"Ever since the Federation's suppressive power began to wane, those powerful monsters that had been lurking in the depths of the wilderness are constantly emerging. Even for us Dragons, we must never let our guard down there."
At this point, his voice paused slightly.
Sniffing the air for the unique scent on Garros that belonged to the Red Dragon lineage, Alberto seemed to recall some important intelligence and added: "According to information I've gathered through my own channels, there is currently more than one powerful Dragon wreaking havoc in the wilderness."
"There is an ancient Plague Dragon that has awakened from its slumber, crawling out of its Dragon Nest to spread death and disease everywhere."
"There is also a ferocious Red Dragon known as 'Mountain-Burning Wings' and 'Frenzied Flame Bloodflame' whose arrogance is extreme. It kills its own kind without hesitation, and its strength is so great that I fear even I would have to give it a wide berth if I encountered it."
"There is a group of Blue Dragons from the Boiling Sea that act in unison. They are currently recruiting and subjugating minions in the depths of the wilderness, rapidly expanding their territory."
"..."
"Not only that." Alberto's voice carried a hint of gravity as he continued: "Our Dragon Clan's old rivals—the Giants—have also begun to show their traces in the shadows of the wilderness. There are also those powerful magic beasts and ferocious monsters... I estimate that they will become increasingly active in the future, and the wilderness will only become more dangerous."
An era of chaos is both a fertile ground for ambitious schemers to vie for supremacy and a breeding ground for terrifying monsters to break their shackles and proliferate wantonly.
The vast and boundless Serel Wilderness, with its uniquely abundant resources, has always been a natural habitat for many powerful creatures.
However.
For these past hundreds of years, under the shadow cast by the Federation, those overlords of the wilderness wisely retracted their sharp claws and fangs, suppressed their instinctive roars, and lurked in the shadows, carefully avoiding that unshakable edge.
Yet.
When the predators of the wilderness, with their beast-like keen intuition, clearly perceived that the once-indestructible shackles of suppression imposed by the Federation on this land of no-man's-land were quietly showing signs of loosening.
Their bloodthirsty and greedy edge, hidden deep within their Bloodlines, could no longer be restrained, like an undercurrent surging beneath a thawing glacier, quietly revealing itself beneath the silent surface of the wilderness.
The situation is as clear as a cloudless sun.
There is no need to wait long; the land that bears countless blood and deaths—the Serel Wilderness—will inevitably become a place where risks and opportunities intertwine, where blood and wealth coexist.
Even one as powerful as Garros knows clearly in his heart.
If he wants to get a share of the pie in this coming storm and seize enough benefits and a foothold, he must wait patiently. Only after he has gone through a deep sleep and entered the more powerful Young Dragon stage can he have enough strength and confidence to truly stand his ground and establish himself on this stage where the weak are prey to the strong.
As for now, he can only watch from the fringes.
Meanwhile.
As Alberto's metallic-toned words fell, the Red-Iron Dragon remained silent.
He had long foreseen that the wilderness would soon be in turmoil; this was not the true reason why his heart was churning at this moment.
What truly made Garros fall silent and ponder deeply was the Red Dragon that Alberto had mentioned inadvertently.
Mountain-Burning Wings, Frenzied Flame Bloodflame—its true name is Gorthax.
It is none other than the biological father whom Garros has never met, existing only in the brief descriptions of other Dragons.
Although he had never seen its true face with his own eyes, merely through the brief introduction from the Silver Dragon Adrie back then, an image of an Evil Dragon—extremely insane, chaotic, disorderly, viewing destruction as a feast, and never capable of considering even the slightest bit of blood-kin affection—had already been clearly sketched out in Garros's mind.
"Gorthax... I didn't expect him to choose this moment to return to the Serel Wilderness, this volcano about to erupt."
The Red-Iron Dragon's gaze was sharp, squinting slightly, his thoughts racing.
If he were unfortunate enough to encounter Gorthax here and now.
Garros knew clearly that with his current Life Level and accumulation of power, facing that Mountain-Burning Wings who had long entered its prime and was infamous, he would have no chance of winning.
More importantly.
Facing a chaotic Evil Dragon with a perverse and violent temperament, inscrutable motives, and behavior that could not be measured by common sense, even if it was his biological father with whom he had the most direct blood connection, Garros could not muster a single thought of contacting or acknowledging it.
That would be tantamount to voluntarily placing himself in danger.
As the saying goes—Kings do not meet; avoid their edge first.
However.
The Serel Wilderness is vast, with complex and ever-changing terrain; mountain ranges, rift valleys, sand seas, and dense forests make up this expansive land.
With Gorthax's completely capricious and unpredictable style of conduct, as long as Garros remains vigilant, plans his routes, and deliberately avoids areas where it might be active.
Unless the Goddess of Misfortune pours all her malice upon him, the probability of directly bumping into that mad dragon is minuscule.
Yet, the world is unpredictable.
If both parties truly encounter each other and end up on opposite sides.
Since there is no warm bond between them to begin with—only repulsion and vigilance stemming from the Origin of their Bloodlines—when it comes to a life-or-death moment where he must deal a lethal blow, not a shred of hesitation or pity would arise in Garros's heart.
A father departs, the son smiles; killing one's father without regret.
Such dramas are already commonplace among Evil Dragons.
"Alberto."
Garros's deep voice sounded, saying: "Regarding the 'Frenzied Flame Bloodflame' Gorthax you just mentioned, besides his name and infamy, is there any more detailed and specific intelligence?"
"He is a prime-age Red Dragon, his true name is Gorthax."
Alberto's expression was solemn as if facing a formidable enemy, his eyes flickering with dread at the infamy.
"The specific Life Level cannot be fully determined yet; it is highly likely to be Rank 19."
"One of his most famous feats in the wilderness was successfully breaking through a large-scale hunt organized by the Federation and escaping alive."
"His temperament is extremely cruel and violent; he can be called the purest Red Dragon among the Red Dragon kin, the ultimate example of an Evil Dragon."
At this point, he paused, looking at Garros carefully for a few moments.
"Why do you ask about him so suddenly?"
Alberto's voice carried clear confusion: "Have you had contact with Gorthax before? Or did you hear of his infamy beforehand?"
Garros's faceplate was rigid and thick, showing no obvious emotional ripples.
He replied: "It is just because we share a similar Bloodline that I cannot help but be a little curious."
Alberto did not notice the subtle, complex abnormality hidden in the Red-Iron Dragon's words.
He nodded in realization, his tone carrying a touch of emotion: "So that's it. Your demeanor is so calm and steady that I almost forgot that the other half of the scorching, restless blood belonging to the Red Dragon also courses through your body."
"On you, I feel almost no trace of the violent and crazy factors belonging to the Red Dragon."
He pressed on: "Is it that the Evil Dragon blood has no influence on your will at all? Or is it because of the cross-breeding, that the other half of the Iron Dragon Bloodline you inherited is stronger, thus suppressing and neutralizing the chaotic nature originating from the Red Dragon?"
Garros's expression remained unchanged, saying: "Using reason to govern power is one of my firm creeds."
Immediately.
He reined in his emotions and refocused his attention on the matter at hand, continuing to discuss other equally important, undercurrent-surging developments in the Serel Wilderness with the Golden Dragon Alberto.
Besides that insane Red Dragon bringing an ominous shadow.
The sizable Blue Dragon Flight mentioned by Alberto also aroused Garros's high alert.
He had once conversed with those few Young Dragons who had fled from afar, knowing that they had indeed defected from a rigid, hierarchical Blue Dragon community.
Moreover.
That community nest that they loathed and resisted was entrenched in the Boiling Sea west of the Serel Wilderness.
"A Blue Dragon Flight, huh." Alberto mused: "I heard they seem to be called—the Dominic Family."
Hearing this name clearly spoken by Alberto, Garros felt a shiver in his heart.
Speak of the devil.
The Dominic Family is precisely the Family that the Blue Dragon Heriam and his companions had defected from in the beginning.
If this Blue Dragon Family, currently expanding its influence in the center of the wilderness, discovered any clues and learned that The Ignas Dragon Flight had taken in the Young Dragon that escaped from them.
A fierce conflict between the two sides would likely be unavoidable.
However, Garros quickly suppressed this worry.
This was not something that needed to be considered at the moment.
He cast a scrutinizing gaze toward Alberto and asked, "Alberto, where did you get this information about Gorthax, the Dominic Family, and the shifting dynamics of the wilderness?"
Alberto proudly raised his head, straightening his broad chest in front of the Red-Iron Dragon.
"Garros, do you think these brilliant, shining golden scales of mine are just for show? My network of connections is far more vast than any Evil Dragon could imagine."
Having finally found a Domain where he could hold his head high and showcase his own advantages in front of Garros, Alberto felt a long-lost sense of pride and comfort that belonged to a Golden Dragon.
He continued, his tone carrying a hint of nostalgia, saying, "To give you the most direct example."
"My birth parents once thought my thinking was too unorthodox, incompatible with the traditional Dao of the Golden Dragon."
"To guide me back to what they considered the right path and to expose me to orthodox values and society, they sent me to the prosperous and powerful Ripos Kingdom when I was still a Young Dragon, where I was enrolled in their royal aristocratic academy for education."
"There, I met many open-minded and insightful human friends, including several princes and noble heirs. It was with their encouragement and support that I became even more determined in the unique path I had chosen!"
Garros was momentarily speechless.
This experience was truly something he could not have imagined.
However, if he were Alberto's traditionalist Golden Dragon parents, facing such a rebellious offspring would likely be quite troublesome and headache-inducing.
After chatting for a while longer about other potential threats and opportunities in the wilderness, Alberto slowly steadied his breathing, which had become slightly rapid due to his high-intensity training.
He set aside his previous casual demeanor, his expression becoming serious, and said solemnly to the Red-Iron Dragon:
"Garros, my territory in the wilderness has begun to take shape and will only grow stronger. You need to hurry as well. I look forward to the day when I can fight side-by-side with you across this vast wilderness!"
As his voice trailed off, there was no further hesitation.
The Golden Dragon Alberto flapped his wings and sped toward the high sky, gradually merging into the heavy canopy of the sky, eventually disappearing from sight, leaving behind only the ripples in the air that had yet to settle.
Garros silently watched the direction in which the Golden Dragon had disappeared and took a deep breath.
The air of the wilderness at dusk, carrying the distinct coldness of metal and the scent of dust, surged into his lungs.
He suddenly felt a slight itch beneath his dragon scales and turned to examine his scales, which were covered in a heavy metallic luster, thinking to himself: It is time to have the Snake-man Sword Saint polish me up properly.
Immediately, he beat his wings and took flight, heading toward the Fertile Plains.
Fulfilling and peaceful days slipped away like sand through fingers, quietly passing without leaving a trace.
In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.
At this moment, the Molten Iron Tribe was already sharpening their weapons and feeding their horses, with everything in readiness.
An army composed of the tribe's elite warriors had assembled, like a blade that had been sharpened for a long time, waiting only for the order from their Dragon Lord to shoot like an arrow from a bow toward the Serel Wilderness, piercing the frontier of the wilderness with their sharp edge.
Meanwhile.
Inside the deep fourth-level space of the Burning Steel Fortress, the Red-Iron Dragon was quietly gazing at an item tightly gripped in his dragon claw.
"What an exquisite creation... truly the pinnacle treasure of the alchemy industry, a crystal that could only be formed by relying on the vast and unparalleled industry of a Kingdom-level power."
In the palm of Garros's giant claw, which was strong enough to crush rock.
A colorless crystal, about the size of a human head, crystal clear to the extreme and pure, as flawless as frozen air, lay quietly there.
As the angle shifted slightly, liquid radiance seemed to flow slowly within it, refracting the colors of the surrounding environment.
It presented an astonishingly perfect cubic structure; every edge and every straight line was as precise as if measured and cut by the most meticulous hands of a god. Observing it with mortal eyes, one could not capture even a hint of a flaw or error, as if it were the perfect combination of geometry and energy science.
——black oil crystal.
Under Garros's instruction and arrangement, the Gem Merchant Guild, affiliated with The Ignas Dragon Flight, successfully received this crucial token of sincerity secretly sent by Princess Elena at the designated location.
The precious crystal, containing terrifying energy, was carefully placed into a specially made container and transported downstream along the surging Estonia Great River.
They were escorted by capable guards in disguise, eventually arriving safely and silently at Garros's Burning Steel Fortress, where they were solemnly placed into Garros's claw.
Ordinary people might find it hard to imagine.
The raw black oil, thick as ink, filthy as molten asphalt, and emitting a pungent odor—after undergoing countless, outrageously complex refining, purification, compression, and solidification processes in a Kingdom-level alchemy workshop—the essence core that finally condensed from it would be so unbelievably pure and transparent, like the finest and most flawless natural gemstone in the world, radiating an extraordinary beauty.
However, when Garros opened his dragon maw, preparing to swallow it.
An interesting phenomenon occurred.
His possessiveness toward wealth and treasure, stemming from his Dragonkin instinct, did not produce the slightest resistance to this object.
Perhaps because the black oil crystal was a cutting-edge product of modern alchemy rather than traditional gold and silver treasure, the greedy obsession with ancient Treasure Trove in the Dragonkin nature was not triggered by it.
This meant something extremely important.
As long as the reserves of black oil crystal were large enough, Garros could devour them all without any psychological barriers, turning them into pure fuel to propel his own Life Level to a leap forward.
He hesitated slightly, but eventually moved the black oil crystal away from his mouth.
"Wait until I am about to enter deep slumber for evolution; only by swallowing this batch of crystals then can I maximize their effect."
Garros calculated calmly in his heart.
His evolution was not out of nothing; it required energy, and the improvement of Life Level could not be separated from energy supply. The more rare items a Dragonkin swallowed at once before deep slumber, the higher the probability of increasing their Life Level.
After putting the crystal away.
The Red-Iron Dragon stood up and walked out.
It was noon, and the blazing sunlight poured down, illuminating the magnificent Burning Steel Fortress, making the steel fortress look as if it were burning fiercely—living up to its name.
The Red-Iron Dragon paced to the wide observation deck.
His deep gaze pierced through the shadows of the fortress, staring at the vast, boundless horizon of the southern wilderness that extended to the sky.
At this seemingly calm noon, which appeared no different from any other day, Garros lifted his head, covered in heavy scales, and issued an order through the Bloodline Connection.
"Solrog, Samantha."
"The time to reclaim our lost territory of the past has arrived."
"Pass down the order: march toward the Serel Wilderness. The target of the first battle is locked—the Scale-Earth Rift Road!"
After a brief silence, two responses came from the bottom of Garros's heart.
The Iron Dragon Sorog tried his best to restrain his excitement and said calmly, "As you command, my dear brother. The warriors are ready; we will march immediately."
The Red Dragon Samantha roared directly.
"ROAR—!!! Anyone who stands in our way will be turned to ashes!!!"
After more than a decade of fleeing the Serel Wilderness.
The Ignas Dragon Flight, whose wings were gradually becoming full, was about to make a comeback, revealing their long-sharpened fangs and claws to tear through the sky and land that once belonged to them, and reclaim everything they had lost in the past.