"I can't just attack you for nothing."
The expression on Alberto's face quickly shifted from the previous enjoyment and satisfaction to one of extreme solemnity.
His golden vertical pupils stared straight at Gallos, and he continued in a serious tone: "Gallos, in our previous battle, there were too many interfering factors."
"Whether it was the siege of your subordinate dragons or the need for me to divert my attention, I never truly got to experience your full power, especially when you were surrounded by that astonishing lightning."
"Right now, please let me feel it more directly once more."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
A flicker of surprise passed through Gallos's dragon eyes as he confirmed in a deep voice.
"Absolutely sure!"
The Golden Dragon's answer was resolute.
Since the other party insisted so strongly, the Red-Iron Dragon naturally wouldn't dampen his spirits.
Crackle! Crackle!!
The hair-raising crackling sound of electric current suddenly tore through the tranquility above Dragon Valley.
Black-red Dragon Qi and fervent golden lightning burst forth from Gallos in an instant, causing his Aura to surge and increase sharply, exuding a terrifying sense of oppression.
Alberto did not dare to be careless; he activated both the Oath of the Crown and the Oath of Conquest simultaneously.
A solid, tangible sacred armor first appeared, attaching to his body surface, while the shining golden crown further amplified its defensive effect, plating it with a thick layer of golden light.
The very next second after this dual Sacred Oath defense was completed.
A thick dragon claw, wrapped in Dragon Qi and Frenzied State lightning, clenched into a hammer-like shape and charged straight in.
Crack—crash!
The armor cracked and shattered.
The Red-Iron Dragon's heavy blow landed squarely on Alberto's chest.
The immense impact caused Alberto's massive Golden Dragon body to shudder violently.
"Ugh—!"
A suppressed grunt involuntarily escaped his throat.
The originally solid and magnificent dragon scales on his chest, under Gallos's heavy strike, visibly caved in and collapsed.
The tremendous force even transmitted to his back, causing the tough scales there to emit faint cracking sounds.
Alberto's body involuntarily arched forward violently.
"Indeed... very... strong..."
The Golden Dragon forcibly endured the overwhelming pain and shock within him, extremely slowly, bit by bit, straightening his arched body again, his voice carrying a hint of suppressed gasping.
"...But... indeed... within my tolerance."
Before his words faded, he did not stay a moment longer. His massive golden dragon wings flapped fiercely, stirring up strong air currents, and like an arrow from a bowstring, he flew urgently straight toward the direction of the Serel Wilderness, quickly disappearing into the deepening twilight sky.
Gallos hovered silently in place, his huge Red-Iron Dragon wings gently stirring in the evening breeze, his expression calm and unruffled.
However.
The moment Alberto's golden figure gradually shrank and disappeared over the horizon... the calm expression on Gallos's face crumbled.
He suddenly bared his teeth, reached out a claw, and touched the mark left by the Holy Strike on his chest.
Perhaps it was related to his Bloodline, or perhaps because his personality also fell within the category of evil.
All the various effects of the Holy Strike on evil creatures were applied to Gallos.
"This somewhat unbearable pain... I haven't experienced it in a very, very long time."
Gallos took a few deep breaths of the cold night wind.
It seemed... perhaps in the future, he should specifically seek out a powerful Paladin? Or at least a creature with similar holy power to a Paladin?
Could he use their attacks to repeatedly train and adapt his resistance to this kind of divine punishment power?
Only then, when he truly faced attacks like the Holy Strike in the future, could he be as calm and fearless as he had shown before, in the truest sense.
As for his subordinate, the half-blood Centaur Elvie.
Although her attacks also carried holy attributes, she was ultimately not a Paladin, and the effect was still far from sufficient; using her to train resistance would likely be far from enough.
At the same time.
In the distant other end.
Alberto, while forcing himself to fly, kept looking back warily until he was completely sure there were no prying eyes.
Swish! He could no longer hold on; his massive Golden Dragon body plummeted like a meteor, landing heavily on a remote rocky slope.
Pff—!!!
The moment he landed, before he could even retract his wings, his throat churned violently, and he could no longer suppress a large mouthful of hot dragon blood, which splattered fiercely onto the rocks.
"Roar!"
Alberto let out a pained cry. His enormous dragon body could no longer maintain its majestic posture; he collapsed awkwardly to the ground, then uncontrollably rolled and flailed on the gravel-covered ground.
Pain, too painful.
It felt as if heart-wrenching pain surged within Alberto.
He carefully sensed it; oh, it turned out not to be 'as if'—his heart and lungs had indeed been injured.
If it had been an ordinary young White Dragon, this blow would probably have pierced straight through, sending its Soul back to Hell.
Alberto endured the suffocating agony, tremblingly raised his dragon claw, and continuously cast several powerful Holy Light Heals on himself.
After a long while, he felt the overwhelming pain subside slightly, and his violently heaving chest finally allowed him to breathe steadily, although with every inhale, a persistent, needle-like dull pain still came from deep inside.
Thinking that Gallos, merely in his juvenile stage, already possessed such terrifying, overwhelming power.
The proud Alberto fell into a brief silence.
A few seconds later, his gaze became resolute, and he decided to set a harsh Sacred Oath for himself to motivate his transcendence over the Red-Iron Dragon.
"I, Alberto Aurelius, hereby swear this Sacred Oath, witnessed by my Bloodline, my glory, and the Golden Law I have pursued all my life!"
"Until I completely surpass the Red-Iron Dragon, Gallos Ignas!"
"I will reject all entertainment and leisure! I will no longer allow myself any meaningless rest or laziness! I will tirelessly, with all my might, sharpen my claws and fangs! Temper my scales! Hone my will and strength!"
"Until I become stronger than him! Undeniably stronger!"
"If I break this oath, may I, Alberto Aurelius, undergo Reincarnation and be reborn as a mere White Dragon!"
Hum—As his last oath syllable fell, an invisible, immensely heavy force suddenly descended.
Alberto immediately felt as if an invisible, intangible, yet icy-cold sharp sword was hanging above his head, its tip pointing straight at his Soul, and slowly descending.
This was the binding force of the Sacred Oath.
It clearly reminded Alberto: Although he was in terrible condition, with heavy internal injuries and mental exhaustion... thanks to the Golden Dragon's extraordinary physique, he was far from the point where he had to lie down immediately and rest completely.
Any trace of slackness or laziness would be a desecration of this heavy oath.
Alberto's heart tightened, and he dared not be negligent.
He clenched his dragon fangs, forcibly enduring the still-churning pain and deep fatigue within him, then flew into the deep night sky.
"With the restraint of this oath, relying on the talent of my Golden Dragon Bloodline, I will eventually surpass Gallos."
"Then I'll take a good rest."
Alberto thought optimistically, his figure bathed in the twilight, fading into the distance.
And with Alberto's departure and the complete fall of night, the deep, ink-like darkness, like a huge velvet curtain, slowly enveloped another land that had weathered many vicissitudes—the Alva River Valley.
This river valley, winding through the mountains, lay precisely at the border between the Duchy of Abel and the Duchy of Haltai, one of the most sensitive and complex areas along the long border of the two nations.
Among them, the Duchy of Haltai had always been the most loyal and obedient supporter of the Kingdom of Lothern, its status almost equivalent to a vassal territory of the Kingdom of Lothern, with every move deeply influenced by the will of its suzerain state.
On the other side, the Duchy of Abel.
Maintained a close and friendly relationship with another giant within the Federation—the Kingdom of Ripos.
The Kingdom of Ripos, a country holding a pivotal position within the Federation's internal affairs, had national power and influence second only to the powerful Kingdom of Lothern, the undisputed second pole within the Federation.
Back to the main topic.
Due to some extremely complex special reasons involving the early founding of the two nations and even more distant history, the long border between the Duchy of Haltai and the Duchy of Abel had never been precisely surveyed on the ground by both sides together, nor had they ever jointly signed a formal border treaty fully recognized by both governments with the highest legal validity.
The two countries had vastly different interpretations of historical evidence, understandings of ancient treaty clauses, and perceptions of traditional jurisdictions... They were as different as heaven and earth.
This led to large areas of overlapping sovereignty claims along most sections of the border—both sides claimed indisputable sovereignty over the same land.
Moreover, the geographical environment of the Alva River Valley was particularly complex and changeable: towering mountains, deep and treacherous canyons, swift and winding rivers... This varied terrain itself was prone to disputes.
More troublesome was that natural river course changes, sudden landslides, and even small-scale geological subsidence frequently occurred here... These continuous geographical changes further exacerbated the difficulty of precisely determining specific boundary control points.
So much so that the final result was:
There existed huge and irreconcilable differences in the specific alignment of the border lines claimed by both sides.
In the map versions drawn by each country, the lines representing sovereignty claims often had large, interlocking, mutually unrecognized disputed zones between them.
Against this backdrop.
When armed forces such as scouts, sentries, and patrols from both nations encountered each other unexpectedly in these sensitive disputed areas, it was highly prone to tense confrontations or even fierce conflicts.
However, for a long time in the past, because both sides belonged to the loose but effective framework of the Federation, and with the more powerful Kingdom of Lothern and Kingdom of Ripos acting as 'major powers' coordinating and exerting pressure, the Duchy of Abel and the Duchy of Haltai had always maintained considerable restraint.
Both sides strictly followed unwritten rules.
—Keep the level of conflict to a minimum, limited to pushing, arguments, or small-scale hand-to-hand combat, and try to avoid using lethal weapons, let alone escalating into a real war.
Yet... tonight, in the Alva River Valley, this repeatedly claimed land, seemed to be filled with an unusual atmosphere.
Beneath the calm surface, undercurrents were stirring.
The night was as thick as undissolved ink. A crescent moon cast a pale, bleak silver light, barely illuminating the rushing river of the Alva River Valley and the steep contours of its banks.
A border guard patrol belonging to the Duchy of Haltai was conducting a routine inspection strictly along the designated route, following what they considered 'their own' border.
Their steps were heavy, and their bronze scale armor glowed with a faint cyan luster under the cold moonlight.
Unknowingly, they stepped into the disputed area where both sides firmly claimed sovereignty, with highly overlapping claims.
Sure enough, as expected.
Almost at the same moment they entered this sensitive zone, on the other side of the valley, another patrol from the Duchy of Abel emerged like ghosts from the shadows of the coniferous forest.
Heavy black-iron breastplates covered their upper bodies, seeming to absorb all light under the moonlight, appearing particularly somber and grim.
Under the cold moonlight, the turbulent Alva River was cut into countless jumping, shimmering silver scales.
Soldiers from both patrols emerged cautiously from the dense coniferous forests on both sides of the valley at almost the same time. Across the not-so-wide water surface, their gazes clashed like swords.
The captain of the Haltai guard was exceptionally burly, with his iconic thick red beard trembling slightly in the cold wind.
He pressed firmly on the hilt of the longsword at his waist with one hand, and raised the other to signal the team to halt.
'Get back! You Abelites!'
Captain Todd's thick red beard shook violently with his shout: 'This is the sacred territory of Haltai, personally designated and indisputable by the Kingdom of Lothern! Leave immediately, or face the consequences!'
Opposite.
The leader of the Abel patrol was a rugged-faced, sharp-eyed one-eyed sergeant.
A ferocious scar, like a centipede, tore from his forehead all the way down to his neck, looking particularly terrifying under the moonlight.
Facing Todd's warning, this one-eyed sergeant named Barton did not retreat but instead grinned and cursed.
'Old Todd, what a load of bullshit!'
Barton replied gruffly, his voice like a cracked gong: 'Take your Haltai whelps and get the Hell back to your southern hollow! Every inch of this valley, every stone, has belonged to our Duchy of Abel since ancient times! This is our indivisible territory!'
Saying this, Barton unhesitatingly unbuckled the belt of his sword, letting the heavy steel longsword, along with its scabbard, clatter onto the gravel on the ground.
Then, he removed his heavy arm guards, the steel gauntlets clashing sharply against his chainmail, producing a crisp, harsh metallic sound.
He flexed his thick neck, producing a faint crack, and then walked step by step toward the opposite bank, toward the Haltai troops.
The Abel soldiers behind him, without verbal command, moved in unison, removing their weapons—swords, shields, short axes—and throwing them heavily to the ground.
Pairs of calloused fists clenched tightly, knuckles popping with a scalp-tingling crack.
On the other side, the Haltai warriors were equally unwilling to be outdone.
'Remove armor!'
With Todd's low, powerful command, bronze scale armor, swords, short spears—all metal weapons were also removed and cast aside.
The golem guards that had been silently following behind them had their engines instantly shut down, entering standby mode.
The Haltai soldiers also clenched their fists, with the dignity and unyielding spirit of warriors, facing the approaching Abelites.
Soon.
The oppressive atmosphere reached its peak. With a low roar from someone unknown, it was like igniting a fuse—the battle erupted instantly!
The soldiers from two different duchies, each bearing their own loyalty, surged like two fierce tides under the leadership of their respective officers, colliding and mingling violently, turning into a chaotic melee on the banks of the cold Alva River.
Hard, heavy military boot soles crushed the thin ice on the riverbank, producing crisp, piercing cracking sounds.
Fists filled with anger and power struck opponents' faces, chests, and ribs, producing a series of dull thuds.
The heavy chainmail on the soldiers scraped and clashed violently during the intense struggle, producing a continuous, grating metallic noise!
All these sounds, mixed with heavy breathing, angry roars, and painful grunts, echoed repeatedly in the deep Alva River Valley.
Todd tackled Barton into the icy stream, his red beard covered in frost: 'Give up and I'll let you—ahh!'
Barton's knee suddenly hit him in the groin. The Haltai man curled up like a shrimp in pain, but still raised his fist to smash into the Abelite's nose.
As time passed, the melee gradually became clearer.
Although the soldiers of the Duchy of Abel were brave, they seemed slightly inferior in numbers and individual physique.
Finally, when the last few Abel guards were thrown to the ground by the Haltai soldiers, writhing in pain and unable to rise... Captain Barton, with blood streaming from his nose and barely standing unsteadily after being beaten by Todd, finally raised his right hand, covered in mud and blood and trembling slightly.
This was the traditional gesture in border conflicts to admit defeat and signal a stop.
Seeing this gesture, Redbeard Todd, enduring the sharp pain and dizziness in his vitals, released his left arm that had been instinctively clamping Barton's neck and tried to straighten up.
'Hmph!'
Todd panted heavily, with the disdain and mockery of a victor, spat a bloody wad at Barton: 'Get back to your Abel territory! Don't let me see you in this valley again!'
He thought tonight's conflict would end there, like countless times before.
However.
This time, contrary to everyone's expectations.
Barton, who had just struggled to his feet, did not silently retreat with his troops as usual after hearing Todd's taunt.
A complex expression mixed with helplessness, ferocity, and a trace of guilt appeared on his rugged, blood-stained face.
In the moment when Todd was off guard and even somewhat relaxed.
Barton's right hand, the one that had just made the surrender gesture, shot like a viper toward his lower back!
Whoosh! A matte-finished alchemy dagger, reflecting no light under the moon, was drawn out with lightning speed!
Without a moment's hesitation! Thud—!!!
The razor-sharp blade, with a tearing sound like ripping leather, precisely and coldly plunged deep into Todd's unprotected throat.
Then, the blade slashed horizontally.
A huge, horrifying wound was instantly opened! Blood gushed like a fountain from Todd's neck.
Barton looked into Todd's eyes, which were wide with pain and disbelief, rapidly losing their light. His lips moved as if to say something, but only a faint whisper came out: '...Sorry, Redbeard...'
'Tonight... orders from above... wanted some... more intense conflict... I had... no choice...'
Warm, life-filled blood, like the thickest dye, instantly soaked the icy stream beneath Todd, spreading a glaring scarlet under the moonlight.
Both the Haltai soldiers and the Abel soldiers were stunned by this sudden, brutal killing.
After a brief silence.
'Captain Todd!!!'
'Barton! You bastard!!!'
In two languages, equally filled with extreme anger, grief, and disbelief, furious roars erupted like ignited gunpowder from the soldiers on both sides.
At the same time! Vroom—rumble!!!
The Alchemy Golems, which had just been shut down and stood silently nearby, suddenly lit up with glaring red eyes. Their huge gears and drive shafts emitted deafening roars, and their heavy steel bodies were instantly activated.
They took heavy steps, rumbling into the battlefield.
Clang! Clang!
The swords and blades that had been removed and thrown on the ground were instantly picked up again by countless angry hands.
Cold metal reflected deadly glints under the moonlight. The border conflict, originally strictly limited to fists and feet, spiraled out of control amidst the roaring engines of the Alchemy Golems declaring destruction, the piercing symphony of countless swords clashing violently, and the soldiers' roars filled with blood, tears, and hatred.
Escalated into a completely irrational, bloody, brutal, and relentless... tragic bloodbath.
Ps: Finished my 2nd exam yesterday. It went shit very quickly. Guys pray that I don't fail or else I might face my Asian mother's 'warmth'.