The Ogre camp finally regained its former tranquility after the Red Dragon and Centaurrampaged through it, save for the traces of buildings burned to ashes by the unceasing Dragonfire and the corpses scattered across the ground.
The bodies of the dead Ogres and torn Centaurs were piled together. These Ogre had not abandoned the customs inherited from ancient times; they were still on the ignorant edge of civilization. This was difficult for Fafna the Ogre Giant to reverse in just a dozen years, so these corpses would become food for the other Ogres.
They always utilized every available resource to the extreme, which was perhaps the only commendable trait of the Ogre.
As for Morgor, who had left to track the Red Dragon alone, even the awakened Ogre Giant didn't worry about him in the slightest. Even if Fafna didn't think highly of this Ogre, she still had to admit the Ogre Tyrant's immense power. A long time ago, the leader of the Centaur Tribe was brutally torn in half by the Ogre Tyrant with his bare hands amidst the Centaur's encirclement.
These Ogres were still dreaming that Morgor could drag back the Red Dragon's corpse, allowing them to share in the spoils. These Ogres had already tasted everything that could be offered in this forest, but they had never tasted the flesh and blood of a true Dragon.
That Red Dragon was so strong and mighty; eating it might allow the warriors in the tribe to grow a second head. Warriors who drank their fill of dragon blood might even awaken the great bloodline of their ancestors, like the Ogre Tyrant Morgor, and become a chieftain of the Ogre Tribe. Just thinking about it made some Ogres quite greedy.
But when the figure of the Red Dragon soared above the Ogre camp, a strong question arose in the hearts of all Ogre: "The Red Dragon is back, so where is Morgor?"
The Ogre Giant was no longer calm. How could that Red Dragon return? Morgor was not only the strongest Ogre in the Ogre Tribe but also the Ogre most skilled at tracking prey. Prey he targeted had never escaped the punishment of his great axe. Perhaps Morgor was right behind the Red Dragon, and he would be back soon.
Morgor returned! The Ogre Tyrant's massive head, with eyes scorched by Dragonfire, was thrown down from mid-air by the whistling Red Dragon. Its iron-hard skull slammed heavily into the center of the Ogre camp, kicking up clouds of dust.
Morgor's powerful, unwilling Ogre aura, unique to his kind, emanated from his gruesome head even in death. Even Fafner the Ogre Giant, who had an exceptionally strong spirit, couldn't help but feel a bizarre and absurd sense of panic from deep within her heart. Perhaps the end of the Ogre Tribe was today.
The rampant Dragonfire once again spread through the Ogre Tribe, engulfed in fear. The powerful Ogre warriors in the forest were chased by the Centaur they had previously disdained.
They forgot that they still held weapons far more refined and sharper than the bone spears and wooden lances their enemies carried. They forgot that the leather armor they wore was far tougher than the animal hides their enemies were clad in. They only cared about wailing and fleeing like the prey that used to run from their tyranny.
The warriors of the Centaur Tribe had never felt as exhilarated as they did today. Their galloping four hooves propelled the sturdy hunting spears in their hands to effortlessly pierce through the bodies of their enemies, who didn't even dare to resist.
The strong Centaur Trogdor charged at the forefront. His long hunting spear pierced through two Ogre who were only focused on fleeing. He didn't even have time to pull out his spear before he collided with a third Ogre. The half-inch long spear tip, which had emerged from the bodies of the two Ogre, plunged into the enemy's heart.
Trogdor pushed forward, leaving his weapon in the Ogre's body, then picked up the iron spears the Ogre had dropped and charged onward. Behind him were Aoni and Kari, who had also changed their weapons. The three strongest warriors led the elite Centaur, their hooves trampling through blood, transforming the Ogre camp into a bloody hell.
Kalon did not waste time chasing the already terrified and disheartened Ogre. After releasing Dragonfire around the camp, he let the unceasing Dragonfire ignite every corner of the Ogrecamp.
Then he folded his wings and descended. Although the Dragon Clan could still fly by relying on magical lift, having less than half a wing made it difficult for the Red Dragon to flexibly control his direction and speed during flight.
He stepped forward to where the White Dragon and Blue Dragon had already been laid down by the Centaur. The two young Dragons , having endured much torment, looked quite weary, but their eyes lit up upon seeing the Red Dragon's arrival.
"I knew you, Kalon, would come to rescue us," White Dragon Germott struggled forward excitedly. Having been force-fed several pounds of poison a day, even a naturally powerful body of a Dragon would be exhausted and weak by now.
The White Dragon crawled in front of Kalon, looking up at the quiet Red Dragon. Being timid and cowardly, he was not disappointed; Kalon still protected him, just as he always cared for the Dragon Clan.
"I did not agree to the Ogre's demands and betray you," the young White Dragon said like a child needing praise, "Carlit betrayed the our Dragon Clan. Kalon, you must be careful."
The Red Dragon did not speak. Instead, he lowered his head and gently helped the White Dragon Clan up with his intact, movable right claw. Then he gently touched his own head to the White Dragon Clan's forehead, and then to Akzi, who was nearby and too shy to ask for credit because he was already a young Dragon Clan.
Only then did the Red Dragon speak: "Germott, you are very brave and did very well. I cannot ask for more. And Akzi, you are both part of the Dragon Clan, and my brothers. I will not abandon you. As for Carlit, she made her own choice, and she will naturally bear the consequences."
Kalon raised his head, pointing to the Ogre's remaining forces, which were gradually gathering around the Ogre Giant and putting up a stubborn resistance, and said, "Come, follow me, and see how I crush those enemies who dared to invade the Dragon Clan, bringing the fire and blood of revenge to this land."
Fafna was surrounded by the remaining Ogre who had not fled into the forest, in front of the tent. Her almost transparent thin veil could not conceal her alluring body. She cocked her ear, listening to the chattering forest fairies standing on her arm. That was the message transmitted to her by Ogre Twin-Headed Warlock Black through other fairies. She knew she might still have one chance.
Fafna could flee into the forest like the other escaped Ogre, but doing so would mean the Ogrewould never rise again, only becoming a wandering tribe like other weaker tribes. This was unbearable for the ambitious Fafna.
Moreover, she believed in the bloodline she inherited from the ancient Soul-Devouring Sea Demon. As long as she could control this Red Dragon, everything would turn around, and the Ogre Tribe would be stronger than ever before. The Dragon Clan's potential was something that foolish Ogre Tyrant could never compare to.
The message from Ogre Warlock Black further strengthened her resolve, so she raised her arm, which reflected a jade-like glow in the sunlight, and shouted, "We surrender! The Ogre Tribe is willing to submit to the mighty Dragon Clan."