Iron Dragon said: "When we crush the Dawn and Ironblood, these Snake Men will naturally kneel."
The strength of the leaders of the original Four Great Tribes in The Borderlands was evenly matched, basically at the level of the Grand Artificer's Alchemy Colossus; there was not much difference in their levels.
If they faced all three at once, and they had some special means and coordinated with each other, the situation would become very troublesome.
But if they only dealt with two. The spines of the Red-Iron Dragon felt slightly hot due to Battle Intent, and the Martial Dragon Qi surged faster within his body.
"By the way, I have taken a liking to the leader of the Poison Tail Tribe."
The Iron Dragon suddenly said.
Garros nodded slightly and said: "The Six-Armed Snake Woman. Her Bloodline is not bad, and she is powerful herself, which fits your preferences; it is normal for you to like her, but do not let this delay our grand cause."
The Iron Dragon spoke bluntly: "How can the desires of the lower body compare to the grand blueprint in our minds?"
"I am not the stupid White Scale; I can already control my own desires and thoughts. If the Snake Woman ultimately chooses to be our enemy, I will not hesitate to kill her."
These words were as low as thunder, firm and decisive.
For the Iron Dragon, nothing could compare to the vigorous ambition of establishing a Dragon Clan kingdom. Moreover, he had no feelings for the Snake Woman, only a little desire; the Iron Dragon would not lose his mind because of this.
Regarding the Iron Dragon Sorog, Garros was quite at ease and said no more.
After thinking for a moment, the Red-Iron Dragon asked: "Solrog, tell me how this war should be conducted. What are your thoughts?"
After a few seconds of calm, the Iron Dragon Sorog's methodical and orderly voice slowly came: "Assuming that humans and Orcs have fully united, their advantage lies in the fact that the number of their middle and upper-level leaders and elite soldiers exceeds ours, and their tactical flexibility is high, allowing them to fight on multiple fronts."
"Our current situation is that the number of the lowest-level Gnolls and Kobolds is sufficient, and we are not afraid of attrition. Our top-level combat power exceeds theirs, but we lack a sufficient number of middle and upper-level leaders. The Golems produced by the Alchemy Workshop can compensate for a part of this, but it is still insufficient."
The war had just ended, and the Goblins' Alchemy Golems had been largely destroyed, with less than one in ten remaining.
Although the Alchemy Workshop was operating day and night under the leadership of Samantha and with the assistance of the Grand Artificer, the number of newly produced War Golems was far from enough to fill the gap of the war.
"We have occupied the entire south and have many strongholds, but it has been a short time, manpower is tight, and the territory in the southeast has not been fully digested, making it difficult to defend comprehensively."
Time ticked away, and Solrog first analyzed the pros and cons of both sides.
He used the Psion's skills; now his thinking was meticulous and fast, and he quickly analyzed the situation of both sides thoroughly.
Finally, Solrog's voice paused and he concluded: "I suggest simultaneously adopting the strategies of 'top-level decapitation' and 'bottom-level attrition' to make up for the disadvantage of insufficient middle-level strength."
Garros nodded and praised: "Hmm, that's about what I thought."
The voice paused, and the Red-Iron Dragon gradually restrained his smile and said seriously: "War is imminent. We don't have time to slowly digest the fruits of victory and consolidate our territory. The coalition of humans and Orcs may attack at any time."
"Prepare for war. Convey the order to the subordinate leaders of all major strongholds and have them all prepare for war."
Immediately after, instructions were sent one by one to the ears of each leader through communication items.
The war between the Molten Iron Tribe and the Golden Tooth Tribe had not been long ago, and the kin were still immersed in the aftertaste of victory, issuing war roars that shot straight into the sky for the upcoming war, full of fighting spirit and high morale.
They knew deeply:
After this battle, the flag of the Molten Iron Tribe would be planted throughout The Borderlands.
And these creatures, no matter how lowly the race they originally belonged to, as long as they were Molten Iron kin following the great Lord of the Crimson Wings, would enjoy this honor and become the Dominator of The Borderlands.
By then.
Even the grassroots servants working on the assembly line, once they thought about the fact that the Molten Iron Tribe had already ruled The Borderlands, would surely feel proud because of it.