Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Thick night fog was torn apart by countless lights.

The fertile soil of the King's Fertile Plain was now soaked with blood and oil. Behind the retreating alchemical legion of the Gold Fang Tribe, steel treads carved deep ruts—like wounds in the earth bleeding.

The goblins were hastily falling back.

Hunger had dulled their sharp ears; their once-bright goggles were clouded with the gray of despair.

Ahead rose the uneven border foothills. Jagged stones like enormous fangs pierced the night, looking dangerously aloof.

That direction was both the goblins’ escape route and the slaughterhouse the Molten Iron Tribe had carefully chosen. They were deliberately driving the alchemical legion closer.

The moment the alchemical legion set foot on the border, a low thunderous tremor came from behind.

It wasn’t the heavy steps of golems, but the savage drumbeat of countless hooves and claws striking rock.

Then the Molten Iron Tribe’s war song stopped being a vague roar; every syllable carried a bloody hunger, smashing down like an avalanche.

The monsters launched a merciless charge.

Centaurs’ lances struck earth, metal rang; ogres beat their armored chests with iron-plated palms, sending sparks flying; ogre elites bellowed in unison, their steps crushing the ground; bipedal wyverns dove with shrieks, tearing the air...

At the same time,

it felt as if the mountains themselves had come alive!

On the steep eastern slope, hundreds of massive black shapes tumbled down like collapsing boulders—Gluttonous Ogre Karu and a group of elite ogres!

While the goblins were still smug about the Molten Iron Tribe’s supposed weakening counterattack,

Gluttonous Ogre Karu and the dragon-vein werewolf Russell had already led their elites into ambush.

The ogres refused to retreat; they ball-rolled their gigantic bodies and, relying on brute mass, heavy armor, and terrifying weight, plowed down the rugged slope, aiming straight for the disordered center of the alchemical legion.

“Hold formation! Wheel around! Acid cannons—fire!”

A goblin commander’s scream was swallowed by the terrifying roar of falling titans.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Like falling stones from the sky!

A Gluttonous Ogre smashed into several parallel Flesh Rippers.

The tremendous impact made the golems’ steel joints emit a grating metallic groan; bodies twisted and fractured.

The Gluttonous Ogre rose roaring, sweeping its fan-like hands left and right, seizing the golem’s head and shoulders—its ten fingers dug deep into armor seams.

Muscles knotted beneath scales; with teeth-grinding metal-tearing sounds, it rippped off the upper torso of a golem!

Broken piping splattered sparks and viscous black oil, covering the ogre’s head and face.

A whoosh—the black oil ignited into fierce flames, engulfing the ogre and making it more ferocious.

The Gluttonous Ogre, transformed by Red Dragon lineage, feared no flames.

A howling warcry rent the night; dense gray shadows poured like a breached dam down the gentler western slope.

It was Russell leading his grey-clad werewolves.

These warriors, between human and true wolf, possessed craftier minds and more coordinated pack tactics.

They did not have the titanic crushing power of giants, but they were ghost-fast and lethal. While running, each became a lithe giant wolf, eyes glinting with bloodthirsty ferocity.

They did not confront the huge golems head-on; instead, like deadly iron-gray whirlwinds, they slipped nimbly into gaps within the golem ranks, leaping for the goblin infantry and the relatively fragile engineering units.

“Stop them! Extinguish! Fire!”

The goblin infantry formation instantly fell into chaos. Alchemical muskets spat dense volleys, drawing orange-red death lines through the night,

but the giant wolves were too fast—both savage beasts and cunning sentients.

They crouched low, ran on all fours, darting between the golems’ steel legs; most bullets struck empty air or the golems’ armor with a clang.

A dragon-vein werewolf clad in steel-like dragon scales leapt into the air, dodging an incoming chainsaw sword.

Russell precisely pounced on a goblin engineer who was urgently pumping black oil into a golem.

Sharp wolf claws easily tore through the goblin’s crude leather armor and ripped out its still-beating heart.

As goblins tried to surround and strangle the attackers, the ground tremor drew nearer—the main force of the Molten Iron Tribe had arrived: more centaurs, ogres, countless gnolls, kobolds, lizardfolk... rolling in like a tide, flesh and blood overwhelming steel.

Goblin alchemists chanted quickly.

Their magical energy flashed like lightning through shattered parts, making those components whirl and combine so that fallen alchemical constructs began to move again.

Boom!

Explosive magic arrows pierced the air and blew apart an alchemist’s personal defensive device, turning it into splattered meat.

Half-elf centaur Elvy hovered in the sky; her slender palms created a storm of afterimages, firing explosive magic arrows with ballista-level force, like a centaur-shaped artillery piece.

“For the Dragon Lord! Tear them apart!”

The bipedal wyverns roared.

The wyvern group that had circled above the alchemical legion for some time, like carrion vultures sensing blood, dove at the crescendo of the war song.

Their targets were clear—those mechanical beasts mounting alchemical heavy cannons.

“Air defense grid—maximum power! Now!”

A goblin operator screamed in panic.

Azure arcane energy surged over the spire-like alchemical machines; chain lightning quickly formed, attempting to weave an intercepting web.

However, the wyvern assault was deviously varied.

Some opened their wings abruptly mid-dive, using accumulated kinetic energy to hurl tightly grasped objects.

They were not boulders but bright crimson orbs.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

High-explosive Flame Orbs detonated with deep flames and shockwaves. The sturdy energy shields cracked and moaned under strain, moments from collapse; the mechanical beasts staggered, their heavy cannons unable to aim.

At the moment defenses were disrupted by physical impact,

another wave of true killers arrived—physically the strongest wyverns, carrying the fiercest warriors, plunged through the defense gaps exposed by the Flame Orbs.

“Hold them! Aah—!”

The operator’s scream cut off.

Ogre Ugor leapt down from a wyvern. He was Karu’s brother and the strongest ogre chieftain besides Karu.

Ugor ignored stray lightning; his heavy battle axe, driven by downward force, cleaved through an alchemical heavy cannon, twisting the precise barrel into warped scrap.

Then more elites leaped from wyvern backs.

The wyverns crashed, grabbed, and spat corrosive acid in frenzied assault.

The goblin ranks’ chaos and collapse, like the sweetest bait, lured the circling dragons across the sky.

Red Dragon Samantha, White Dragon Trixie, Iron Dragon Sorog... they all joined the fray, aiming to slay the Grand Artificer. But they couldn’t get close; at a flick of the Grand Artificer’s arm the nearby alchemical heavy cannons shifted their aim, and under high-level alchemists’ control, they fired with potency far beyond normal heavy cannons, driving the dragons back.

Then, thunderous rumbling came from the heavens.

The cloud cover, shrouded by smoke and night, was suddenly ignited by a rapidly expanding crimson!

It wasn’t dawn—it was sparks from steel dragon bodies tearing through air, the comet-like trail behind the red iron dragon.

Garoth’s magnificent body shredded the clouds and dove.

His target was clear—the largest mechanical beasts in the alchemical legion’s rear, the ones painted with the gear insignia marking commanders’ mounts: massive mechanical beasts and alchemical golems.

Those were the command hub and morale symbol of the alchemical legion.

The Grand Artificer stood amid these constructs.

“All heavy cannons—focus fire.”

The Grand Artificer’s face was unmoved.

Alchemists’ magic—like sheets of lightning—detached and streamed, enveloping all nearby mechanical beasts and golems, concentrating on their barrels to amplify accuracy, potency, and damage.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Thick barrels spat scorching metal streams and bespoke armor-piercing explosives; heavy fire poured into the sky.

Yet,

Garoth displayed a terrifying agility disproportionate to his size.

He suddenly folded his wings; his massive body executed a perilous barrel-roll in midair. Scorching metal streams raked across his belly scales, leaving razor-bright streaks in the night. Several explosive shells detonated beside him; the violent shockwaves and shrapnel struck his scales with a dull hammer-on-anvil thunder, chipping off plates and spraying blood.

“This pain—it truly delights me.”

The red iron dragon growled and continued toward the Grand Artificer.

The Grand Artificer and several goblin elders launched another assault; fire was denser than before, trying to force Garoth back.

Seeing this, Garoth stopped dodging.

He exposed his vital areas and rammed his body straight into the barrage.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Flames burst across the red iron dragon’s body. The Frostburst Scales absorbed heat at furious rates, their color shifting almost entirely to luminous mithril.

Setting aside Garoth’s hulking physique, just looking at the scales’ hue for a second they resembled a metallic silver dragon—but that state lasted only a few seconds.

As the Frostburst Scales shattered,

thermal energy rapidly accumulated, soaring toward a limit.

“Now!”

Garoth lifted his head and inhaled deeply.

Another shell struck his chest, fracturing the last Frostburst Scale and pushing his heat to absolute maximum.

Visible to the naked eye—heat waves, almost solid, surged from Garoth.

His scales turned pure crimson, like a searing branding iron; the surroundings warped unnaturally as if reality were melting.

Thermal amplification—Destruction Breath!

“Roar!”

The dragon fire, accumulated to the extreme, finally erupted.

This was not a diffusive blast but a condensed, nearly liquid crimson torrent of annihilation.

The terrifying breath, like a god’s swung blade, swept precisely across the locked alchemical machines.

Under the Grand Artificer’s control, countless metal and steel rose from the ground, rotating into a heavy barrier before him—but were still pierced instantly.

Time froze at that moment.

Metal wailed in unimaginable heat and melted into glowing, viscous iron—flowing and dripping like molten wax.

Golem armor was pierced, torn, and vaporized like paper!

Internal engines, black oil, energy cores chain-exploded under the heat.

Boom! Boom! Boom—!

Deafening detonations merged, spitting blinding fireballs into the sky and lighting half the heavens like daytime.

Burning steel shards, twisted mechanical wreckage, and goblin limbs torn from bodies who could not flee flung out like the cruelest fireworks.

Violent shockwaves toppled several smaller golems nearby.

Thick smoke and the stench of burning flesh soared.

Although the noise was deafening, the battlefield fell into a momentary hush; flames rose like a second sun, obliterating every obstacle in their path.

“Finished? Destruction Breath is stronger than I imagined.”

Garoth slowly exhaled scorching air, feeling unsated.

His single Destruction Breath annihilated the Grand Artificer, the goblin elders, and much of the core alchemical machinery, but it consumed little from Garoth himself.

The branding red faded; his scales returned to a normal black-red sheen.

Garoth still brimmed with vigor—his stamina nearly full.

“Kill the surviving resistors. End this battle completely,” he thought.

Suddenly, amid the still-burning earth, a blinding golden light erupted.

It wasn’t explosion fire but a highly concentrated energy stream spouting from the twisted scrap metal.

Above the ruined alchemical machines, arc-like magical energy wove into a net, drawing in surrounding steel and black oil, sweeping and restructuring.

In the blink of an eye, a golem far larger than normal rose.

It wasn’t clumsy like other golems; its silhouette looked like a goblin magnified a hundredfold—sleek, streamlined, covered in dark gold alloy plating etched with dense alchemical runes.

In its head was a huge cold alchemical eyepiece that radiated a faint blue glow.

How did this thing survive my Destruction Breath?

Garoth was puzzled.

“Foolish beast, do you think you have won? You know nothing of alchemy’s limits.”

Through mechanical amplification, an icy unemotional voice echoed across the battlefield.

The next second, it moved—with startling speed.

Its massive body didn’t stride on treads or joints; ring-shaped energy shockwaves burst from beneath its feet, propelling it like a projectile into the air toward the red iron dragon that had just finished its breath and was regaining stance.

Its huge metal palm opened—not as a cannon but forming a rapidly rotating energy tearing vortex.

Simultaneously, its back armor split open and a row of massive gleaming spikes—like invisible ballista bolts—were launched, screaming through the air at supersonic speed toward Garoth’s eyes, throat, and heart.

“You understand nothing of evolution.”

Garoth set aside his doubt.

Facing the alchemical giant’s attack, the red iron dragon bit down and swallowed a bucket of black oil taken from his spatial ring.

At the same time, he reared his head and unleashed a long, roaring dragon cry.

With a piercing surge of electric sound, dense golden lightning flashed from his scale seams; his muscles swelled, his body expanding again by several notches—becoming even more of a terrifying war machine than the alchemical golem.

A wingbeat turned Garoth into a streak of golden light.

He twisted and flashed; his hulking body moved at terrifying speed to evade the sky-piercing spikes and arrived before the alchemical giant in an instant.

Level 3 Dragon Qi Activation!

Flame Thunder attached!

Flaming Claw!

Enhanced claw strike!

Black-red dragon qi, crimson-gold flame thunder, blazing scarlet flame—these energies coalesced on Garoth’s claws, forming the strongest strike his body could muster.

Sss—BOOM!

Under Garoth’s burning claw assault, the alchemical giant’s supposedly indestructible head armor collapsed inward like butter cut by a hot knife—collapsing, tearing—countless precision alchemical runes extinguished and shattered.

The giant’s enormous alchemical eye cracked under the strain.

Its head caved in; half its face crumbled.

Sizzling, lightning-like magical energy surged, trying to drag components to reassemble.

But more attacks followed.

Garoth pressed close to the giant’s torso—claws, tail, wings—all became deadly weapons, raining down like a storm.

Suddenly,

the giant’s cracked single eye flared and released a high-frequency shockwave, stalling Garoth’s motions.

At the same time its right arm rose and reconfigured—extending into a ten-meter-plus colossal blade coiled with rampant arcs of electricity. Seizing a gap in Garoth’s assault, it hammered the blade down onto him.

!

Dragon blood spattered; the red iron dragon was blasted backwards, but before he hit the ground he rebounded, returning even faster.

A blade that could split an ordinary young dragon in two left on Garoth only a wound down to the bone—huge, but far from fatal by dragon standards.

Garoth’s body was several sizes smaller than the alchemical behemoth.

Yet his offense was fiercer.

Surging with golden lightning, Garoth pounced onto the giant; in his rampage countless components scattered like severed limbs.

Clang!

The giant’s shoulder was sliced open by a whipping wing; its arm crashed heavily to the ground.

Crack!

Its half-shattered head was torn off and hurled into the sky like a baseball.

Rrrip!

Its chest armor was pierced by a spear-like tail, sending shattered parts flying.

...Garoth was nearly prodigal with his Dragon Qi; in moments the alchemical giant was riddled with holes, and its counterattacks only made Garoth, in pain, more exhilarated.

Another minute passed.

Garoth suddenly withdrew, then beat his wings. With a thunderous surge of heat and flame, he became a golden-red lightning bolt and thrust forward even faster.

Level 3 Dragon Qi Activation!

Titanic ram!

The golem’s palm slammed onto Garoth, and the rotating ripping vortex scraped away scales.

At the same time, its dark-gold chest caved in with clear contours.

Garoth’s stout, formidable horns pierced first through the giant’s chest—scales and steel sparking—then his powerful body thundered through, shattering the golem’s torso.

Boom!

The alchemical giant, as if struck by lightning, toppled completely.

Garoth reared and spread his wings, bathed in a rain of shredded metal fragments. His wounds and blood were like medals; he scanned the battlefield like a king surveying his lands and subjects.

“The Grand Artificer... is dead...”

“He’s immortal... He’s a legend!”

“No... impossible...”

The goblins who witnessed it felt their last thread of fighting spirit collapse like a popped balloon—gone in an instant.

Fear, like icy tidewater, drowned their hearts.

Some goblins slumped to the ground, the stench of incontinence spreading; some dropped weapons and wailed; others went mad, rushing foolishly toward golem carcasses or Molten Iron warriors as if drawn to burning fire.

“For the Dragon Lord! Kill—!”

“Kneel and live; stand and die!”

The Molten Iron soldiers’ roars pierced the sky. The final charge began.

With command gone, morale shattered, and their greatest war machines destroyed, the alchemical legion became lambs to the slaughter.

Though a few goblins remained in the southeast, their main forces were utterly shattered; their leaders dead, their foundations destroyed—their will to resist the Molten Iron Tribe was gone.