Inside the Howling Moon Clan.
Garros summoned the chief, Russell, and informed him about the Purple Copper Mine, placing him in charge of its excavation. He then instructed him to begin preparations for contacting Nicks Caravan to rebuild their trade channels, along with many other directives.
The next wave of trade would include items other than black oil.
Garros allowed his vassals to seek profit for themselves, provided it did not interfere with his acquisition of black oil.
This would stimulate the enthusiasm of his vassals; they followed Garros for a better life and a brighter future, and Garros was not an Evil Dragon. As long as they performed well, he would grant them opportunities.
Furthermore...
If he only requested black oil, his behavior would appear abnormal.
There were many large-scale Black Oil Fields on Planet Bernardo, so its reserves were quite abundant. However, this did not mean that black oil was a resource that could be obtained casually, nor did it mean that anyone could utilize it.
No nation would ever complain about having too much black oil.
It was primarily used to power large Alchemical Items like Alchemy Golems. As a strategic material, it was subject to a certain degree of regulation.
Although there were official channels for purchase, they were all limited in quantity.
Traveling merchants in the Serel Wilderness...
They often conducted private transactions with the local oil field garrisons, transporting the black oil to the Southern Kingdoms, and then rerouting it to small countries that needed black oil but lacked sufficient domestic resources.
Buying black oil from the Southern Kingdoms and then transporting it back into the Serel Wilderness...
This kind of behavior was somewhat strange.
Why would a monster clan in the wilderness specifically crave black oil? And why in such large, continuous quantities? If this were noticed by observant individuals, it would most likely invite unnecessary trouble.
"Dragon Lord, please take this."
Russell offered up a Communication Stone.
"This is something the caravan brought last time."
"Through this, you can issue commands to us remotely when it is inconvenient for you to come here."
He added a thoughtful, though unnecessary, explanation for Garros.
"Next time, have the caravan bring more Communication Stones."
Garros took the Communication Stone and said.
Flapping his wings, he picked up the barrels of black oil packed in Iron Vine Nets, preparing to take flight.
Just then, Frostfang returned. Seeing his daughter approach, Russell thought of the records of Dragon habits in the clan's ancient texts. He hesitated for a moment and then shouted to Garros, "Wait, Dragon Lord, please wait a moment."
Garros looked down at Russell.
"Is there something else?"
Russell pulled Frostfang to his side and, under Garros's puzzled gaze, whispered, "Noble Dragon Lord, to celebrate your return, Frostfang will offer her first night to serve you."
"If she cannot satisfy you, all the young werewolves in the Howling Moon Clan are at your disposal."
Garros's eyes widened.
As a Young Dragon, he didn't quite understand Russell's current train of thought.
Frostfang stood obediently by her father's side, showing no anger or dissatisfaction; instead, there was a hint of expectation in her eyes.
Garros fixed his gaze on this young Female Werewolf.
Her fur was lustrous, her teeth were white, and her eyes were bright and clear. Her erect ears were covered in fine fuzz, her tail and limbs were long, and her body proportions were just right; she was a beautiful Female Werewolf.
Dragons possess eyes that can discover the beauty in all things.
Garros naturally appreciated Frostfang's beauty.
But he still didn't understand why Russell had suddenly said such a thing.
"Did I unintentionally show a lustful side?"
Garros thought back carefully but couldn't recall acting that way, so he directly asked Russell why he had such an idea.
Russell stammered and finally, under Garros's gaze, said with some hesitation, "Our clan's ancient records state that male Dragon Lords will demand the Right of the First Night from the females of their vassals."
"To increase your regard and favor for the Howling Moon Clan, I thought I would offer it to you proactively before you even asked."
Garros fell silent.
He really couldn't blame Russell for having such a skewed idea.
Because the records in their clan texts were correct.
Evil Dragon lords, such as Red Dragons, did indeed enjoy doing this—promiscuity, indulgence, directly breeding Dragon-kin offspring with their vassals, and then using those Dragon-kin as their core guards.
As for reproductive isolation...
That did not exist for a Dragon.
The Dragon Bloodline was powerful and domineering; they could produce Dragon-kin by mating with almost any creature.
However...
Usually, it was only when a Dragon reached the young adult stage or older that certain desires began to sprout, leading to such thoughts.
At the very least, fourteen-year-old Garros had no interest in this for now, even though his well-exercised young dragon was already far stronger than that of a normal young adult dragon.
And even if he were interested...
Garros, who had not yet mastered Polymorph, could not actually do anything given the massive size difference between them.
Polymorph was a Spell that all Dragons would eventually master, typically Awakening during their young adult stage.
Metallic Dragons, especially Gold and Silver Dragons, enjoyed using Polymorph to mingle with other intelligent races and play among mortals, whereas Evil Dragons used Polymorph mostly for indulgence.
Frostfang said hesitantly, "Great Dragon Lord, I serve you willingly."
Mating with a Dragon to produce Dragon-kin werewolves...
This was a good thing for the Howling Moon Clan, as it would tighten their bond with Garros.
Furthermore, Frostfang herself admired Garros's immense power.
That draconic body, full of the aesthetic of power—majestic, strong, and ferociously towering—would not only attract other Dragons but also made Frostfang feel a cross-species admiration for him.
"We can discuss this another time."
Garros did not agree, nor did he directly refuse.
Leaving those words behind, he soared into the air.
"Father, do you think the Dragon Lord will agree?"
Frostfang blinked and asked Russell.
"He will, he will."
Russell whispered, "The Dragon Lord has at least half Red Dragon Bloodline, and the clan records say male Red Dragons are extremely lustful."
The swept-back, towering dragon horns.
The faint scent of sulfur and flames clinging to his body.
The powerful physique.
The thick tusks protruding from his upper and lower jaws.
The dense and sharp spines.
These were all characteristics of a Red Dragon. Although Russell did not know the specifics of a Secondary-class Dragon like the Iron Dragon, he still had some understanding of famous Dragons like the Red Dragon; he could see that Garros possessed Red Dragon Bloodline.
It was said...
That human armies were most reluctant to crusade against a male Red Dragon Lord.
On one hand, it was because Red Dragons themselves were powerful.
On the other hand, male Red Dragons were not at all picky; they were in heat almost anytime and anywhere, and their fertility was extremely high, resulting in a large number of Dragon-kin offspring under their command.
"I want to give birth to a litter of little wolf pups with dragon scales."
Frostfang said longingly.
Following that, time slowly passed with the alternation of the sun and moon over the wilderness.
Garros put the minor episode with the Howling Moon Clan out of his mind and didn't pay it much heed. He later descended upon the Red-Eye Clan at the Crying Cliff once more to consolidate the Gnolls' loyalty to him.
No accidents occurred during this period.
The Bloodtooth Overseer's rule over his clan was very stable; the six years had not aged him, and he was in his prime.
It was worth mentioning...
A Gnoll Warlock had been born in the Red-Eye Clan; it was the Gnoll Sentry who had been directly scared unconscious the first time he saw Garros.
At that time, Garros had felt that this sentry's perception was quite outstanding.
It was not entirely unexpected that he could awaken the power in his blood to become a warlock.
In the monster clans of the wilderness, as long as they reached a certain scale, there would likely be a warlock, Shaman, or Priest among them. This seemed to be some sort of survival mechanism formed during the species' evolutionary process.
Then there were the Lizardfolk of the Ripped-Claw Clan.
They had suffered the most in the battles against the Ogres. Seeing a Dragon willing to offer protection, they were so eager they practically wanted to kiss Garros's toes, choosing to pledge their loyalty to him on the spot.
The four clans of the Scale-Earth Rift Road...
Garros had unified them all under his command. However, he did not have them live together, only issuing some rules to prevent overly intense conflicts and to ensure they ambushed and plundered the trade route in a more methodical and sustainable manner.
Regrettably...
Because the Ogre clans had plundered so frequently and without restraint over those six years, almost no caravans passed through the Scale-Earth Rift Road now. If any did, they were exceptionally large caravans escorted by garrison troops.
But this was only temporary.
Garros had already had the werewolves contact Nicks, asking him to spread the news that the Scale-Earth Rift Road was becoming safe and calm again, and to lead by example by traveling through it himself.
When Nicks returned fully loaded next time...
It would surely stimulate the greed of other merchants once again.
With several clans under his control...
Garros's days gradually became peaceful and stable.
With the reserves of black oil, the efficiency of his daily training became even higher. He took some time to try using black oil and fairy scale powder simultaneously.
The result was just as he had surmised.
By using the fairy scale powder to enhance his mental reactions, he could master the extreme speed boosted by the black oil for a short period.
When combined with the Blood Burst Technique attached to his Tail Ring...
In a state of full eruption, Garros's overall combat power would rise to a brand-new level of intensity.
Garros did not lose himself in the improvements brought by external items; he knew well that these were trump cards that could not be used casually. Only strengthening his foundation was the most critical thing.
The Broken Spine Hills under the cover of night.
Zzzzt! Zzzzt!
Garros stood silently in the center of several warlocks, letting the Ogre Warlocks use their Chain Lightning skills to attack him.
With dense arcs of electricity coiling around his body...
Garros felt a tingling sensation all over. Currents of electricity constantly pulsed through the muscles beneath his scales, causing them to swell and contract under the stimulation; the feeling became clearer and clearer.
Moreover, while being electrocuted, some arcs of electricity escaped from the gaps between his scales.
Dense, rich, and bright.
Like a mane woven from lightning.
Garros had a strong premonition.
His next evolution might be related to lightning.
It just so happened that Ogre Warlocks could use Chain Lightning, and the effect of a direct attack was better than the enchanted attack from the lightning tail ring. Thus, he frequently used this for training to increase his lightning resistance and look forward to the next evolution.
Soon...
The several warlocks, having exhausted their Demonic Energy, went limp all over and were carried away by Ogre Warriors.
Garros still felt unsatisfied and called for the Gluttonous Ogre, who was currently eating, to stop.
"Karu, come over here and spar with me for a bit."
He had the Gluttonous Ogre put the lightning tail ring on its arm and train with him for a while longer.
A few minutes later...
Garros's training was not yet over.
An Ogre sentry suddenly rushed over in a great hurry.
"Reporting to the Dragon Lord, a Stone Giant has arrived at the outskirts of the Bone-Chewing Clan and wishes to meet the leader."
The sentry whispered.
A Stone Giant? Where did it come from?
Garros's gaze sharpened.
"Karu, prepare to receive it. Inquire about its purpose and origin, and do not reveal my presence."
Garros did not take flight; he crouched along the ridge of the hills in a hard-to-detect hollow on the slope, spreading his wings and masking his presence. He almost merged with the night, with only a pair of dark, deep eyes quietly watching the Bone-Chewing Clan's territory below.