As the sun and moon alternated and the stars shifted, a period of time that was not particularly long slipped away quietly.
The Borderlands remained ruled by endless bitter cold and wind and snow; goose-feather-like snowflakes fell without rest, and the biting whistling sound was incessant.
But unlike the deathly silence of the past.
The Molten Iron Tribe's strongholds located throughout The Borderlands were currently presenting a scene that was both solemn and seething with excitement.
Countless vassals, whether they were the sturdy Ogres, the fierce Wolfman warriors, the lithe Centaur knights, or those countless Gnolls, Kobolds, and Lizardfolk, all had taut expressions at this moment. Within that solemnity, they suppressed an indescribable excitement, like arrows about to be released from the bowstring.
They were long since fully armed; frost condensed on their cold armor, heavy weapons were gripped tightly in their claws or strapped to their backs, and their breath turned into streams of rapid white smoke in the bitter cold.
Like hidden currents lurking beneath the snowfield.
They emerged in an orderly fashion from different valleys, plains, and hills, and then, under the urging of their leaders, they marched through the deep snow, leaving winding footprints that were immediately covered by new wind and snow.
Finally.
The trickling streams converged into surging rivers, transforming into several massive, winding long dragons across the vast land covered in white snow.
Their goal was incomparably clear.
It was the Serel Wilderness, located to the south of The Borderlands, which had now fallen into chaos and war but was also filled with endless opportunities.
During the long years that Garros slept.
The Molten Iron Tribe, like a giant beast that had retracted its claws and was feigning sleep, strictly followed the orders of the Lord of the Crimson Wings, actively pulling back its edge and not engaging in large-scale expansion or conquest.
However.
In order to wear down the violence and bellicosity in the monsters' nature, and also to maintain combat effectiveness.
The training and brutal gladiatorial matches within the tribe became frequent and intense.
The vassals honed themselves and tempered their skills in the ice and snow day after day.
As time passed, their claws and teeth became incomparably sharp, and their fighting will became increasingly resilient, like an iron billet hammered repeatedly.
Only waiting for that command.
They would rush out of The Borderlands to fight in a broader world.
Therefore, following the command of the Lord of the Crimson Wings, the elite vassals of the Molten Iron Tribe distributed throughout The Borderlands were efficiently mobilized in a very short time, forming disciplined, murderous monster legions that, like a floodgate opening, marched unswervingly toward the wilderness.
As for this bitter and cold Borderlands, it was not completely abandoned.
It still contained rare mines that had not yet been fully mined, a Black Oil Field with considerable reserves, and the Black Iron Plain where a basic alchemical industrial system had been initially established... These precious resources and strategic pivot points were the cornerstone of the Molten Iron Tribe's future development and could not be easily abandoned.
Therefore.
The cold-loving Mature Adult Dragon Tereshi, all young dragons that had not yet entered the juvenile stage, the three surrendered Wild Monster Lords, the Grand Artificer Scott, the Snake-person Sword Saint Naris, and the Centaur Elvie...
These core members.
Along with a portion of the elite Vassal Legion, were still ordered to remain in The Borderlands, guarding this initial land where The Dragon Flight rose, and guarding their snowy homeland.
High above the sky, in the Domain where the wind and snow were thickest.
Garros's massive body circled slowly under the lead-gray clouds, and the snowflakes filling the sky were swirled and danced with every powerful beat of his wings.
The Red-Silver Dragon Deborah soared side by side with him, her beautiful scales glimmering with a faint light, still shining brilliantly.
"Deborah, have your parents sent back any news recently? For example, when will they be able to return to The Borderlands?"
Garros's voice pierced through the whistling of the wind and snow, asking steadily.
The Red-Silver Dragon tilted her head slightly, shaking it gently, her slender neck tracing an elegant arc.
"Father only sent one secret message in the interim, simply telling me that the world is currently turbulent, and that I should not rashly leave the still-safe Borderlands."
"But as for exactly when they might return, they did not mention it."
She pondered for a moment, her tone carrying a hint of uncertainty, and continued: "Metallic Dragons above the adult stage seem to be participating in some extremely important collective ritual, attempting to extend the life of the Gold Dragon King, but they were attacked by Winters End midway, and the ritual must have been affected and interfered with to some extent."
"As for exactly how long it will take to complete, whether it will succeed or fail, I am afraid no one can say for sure."
The Gold Dragon King she spoke of referred precisely to that powerful existence—the Twenty-Four Winged Golden Dragon.
Within the highly unified Metallic Dragon Race system, according to different Dragonkin branches, as well as their respective power and noble character, five supreme Dragon King leaders were jointly elected.
Gold Dragon King, Silver Dragon King, Bronze Dragon King, Copper Dragon King, Brass Dragon King.
Without exception, they were all Ancient Dragons who had lived for over a thousand years and possessed unfathomable power, and even among the Ancient Dragon population, these five Dragon Kings were undoubtedly the top existences.
Among them, the most powerful and prestigious was undoubtedly that Gold Dragon King.
Speaking of this, Deborah's mood clearly became somewhat annoyed and puzzled.
"Winters End... this White Dragon, why on earth did she suddenly go to attack the Dragon Domain?"
"Does she not understand that even if the Metallic Dragon and Chromatic Dragon factions do not get along and have many disputes with each other, they are ultimately both of the Dragon Clan? Once the Gold Dragon King falls, the overall power and deterrent force of the entire Dragon Clan will suffer an immeasurable weakening."
Ordinary White Dragons might have simple thinking and would not consider this level.
But an Ancient Dragon that can survive for a thousand years, even among White Dragons known for their stupidity, must possess profound wisdom and foresight.
Moreover.
Except for some extremely chaotic and evil individuals, Dragonkin that can reach the Ancient Dragon level basically all possess reason and long-term considerations that transcend instinct, and can well control their own desires and impulses.
Deborah really could not understand.
What exactly was the motive for Winters End Heatherfill to attack the Dragon Domain?
There has never been any rumor indicating that there existed any irreconcilable deep grudge between the Gold Dragon King and her.
"Perhaps she was instigated by the malice of certain existences, or perhaps there are some deep-seated reasons or transactions that far exceed what we can currently understand."
Garros thought calmly and said: "In short, if the description of [Winters End] in the dragon heritage is basically accurate, then it is absolutely impossible for her to have attacked the Dragon Domain on a whim."
"Behind this, there must be a reason that we do not yet know, but one of sufficient weight."
Winters End in the heritage records was described as—patient and cunning, extremely adept at playing with and manipulating emotions.
Patience and cunning; Garros thought this description might be valid. After all, these are not absolutely derogatory terms in themselves, and in survival and struggle, they are even an advantage.
But regarding the point of [extremely adept at playing with and manipulating emotions], Garros always held a trace of rational skepticism deep in his heart.
The dragon heritage is certainly a treasure trove of knowledge.
But it is also mixed with a large amount of prejudice, distorted perspectives brought about by factional opposition, and deeply ingrained subjective views. Many of the records within it cannot be fully trusted and must be scrutinized and judged by one's own reason.
Looking only at the events recorded in the heritage regarding the entanglement between Winters End and human Spellcasters.
If the protagonist of the story were replaced with a Metallic Dragon—such as a Silver Dragon or a Gold Dragon.
Then, the experience between her and that human Spellcaster would likely be celebrated as a romantic and poignant love story that crossed racial barriers, rather than being interpreted as a dark scheme full of premeditated plots and intrigues.
"In any case, I hope the Gold Dragon King can successfully survive this twilight tribulation and be reborn."
The Red-Silver Dragon prayed in a low voice.
As long as the Gold Dragon King can successfully step over this greatest threshold, the Metallic Dragon Race will have a pillar of support like a stabilizing sea needle, and their right to speak and status on the entire Planet Bernardo will rise to a higher level. And the improvement of the overall status of the Dragon Clan, to a certain extent, can also make the living environment of all Dragonkin, including the Chromatic Dragons, slightly better.
But.
Among all the many known planes and worlds, those who can successfully cross the Ancient Dragon's twilight death tribulation and gain a new life are, after all, only a tiny minority among the few.
Time slipped away quietly during the conversation and contemplation of the two dragons.
Garros did not wait for the Vassal Legion marching on the ground, but instead took the lead in arriving at the natural barrier between The Borderlands and the Serel Wilderness—the surging, incomparably wide Estonia Great River.
The murky, icy river water carried floating ice, roaring deafeningly between the steep canyons as it rushed toward an unknown distance.
"Deborah."
Garros's massive body hovered above the rushing river, and he said to the Red-Silver Dragon beside him, "You can stop accompanying me here. You may return."
The Red-Silver Dragon also stopped, swaying her tail slightly with a hint of reluctance.
"But, Garros, I also want to go see the wilderness."
Garros turned his head, gazing at the Red-Silver Dragon.
"The Dragon Flight has almost completely mobilized, leaving The Borderlands."
"The only dragons left behind here are Tereshi, whose strength is still shallow, and a group of young dragons that need protection. This amount of strength really cannot put my mind at ease."
After a pause, Garros said with particular seriousness, "Deborah."
"Only if you personally oversee The Borderlands, using your strength and wisdom to stabilize the rear, can I be assured."
The Red-Iron Dragon's voice carried heavy trust: "Only then can I head to the wilderness without any worries and carve out new territory for the tribe."
"Besides, it is not as if I am completely abandoning The Borderlands."
"I will frequently return here, return to Dragon Valley; this is a very important nest for us."
Hearing these words from Garros, especially the profound trust and heavy responsibility contained within them, the Red-Silver Dragon Deborah immediately felt that she was shouldering an important mission.
Thus, she no longer hesitated.
She no longer hesitated, nodding her massive head heavily, as if making a solemn promise.
"I understand."
Deborah's voice was resolute: "I will watch over The Borderlands for you and protect our home!"
Garros nodded slightly.
He still remembered the request from the Copper Dragon Serena back then.
The wilderness was more dangerous than The Borderlands, and The Borderlands indeed needed a more reliable dragon than Tereshi to hold the fort. Deborah was a very good choice.
"And me! And me!"
A crisp and energetic voice suddenly rang out.
The Fairy Dragon Vera suddenly darted out from under the Red-Silver Dragon's broad wing membrane. While fighting against the strong wind, she waved her claws and loudly declared, "I can also protect The Borderlands! I am very powerful."
Garros lowered his head, his gaze falling upon the Fairy Dragon's small frame, which appeared exceptionally petite and even slightly unsteady in the gale.
A trace of doubt appeared in his eyes.
"You seem to be looking down on me?"
The Fairy Dragon keenly caught that trace of doubt, and like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she huffed unhappily.
Then, as if to show off her strength, she nimbly did a beautiful somersault in the air and said confidently, "Watch closely! Lord Vera's skills have grown quite a bit now."
Before the words had even faded.
Her gauze-like wings beat fiercely, and her petite body nimbly drifted back nearly a hundred meters, riding the fierce, howling wind.
Hum—!
In the next instant, a strong and blinding flash of illusionary light suddenly flared, dazzling and mesmerizing.
Immediately following, a towering, majestic dragon filled with unparalleled power and a sense of oppression appeared in the sky.
It had deep black, thick scales, silent and calm vertical pupils, and massive wings that seemed capable of tearing the sky apart.
So much so that the moment Garros saw it, he couldn't help but let out a heartfelt exclamation.
"Truly mighty and majestic, with overwhelming presence!"
This dragon was exactly his likeness.
Its form, its details, and the suffocating, terrifying pressure it naturally emitted were, at first glance, identical to the real Garros.
"I am the great Lord of the Crimson Wings! King of the Molten Iron Tribe—Garros Ignas!"
The Red-Iron Dragon let out a low, majestic roar that was enough to shake the souls of all living things, its voice nearly indistinguishable from the real Garros.
"Foolish reptiles, seeing a True Dragon descend, why do you not kneel?!"
Following this roar, the Red-Iron Dragon suddenly spread its wings, covering the sky, and brilliant golden lightning and violent black-red Dragon Qi burst from its body. Its entire form seemed to expand once more, and its dragon might spread wildly in all directions like a tangible tsunami!
"Oh? You do not flee, but instead dare to stand your ground and stare directly at me?"
The Red-Iron Dragon cast a disdainful look at Garros and the Red-Silver Dragon opposite, adding extra flair to its performance.
"Reptile, then listen carefully to the death knell ringing for you!"
Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom!
A heartbeat, heavy as ancient war drums and roaring like a super-massive engine, sounded extremely realistically from within the illusion.
Immediately after, the scales all over its body instantly turned a searing, glowing red like hot iron, and lines of distinct, interwoven golden-red fire began to burn across its surface, as if countless enchanting and magnificent flaming red lotuses were blooming and swaying on its body at the same time! The entire dragon became even more terrifying and ferocious than before, as if it would destroy everything in the next instant.
"You even mimicked my Crimson Lotus State so vividly?"
Garros glanced sideways slightly, not expecting the Fairy Dragon's illusion to be this realistic.
If it were a dragon with slightly weaker perception.
Even an adult dragon, or some less sharp Mature Adult Dragon, seeing this vivid and awe-inspiring illusion from afar, would likely be terrified at the first reaction, wanting only to tuck their tails and run, never daring to step forward to verify its authenticity.
Meanwhile, after the demonstration was finished.
The awe-inspiring, massive Red-Iron Dragon illusion quietly collapsed and dissipated like a bubble, turning back into the petite and delicate Fairy Dragon.
"Hehe~ This is my most powerful and proudest illusion—[Garros Simulation]!"
Vera lifted her small chin triumphantly and proudly announced, "I quietly observe you, Garros, for a long, long time every day. I have firmly memorized every detail of your form and every change in your aura. The illusion I manifest is absolutely lifelike! Combined with the illusionary sound Spell to perfectly mimic your voice, it is enough to reach the point of being indistinguishable from the real thing."
As a Dream Weaver specializing in illusions, her skill tree naturally leaned toward the mysterious, elusive, and unpredictable, excelling at creating illusions that confuse the mind.
And among all the illusion Spells she had mastered.
This type of simulation Spell, which required extremely high skill and observation, could almost be called her most practical core skill.
By observing a creature with a powerful physical form at close range for a long time, deeply understanding its shape, movements, and even energy characteristics, she could eventually simulate it perfectly.
This was not just as simple as creating fear or confusing enemies.
When the Spellcaster's Rank was high enough and the observation of the target was sufficiently meticulous, once the authenticity of the simulated illusion reached a certain critical point.
This illusion could even turn the virtual into reality, allowing the simulated illusion to briefly possess a portion of the simulated target's true power! Delivering attacks that caused substantial damage!
And the simulation target Vera chose had been, from beginning to end, Garros, whom she viewed as the most powerful.
Because of years of close observation and the deep understanding gained from living together, she knew every detail of the Red-Iron Dragon by heart, and the realism of her illusion had reached a very high level.
This made her Garros illusion capable of more than just scaring people; it could even unleash a few quite threatening attacks.
"Exquisite and peerless illusion." Garros gave his praise without hesitation: "Vera, having you and Deborah guarding The Borderlands together, I feel even more at ease now."
"Remember to give me shiny gold coins or gems as a reward."
"Otherwise, I will turn into you, fly to different places, and shout that I am an idiot, ruining your reputation."
As she spoke, the Fairy Dragon dove back under Deborah's wing.
"If you encounter trouble that is difficult to solve, notify me immediately."
"With my speed, I will be able to arrive to support you very quickly."
Garros instructed.
Immediately after, following a simple farewell.
The Red-Iron Dragon did not linger, flapping his wings, and his massive figure gradually disappeared at the edge of the sky over The Borderlands.
He had no intention of waiting for the Vassal Legion, which was still on the march; instead, he decided to take a step ahead, heading directly to the Sinkhole Territory located in the Serel Wilderness, preparing to meet that Iron Dragon Mother whom he had not seen for decades.