At Crimsonfang Peak, the warriors of the Dragon Blood Tribe were training relentlessly. The training ground resounded with the constant clash of tal and the thunder of their roars.
The air was thick with tension, for war could erupt at any mont. Because of this, Kaelrath had extended the training sessions by four full hours.
This ti, he would take no risks. He would never again make the mistake of underestimating an enemy. He had already paid the price for such arrogance—an unbearable price filled with sha and humiliation, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The entire tribe shared his disgrace. As the most powerful tribe of the Beast Continent, their humiliation was unmatched.
And as their leader—the strongest warrior of the continent—Kaelrath’s defeat at the hands of a woman had crushed them all.
To make matters worse, Queen Mireya had stripped him of his pride as a man, castrating him in front of all, destroying his manhood—the very symbol of strength for the Dragon Blood Tribe.
He, who had once been revered as the mightiest Dragon Warrior in the world... feared by n and desired by won, reduced to this state. The sha burned like fire in his veins.
"How are the preparations coming? Are my people facing any difficulties?" Kaelrath asked coldly as he watched his n training below, their fighting spirit radiating so strongly it could be felt from miles away.
"Everything is proceeding as planned, My Lord. However, the absence of Commander Zerath will weigh heavily on us in this war," said Xarion Blackscale, another commander of the Dragon Warriors, his tone heavy with concern.
"Indeed. His absence puts us in a difficult position," Kaelrath muttered, sighing. His expression then hardened into ice.
"Unfortunately, we’ve been unable to restore his missing limbs. Every thod has failed us."
"At this point, only the Elven Potion could heal him completely. But I will never lower my head to that bitch, never beg her for rcy."
His voice thundered with rage as his eyes burned like molten fire. "I will destroy her kingdom, take their potions by force, and drag that woman to her knees—humiliating her before the entire continent!"
Turning his piercing gaze toward Xarion, Kaelrath asked, "Commander Xarion, what about the Ogre Tribe? Have they made any strange movents lately?"
"No strange movent has been detected. However, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to get close to their tribe," Xarion reported with a grave expression. "Our scouts have been ambushed repeatedly by their patrol units. The situation is chaotic, and we don’t know for certain what they’re planning now."
"What?! How is this even possible?!" Kaelrath snapped, his eyes widening in disbelief as he glared at Xarion.
"Those wretched creatures! I’ll skin them alive and burn them all!" he growled, his voice dripping with fury as his fists trembled with barely restrained rage.
"My Lord, there’s no need to waste your anger on them now. Soon enough, we will annihilate them. What matters most at this mont is strengthening ourselves, not falling into distraction." Xarion’s calm voice and soft smile sought to ease Kaelrath’s fury.
"Hmm. You’re right. Strength first... pointless rage later," Kaelrath muttered, exhaling heavily as he regained control. With a stiff nod, he turned and left the training ground.
Commander Xarion followed close behind, the two of them conversing the entire way toward the Dragon Temple as they discussed strategy for the impending war against the Ogre Tribe.
—
In the Ogre Tribe, a massive warrior with a towering build entered the tribe leader’s hut, dragging behind him a broken captive—one of the Dragon Blood Tribe’s warriors. The man’s legs were crushed beyond repair, leaving him helpless to resist.
"Lord Malgar, I caught this rat sneaking near our borders. There were others, but they managed to escape. Still, most of them were injured," the ogre said, his voice rumbling like thunder as he tossed the Dragon warrior onto the stone floor before the throne.
"I see... Spies." Malgar’s eyes narrowed, a cold grin curling on his lips. "As expected from the Dragon Blood Tribe. Crafty as ever with their filthy tactics."
The ogre lord rose slowly from his throne, each step echoing with raw power as he approached the groaning captive. The warrior’s face was battered, his jaw swollen from repeated blows, his breath ragged with pain.
"P-Please... let go... I don’t want to die..." the Dragon warrior whimpered, his voice trembling, barely audible.
Malgar’s grin widened. He seized the captive by the hair and lifted him effortlessly, forcing the broken warrior to et his gaze.
"Let you go? Are you... misunderstanding sothing?" Malgar chuckled darkly, his eyes burning with fury. "Do you think I’d ever release a spy like you? You lunatics dare to watch us from the shadows?!"
With a roar, he hurled the warrior across the hut. The man’s body slamd violently against the stone wall, leaving a blood sar as he crumpled to the ground, broken and gasping.
"Arghhh!!" the captive scread, blood bubbling from his lips as he felt his ribs snap inside his chest from the brutal impact. Yet he was powerless to resist, his body broken and trembling.
"For years, you bastards have tried to oppress us! You sought to make us your slaves!" Malgar roared, his voice echoing like thunder as he strode forward. Grabbing the man once more, he lifted him off the ground with ease.
"I’ll crush every last one of you... and only then will our revenge be complete!" Malgar bellowed with a savage grin. His grip tightened rcilessly around the man’s skull.
With a sickening crack, the Dragon warrior’s head burst under the sheer force of his hand. Blood splattered across the walls, staining the floor, and even Malgar’s face as he crushed the life out of the man in an instant.
Calmly, Malgar wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand before turning to the ogre who had dragged the spy in. A cruel smile still lingered on his lips.
"Send a letter to Vrasha. Inform her that war is upon us. Our tribe will need her strength in the coming battle against the Dragon Blood Tribe," Malgar commanded.
"As you wish, My Lord," the ogre replied with a wide grin before bowing his head and departing swiftly.
Outside, he made his way directly to the shaman’s hut. Only the shaman knew the art of writing letters in the tribe—Vrasha being the only other exception.
Once the shaman finished writing, the ogre declared he would personally deliver the letter to the Elven Kingdom. This matter was of utmost importance, and there could be no room for error.
anwhile, word spread quickly throughout the Ogre Tribe: war with the Dragon Blood Tribe was inevitable. The warriors erupted in excitent, their blood boiling with anticipation.
For too long, they had only trained and prepared. Now, at last, they would put their strength to the test. The scent of blood awaited them, and they could scarcely contain their eagerness.
Their training grew even harsher. Warriors chose only the strongest sparring partners, knowing that true strength could only be forged against those who pushed them to their limits.
By uncovering their weaknesses in combat, they worked to sharpen their skills, patch their flaws, and eliminate vulnerabilities until nothing remained but strength.
United, they trained as one. Each warrior pushed the other, and each learned from the other. The determination of the Ogre Tribe blazed like wildfire.
This ti, they would topple the Dragon Blood Tribe completely—shattering their arrogance and erasing their influence from the continent.
—
In the Golden Lion Empire, Emperor Raghar walked slowly through the Imperial Garden of the palace, his expression dark with worry.
"I still can’t believe my daughter could be foolish enough to put a bounty on ’that’ woman’s head. If Mireya learns Lindsey was behind the assassination attempt... this will not end well for us," he muttered under his breath, his steps heavy along the stone walkway.
As he continued forward, Empress Lyra appeared behind him, her face marked by concern. Seeing her husband’s troubled expression only deepened her unease.
"Dear, what happened in Lindsey’s room? Did you confront her about her trip to the Lawless City?" she asked, her voice tense with worry. Her fingers clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"I did," Emperor Raghar admitted with a solemn nod. His expression made it clear—what had transpired was far worse than she imagined. "And she has made a grave mistake. A mistake she still refuses to acknowledge."
’What could my foolish daughter have said to him to make him look so shaken?’ Empress Lyra wondered, her heart sinking with unease.
"What kind of mistake are you talking about? Did she squander a fortune again and cause us to lose gold?" Lyra pressed, her voice both curious and fearful.
"It’s far worse than that. This ti she has endangered the entire empire—and she behaves as if she has done nothing wrong," Raghar sighed heavily before lowering himself onto a stone bench. Lyra quickly joined him, her eyes fixed on his troubled face.
"What exactly did she do? Tell clearly," she urged, her voice low but firm.
Raghar turned to her, his eyes burning with anger and dread. "Do you know whose head she placed a bounty on? It’s Queen Mireya! She dared to issue a bounty on that madwoman! How do you expect to keep calm after hearing this?!"
Empress Lyra’s eyes widened in horror. She froze, unable to blink for several seconds, before surging to her feet in disbelief.
"What?! How could she?! Doesn’t she understand how dangerous the Queen of the Elves is? Mireya destroyed our dam not long ago, and we couldn’t even stop her!" she exclaid, her forehead breaking into a nervous sweat.
"And do you know why she did it?" Raghar’s voice darkened further as he continued, "Because the Queen refused to sell her potions to us. Over sothing so petty, she placed a bounty on Mireya’s head!"
He drew several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. "Now I finally realize how much I spoiled her while raising her. It’s my fault. I was never as strict with her as I was with my other children."
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