In order to select a Warlord with iron will, a large number of leaders had gathered in Dragon Valley at this moment. After deciding to go to war with the Golden Tooth Tribe, Galos ascended into the night sky.
Under the gaze of countless pairs of eyes.
The wings of the Red Iron Dragon suddenly spread, and the sparks from the friction of fine scales poured down like a torrential rain.
"Listen up! Warriors of the Molten Iron Tribe!"
The roar of the Red Iron Dragon shook down crumbling stones: "Goblins and insects from the southeast are coveting us."
"They dare to nail boundary stakes in our rivers! They dare to leave arrow holes in our strongholds! They wish to shackle us with taxes!"
The voice paused slightly, then continued more passionately.
"I want to see the furnaces of the Golden Tooth Tribe become our iron forges! I want to see the goblins wailing and begging in the flames. I want the entire Border Area to know that a true king is coming here!"
"Now——"
