Heavy dark clouds, like a lead-gray curtain, hung heavily over the circular Sinkhole Territory.
The cold, fine drizzle seemed endless, falling incessantly from the gloomy sky and drumming against the sodden earth.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Accompanied by the heavy, powerful beat of wings, the Red Dragon Gorthax, whose scales were as vivid as blood, circled low in the air above the sinkhole.
Dense raindrops rolled down his smooth yet hideous blood-colored scales, splashing into fine droplets on the ground.
However, his search during this time had yielded nothing, causing the Red Dragon's already perverse expression to grow more somber and oppressive than the dark clouds shrouding the sinkhole as time passed.
After dozens of seconds, his patience seemed to have completely run out.
Gorthax suddenly folded his massive wings, and his heavy body, carried by the sound of the wind, landed on a relatively open patch of ground at the bottom of the sinkhole, mud splashing everywhere beneath his claws.
The Iron Dragon Leticia followed and landed as well, cautiously stopping at a position a hundred meters away from the Red Dragon.
Rainwater similarly slid down her metallic scales, and her posture was full of wariness.
"Leticia, tell me."
Gorthax slowly turned around, his massive head lowered slightly, his eyes locked straight onto the Iron Dragon.
"Why can't I find even a single trace of the Frenzied Flame's existence?"
His tone was exceptionally calm—as calm as the deathly still surface of the sea before a storm—yet it set off alarm bells in Leticia's heart, as if she were facing an about-to-erupt volcano and could feel the dangerous tremors coming from beneath her feet.
Perhaps it was because this trip had failed to yield what he desired, resulting in a wasted effort.
Perhaps it was merely because of this annoying rainy weather, or perhaps it was his inherently unpredictable emotional fluctuations.
In short, the aura emanating from the Red Dragon Gorthax indicated that he was on the verge of madness.
"I don't know."
Leticia's voice rang out, maintaining as much calm as possible without a single ripple: "I have never personally witnessed the Frenzied Flame reignite here; what I told you were only rumors I had heard."
Gorthax began to walk.
His colossal body approached the Iron Dragon step by step, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.
"Since news spread from here, how could it be impossible to find even the slightest sign of its existence?"
Under the Red Dragon's highly oppressive gaze, the Iron Dragon slowly moved backward, maintaining a safe distance.
"I said, it might just be something spread by a group of adventurers..."
Before she could finish her sentence, she was brazenly interrupted by Gorthax's sudden explosion of a roar.
"Shut up!"
The Red Dragon's voice instantly drowned out the howling wind and rain, and the expression on his face snapped from calm to ferocious and brutal, the flames in his pupils looking as if they were about to spray out.
"Leticia! Is it you?!"
"Is it you who secretly took the Frenzied Flame that should have belonged to me?! Is it you who hid it?!"
The Iron Dragon Leticia was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring, her heart chilling as she realized the other party's emotions were already extremely unstable.
She maintained a surface level of composure and responded: "I have no interest in the Frenzied Flame, Gorthax. In the entire wilderness, I'm afraid you are the only one who would treasure such a dangerous and twisted thing."
The Red Dragon Gorthax fell into a brief silence, his massive head tilting slightly as if he were trying to think about something.
A few seconds later, the anger on his face receded like a tide, replaced by a look of gentleness.
"Be good, my dear Leticia."
"I know, perhaps you are doing this for my own good, fearing I'll be harmed by the Frenzied Flame, or perhaps out of some other thoughts I don't yet understand, which is why you hid the Frenzied Flame."
"But, look."
His voice became even softer, but beneath this softness lurked a heart-pounding danger: "I have already wasted a lot of time here for this matter, and my patience is limited."
"Do not disappoint me. Bring out the Frenzied Flame."
"Now. Immediately."
This fickle behavior made Leticia feel even more creeped out.
The wariness in the Iron Dragon's gaze deepened, and she repeated: "I will say it one last time, I do not have the Frenzied Flame."
"Gorthax, what you are obsessed with is merely your own delusion."
Hearing this, the gentleness on the Red Dragon Gorthax's face rapidly faded, replaced bit by bit by gloom, irritation, and rage.
He began to irritably lash his massive tail, the tip of it carving deep furrows into the wet, soft ground like a plowshare, with mud and gravel flying everywhere.
"Leticia! You seem to take me for a fool who can be fooled at will?!"
Gorthax let out a suppressed low growl, his voice like rolling thunder: "People fear me and call me the Mad King! The King of Fury! The Tyrant! But never the Foolish King!"
"No news can ever be something created out of nothing without a source!"
His sharp gaze was like a knife, pinning the Iron Dragon in place: "Since news of the Frenzied Flame reigniting in the Sinkhole Territory has spread, then there must be clues to its existence!"
"And yet, I cannot find a single trace!"
At this point, Gorthax's pupils contracted into two thin lines, and his speaking speed suddenly quickened.
"Now, there are only two possibilities for the truth before me—"
"Either the Frenzied Flame truly exists here, and you, my dear Leticia, have hidden it from me!"
"Or, it's you! Leticia! You intentionally spread false news to lure me here! You want to harm me!"
The Red Dragon Gorthax's massive body leaned forward slightly, and he roared word by word: "Tell me! Leticia! Now! Which case is it?!"
Cold raindrops drummed against the Iron Dragon's scales, making fine sounds.
She met him with silence, secretly alarmed.
She hadn't expected that even though Gorthax appeared so mad, he still possessed the same extraordinary quick-wittedness as before, approaching the truth so quickly.
"Look into my eyes! Answer me!"
The Red Dragon's low growl escalated into a thunderous roar, shaking the surrounding rain into disarray.
He pressed closer step by step, the dangerous light in his eyes almost becoming physical.
Suddenly, Gorthax's movements came to a halt, as if his claw had stepped on some foreign object.
He looked down and found an inconspicuous broken scale in the mud washed away by the rain.
It seemed to have been there for some time, almost merging with the earth, only now revealed by the washing of the rain.
The scale was black, but its edges shimmered with a faint silver luster.
—Garros's Frostburn Scales.
That was an old scale that had been broken and scattered on this land during the previous sparring session with the Iron Dragon Leticia.
"A dragon scale?"
Gorthax reached out with his other front claw, picked up the broken scale stained with muddy water, and brought it close to his nostrils to sniff deeply.
A highly recognizable scent, a mix of sulfur and metal, entered his perception.
"The aura of a Red Dragon... and the scent of an Iron Dragon..."
He muttered to himself, and then, as if a bolt of lightning had flashed through his mind, he suddenly raised his head, his gaze becoming incomparably fierce, baring his forest-white fangs at the Iron Dragon Leticia.
"Leticia! It seems my warning to you back then was far from deep enough!"
He questioned sternly, "Speak! Is this the scale of that so-called King of Molten Iron?!"
Without waiting for the Iron Dragon to answer, Gorthax had already snorted two streaks of scorching flame from his nostrils, his Fury ignited: "Slut! You actually hooked up with another dragon and conspired to murder me!"
The atmosphere in the sinkhole instantly froze, and even the raindrops seemed to become heavy.
"This is a trap! A trap targeting me, Gorthax!"
The Red Dragon was enraged, his roar shaking heaven and earth: "Leticia! I still held a piece of old affection for you, so sincere and burning! Yet you betray me like this! Damn you! You really deserve to die!"
"You think that by relying on that 'King of Molten Iron' who popped out of nowhere, you can deal with me? Come! Let him come! I'll be right here waiting! I will kill you all, leaving none behind!"
He had already completely seen through that the news of the Frenzied Flame was just bait. However, his extremely inflated self-confidence and Fury left him with no intention of retreating; instead, he decided to stay in the Sinkhole Territory and face the challenge head-on.
Gorthax's face was full of brutality as he hissed: "Before your good helper arrives, slut, I will first wring off that pretty head of yours! I'll use it as a meeting gift for that bastard!"
"Then, I will snap his neck! And then sew your head onto it! So you can be together forever! Hahahaha!"
Provoked, the Red Dragon completely revealed his mad and tyrannical nature.
However, facing Gorthax in such a crazed state, no fear appeared on Leticia's face. She merely raised her head slightly, her gaze passing over the Red Dragon's massive body to look toward the distant sky shrouded by the curtain of rain.
A brilliant meteor tore through the gloomy canopy, burning with a long trailing flame as it streaked across the sky at an unrivaled speed!
It sliced through the howling wind and rain, tracing a beautiful yet deadly arc against the leaden-gray background.
With a clear objective, it plunged straight toward the Sinkhole Territory!
"Who?!"
"Who?!"
The Red Dragon Gorthax suddenly turned, driven by a beast-like instinct, and looked up at the sky. The rapidly approaching point of light was reflected in his pupils.
Boom! Boom!
Accompanied by rings of expanding sonic boom clouds, the meteor arrived above the sinkhole with incomparable speed. It did not strike the ground directly; instead, it circled nimbly before landing steadily atop the rugged, steep rock wall like a descending monarch, revealing its true form.
It was no meteor from beyond the heavens.
The Lord of The Borderlands, the undisputed ruler of the northwestern region, the ominous star representing death, the King of Molten Iron—Garros!
He had arrived!
Behind the curtain of wind and rain, the two powerful dragons faced each other truly for the first time, their gazes meeting in the air without a hint of warmth.
Swept-back, imposing dragon horns shimmered with a cold light.
Sharp, dense spines covered the back and joints.
Bulging muscles, like blocks of steel, were filled with explosive power.
Thick tusks protruding from between the upper and lower jaws manifested the predator's ferocity... These typical Red Dragon traits were clearly discernible on Gorthax, yet they carried a unique flair.
Garros narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing this Red Dragon Father.
Finally, he noticed the scales on Gorthax's body, which possessed a piercing, blood-like luster. This scale color was more vibrant and eye-catching than any Red Dragon he had ever seen, and they were densely covered in a layer of indelible battle-scarred patterns, speaking of the countless battles and glories their owner had experienced.
Furthermore.
While his level of strength might not equal Garros's own, Gorthax's physique far surpassed that of an ordinary Red Dragon. Combined with a body length exceeding twenty-eight meters—far longer than Garros's—he appeared several sizes larger than Garros, creating an extremely intense sense of visual pressure and impact.
Opposite him, Gorthax's face was as dark as water as he also carefully sized up this uninvited guest.
Incredibly massive wings with edges as sharp as blades.
Layer upon layer of heavy dragon scales that seemed to provide multiple levels of protection.
Sharp, cold, and hard clusters of spines as dense as a forest of swords.
And that dragon physique, with muscles bulging and so strong it secretly surprised Gorthax.
...The Bloodline traits of the Red Dragon and the Iron Dragon seemed to have achieved a perfect Fusion and sublimation in this King of Molten Iron, and he had even evolved many unique characteristics.
"The King of Molten Iron, a half-blood mongrel."
Gorthax was the first to speak, his voice filled with disdain and killing intent: "You intend to collude with that bitch Leticia to kill me? Then come! I guarantee I will make you experience the most extreme pain and torture in the world!"
However, just as his harsh words fell, his nostrils twitched slightly as he carefully captured the Dragonkin scent carried in the air.
An indescribable doubt replaced part of the violence in his eyes, causing him not to attack immediately.
The Red-Iron Dragon spread his wings, leaped down from the rock wall, and landed steadily on the ground.
He took steady steps, approaching Gorthax one step at a time.
As the distance closed, Gorthax smelled a Bloodline aura from this Red-Iron Dragon that was becoming clearer and increasingly familiar.
King of Molten Iron... Red Dragon Bloodline... Iron Dragon Bloodline...
Gorthax subconsciously looked down at his own strong body covered in blood-red scales, then snapped his head around to look at the Iron Dragon Leticia, who was maintaining a vigilant and guarded posture to the side.
At the same time.
The vague sense of familiarity in his mind was like a lit fuse, instantly reaching its peak and transforming into a somewhat absurd conclusion.
"You... You are my offspring?!"
Gorthax blurted out in shock, his dragon pupils dilating slightly.
He looked at this Red-Iron Dragon before him, so strong and only a few sizes smaller than himself, and his brain stalled for a moment.
According to the timeline, if this was his descendant, he should at most be in the Young Adult Dragon stage right now.
A Young Adult Dragon, yet already possessing such a terrifying size, such boundless life force, and even establishing such an illustrious reputation in the wilderness.
After a brief moment of shock, the Red Dragon Gorthax's gaze was quickly replaced by an even deeper gloom.
Feeling proud of a descendant's extraordinary achievements? Relieved?
That was never his style.
On the contrary, at the thought that this descendant flowing with his own blood had a high probability of completely surpassing him in a few decades or a century, an uncontrollable anger and surging killing intent erupted from the depths of his heart.
"Hello, Father."
Facing the Red Dragon's cold and dangerous gaze, Garros showed no fear, approaching step by step at an unhurried pace.
"I have heard many things about you. Your style of doing things indeed makes me feel threatened, but those are ultimately just hearsay, not seen with my own eyes."
"Perhaps we can try to talk."
"I actually don't mind living together with my own kin in this vast wilderness; the space here is large enough that it should be able to accommodate us both."
When the distance between them shortened to less than a hundred meters.
The Red Dragon Gorthax suddenly grinned, revealing a hideous smile, but there was no mirth in his eyes, only cold mockery.
"Little brat, listen to your arrogant tone."
"Don't mind? Heh... Who do you think you are? You think you are qualified to stand here and speak to me as an equal?"
His voice paused, and he suddenly changed his tune.
"Oh... it seems I was a bit... overly excited just now."
He said with a chuckle: "My dear child, perhaps we really can join forces!"
"Father and son of one mind, together conquering and ruling this endless wilderness, making those lowly creatures like insects tremble under our Dragon Might, praising the greatness of us father and son for generations!"
"Of course, there is one small prerequisite."
"Good son, now, kneel in this mud and grovel before your great father! Let me see the respect and love I am due!"
This was not normal communication, but outright provocation and humiliation.
Garros stopped his advance when he was only dozens of meters away from Gorthax.
He shook his head slightly and said to Gorthax: "It seems there really is nothing left for us to talk about."
Almost the moment his words fell.
The Amethyst Dragon-Lion! The Holy Spirit Deer! The Phoenix! Golden Dragon Alberto! Lord of Flowers Charles! Iron Dragon Sorog! Red Dragon Samantha—one powerful figure after another appeared in the surrounding curtain of rain, encircling the cliff walls around the sinkhole.
Various gazes, like physical chains, focused and locked firmly onto Gorthax at the same time.
The smile on Gorthax's face vanished instantly.
"Damned mongrel!!"
He let out a roar that tore through the rain, his massive wings unfolding violently.
"You think you can challenge me with this bunch of trash?! And you dare to stand so close to me alone?!"
"Today, I will rip out your heart! Wring your neck! Crush your bones!! I guarantee it!! The process will make you wish you were dead!! And I will enjoy every second of it!!!"
Whoosh!
The Red Dragon suddenly spread his wings, seemingly about to pounce on the nearby Garros.
However, Garros's movements were a step faster.
The instant Gorthax attacked, Garros's already prepared dragon claw suddenly flung out a metal Formation Plate inscribed with complex runes.
He had approached Gorthax precisely for this moment.
The Formation Plate spun rapidly in the air, emitting a dark light.
In an instant, the Red Dragon Gorthax felt the surrounding space distort rapidly, and his body began to sink.
It wasn't a physical sinking, but rather the space he occupied was collapsing inward.
With him at the center, a dark red spatial vortex rose out of thin air, like a giant beast suddenly opening its bloody maw, swallowing his entire body.
The scene before the Red Dragon's eyes first froze abruptly, then, like an oil painting washed by a rainstorm, the colors blurred and quickly dissipated.
In its place.
Were figures gradually becoming clear amidst the distorted light and shadows, along with the silhouette of an unfamiliar building.
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