Chapter 211: Chapter 200: Wild Monster Lord, Time Waits for No One

“Resource scarcity should still be secondary.”

“The Border Area is close to the Eternal Frost Tundra, where the Frost Giants and Barbarians with power comparable to a kingdom reside in the Icefield. They do not allow federal legions with established formations to be stationed in the Border Area.”

Galos pondered in his heart.

He set aside his scattered thoughts, looked at Iron Dragon Solrog, and said, “The comprehensive level of the four tribes may be slightly higher than ours, but not by much, and they are more focused on each other, who have occupied the Border Area for many years, mutually restraining and balancing each other.”

The Iron Dragon nodded in agreement, “I think so too.”

“The urgent task of the Molten Iron Tribe is not to wage war with the four tribes, but to first fully integrate the resources of the Southwest, consolidating the current territory. We have developed too quickly.”

He looked at Galos and said, “There are a few powerful Wild Monster Lords in the Southwest, and I’m not confident about defeating them.”

“It’s too costly to use the lives of followers to fight them, so they have been left unattended.”

“They occupy a few of the more fertile pieces of territory, which are also the last missing pieces of the Southwest puzzle. Now that you have awakened, it is time to use your newfound strength to reclaim these territories.”

Wild Monster Lords refers to powerful beasts and monsters with limited intelligence, having no followers and not understanding management, relying mainly on their strong individual power to occupy one area.

For particularly powerful Wild Monster Lords, the four tribes also do not rashly provoke them.

The Red Iron Dragon shook its sturdy yet agile neck and grinned, “I’ve long said that the harshest battles will be my responsibility; my wings will protect the entire Molten Iron Tribe, including you.”

“The Wild Monster Lords you can’t handle, I’ll take on.”

Crackling—he stretched his wings and spine, with the scales on his body rubbing against each other, making a crisp sound like metal clashing.

The power growth brought by ten years of sleep requires him to first adapt to it, otherwise uncontrollable power could sometimes become a latent hazard.

Sword-blade-like Dragon Tail and wings.

Brand new Cold Burst Scales.

Level 3 Dragon Qi.

……..Galos needed to become more familiar with these, forming new combat methods around them.

Iron Dragon informed Galos of the nest locations and other specific details of several Wild Monster Lords, then said, “The Golden Tooth Tribe intends to block our trade routes; we cannot sit by and do nothing.”

He gave a cold laugh.

“A trade war? Our ancestors, who once established a powerful Dragon Kingdom, left behind quite a bit of legacy in this regard. Just right, I can put it into practice and test this legacy knowledge.”

He was eager to try.

The conflict with the Golden Tooth Tribe was handled by the Iron Dragon.

Galos played to his strengths—combat.

With his wisdom, he could actually think of ways to deal with the Golden Tooth Tribe instead of Solrog, and he could do it better.

But for things involving mental exertion, Galos, after all, possessed the bloodline of a Red Dragon, and if given a choice, he actually preferred the straightforward method of solving problems with power.

All along.

When his power was sufficient to deal with the target, Galos, after deep contemplation, would always find that his wisdom told him using power to solve problems was the most efficient.

And indeed, that’s how he did it.

Using wisdom to harness power, using rationality to restrain desires.

Cutting through thorns and thistles.

The Wild Monster Lords of the Southwest were thorns embedded within the territory of the Molten Iron Tribe.

Unlike other Red Dragons, Galos was relatively cautious.

He didn’t plan to act immediately but instead prepared to wait for the Cold Burst Scales to grow, at peak condition, to gradually eliminate them one by one.

“Dragon Lord, Jackal-wolfman Hodgson seeks an audience.”

A Violent Bear Guard approached, said in a rough voice.

Since the young dragons had all finished their slumber, the Violent Bears no longer guarded the sleeping grounds and had officially taken on the role of guards.

“Let him come in.”

The Red Iron Dragon nodded slightly.

A few minutes later, an old Jackal-Wolf Folk, whose fur had mottled and fallen, revealing wrinkled skin beneath, came into Galos’ view.

He walked with a hunched back, his eyes muddy, his claws and teeth no longer sharp, with a missing left arm severed at the root.

He staggered with trembling steps to stand before Galos, then laboriously bowed and knelt.

At first glance, his appearance made Galos feel a bit unfamiliar.

If the Violent Bear Guard hadn’t mentioned his name beforehand, Galos would have found it difficult to recognize the identity of the Jackal-Wolf before him at first sight.

“Dragon Lord, your scales still shine, I praise you.”

The Jackal-Wolf spoke with a gasping breath, wagging his tail.

His voice was raspier than before but still bore a familiar tone and a familiar ingratiating and fawning flavor.

“Hodgson, you’ve aged.”

The Red Iron Dragon said.

“My Lord, time is the most terrible enemy. It has no claws or fangs, but has left countless scars on me. Only a noble being like you can conquer it.”

The Jackal-Wolf Folk spoke in a husky voice.

Ten years is just a blink for long-lived species, but when it flows through the bodies of short-lived species, it carries the weight of a mountain.

The lifespan of an ordinary Jackal-Wolf Folk is merely over thirty years.

When Galos entered adolescence, the first group of Jackal-Wolf Folk who followed him was almost gone; even the once spirited ’Bloodtooth Commander’ is now old, with one foot in the grave.

“Hodgson, what do you seek in this audience?”

Galos asked directly.

The Jackal-Wolf Folk’s cloudy eyes still sparkled with familiar cunning and wit, saying, “My lord, it is my fortune to behold your glory once more before my death, now that you have awakened.”

Galos smiled faintly.

“Is there anything else?”

He asked.

The little cunning of the Jackal-Wolf Folk was laid bare before him.

Hodgson wagged his tail and laughed obsequiously, saying, “No, no.”

After a pause, he added, “Since leading the Iron Will to besiege the Wild Monster Lord a few years ago, losing my arm and nearly dying, barely surviving, my body has only deteriorated over time. Now I just hope to see you one last time before I die and tell you personally that the greatest honor of my life was fighting for you.”

The Red Iron Dragon nodded:

“If so, now you have seen me, you may go back.”

The Jackal-Wolf Folk’s smile stiffened slightly, then he slowly turned around, almost turning his head every few steps, his pace as slow as a snail.

“Stop, come here.”

Seconds later, a deep Dragon Language came from behind.

The words were so melodious, they temporarily brightened the ear like immortal music.

Like in his youth, the Jackal-Wolf Folk swiftly turned around, his face full of an ingratiating smile.

Galos spoke straightforwardly, “You have followed me early on, becoming an elder of the Molten Iron Tribe and achieving great deeds. As a reward, I will bestow Dragon Blood upon you, granting you the opportunity for new life.”

“This is your due.”

The Dragon Blood left from fierce battles was not wasted by Galos, stored cold in the Dragon Valley’s cellar, used for the Dragon Vein Transformation, and there’s plenty left.

The Red Iron Dragon leaned forward slightly, saying, “Hodgson, exhaust all you have, then live and continue fighting for me.”

“This is an order, heard?”

The Jackal-Wolf Folk dropped his ingratiating smile and straightened his hunched back, showing dignity.

“Yes, my lord!”

He replied solemnly.

Not long after.

Dragon Blood was transported from the cellar.

Galos, proficiently, began the transformation ritual, concentrating Dragon Blood into a scorching blood bead.

The Jackal-Wolfman Hodgson gritted his teeth and swallowed the blood bead whole.

In an instant, flames ignited on his body.

The horrific pain, as if occurring both physically and spiritually from inside out, forced the Jackal-Wolf Folk to bend down, repeatedly clawing and tearing at the ground, uttering a piercing howl.

His flesh proliferated, ripping through skin and hair.

His body continually expanded, consumed by flames to ashes.

His movements gradually diminished, his howls weakening—half an hour later, the Jackal-Wolf Folk was no more, leaving only ashes.

Ultimately, Jackal-wolfman Hodgson failed to fulfill the command.

Dragon Vein Transformation requires iron-willed resolve.

From the start, Hodgson lacked the courage to face death bravely; during battles, he stayed at the back, ’shielding’ warriors in front, using commander skills to strengthen them.

This allowed him to survive repeatedly in fierce battles.

But it couldn’t give him new life.

The Red Iron Dragon gently shook his head.

He waved his Dragon Wings, stirring a gale, blowing ashes into the vast sky.

Time’s mercilessness.

The Dragon Race are long-lived species, surviving through the long years, yet unless they achieve immortality, even their lives will ultimately end, as powerful as the Twenty-Four-Winged Golden Dragon, now aged, possibly dying at any moment.

“Eternal life, immortality… can I achieve it?”

Galos’s heart surged darkly, questioning silently.

“I definitely can!”

The answer was firm, striking.

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