Translator: AnubisTL
The sun blazed brightly, its intense rays pouring down upon Garos, bathing his scales in a golden, foil-like radiance.
By the time Solgorn regained his senses, his claw had already risen, gripping the red-iron dragon's powerful hand.
His body had reacted before his mind could catch up.
The iron dragon paused for a few seconds, then smiled in relief. "Garos, my dear brother," he said, "I will walk by your side, witnessing your rise to dominion over all the future."
Garos nodded and pulled the iron dragon from the mud.
The surrounding ogres exchanged confused glances, unsure of the situation until Garos formally introduced Solgorn, the Iron King, as his brother by blood.
Karu scratched his head and apologized to the Iron King.
"Oh, esteemed Iron King," he said, "Karu is foolish. Your strength and wisdom forced me to resort to dishonorable tactics. Please forgive my earlier offenses."
The Gluttony Demon spoke with a boisterous manner, a simple smile on his face, yet his words carried a subtle cunning. He gave Solgorn ample respect, and the Iron Dragon recognized this Gluttony Demon's unusual nature, viewing him with newfound admiration.
"Garos, your familiar is quite impressive."
Instead of harboring resentment for the Gluttony Demon who had defeated him, the Iron Dragon offered praise. Then, reflecting on his own defeat, he mused, "The records of our inheritance may not be entirely reliable. My defeat stemmed not only from arrogance and carelessness but also from my reliance on tradition. I was blinded by stereotypes, assuming ogres were foolish and overlooking individual differences."
Garos's earlier motivational speech wasn't entirely empty rhetoric.
He understood Iron Dragon Solgorn well, knowing he was one of the rare dragons capable of self-reflection, admitting his mistakes and failures, rather than clinging to the belief that the world revolved around him and that he could never be wrong, as most of his kind did.
However, recognizing the problem was one thing.
Overcoming it was another, and that was the true challenge.
Afterward, the hyena-men and kobolds were assimilated and integrated into the Ironforged Clan.
After learning about the four battle groups under the Ironforged Clan, the iron dragon believed that since the clan system had been abolished, it should be done completely. The original clan names should be erased, and different creatures should be distinguished solely by their race, such as the Ogre Tribe, Hyena-man Tribe, and Kobold Tribe.
The battle group names should better reflect their specific characteristics.
It suggested to Garos that the battle groups be restructured based on their strengths and characteristics, rather than their former clan affiliations.
For example:
The Bonechewer Warband, the largest and most powerful battle group, now consisted entirely of ogres. Their immense strength and resilience made them excel in frontal assaults and defensive formations, serving as the primary force for breakthroughs and territorial defense.
In the future, if minotaurs, trolls, or similar familiars were recruited, they should also be assigned to the Bonechewer Warband.
By extension:
Battle groups should be organized based on shared strengths and characteristics, each fulfilling a distinct tactical role.
In times of war, this would allow for easier deployment of specialized units tailored to specific combat scenarios.
In short: professional specialization and complementary strengths.
This military strategy, drawn from the Monarch Theory, offered better command and control than battle groups organized by race.
As for the Bonechewer Warband's name, the old clan markings would be replaced with new titles like "Iron Warriors" or "Starbreaker's Hammer."
After careful consideration, Garos adopted the iron dragon's suggestion, first settling on "Starbreaker's Hammer" for the warband's name.
To instill a sense of honor and boost morale within the battle group, the iron dragon also devised a battle cry:
"Crush skulls, drink blood! Shattered bones sing our song!"
These nine simple words conveyed an indomitable, unstoppable, and savage spirit—perfect for creatures who revered strength above all else.
Once the names and battle cries for the other battle groups were finalized, along with the detailed rules and regulations, the previously loosely organized warbands would be formally restructured.
Garos entrusted this task to Solgorn, appointing him Iron Dragon Regent—a position akin to a prime minister, chancellor, or secretary-general.
"I will forge for you a territory as impregnable as iron! Legions as unstoppable as the tide!"
"One day, the Ironforged Clan will become the Dragon Kingdom, forged in steel and tempered by flame!"
The iron dragon's mind was brimming with knowledge of Monarch Theory, Lordship Theory, and other such doctrines, and it was eager to put them into practice.
The hyena-men and kobolds under its previous command had been few in number and of poor quality, making them unworthy of serious management. But the Ironforged Clan's scale and quality far surpassed that of the Juvenile Dragonkin Clan, filling the iron dragon with excitement and fully igniting its innate passion for governance.
"Not so fast," Garos grinned. "You need to heal your injuries first. Come with me, I'll take you somewhere."
The two dragons soared into the sky from the Gravel Beach.
Garos led Solgorn toward Needleleaf Valley.
He considerately flew ahead, his wings parting the air currents to ease the iron dragon's flight.
Behind the red-iron dragon, Solgorn gazed at the slightly protruding silver wing bones and hollow tips of Garos's wings, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.
"Garos, your appearance has changed dramatically," Solgorn remarked.
"Especially these powerful and unique dragon wings. I've never seen anything like them before, and our inheritance makes no mention of any iron dragon or red dragon with such wings."
"Just as you excel at governance, I possess other innate talents," Garos replied.
The iron dragon's eyes widened. "You mean you're also a variant dragon?!"
Variant dragons and hybrid dragons were distinct concepts.
Any dragon with special mutations or unique talents could be classified as a variant dragon, whereas exceptional hybrid dragons merely inherited the best traits of their parents without developing entirely new abilities.
Historical records documented numerous outstanding variant dragons.
One such dragon resided on Bernardo Planet.
For example, there was the twenty-four-winged golden dragon, a Primordial Golden Dragon.
Born with twelve pairs of dragon wings, each pair possessed distinct special abilities, granting it unparalleled innate talent and immense power. Its legendary status was enshrined in the inheritance of every newborn giant dragon.
These twelve pairs of sky-veiling wings sheltered the Metallic Dragon Clan, deterring even the most powerful empires from rashly provoking them.
However, this Sky-Veiling Wings was now in its twilight years, on the verge of death.
If it were to advance further, it would become eternally immortal, beyond the reach of time and age.
If it were to die, the already declining Bernardo Dragon Clan might face a catastrophic upheaval, one that would affect not only metallic dragons but all dragon clans.
Back to the matter at hand.
"Almost," Garos replied simply.
"Oh, let me see what's special about your wings. They look quite extraordinary."
The iron dragon mistook Garos's exaggerated dragon wings for a natural talent, curious about their specific capabilities.
There was no need to hide them; they would be revealed sooner or later anyway.
Garos grinned, and thick, dark-red flames suddenly erupted from the tips of his wing bones, startling the unprepared Solgorn.
Boom!
A deafening roar filled the air. When the iron dragon dodged the crimson flames and looked ahead again, it could only see Garos's receding figure in the distance, trailing a comet-like tail.
The iron dragon clicked its tongue, marveling at Garos's astonishing speed.
Only now did it fully realize the truth.
The object that had descended upon the Quenching Highlands, which it had mistaken for a crimson comet, was none other than Garos.
The red-iron dragon's massive body carved a comet-like arc across the sky, circling back to hover before the iron dragon. The surging flames behind its wings extinguished as it resumed carrying its companion aloft.
"Garos, my dear brother," the iron dragon said in awe, "it's truly astonishing that your colossal frame can combine such incredible speed and agility. I already pity any creature foolish enough to oppose you in the future."
Even as a fellow male, the iron dragon couldn't deny Garos's exceptional qualities.
His powerful, ferocious, and majestic presence made him the epitome of an evil dragon—a creature destined to become an ultimate tyrant, a king among dragons.
Perhaps my own brother could become the next Sky-Veiling Wings, the savior of evil dragons, Iron Dragon Solgorn mused inwardly.
(End of the Chapter)
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