Chapter 133: Chapter 130: Legendary Ambition, the Terrifying Elder Dragon

The average human can live for two to three hundred years and with certain conditions, using various benevolent or malevolent life-extending methods, they might reach five to six hundred years, but their strength diminishes with age.

Contrast that with the Dragon Race.

Once becoming Legendary.

The already long lifespan of the Dragon Race would increase by at least a thousand years, maintaining their peak forever afterward, and the most powerful moment of a Legendary aging dragon is when no one dares provoke them.

Nowadays, the major empires treat the Metal Dragon Race with great respect, and refrain from excessive extermination of Evil Dragons, largely due to their fear of the aging state of the Twenty-Four-Winged Golden Dragon.

Aging yet still the strongest, on the brink of death with peak physical abilities.

These terrifying buffs are almost fully stacked.

An aging Golden Dragon, even without attacking, can strike fear in nations just by hovering in their airspace, for fear of being dragged into mutual destruction by this Ancient Dragon.

“Legendary is the true power.”

“In the eyes of Legendary Life, battles below Legendary seem like sparring between chickens, mere child’s play.”

Galos set a goal for himself: “To become Legendary within five hundred years.”

This goal isn’t high; one might even say it’s low.

It’s like the Golden Dragon Galos likes to compare himself to. For a Golden Dragon, becoming Legendary by five hundred years is challenging but not extremely difficult. Outstanding individual Golden Dragons can generally achieve it within five hundred years.

Galos doesn’t like setting overly high, unrealistic goals.

He prefers to set lower targets.

This way, achieving them earlier gives him a sense of accomplishment.

If he set a century-long Legendary goal and failed to achieve it, disappointment wouldn’t be overwhelming, but there would inevitably be a slight sense of loss.

Galos took a deep breath, golden lightning within him surged, entering an exhilarating state.

In this state, even lying still stimulates and exercises the body.

He calmly coiled amidst the storm, silently savoring the sting of lightning on muscles, continuing to listen to the conversation between Frost Fang and Nick.

Here it must be mentioned.

The Elder Shaman of the Gray-haired Werewolf Tribe died naturally two years ago.

After the werewolves held a farewell funeral for him, Frost Fang inherited his will, standing in his place to continue serving Galos.

Nick finished sharing what he knew about the Eternal Frost Tundra, then took out waterproof paper and pen, noting Frost Fang’s needs one by one, checking several times to ensure nothing was missed before carefully storing them away.

After setting the time for the next trade.

The trader’s Giant slaves began loading the goods onto the carts.

Nick stood in the tent watching this scene, while Frost Fang led his people to leave.

As they reached the tent entrance, Nick suddenly spoke: “Wait a moment.”

The Werewolf Mage paused, turning to look at Nick.

“What else?”

He asked.

Nick’s smile remained unchanged, and he whispered: “At the next trade, I wish to meet the great one, to express my loyalty and reverence. The great one made me feel reborn, and I am deeply grateful.”

The “great one” he referred to was evidently the obscure lord of the Molten Iron Clan.

Of course, Nick didn’t know the name Molten Iron Clan.

Their trade only happened on the trading path; Nick’s understanding of the Molten Iron Clan was slightly more than other traders, aware that the creatures of the Scale Earth Rift were loyal to the same lord but unaware that the Monster Race had unified.

Upon hearing Nick’s words.

Frost Fang’s gaze suddenly changed, becoming cold and dangerous.

Over the years, many merchants sought to probe Galos’s identity, yet they all vanished quietly, primarily handled by Frost Fang.

However, Nick was different from those merchants.

Frost Fang suppressed his murderous intent and said slowly: “I’m not in a position to decide this, but I can petition on your behalf, and once there’s any result, I’ll inform you through the Communication Stone.”

Nick nodded hastily, showing a flattering smile.

“Thank you, thank you.”

He produced a Magic Gemstone, placing it into Frost Fang’s claw, whispering: “This is a small token of my appreciation, please accept it.”

Frost Fang took the gemstone, then gradually vanished into the rain with his tribe.

After a brief reorganization, the convoy began moving again, gradually disappearing down the Scale Earth Rift.

Ten minutes later, Iron Dragon Solrog descended from the sky, its mighty wings shielding from the wind and rain, landing before the werewolves who hadn’t yet returned to their territory.

It had been watching all along, just in case.

“Noble King of Iron, please accept this gemstone.”

Frost Fang offered the still-warm gemstone, and the Iron Dragon took it without hesitation.

“Will the Dragon Lord agree to meet next time?”

Frost Fang asked.

The Iron Dragon gazed toward the trade route, its look somber in the rain, saying: “Not necessarily, but if not, we’ll terminate the trade with this convoy and find a new one that’s easier to manipulate.”

Frost Fang knew how to terminate it.

He nodded heavily.

Fine rain persisted, showing no signs of stopping.

Iron Dragon Solrog returned to Needleleaf Valley, folding its wings to shake off rainwater, speaking to Galos: “Do you intend to meet that human?”

Galos nodded casually, sparing Nick from a fatal fate.

“Let him meet.” Galos’s tail tip swept across the ground, leaving a furrow: “The decade-long trial has proven he’s wise in balancing interest and loyalty.”

“Moreover, times have changed, and he can learn how magnificent and grand his allegiance truly is.”

Galos exaggerated with self-praise, speaking.

The Iron Dragon wanted to caution Galos against arrogance, but catching a glimpse of Galos’s formidable physique, its eyelid twitched, saying nothing further.

Galos spoke truthfully.

This wasn’t about arrogance or overconfidence.

After browsing through his Dragon’s Legacy, the Iron Dragon couldn’t find another dragon as robust as Galos at the same age.

This time, the Iron Dragon thought for a moment then suggested: “I wish to establish some taverns around the trade route, selecting clever individuals from the followers to operate them.”

Galos’s eyes flickered slightly.

“You’re suggesting, using these taverns to gather intelligence?”

The Iron Dragon nodded, saying: “Being situated in the wilderness, we’re information-deprived and backward. We shouldn’t wait until there’s a need or problem to try to gather intelligence. We require better eyes and ears.”

After a pause, the Iron Dragon added: “Additionally, I wish to step from the shadows to the forefront.”

It seriously addressed Galos: “You and Samantha remain behind the scenes, while I shall stand out, attracting more Wilderness Clans to our loyalty under the guise of the Dragon Race, thus fostering rapid growth for the Molten Iron Clan.”

Upon hearing this, Galos shook his head.

“Now isn’t the right time.”

He said.

Whether setting up taverns or the Iron Dragon stepping forward.

It was too ostentatious, essentially pushing the Molten Iron Clan into the open.

While the Iron Dragon was exemplary in managing the territory and followers, it sometimes got impulsive, unable to conceal its ambitions, and had some inherent dragon traits; the true decision-maker for the future, the path, remained Galos.

“Why?”

The Iron Dragon seemed puzzled, asking.

Galos didn’t answer directly but instead asked: “Solrog, who do you think the Scale Earth Rift belongs to?”

“Of course it’s ours, it belongs to the Molten Iron Clan.”

The Iron Dragon answered naturally.

“No, it belongs to the Lothern Federation, you must understand this.”

Galos gazed southward, speaking slowly: “The extensive Thousand Snake Mark trade route spanning the Sel Wilderness, whether trunk or branch, was entirely developed and created by the Lothern Federation, with powerful garrison forces overseeing.”

“We can engage in normal trade on the route with caravans, even being acknowledged as the dominant power of this branch route poses no issue.”

“But the premise is that we must not stand publicly, not display ourselves, not flamboyantly claim dominance over the Scale Earth Rift.”

Galos maintained a serene expression, continuing: “Do you think the Lothern Federation’s trade route guards tolerate monsters on the trade route?”

“Exactly because we clung like lichens to rock crevices, neither conspicuous enough to warrant removal nor lacked operational value.”

“But should the lichens suddenly wish to become towering trees…”

Galos didn’t continue, but the implication was clear.

The Iron Dragon fell silent.

Yet internally, it still harbored some unwillingness.

“When can we finally stand without disguise, upon the wilderness’s stage, atop the world’s stage?” It asked.

The Red Iron Dragon across revealed a grin, saying: “Patience, my brother.”

“Don’t forget our identity; time will always be on our side.”

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