A majestic figure leaped directly across the river channel, crushing an unlucky Gnoll flat underfoot.
"A Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon?!"
Sorog's heart tightened.
He was unsure of the Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon's origin and could not figure out its relationship with the Stone Giants in such a short time.
However, this didn't stop Sorog from realizing that this fellow was the leader of the Ogres.
Meanwhile, the Ogres caught the Kobolds who had been harassing them from underwater, tore them apart, and crossed the blood-stained river. Braving the Gnolls' poisoned arrows, they reached the opposite bank.
In the face of such a massive gap in strength.
The orders issued by the Iron Dragon had some effect, but that was all.
"Retreat!"
Sorog made a prompt decision and ordered the abandonment of the beachhead.
He didn't engage in a direct struggle with the Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon himself. Instead, he led his followers in a retreat—not in a straight line back, but along the river channel towards the downstream direction, using Dragon Breath to interfere with and obstruct the Gluttonous Ogre and the Ogre Warlocks.
A minute later.
Thud!
An Ogre vanguard stepped onto the ground, and more than half of his lower leg sank in.
Unknowingly, the Ogres had been lured into a soft, sandy area. Their heavy, towering bodies now became a burden; with every step, they sank deep into the silt and had to exert great effort just to pull their legs out.
The Gnolls could move across such ground as if it were level, and the Kobolds could even tunnel directly into the sand to move quickly.
"Stop! Counterattack!"
Sorog issued the command concisely.
The Gnoll warriors under his command surrounded the Ogres on the sandy beach, harassing them with poisoned arrows, javelins, and spears. Taking advantage of their speed and agility, they began to strike back at the Ogres mired in the sand.
Watching the Ogres struggle miserably as they trudged through the silt.
A cold sneer appeared on Iron Dragon Sorog's face, an illusion of victory burning in his dragon pupils.
He gazed toward the Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon.
Most of the target's body was submerged in the sand. Although he could break free using his savage strength, he was still affected, and his speed had slowed significantly.
"Mere Ogres dare to oppose the great Iron King."
Sorog thought to himself.
His original intention was to retreat and avoid their initial momentum.
But after gaining a certain advantage, the idea of wiping out this Ogre unit began to take root.
Giants and Dragonkin were both renowned as powerful creatures.
But Ogres were not worth mentioning; even a Gluttonous Ogre was not worthy of his fear.
Sorog felt that being forced to retreat by Ogres would be the ultimate disgrace. The great Iron King would bury all these offending Ogres in the mire.
The Iron Dragon folded his wings and lunged at Karu like a sharp arrow.
His dragon claws aimed for the Gluttonous Ogre's neck.
At the very instant his claws were about to touch the target, the Iron Dragon suddenly veered, avoiding the dangerous front and tearing open the Gluttonous Ogre's shoulder from the side, sending hot blood splashing.
The first strike was a probe.
Sorog remained cautious.
He locked onto the Gluttonous Ogre and continued his probing attacks. Claws, teeth, and Dragon Breath left one wound after another on the demon's body, while Sorog dodged all of the Gluttonous Ogre's counterattacks.
"Dull reactions and foolish, too. His attacks are straightforward and lack flexibility."
The Gluttonous Ogre's performance matched the inherent impression recorded in the Legacy perfectly.
Arrogance grew bit by bit in Sorog's heart. To achieve results as quickly as possible, his attacks became more expansive, and his defenses weakened.
Whoosh!
The Iron Dragon spread his wings, his steel-like body diving toward the Gluttonous Ogre once more.
This time, his claws aimed for the Gluttonous Ogre's neck again, and it was no probe; the speed was faster than any of his previous lunges.
However.
At the very moment his claws were about to reach the target.
The Gluttonous Ogre grinned and let out a loud laugh.
His spiked club swung upward from an incredible angle, fierce and ferocious, slamming heavily into Sorog's chest and abdomen. The diamond-tipped spikes tore through the scales, carving out a hideous wound.
Heaviness and sharp pain radiated from below.
The Iron Dragon was sent flying, his body—over ten meters long—tumbling across the sand and plowing a long trench.
Even worse.
As Sorog stood up and just as he flapped his wings, the Twin-headed Warlock's spell was completed. An acid ray and a freezing ray landed precisely on the Iron Dragon's wings, as if planned long ago.
The acid corroded the wing membranes, while frost condensed into brittle ice crystals at the joints.
Sorog stumbled, trying to take to the sky again.
The Gluttonous Ogre, having broken free from the sand, smashed into him like a cannonball.
Bang! The spiked club struck the Iron Dragon's hard head squarely, smashing him into the sand.
As the Gluttonous Ogre sought to press his advantage, the Iron Dragon twisted his body frantically, letting out a roar as his sharp claws swept across the demon's arm, leaving deep gashes.
Lowering his blood-stained head, he slammed fiercely into the Gluttonous Ogre, ramming him across the sandy ground. The hard Iron Dragon horns tore through the scales on the Gluttonous Ogre's chest, leaving it a bloody mess.
But in the end, it was all in vain.
The vitality of a Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon was no weaker than that of a Dragonkin.
Karu withstood the Iron Dragon head-on. Combined with the concentrated attacks from the warlocks, the situation quickly reversed. More Ogre Warriors swarmed forward, ignoring the harassment from the Gnolls and Kobolds, and surrounded Sorog.
After some time.
Sorog fell under the Ogres' onslaught, exhausted and bound by Alchemical Chains wrapped around his body.
The Gnolls and Kobolds scattered in flight but were also captured one after another.
"Hey, Iron Dragon, submit to the great Lord of the Crimson Wings."
After the battle ended, Karu leaned on his spiked club for support and stood before the battered Iron Dragon, speaking.
He had been the main force in besieging the Young Dragon and the target of the most counterattacks. Facing the Young Iron Dragon's frantic retaliation, the Dragon-vein Gluttony Demon had ultimately paid the price of being heavily wounded to successfully take him down.
Sorog was somewhat dazed.
This sounded like a title for a Dragonkin, not a Stone Giant.
"Aren't you followers of the Stone Giants?"
Sorog felt something was wrong and asked while struggling.
"Stone Giants? Oh, you mean the Stone Giants of the Quenchfire Highlands. They've already been wiped out by the great Lord of the Crimson Wings."
Knowing that the Dragon Lord was watching the battlefield from the sky, Ugo chimed in with praise: "The great Lord of the Crimson Wings is the Ominous Star representing death, the Crimson Heavenly Punishment, and the Supreme Dragon King who will rule the wilderness in the future!"
"Submit to the Lord of the Crimson Wings and swear your loyalty. This is your only chance to live."
The Iron Dragon fell silent.
He hadn't expected these Ogres to be followers of a Dragonkin, nor that the Lord of the Crimson Wings they spoke of had actually destroyed the Stone Giant camp.
"Is your Lord of the Crimson Wings a Red Dragon?"
Sorog asked again.
Suddenly.
Before the Ogres could answer, a boom echoed from high above.
Sorog instinctively raised his dragon head and saw a crimson comet tear through the clouds, descending from the heavens.
No,
it wasn't a crimson comet.
At this distance, he could clearly see that it was a Dragon, trailing dark red ethereal flames behind its wings that flickered like a long cometary tail!
The Lord of the Crimson Wings descended at high speed.
The Ogres tactfully cleared a space.
Boom! Just as it was about to slam into the ground, the great Dragon swept its wings, whipping up a gale and a shockwave, yet its body came to a steady halt, landing right in front of Iron Dragon Sorog.
Sorog stared blankly, sizing up this Lord of the Crimson Wings.
He was twelve meters long, not much different from Sorog, but overall he appeared several sizes larger. Those massive, exaggerated, and specially structured wings, thick dragon scales, long and thick tail, and the muscle contours visible even through the scales combined to form an unimaginable physique.
At first glance,
he looked like a Red Dragon clad in heavy armor, matchless in strength.
Strangely, Sorog felt a hint of a familiar aura from him.
But given the current crisis, he had no time to investigate the source of that familiarity.
"Powerful Lord of the Crimson Wings."
Sorog lowered his head, avoiding direct eye contact, and said in a low voice, "If I have inadvertently offended you, I am willing to pay the price of my territory and followers. Please forgive me."
Between dragons,
the loser yields to the winner and pays a price to avoid death.
Unless there is deep-seated hatred, battles between Dragonkin rarely end in death. The purpose of combat is usually to teach a lesson or enslave the opponent; the winner will demand loyalty and service for a period, or a ransom sufficient to satisfy them.
If it were a giant enemy,
Sorog would rather die than surrender.
But as a fellow Dragonkin, bowing his head was not unacceptable. The worst outcome would simply be submitting and serving the other for a time.
After speaking, Sorog waited for the other's response.
A few seconds later.
He heard a voice that had changed somewhat but was still familiar.
"Raise your head and look at me closely."
The Iron Dragon's eyes widened in shock as he looked up.
The dragon face covered in spines and fine scales was unfamiliar.
But those pitch-black eyes, that look as if he were staring at an idiot, and the features formed by the mix of Red and Iron blood made the Iron Dragon feel increasingly familiar.
It couldn't be...
It couldn't be!
A guess faintly emerged in his heart, yet it felt so inconceivable that he was unwilling to believe it.
"Oh, Sorog, my foolish, pitiful, and weak brother."
"So it's you. My apologies, I thought you were some other dragon, so my followers were a bit heavy-handed."
Garros looked down at the Iron Dragon and tilted his head. After expressing his apology, he asked in confusion, "Where are those wings of yours that 'blot out the sun'? I don't see them."