"Evil Dragon!"
"How dare you destroy the Ancestral Spirit Altar!"
A whisper, trembling with Fury, rang out from the swirling dust.
Shaman Leoni was covered in dust but unharmed. Protected by two guards on her left and right, she stared fixedly at the Red-Iron Dragon.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Huge chunks of rubble were heaved aside as the Ancestral Guardians emerged, their tattooed totems glowing with intense light.
Aside from the four guards Garros had crushed directly, the other elite guards affected by the aftershocks had some injuries but none were dead; they were clearly elites.
"Destroy? I want annihilation."
The Red-Iron Dragon said unhurriedly.
Opposite him, Leoni's withered fingers dug deep into the carvings of her staff, her knuckles turning white.
Fury danced in her murky eyes as she rasped, "Do you think dragon fire can burn away the Legacy of the Dawn Tribe? You will pay for this desecration, you Evil Dragon whelp!"
After a pause, the Shaman's voice suddenly rose in pitch.
"Ancestors of generations past, please grant us the power to punish this Evil Dragon!"
The surrounding Ancestral Guardians let out a furious roar in unison—it did not sound human, more like layers upon layers of growls.
The tattooed totems on their bodies burst into brilliant light. At times they looked like beautiful women, at others like majestic male faces. These projections manifested as individual ancestral war spirits before shrinking back to merge with them.
Their muscles bulged like fermenting dough, and their bones cracked like popping beans. In the blink of an eye, they transformed into giants at least four meters tall, with veins on their bodies swelling and pulsing like earthworms.
Even their weapons were covered in layers of light, becoming massive.
"Finish this quickly."
Garros's deep voice sounded like two hot irons rubbing against each other. He slowly lowered his stance, his tail spike scraping against the ground with a teeth-gritting sound.
Anyone could see that the Red-Iron Dragon was preparing to attack.
However, the Ancestral Guardians, who were Barbarians by trade, were in a state of Fury and rage, fearing nothing. Instead of dodging, they charged forward.
The first to pounce were two guards with giant bear skulls embedded in their shoulder pauldrons.
The ground trembled as they charged, and the arc of their stone axes left streaks of afterimages in the air.
Garros did not dodge. Instead, he raised his right claw to meet the axe blades—Clang! The explosion of metal colliding made the surrounding ruins shower with dust. The axe blades caught in the gaps of his scales, sparking and leaving marks that were neither deep nor shallow, failing to draw blood.
Rip!
The Red-Iron Dragon's left claw rose and fell, slashing horizontally like a blade. One guard's body exploded into a mist of blood, the tattooed totem was torn apart, and his body was ripped to pieces.
But strangely, the totem light drifting in the air did not vanish. Instead, guided by an invisible hand, it sank directly into the crumbling mountain beneath their feet.
"For the Dawn Tribe!"
The towering, hulking Ancestral Guardian let out a layered roar, leaping high and swinging his giant axe at the Red-Iron Dragon's neck.
Even in his Fury, he could still feel the power of the ancestral spirits. It was as if countless hands were gripping the giant axe with him, delivering the strongest strike ever made.
Zzz! Crackle!
A sound like the hissing of countless lightning bolts suddenly rang out.
Dense, shining golden lightning surged over the Red-Iron Dragon's body. His already strong physique expanded by several sizes, his muscles almost bursting through his dragon scales, highlighting textures like cast steel.
Since this was a lightning-fast decapitation strike, ending the battle quickly was the primary goal.
Garros did not wait for the opponent to break through his Frostburn Scales; utilizing all his power, he directly activated his Frenzied State.
"Die, vermin."
The Red-Iron Dragon's form suddenly blurred.
The guard's axe blade only cleaved through an afterimage. With a flash of golden light, Garros's true form had already appeared three meters behind him.
Flames ignited on his dragon claws as he surged forward.
In an instant, the flesh and bone of the guard's back were torn open like thin paper.
But even more fatal were the dragon fire and lightning that surged into his body.
The Ancestral Guardian's chest suddenly glowed with intense light, and the next second, he exploded from the inside out, burning flesh and bone fragments splattering the ground.
The Ancestral Guardians in a state of Fury were like cockroaches that couldn't be killed.
Even if their heads were lopped off, their headless bodies could continue fighting for a while driven by instinctual rage. However, under absolute crushing power, they were still killed in one blow by Garros, unable to fight again.
"Samantha!"
Garros roared, his gaze locked on the chanting Old Shaman Leoni.
The Red Dragon was already prepared.
She spread her wings, liquid-like flames igniting between the gaps in her scales, which then automatically condensed into hundreds of sharp crimson crystal spears in the air.
With a light tap of her claw, those crimson crystal spears shot toward the Ancestral Guardians like a rainstorm.
The three guards in the front row raised their totem giant shields, and the ancient runes on the shield faces lit up with blue light.
The crimson crystal spears struck the light curtain but were not deflected—instead, they shattered instantly, bursting with brilliant light and flames.
Boom! All the spears exploded at once.
Blood-red flames instantly engulfed the bodies of the guards.
That was not ordinary fire, but a lethal weapon formed by the Red Dragon's Flame Dragon Breath refined through alchemy. The surrounding earth and stone were swept by the aftershocks, melting into high-temperature crystals.
"Mind Thrust!"
Solrog's voice sounded like cold anvils striking each other.
Strange ripples appeared on the surface of his obsidian-like dragon scales, and psionic energy condensed into invisible spikes, piercing the minds of the Ancestral Guardians.
Two guards who were about to attack Garros from the flank suddenly stiffened.
It was as if red-hot steel needles had been driven into their brains. Even though the Fury state reduced their pain sensation by nearly ninety percent, this intense agony still made their bodies tremble. What was worse, their ancestral spirits were also damaged.
The Psion's attack had a specific targeting effect on these Ancestral Guardians.
Rip!
With a wave of the Red-Iron Dragon's wings, the stiffened Ancestral Guardian was cut in half at the waist. That thick, tough muscle, capable of withstanding blade attacks, appeared so fragile and vulnerable before the Red-Iron Dragon's wing slash.
Samantha and Solrog both flew over.
The powerful bodies of the dragons, combined with their Spell-like Abilities and class skills, made it difficult for the Ancestral Guardians—who could fight a hundred alone—to resist, and they were quickly killed one by one.
However, the totem light on all the dead Ancestral Guardians sank into the ground instead of dissipating immediately.
Wing slash followed by a claw strike, followed by a tail sweep.
After the tail sweep came another round of vicious claw strikes.
The Red-Iron Dragon used a simple, fierce, and relentless offensive to kill the obstructive guards along the way in a few moves, charging to the Old Shaman with almost no obstruction.
Her field of vision was suddenly filled by the majestic, lightning-wreathed Red-Iron Dragon.
"With my life and Soul, I sacrifice to the ancestors!"
The Old Shaman raised her head, her wrinkles bunched together, but there was no fear of death in her eyes. She only finished her chant at the last moment and struck her staff heavily against the ground.
Boom!
The ground cracked.
Under one claw of the Red-Iron Dragon, the Old Shaman's body turned into radial blood mud, embedded into the ground.
Totem light lit up from her remains and sank into the mountain. The remaining Ancestral Guardians ignored everything, killing toward the Young Dragons like madmen, only to be swiftly cleared and killed.
Just then.
The mountain, which had been trembling and shaking from the battle, suddenly became stable.
As the rays of light shone and intertwined, the altar pattern finally formed by them was branded onto the mountain rock, emitting a distinct aura.
"The Ancestral Spirit Altar didn't break? No, this thing wasn't a pure entity to begin with."
Garros realized.
Old Shaman Leoni and the surrounding Ancestral Guardians had used their lives and Souls to reunite the Ancestral Spirit Altar.
At the same time, chunks of rock reorganized like flowing mud. Centered on the Ancestral Spirit Altar, a rock giant silhouette as tall as a small hill formed in the blink of an eye, its size larger than all three Young Dragons combined.
The rock giant stood up but did not attack.
It silently guarded the Ancestral Spirit Altar at its heart, adopting a defensive stance.
With its rock body covered in totem tattoos, it looked like it possessed impregnable defensive power; the rock giant seemed born purely for defense.
As time passed, the totem light on its body faded, but it was certainly enough to hold out until reinforcements arrived.
If one only killed the Old Shaman and the guards but failed to destroy the altar, this raid would not be a true success.
A radiant runic glow illuminated Red Dragon Samantha, and the surface of her dragon scales was coated with a luster like steel metal. Immediately after, she flapped her wings wildly, using her body as a weapon to crash into the Stone Guardian.
Boom!
The Red Dragon collided with the Stone Guardian's raised, massive arm and was sent flying backward by the recoil. Meanwhile, the Stone Guardian's arm cracked with branch-like patterns, but as the earth and stone churned and flowed, it healed in the blink of an eye.
Garros noticed that the Stone Guardian had some kind of connection to the mountain below.
It seemed that as long as it wasn't destroyed in a single blow, and as long as the energy of the altar hadn't dissipated, it would regenerate endlessly.
"To be able to linger in The Borderlands for hundreds of years, you truly have some foundations and methods."
Besides the Alchemy Legion, the Goblins also have the Grand Artificer's palace, and the Ancestral Spirit Altar of the Dawn Tribe is no less impressive.
"Unfortunately, you encountered me."
Golden lightning flashed and crackled across the Red-Iron Dragon's body, leaving cracks on the Frostburn Scales on his surface wherever it passed. He absorbed the scorching heat generated by the Frenzied State and stored a portion of it.
The thermal energy value in his body skyrocketed.
"Samantha, Solrog, use your Dragon Breath on me."
He said.
The Red Dragon and the Iron Dragon did not hesitate for a second, unleashing their Flame Dragon Breath and Electric-Fire Dragon Breath respectively, which landed on Garros.
He endured the damage from the two Dragon Breaths, as well as the stimulation of the Frostburn Scales caused by the Frenzied State.
The thermal energy value surged, increased violently, and went wild.
In the blink of an eye, the Frostburn Scales on the Red-Iron Dragon shattered, revealing the inner layer of dragon scales that had turned as red-hot as a branding iron. His entire body rolled with heat waves, causing the surrounding air to distort.
Thermal Enhancement—Destruction Dragon Breath!
Boom!
The scorching dragon flames turned into a torrent of destruction, surging out from the Red-Iron Dragon's mouth. With unstoppable, all-destroying, terrifying power, it swept toward the Stone Guardian.
The Stone Guardian had poured all its attributes into defense.
It was slow, and the moment the Destruction Dragon Breath reached it, it hugged its body to defend itself, and the totem tattoos on its rocky skin lit up with the brightest light.
However, it was to no avail.
The Destruction Dragon Breath was overwhelming, disintegrating and melting the Stone Guardian inch by inch, eventually turning it into a pile of high-temperature semi-solids resembling lava crystals. The Ancestral Spirit Altar, which had been protected within the Stone Guardian, was also reduced to ashes and ceased to exist entirely.
In an instant.
All the Barbarian Ancestral Guardians belonging to the Dawn Tribe who had sacrificed to the ancestors and received blessings or protection, including the leader Brunhild, felt a pain in their hearts, as if they had lost something important.
The Ancestral Spirit Altar was passed down through generations of the Dawn Tribe; it was the condensation of their spirit and a symbol of their tribal culture.
The path of the Ancestral Guardian also required one to take up the class at the Ancestral Spirit Altar by praying or sacrificing to the ancestors.
Now that the Ancestral Spirit Altar had been destroyed, it would be difficult for the Dawn Tribe to produce any more Ancestral Guardians. Moreover, after the Barbarian leaders were injured, they would no longer be able to easily regenerate and recover through the altar as they used to.
The strategy of bottom-level attrition combined with top-level decapitation.
Achieved great success.
"Destroying my Ancestral Spirit Altar, it will be an endless feud!"
The Barbarians' eyes turned blood-red one by one, including the tribal leader Brunhild. He and a group of Advanced Barbarian leaders were running frantically, rushing toward the location of the Ancestral Spirit Altar, and were gradually approaching.
However.
First came a deafening, low, muffled sound, and the night was almost turned into daylight by the flames soaring into the sky.
Immediately after.
Wide, massive wings that blotted out the sky tore through the night, covering the moonlight and casting a thick, huge shadow on the ground. They sped rapidly, sweeping past Brunhild's body.
He looked up and saw several Dragonkin figures leaving from the direction of the altar, gradually moving further away.
"Despicable and cunning Evil Dragon! If you have the guts, come down and fight me to the death!"
It hurt, it hurt so much.
Brunhild's eyes were crimson, blue veins bulged on his thick neck, and his battle axe split the ground with spiderweb-like cracks.
This Barbarian chief, who had always been known for his calmness, had now completely torn off the mask of reason and let out a hysterical roar at the firmament.
The sound waves shook the nearby pine needles, causing them to fall with a rustle, but they failed to disturb even the airflow at the wingtips of the Red-Iron Dragon.
Garros merely lowered his vertical pupils, which were as deep and black as the night, scanning the furious figure as if looking down at an ant, and then continued to soar leisurely in the high sky.
Those curses mixed with ancient Barbarian slang were nothing more than hymns sent by the night wind to him.
The enemy's angry curses never made Garros angry.
In his view, this was an affirmation of his methods and a tribute to him.
Barbarians, the representatives of Fury and rage; while they gained terrifying power through Fury and rage, they also bore a fatal weakness—the angrier they became, the more their reason melted like ice and snow.
Even the usually wise and steady Brunhild had now become a beast dominated by anger.
They clearly sensed that the Ancestral Spirit Altar could not be saved, yet in their rage, they still made the wrong choice. The high-level leaders all rushed toward the Holy Land that had already become ruins, ignoring another strategic location they had been keeping a close eye on before.
"The starry river is brilliant tonight. Returning to the nest now would be a bit of a waste of such beautiful night scenery."
The Red-Iron Dragon stretched his wings, his dragon scales clanking, and laughed: "Solrog! Samantha! Follow me to Blackstone Pass to patrol the border under the moon!"
The night wind swept across the wings of the Young Dragons, making a clear, resonant sound.
Behind them, the torches of the Barbarian tribe were like a frenzied swarm of fireflies, moving further and further away in another direction, while the silhouette of Blackstone Pass ahead gradually became clear in the moonlight.
Soon after.
Blackstone Pass.
There was still undried blood on the gate, and the guards of the Dawn Tribe laughed as they kicked the heads of Gnolls at their feet, completely unaware that the Ancestral Spirit Altar on the other side had turned into scorched earth.
Only a few leaders gripped their suddenly dimmed Communication Stones, their expressions uncertain.
On the plain south of the pass, the Orc Berserkers of the Ironblood Tribe were still venting their desire for slaughter, chasing the remnants of the Molten Iron Tribe.
Suddenly, the fiercest Orc leader stopped, his rough palm pressed against his wildly beating heart.
A trembling sensation of being watched by a predator made cold sweat seep from his scarred nape.
The moment he looked up, the Orc's pupils reflected two pairs of massive wings that blotted out the sky.
The steel scales of the Iron Dragon Sorog reflected the cold moonlight, while the body of the Red Dragon Samantha was like bright red flames.
Boom!
Before they could react, the ground shook violently, as if a meteorite had struck the earth.
The Berserker turned to look back, and then saw that the Blackstone Pass, which had originally stood on the earth as an impregnable fortress, was now like collapsed building blocks, turned into ruins amidst the flames. An incredibly strong Dragon shadow was rampaging within it, killing the remaining garrison like crushing ants and bugs.
The Red-Iron Dragon casually waved his claws, crushing three shield-bearing Barbarians.
Where the dragon wings swept, guards wearing steel breastplates were cut in half. A Berserker seized the opportunity to leap onto the dragon's back, but before he could land, he was pierced through the chest by a spear-tail. Then, with a gentle shake, his upper body exploded directly into a blood mist.
After the incident at the Ancestral Spirit Altar.
The Advanced leaders here had also rushed over in a panic, and the remaining mid-level leaders were completely unable to withstand the ferocity of the Dragon.
The furious Barbarians did not fear death and took honor in battle, roaring as they charged at the Red-Iron Dragon. The Red-Iron Dragon showed no mercy either, granting their wish and letting them die in battle.
"The great Lord of the Crimson Wings has arrived! Counterattack! Counterattack!"
Kobold Doug shouted.
The appearance of the Dragon caused the Molten Iron soldiers, whose morale had almost collapsed, to suddenly perk up. Their fear vanished, and they turned to slaughter the Orc Berserkers, cooperating with the powerful Iron Dragon and Red Dragon to kill this elite Berserker force entirely.
On the other side.
"Blackstone Pass is under attack!"
An urgent message came through. When Brunhild wanted to ask for more details, on the other side of the Communication Stone, there was a huge roar, and then there was no more sound.
The destruction of the Ancestral Spirit Altar was a foregone conclusion.
The victory previously achieved at Blackstone Pass had also been reduced to ashes.
Brunhild, who had just calmed his anger a little, saw his eyes turn blood-red again, covered in bloodshot veins. But as he took a deep breath and pressed his fingers against the throbbing veins on his face, his angry emotions were slowly brought under control, and his reason was not completely swallowed.
Things had reached this point.
He could only think carefully about what to do next, try his best to recoup losses, and launch a counterattack.