The dividing line between the Dawn Tribe and the Ironblood Tribe.
Thunder Cliff.
Brunhild stood on the cliff top. His helmet, inlaid with mammoth tusks, shimmered with a greenish light under the storm clouds. The gale blowing in his face whipped his wolf-skin cloak, making it snap like a battle flag. His exposed skin was covered in tattoos, and his muscles were like cast iron; his body was like a tower of steel.
He was the leader of the Dawn Tribe, a Barbarian who had mastered the power of Fury.
Before activating Fury, Brunhild looked like a calm human leader, with steady eyes and a composed expression. However, he gave off the feeling of a mixture of many different temperaments, as if he were not one person, but 'a group of people'.
In fact, that was roughly the case.
If a creature proficient in True Sight were to look closely, they would see many phantoms floating around Brunhild. Each phantom possessed a leader-like aura—some wise and calm, some naturally imposing, some unyielding and rebellious. They were completely distinct.
Barbarians had many branch paths to choose from after reaching Rank 3.
Such as the Giant path, the Totem Warrior path, the Battlerager path, the Wild Magic path... And among the many paths, the one Brunhild walked was named Ancestral Guardian.
When the living respected the culture of their ancestors and fought for the continuation of the tribe, their ancestral spirits would guide and protect the living.
And when a Barbarian who had embarked on this path entered a state of Fury, they could make contact with the spirit world, clearly feel the presence of the ancestral spirits, and gain various powers through different ancestral spirits.
Brunhild looked toward the south.
As far as his eyes could see, it was an endless sky and earth. Sunlight shone down peacefully, but he saw scenes of raging war, the sky ignited, and the earth turned into scorched soil.
"Molten Iron Tribe."
Brunhild turned his head to look at the Orc standing on the other side and said, "Ugosh, the Molten Iron Tribe is gradually digesting the Golden Tooth Tribe and getting stronger every day. We cannot wait any longer."
The Orc's body was tall and burly, even stronger than Brunhild.
He had a sloping forehead, a protruding jaw, prominent tusks, and rough green skin. His height was similar to a human's, but his width was far greater.
Due to their racial nature, Orcs produced many warriors and Barbarians within their tribe.
Like Brunhild, Ugosh was also a Barbarian.
However, their branch paths were different.
Ugosh's Barbarian path was—Totem Warrior.
This was evident from the items symbolizing totem beasts on his body, such as the battle bear skull shoulder guards, eagle feather cloak, and wolf claw necklace.
Barbarians who walked the path of the Totem Warrior used beast spirits as guides, protectors, and sources of power. When in a state of Fury, the beast spirits would infuse the Barbarian with supernatural power, injecting magical strength into their rage.
"The Snake Men of the Poison Tail Tribe haven't given an answer yet. These indecisive guys say they want to consider it for a few more days."
The Orc said in a rough tone.
Brunhild sneered and said, "Those reptiles in the swamp are not trustworthy. They lack blood-honor and only like to play with underhanded magic. They cannot be counted on at critical moments."
Ugosh nodded heavily: "After the war with the Molten Iron Tribe ends, we will cooperate to crush the Poison Tail Snake Men."
"Good! I have found those Snake Men unpleasant for a long time."
The human replied.
The Poison Tail Tribe was severely lopsided and lacked the ability to fight head-on.
The only one inside that made them wary was the Six-Armed Snake Woman Sword Saint. Although there were many other warlocks and shamans, they didn't pose too much of a threat to Barbarians of their Rank. Besides, they also had warriors and warlocks/shamans of their own, making them more comprehensive than the Poison Tail Tribe.
At this moment, the Orc grinned, revealing his tusks and a vicious smile.
He said to the human: "After this, Brunhild, are you ready to fight me to the death? To decide the winner and life or death, and determine the final ownership of The Borderlands."
Brunhild stared straight into the Orc's eyes and said, "Victory will eventually belong to me, Ugosh. If you beg for mercy from me then, I will spare your life."
Ugosh patted his chest: "Orcs never become slaves. Death is an honor for us, but I don't think you can bring me death." He did not hide his malice and said to the human: "You are a powerful opponent, but I will eventually snap your neck and peel off your skin to collect as a trophy."
Brunhild and Ugosh.
Both were Barbarians and leaders of the two great tribes.
They had a close cooperative relationship, but they were also competitors. They had fought privately many times, but they had never entered a state of Fury, stopping at the point of restraint.
They knew that once a battle of Fury began, it would be a fight to the death, which also meant that the Dawn Tribe and the Ironblood Tribe would go to all-out war, a battle of life and death.
Several major tribes coexisted in The Borderlands.
If they went to all-out war, it would only give other tribes an opportunity to take advantage, which was meaningless.
But once only the Dawn and Ironblood remained in The Borderlands, both had long made a promise to engage in a sacred and honorable duel to determine the ownership of The Borderlands.
"That is a matter for the future. For now, let's talk about how to deal with the Molten Iron Tribe."
Brunhild said: "We cannot pin our hopes on the Poison Tail Tribe. Those Snake Men are fickle, dark, and cunning; they are not trustworthy."
The straightforward Orc also did not like the Snake Men.
Ugosh nodded, his voice low: "My great blade is thirsting for blood. I can't wait to cut off the heads of the Dragonkin."
It was not only for the future of the tribe but also for himself.
If he killed enough Dragonkin, he would likely be able to condense a Dragon Soul Totem. By then, he would become even more powerful.
"The warriors of the Dawn Tribe are already prepared for war."
"The warriors of the Ironblood Tribe crave battle and crave bloodshed."
The two spoke straightforwardly, without any pretense. After some further exchange, they quickly reached a consensus and decided not to wait for the Poison Tail Tribe, resolving to declare war on the Molten Iron Tribe.
Just then.
Suddenly, an urgent message arrived.
Brunhild's gaze sharpened. He took out the Communication Stone from his bosom and received the message.
—The soldiers of the Molten Iron Tribe are marching toward Blackstone Pass.
Blackstone Pass, one of the key passages from the south to the north.
On both sides were steep and rugged mountains full of monsters and Vicious Beasts, making it difficult to pass. In front and behind were endless, open plains.
The Molten Iron Tribe's army had a clear goal and was gradually approaching Blackstone Pass.
The commotion caused by their march had been discovered by the sentries of the Dawn Tribe.
A dense, almost countless number of Gnolls, Kobolds, Lizardfolk, and a small number of Ogres, Centaurs, and other elites formed a large-scale legion, stepping across the open plains and approaching Blackstone Pass step by step.
"Good, good, good. Instead of continuing to digest the Golden Tooth Tribe and consolidate the territory, they are marching toward us instead."
Brunhild sneered: "The Dragon of the Molten Iron Tribe has quite a lot of spirit and courage."
Ugosh let out a low roar and said in a deep voice: "If they want war, then let it be as they wish! First, let the Molten Iron Tribe know our power at Blackstone Pass!"
Blackstone Pass was easy to defend and difficult to attack. The Molten Iron Tribe would inevitably pay a painful price here.
"The first battle is very important to us. It is a great opportunity to boost morale and concerns the fighting spirit of the soldiers later."
"I will draw some warriors from other strongholds of the tribe to support Blackstone Pass."
Brunhild said.
Blackstone Pass belonged to the Dawn Tribe, and the humans had the most defenders there.
Barbarians, warriors, and even a few Spellcasters.
Ugosh nodded and said in a deep voice: "The Ironblood Tribe will send an elite force composed of berserkers to Blackstone Pass to tear those Molten Iron monsters into pieces."
Immediately after, leaving behind a way to contact each other, the two tribal leaders left Thunder Cliff.
The humans of the Dawn Tribe and the Orcs of the Ironblood Tribe.
They had already been mobilized in advance and were already in a state of readiness for war.
As orders were issued, a large number of soldiers assembled toward Blackstone Pass, waiting for the arrival of the Molten Iron Tribe's army.
The sunset in Dragon Valley dyed the rock walls the color of blood, and the silver-white scales of the Red-Silver Dragon Deborah refracted the light of the afterglow.
She tilted her head, confusion flashing in her eyes: "Garros, the scale of the troops you sent to Blackstone Pass is not small, but the main force is made up of low-level subordinates like Gnolls, Kobolds, and Lizardfolk. Can they really take such a dangerous pass? If the first battle is lost, the tribe's morale might plummet."
Through her curious inquiries earlier, she knew of the Molten Iron Tribe's first move at Blackstone Pass and felt somewhat puzzled by it.
The Red-Iron Dragon smiled slightly and said: "They were just cannon fodder for a feigned attack anyway; it doesn't matter how many die."
"A key passage like Blackstone Pass is significant to surface creatures, but to us, it is just a scratch on the map. We Dragons control the sky; no pass can block our pace. When the war around Blackstone Pass reaches a fever pitch, that is when we will truly begin to act."
Those powerful kingdoms and Empires also had air defense alerts.
If one were to rush through, they might even be targeted by strikes from Magic Satellites if locked on.
But in a backwater place like The Borderlands, there was no need to worry about this issue. The sky was almost entirely free for Dragons to roam; only when descending to the ground did one need to consider safety issues.
The Red-Silver Dragon roughly understood Garros's meaning.
The problem was, using so many subordinates, so many living lives as cannon fodder, was a bit too cruel.
"But then again, these are necessary sacrifices on the road to order."
As a Metallic Dragon half-breed, Deborah belonged to the good alignment.
But a good alignment did not necessarily mean having a compassionate, saintly heart.
If a good knight who adhered to order was framed and extorted while helping the weak, considering that this behavior would destroy social order, it would be normal for the knight to draw his sword on the spot and execute the framer, and he would not be soft-hearted even if the other party was a vulnerable group.
The Red-Silver Dragon blinked, feeling that Garros was truly decisive and firm; he should be the King of the Borderlands.
"What about the Snake Men tribe? Are we just going to let them sit back and reap the benefits as they wish?"
The Red-Silver Dragon asked again.
The Red-Silver Dragon had no good feelings about the Poison Tail Tribe, which swayed like grass in the wind and claimed to be neutral, but was actually waiting for an opportunity to seize the greatest benefits.
"If they had surrendered and pledged allegiance from the beginning, I would have given them a very good position."
"But they chose to watch from the sidelines, wanting to take all the benefits."
The Red-Iron Dragon's mouth hooked into a sneer: "Where in the world is there such a good thing? Now they want to hold out for a better price? After the war, I will make them pay it back tenfold."
So bad, I like it.
The Red-Silver Dragon blinked, feeling that the cold Garros had even more charm.
"Garros, let's exercise together, please guide me."
The feeling of the Red-Iron Dragon's hot claws stroking her body surfaced in her mind, and her tail twitched unconsciously as she whispered.
"Now is not the time."
The Red-Iron Dragon refused Deborah's invitation to exercise: "The war situation is changing rapidly. I need to focus; let's talk about it later."
"Alright."
Deborah said with slight disappointment, then ran to the other side to play riddles with the Fairy Dragon Vera.
The Red-Iron Dragon coiled in place, listening to the discussions and the war situation in the Ignas Siblings group through the Blood Kin Chain, while silently adjusting his own state to wait for the upcoming battle.
The Borderlands, Blackstone Pass.
The setting sun was like blood, casting crimson light onto the earth.
The Kobold Doug licked his fangs and looked at the heavily guarded pass ahead.
Behind Doug, the dense Molten Iron army spread out on the plain in front of the pass.
Gnolls hunched their backs, their fur rising and falling with their breathing. Kobolds pawed at the ground anxiously with their short claws, and the fine scales on their bodies reflected a greasy shimmer in the sunlight. Tall Ogres wore heavy armor, their heavy panting like old bellows. Further out, Lizardfolk were like shadows clinging to the ground, and Centaur Warriors pawed the ground uneasily with their iron hooves. The humming of the bowstrings being tightened was faint but harsh.
"Smell that? The scent of fresh meat."
Doug's dragon-like head lifted, and a thunderous roar erupted from his mouth.
"Brats!"
"Tear that gap open! For the great Lord of the Crimson Wings, for the Molten Iron Tribe!"
After a brief pause, he spread his natural wings and roared: "Attack!"
The next moment, like a dam breaking, accompanied by the trembling of the ground, the black tide surged toward the pass with a roar.
The Gnolls were the first wave to crash against the iron wall.
They moved on all fours, bursting with amazing speed, their gaunt bodies stretching into black shadows during the sprint.
The Gnoll petty leader 'Yellow Tooth' Lak charged at the front, his claws almost sparking on the hard ground, getting closer and closer to the giant gate set up by the Dawn Tribe in the middle of the pass.
At this moment, a dull echo suddenly sounded from the top of the cliff.
Woo— Woo—
The heavy sound of the ox horn trumpet rolled over the plains and the pass like muffled thunder.
The next instant, death descended from the sky.
Above the cliff, countless black dots poured down, carrying a shrill whistle that tore through the air.
That was a dense rain of arrows.
They easily penetrated the Gnolls' simple leather armor, tore through muscles, and broke bones.
A running Gnoll had its left leg instantly pinned to the ground. It struggled with a miserable howl, trying to pull out the bone arrow, and then a second arrow pierced its neck, ending its wailing.
"Disperse and charge!"
The Gnoll leader roared, rolling to dodge an iron arrow shot at him. The arrow tip wedged deep into the ground where he had just been standing. Around him, more companions turned into twitching corpses or wailing wounded under the rain of arrows. Blood quickly gathered into small streams, winding through the gullies in the ground.
With the fall of the arrow rain.
The Gnolls charging at the front fell in a wave, but the subsequent monsters directly carried the corpses of their dead companions as shields and continued to charge forward.
After paying the price of many corpses.
The Molten Iron monsters finally approached Blackstone Pass.
The rain of arrows was still falling, and Spells like Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and Ice Spike also began to take effect, making every step of the advance difficult.
Meanwhile.
While the Gnolls and Kobolds were attracting firepower, the Lizardfolk warriors, who were good at stealth, had already quietly approached the pass.
On the cliff that was almost vertical, dozens of Lizardfolk, invisible to the naked eye, were climbing up quickly like giant geckos.
The tips of their slender claws were coarse horny hooks, deeply embedded in the rock crevices, as if walking on flat ground.
Their target was the protruding stone platforms in the middle of the cliff.
—The archer position of the Dawn Tribe.