Chapter 371: The Red Dragon Queen and the Lord of Molten Iron

Convergence lands, Dragon Valley.

A biting cold wind whipped the falling snow into a furious gale beneath a leaden sky, and a huge dark-red silhouette streaked through the air at top speed.

The red iron dragon’s heavy scales were smeared with viscous demon ichor and flecks of torn flesh, the abyssal filth blackening and charring from the searing friction with the air, flaking off and being ripped away by the gale into nothingness behind him.

After finishing the forced training session with the brass-silver dragon Deborah, Garoth still felt unsatisfied and decided to make a detour to the Abyssal Rift, where he vented his accumulated rage through a brutal massacre of demons.

Right now, he was in a calm, clear-headed sage period.

Some things only become more precious when faced with the threat of loss.

Because the frenzied flame continued to erode him from within, Garoth now more than ever realized how vital it was to maintain clarity and cool judgment.

“Wait... once I fully adapt to and master the frenzied flame, what will I ultimately become?”

A thought suddenly crossed Garoth’s calm mind.

“Will I be able to keep a clear, rational mind even at the peak of fury? Or will my spirit and will be tempered so hard that anger no longer arises at all?”

He hoped for the former.

If so, his opponents would no longer face a mindless rampaging beast, but a genuinely terrifying “wild dragon with a brain.”

That would be every enemy’s nightmare.

But the latter possibility could not be ruled out.

His adaptation and evolution process was not entirely governed by his conscious will, and the final outcome could easily exceed his expectations and bring unforeseen changes.

“It seems I need to consciously seek and test suitable methods, guiding the adaptation so that I can remain calm amid rage, rather than letting it be completely severed or discarded.”

Garoth pondered.

“For example, when anger accumulates to a high but not yet uncontrollable level, instead of rushing to release it, I should force myself to think clearly and calmly as a form of resistance and training.”

He quickly formed his first workable idea.

Forcing rational thought amid surges of fury is undoubtedly extremely difficult; in his Dragon Legacy, there are no records of an elder dragon having successfully done this.

But that did not mean it was impossible.

Garoth knew that certain intelligent species, like some humans, have innate individuals capable of logical thought under extreme emotion.

Since it is not impossible,

he might be the first great dragon to set such a precedent.

Then,

I can leave that in the Dragon Legacy as something to brag about,

“You can stay rational in Wild State, can he?”

Continuing to mull over possibilities for adapting to the frenzied flame and managing emotions, Garoth held his flight course toward Sorog’s territory.

Only a few minutes earlier,

the Dragon Queen’s silhouette had torn through the thin curtain of wind and snow and appeared over Sorog’s domain.

He lowered his massive head, scanned the valley floor, and noticed the battle below.

“Attack! My loyal followers, fight for the glory of the great Red Dragon Queen! Crush the targets!”

A theatrically amplified female dragon roar rang out.

“Foolish reptiles! How dare you offend the dignity of the great Lord of Molten Iron?! Under my Crimson Lotus Fire, you shall all turn to ash!”

Another voice, even more exaggerated and trying to mimic a low, thunderous roar, immediately retorted.

...........

On a relatively flat clearing at the valley bottom,

a group of tiny golems, no larger than hunting hounds and made from metal and unknown materials, clicked and clanked as their internal gears and levers moved.

Under the command of a haughty red dragon figure with its claws on its hips, they surged toward a large, imposing form across from them—a dragon resembling a four-armed Red Lotus Form, the so-called Lord of Molten Iron, Garoth, who towered above the field.

The Red Dragon Queen was Samantha.

The Lord of Molten Iron was an image created by the faerie dragon Vira using Garoth’s simulacrum technique.

“Such big dragons, yet still playing childish role-playing games.” Garoth watched the scene and shook his head slightly.

Samantha and Vira.

They had played these games for a long time.

As time passed, Samantha grew up and took charge of the Molten Iron Tribe’s expanding alchemical industry, becoming busier, and she played the Red Dragon Queen much less often.

But clearly,

she had not truly given up the fun inside her heart.

Now, the battle below had reached white heat. Both Samantha and Vira were so absorbed in their roles that they didn’t notice Garoth’s return at first.

Whoosh—!

Garoth deliberately stirred his dragon wings, sending a strong downwash that scattered the snow in the clearing and finally drew the combatants’ attention.

The Red Dragon Queen and the Lord of Molten Iron stopped in their tracks at the same time.

They lifted their heads and looked up at the dark-red silhouette in the sky.

Under Garoth’s gaze, Samantha quickly waved a claw, and the miniature golem legion charging across the ground immediately froze, then as if gathered by invisible hands, condensed into points of light and vanished, absorbed into some spatial device.

On the other side, the faerie dragon Vira immediately dispelled the maintained simulacrum, and the imposing Lord of Molten Iron dissolved in a puff like a bubble.

“You may continue, you don’t need to mind me.”

Garoth slowly descended beside them, his massive talons leaving deep impressions in the snow.

His desire to control did not extend to interfering with his companions’ harmless pastimes, and he did not mind the playful roleplay between Samantha and Vira.

On the contrary,

seeing them keep this little joy while taking on their responsibilities amused him.

“A game? What nonsense are you spouting.”

Samantha, as if her tail had been trodden on, immediately lifted her head to protest.

She tilted her chin and adopted a stern, serious expression, explaining righteously, “This is serious combat training! By simulating commanding a legion, I improve my actual troop-control skills. This is not the childish play you imagine.”

After speaking, she flicked a glance at the nearby faerie dragon, seeking support with her eyes.

“Yes! Yes! Samantha is right!”

Vira flew to Samantha’s right, hovering near her head and nodding like a woodpecker, chiming in, “This is very important training!”

Wouldn’t it be more honest to admit you’re just relaxing with a game?

Garoth watched the pair’s synchronized denial and could not fathom their stubbornness.

He didn’t bother to press the issue, and instead asked Samantha,

“You came from the tribe, is there something you needed?”

Samantha didn’t answer immediately. She took a few steps forward and inspected Garoth’s increasingly majestic frame, focusing on the bulging muscle contours and the structure of his joints.

“The restraint armor you commissioned me to design and craft—after studying it for some time, I now have preliminary ideas and concepts.”

She tapped Garoth’s hard shoulder plate with a claw covered in red scales and continued, “But ideas alone aren’t enough; I need precise data.”

“Let me see.”

“I need to record your current body structure in detail: the length and width proportions of each part, the maximum contraction and extension of muscle groups, and other key data.”

Hearing this, Garoth cooperatively spread his giant wings fully and adjusted his stance slightly, showing off a body packed with power and beauty, rugged and imposing.

Samantha began to circle him slowly, her gaze sharp as a ruler, occasionally gesturing with a claw or murmuring numbers and terms as she observed and recorded.

Vira mimicked Samantha, fluttering her wings and circling Garoth again and again, eyes wide as she scrutinized every detail.

This would help her refine the simulacrum technique so the generated image would be more realistic and powerful.

“I must warn you, Samantha.”

Garoth looked at his sister and said, “At my current growth rate, the body measurements you record now may soon lose reference value.”

Samantha lifted her head and glanced at her brother.

“My dear brother, is this basic question something a professional alchemist like me would fail to consider?”

Her tone carried a trace of pride and glee as she said, “You just need to cooperate with the measurements. Leave professional matters to a professional dragon.

“Give me some time, and I guarantee the restraint armor I deliver will not only perfectly meet your functional needs but will also look both magnificent and fierce, befitting your identity as Lord of Molten Iron.”

The Molten Iron Tribe now controlled abundant resources across the northwest region of the wilderness, far wealthier than before.

As the tribe’s chief alchemist, Samantha could freely draw on plentiful rare materials for experiments and production. With her talent and resources combined, her alchemical skills had made great leaps, and she was naturally full of confidence.

Before long, Samantha and the faerie dragon finished collecting Garoth’s body data.

Samantha did not immediately return to the tribe’s alchemical district; instead, excitedly she dashed back to continue the so-called “legion control training” with Vira.

Soon, the corner of Dragon Valley echoed again with the Red Dragon Queen’s marching orders and the Lord of Molten Iron’s indignant roars.

Their second world war had officially broken out!

Inside Scorchsteel Fortress, the exhausted brass-silver dragon Deborah, forced by Garoth’s training, had already fallen into a deep, heavy sleep and knew nothing of the valley’s war.

White dragon Trixie was on another training ground, drilling the young dragons, teaching them the importance of ecological niches, and instructing many combat and exercise techniques.

Throughout Dragon Valley, the falling snow gave way to an order and calmness.

Garoth did not join either side, nor did he choose to rest.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!

Outside the valley, the wind and snow still screamed tirelessly.

Inside the valley, the red iron dragon silently drank down a large bucket of viscous, high-energy black oil, then swallowed several gems suffused with pure magical energy to replenish his spent power, and resumed training, quietly accumulating every ounce of strength and honing every inch of muscle.

Talent had given him the foundation.

But he always repaid it with sweat.

Not long after, the sky outside darkened further and night fell, yet inside Dragon Valley a fierce red glow illuminated the terrain—that was Garoth in Red Lotus Form, the natural radiance from his body turning the drifting snow a crimson hue.

However, the light soon began to subside.

“Envoys from the Dominik Dragon Cluster have sent a messenger wishing to see you.”

After receiving the news via bloodline connection from the iron dragon Sorog, Garoth concentrated and intentionally controlled his state, slowly withdrawing from the energy-draining Red Lotus Form.

“For Heriam and the others?”

The Dominik Dragon Cluster’s stronghold lay in the central area of the Ser Wilderness and had little prior contact with the Ignas Dragon Cluster that dominated the northwest region.

Evil dragons rarely engaged in meaningless social calls.

Garoth already had vague guesses about why the blue dragons had suddenly sent an envoy.

“I asked directly. They prefer to negotiate with you and gave no clear answer. Their attitude was vague, but I estimate it’s most likely about that matter.”

Sorog said, “The one who came is a blue dragon named Zoraya, said to be a direct descendant of the Dominik Cluster leader, a mature female blue dragon. She wishes to meet with you face to face.”

The red iron dragon’s gaze chilled, thin veins of blood appearing at the corners of his eyes.

A wave of irritation rose.

“If their leader had something to discuss, they should come personally to see me! Not send a descendant!”

Garoth said in a deep voice.

Sorog keenly noticed Garoth’s unstable, irritable tendency.

“Garoth, calm down.”

He warned.

Prompted by the bloodline message, Garoth snapped back to awareness, realizing his judgment had been clouded by frenzied-flame-induced irritability.

He inhaled slowly several times, forcing rational thought amid rising anger.

In truth, setting aside subjective offense, objectively: for two powerful dragon clusters with no prior acquaintance to open initial contact by sending an envoy—and that envoy is a high-ranking mature dragon, the leader’s descendant—this was already a fairly sincere and polite diplomatic move.

The blue dragon Zoraya coming alone risked great danger; if the Ignas Dragon Cluster harbored ill intention, she might never return.

“......

Garoth said slowly, his voice returning to steadiness: “I overreacted. If she represents the Dominik Cluster, then let her come. Give her the chance to speak.”

Sorog nodded slightly from the other end.

“Good. I will convey your willingness to her.”

He paused, his tone turning grave as he added, “However, I suggest that while we hold the meeting, the tribe’s other great dragons and lords should prepare for war in advance.”

If talks go poorly or negotiations break down,

the Molten Iron Tribe must be ready to respond with the strongest force at once and seize the initiative.

During this time, although the Molten Iron Tribe has steadily developed in the northwest—focusing on consuming resources and building strength—this does not mean they shy from war.

On the contrary, they remain ever ready to use flame and war to defend their interests and dignity.

“Agreed. Prepare both options.”

Garoth replied.

After the brief bloodline conversation, he ended the communication.

The red iron dragon stood in the valley as dusk gathered, watching the distant wind and snow with a moment of silence, then stretched and resumed his training posture.

No matter how the outer world’s clouds shift,

increasing one’s strength is always the most important foundation for facing any challenge.

The blue dragon clusters are known for calm order, unlike other evil dragons—let them be reasonable, or I won’t hesitate to let them taste my fury.

Garoth calmed his spirit and continued his training.