Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

"Victory belongs to the dragonkin!"

"Victory belongs to the Molten Iron Tribe!"

"Victory belongs to the great Redwing Lord!"

....

Dawn had only just begun to pale the eastern horizon; the sun had not yet risen.

But atop the Tempering Heights, with tearing, sky-piercing cries of fanatical triumph, this long-running campaign had ended decisively—an undisputed, complete victory for the Molten Iron Tribe.

"The Geosymbiotic Pool... excellent. Its scale is ten times what it used to be."

At the center of the stronghold, within a tightly guarded chamber, Garoth once more gazed upon that familiar-yet-strangely-updated Geosymbiotic Pool.

It looked completely different from the abandoned ruin in his memory; the pool’s area had expanded more than tenfold.

Its walls had been reinforced with some magically imbued obsidian and metal. Even approaching it slightly, Garoth's iron dragon bloodline instincts went frantic, signaling the presence of extremely pure metals and mineral essences ahead.

Garoth trudged forward with heavy steps to the pool’s edge and lowered his massive dragon head to look.

Refined iron marrow, crimson steel marrow, ruby marrow, dark-gold marrow... all manner of top-tier precious ores and metallic crystals spread across the pool bottom and walls like living things, glittering with an alluring sheen.

Their total quantity might not be mountains high, but they were by no means scarce.

More importantly, their quality was extremely high—almost all were rare top materials barely seen on the market, worth a small fortune.

"All good stuff."

The red iron dragon bobbed his head, flicked his thick tail with a practiced curl, pried a fist-sized chunk of dull metallic-reflective refined iron marrow from the pool wall, and tossed it straight into his maw filled with razor teeth.

After a few heavy chews he swallowed it and showed a trace of satisfaction.

These minerals would nourish and fortify every scale, every bone, every muscle, making his body grow stronger faster.

With this pool of prime minerals, plus Crystal Princess Elina’s continued investment of black oil crystals and various magic gems imbued with elemental energy... he had no need to worry about resources.

Even though his life level was already higher now, his rate of improvement would not slow.

"Leaving this Geosymbiotic Pool here in the past was the right decision."

"When the humans occupied this place, they poured massive resources into cultivation and upgrades... and now, everything, with interest, returns to us."

The iron dragon Sorog descended as well, following the fierce tug of his bloodline instincts.

Even with his usual composure, seeing the enormous Geosymbiotic Pool caused a flash of burning heat to ignite in his dragon pupils.

The Raymond Duchy had stockpiled heavy forces here. Besides the Tempering Heights being an important strategic point in itself, this upgraded Geosymbiotic Pool was undoubtedly a core reason.

If not for the intense fighting on the southern front drawing away most of the duchy's top combatants, the number of powerful defenders stationed here would likely have been far greater.

Garoth showed no restraint; with his tail he flicked up several differently colored ore pieces, stuffing them into his mouth to chew and swallow.

After a thoughtful moment, he flapped his wings violently and launched skyward.

The red iron dragon circled once above the Tempering Heights, surveying his reclaimed territory, then roared down onto a stretch of ruined battlement that still stood—cracked and scorched—his sharp talons gouging deep into the hard iron-and-rock surface.

He lifted his majestic head and looked out in every direction.

He lowered his gaze over the thousands of subjects who were cheering, working, or resting below,

and then he spread his wings to their fullest extent, displaying them like the clearest of war banners.

"People of mine! This victory is only the beginning!"

His deep, sonorous voice rolled across the heights like thunder, vibrating into every creature’s ears.

"From this day forth! Under the shelter of my wings, the Molten Iron Tribe will be invincible, victorious in every assault!"

"The banners forged of fire and iron will be planted across every inch of the Ser Wilderness!"

"Victory and glory belong to me! To the tribe! And to every one of my subjects who fought for me and never backed down!"

He lifted his head to the sky and released a rallying dragon cry that split the clouds, proclaiming the arrival of a new era.

Garoth was not a dragon given to flamboyant displays, but after such an utterly satisfying, sweeping victory, it was necessary to speak words that would stir the hearts of his people—to maximize morale and strengthen his authority.

As his voice faded,

the followers listening erupted.

The centaur warriors slammed iron hooves into the earth with thunderous drumbeats; ogres pounded their bone-plated chests until dull thuds echoed; werewolves lifted their heads and sent out long, bloodthirsty howls into the sky as night retreated.

Countless gnolls, kobolds, lizardfolk... every member of the Molten Iron Tribe vented their excitement and ecstasy in the fiercest fashion of their own kinds.

A thousand gazes, mixed with awe, zeal, and worship, fixed on the towering dragon silhouette upon the ruined wall.

After several dozen seconds,

under the watchful eyes of his followers, the red iron dragon expanded his wings again. His enormous body spiraled up into the brightening sky, ripping a long, comet-like trail of heat across the pale teal canopy before disappearing into the distance.

The tumult and cheers on the heights slowly dwindled with his departure.

Then, according to plan, the red dragon Samantha beat her wings and returned to the Spinebreaker Hills she oversaw, which were slowly being converted into an alchemical industrial zone.

The young blue dragon Heriam and the red dragon Kahir paired up and returned to the Ximu Domain.

They would both rest and reinforce defenses at the main base.

The iron dragon Sorog chose to temporarily garrison the newly seized Tempering Heights.

He methodically ordered the heads of the followers assigned to this place to immediately begin cleaning the battlefield residues, carefully sort and collect all intact alchemical machines, armor, weapons, and other valuable spoils, and properly dispose of the piled corpses and useless debris.

Not long after,

Ser Wilderness, Needleleaf Valley.

The red iron dragon folded his wings and landed on a familiar clearing beside his lair.

Slimes that had long been waiting there swarmed instinctively toward him, only to be driven back by a low rebuke from him.

After completing a round of intense training that still left him wanting more,

Garoth breathed heavily, gradually relaxed, and then ordered, "Come."

Permitted, the slimes surged forward like the most diligent attendants, their soft, adhesive bodies inching along, carefully wiping and cleaning Garoth’s scales.

The cool, slick touch removed grime and brought a refreshing coolness.

"Tempering Heights is only the beginning."

"Our short-term goal now is to take the entire northwest region of the wilderness."

Garoth closed his eyes and feigned sleep, savoring the slimes’ cold, supple touch as it worked into the seams of his scales, enjoying the respite and grooming while quietly thinking over the coming strategy.

The Ser Wilderness was vast enough to make powerful kingdoms jealous.

Across this land, numerous duchies and kingdoms, and even hidden strongholds of mighty organizations, lay scattered like stars. The scale of just the northwest region alone surpassed the Convergence Lands.

But

now most of those human states’ elite forces and top-tier champions were tied up in the unprecedented civil war on the southern front, fighting on their main battlefields within their own territories.

Not in these remote wilderness outposts.

As long as one did not fear the possible retributive purges from the Federation afterward, the outposts the Federation’s nations had set up in the wilderness were not problematic for the Molten Iron Tribe at the moment.

For the time being, the tribe’s strategy was clear.

As long as they did not deliberately provoke strongholds aligned with the Lothrian Kingdom, they would avoid extra trouble.

Conversely, if they launched offensives against outposts under the Ruboss main state’s influence, they could even gain tangible financial and material backing from Crystal Princess Elina.

At least, until the civil war within the Federation settled, this tacit understanding would likely persist.

What truly required vigilance and attention,

were the powerful entities similar in nature to the necromancer Phillips, or the red dragon Gorthax—beings who, taking advantage of the Federation’s civil war and the collapse of order, no longer restrained their followers and were emerging everywhere.

"The wilderness is vast and wild, rich with resources—the very soil that breeds power."

"When the Federation once stood at its zenith, strict and orderly, many mighty creatures chose to lie low, hiding in secret caves, ancient ruins, or seldom-trodden depths, quietly sharpening their claws and waiting for their moment."

"Now that moment has come."

"Those hidden beasts and venomous serpents will gradually show their fangs and claws, more and more of them."

Garoth analyzed the situation quietly.

He knew clearly that these powerful beings—sharing his ambition, craving power and resources—were the real threats the Molten Iron Tribe would face next.

If any of them decided to emerge now, their aims would surely be to seize resources, expand territory, or realize long-nursed ambitions.

They were not like the fixed garrison legions of duchies or kingdoms whose primary role was defense; leave them alone and they would remain peaceful.

These rivals of the Molten Iron Tribe were the very sources of chaos and expansion.

However, Garoth did not see this as a problem or something insurmountable.

On the contrary, he viewed an era of rising warlords and chaotic contenders as exactly what he needed.

For a monstrous dragon descendant like him—one who by nature would be targeted and hunted—this kind of chaotic age, where no single power could dominate the world, provided an excellent opportunity for growth and expansion.

He gathered his scattered thoughts and refocused on concrete intelligence about the northwest.

Back when the Molten Iron Tribe first unified the Convergence Lands, before the Federation’s civil war erupted in full, he had prepared ahead—sending many elite scouts into the Ser Wilderness to infiltrate and gather various intelligence.

Now those early investments were paying off.

According to the compiled reports,

as the Federation’s control over the wilderness weakens rapidly, the northwest has begun to shake off its restraints like a beast breaking free, and the power structure is being violently reshuffled.

Among them, five existences had risen by virtue of overwhelming strength and rapid expansion, their names now spreading with fearsome repute.

The Deer King

The Four-Headed Serpent King

The Hundred-Eyed King

The Lion King

And himself, the Lord of Molten Iron.

Some well-informed, perceptive beings who grasped the rough layout referred to these five most powerful presences in the northwest collectively as the Map Kings, or the Five Kings of the Northwest. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Disregarding his own title of Lord of Molten Iron,

among the other four Map Kings, the Deer King was a highly intelligent, element-commanding high-grade monster that took the form of a lithe, elegant white doe.

Under it gathered many powerful monsters of varying intelligence, occupying the mistwood region in the northwest.

The Serpent King and the Lion King were two infamous predators.

Unlike other beasts that acted only on instinct, both possessed intellect comparable to humans and unique special skills; they could not be treated as ordinary predators. They commanded and ruled formidable packs, entrenched in the Maze Marsh and Echo Rift respectively.

As for the Hundred-Eyed King, it was a rare, psychically powerful beholder-like entity.

Through terrifying mind-control abilities, the Hundred-Eyed King enslaved many races—humans, humanoids, ferocious beasts, and monsters—constructing a twisted yet powerful domain with its lair in the No-Light Jungle.

"That lich necromancer... if he hadn’t been unlucky enough to run into me first, given time, the northwest might have gained another Lich King."

Garoth thought.

Any creature that could be hailed as a "king" at an early stage of such turmoil could never be weak.

If the Molten Iron Tribe wanted to expand smoothly in the northwest, conflicts with these neighbors were almost inevitable.

Meanwhile,

the slimes finished cleaning and retreated soundlessly. The refreshed red iron dragon opened his eyes and gazed at the wide sky and other directions of the wilderness.

The victory at Tempering Heights was just the prelude.

Not only in the northwest—in other regions of the Ser Wilderness, east, south, and center—similar powerful Map Kings existed.

It was foreseeable that, as time passed, these opportunistic Map Kings would erupt into ever more brutal clashes and annexations, ultimately contending for a single ruler who could genuinely dominate the entire region: the regional king.

On this vast wilderness stage,

only by first becoming a true regional king could one attain the authority and strength necessary to contest the ultimate title of Wilderness King.

It was worth mentioning

that the red dragon Gorthax mainly operated in the central wilderness and he already bore a name.

The Mad King.

Because of his chaotic and wanton behavior, he had not systematically eliminated other central lords, but his outrageous madness had already given him the appearance of becoming a regional king; barring accidents, it was only a matter of time.