Chapter 641: Utterly Insulting the Purification Faction Dragons
The dream world was, as always, a riot of blooming flowers in every color imaginable.
Various blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, a faint, delicate fragrance permeating the air and soaking into the entire dream.
The Green Dragon coiled among the soft clusters of flowers.
Her long neck drooped slightly, her eyes widened just a little, as she gazed at the red iron dragon across from her, whose body gleamed with a metallic sheen.
"You went out to the stars and even encountered a rare Moon Dragon?"
Garoth nodded his massive head and said, "Yes, a black-and-white Moon Dragon, dwelling on Bernardo's moon. He helped me find a suitable white dwarf for tempering—ultra-dense with supergravity, perfect for forging the body."
Using a white dwarf for tempering?
Cerora blinked, glossing over that remark.
The physiques of dragons couldn't be compared indiscriminately, and there was no point in digging deeper for comparison.
She said, "Space Dragons have always been elusive and rare. Few have ever truly seen a Space Dragon's true form, let alone communicated with one. It's quite fortunate to have encountered one."
"But didn't you try to recruit the Moon Dragon to Aola?"
The red iron dragon shook his head and replied, "The Moon Dragon belongs to the stars. It's enough to have established a connection with him."
Cerora listened, nodded thoughtfully, and didn't pursue the topic further.
She adjusted her lying posture to make herself more comfortable among the flowers, her long tail draping over the red iron dragon and swaying gently, the scraping of scales against scales producing a soft rustling sound.
"You seem quite satisfied with this journey to the stars. What did you discover? Tell me about it."
"Don't leave out any details. I want to know everything from start to finish."
She said this in a languid tone.
The red iron dragon lowered his gaze to the Green Dragon lying in the flowers.
After a brief moment of thought, he recounted the events of his star journey to Cerora, including the warnings from the constellations and the dangers Bernardo faced.
After hearing all this.
The casual indifference on the Green Dragon's face gradually faded, replaced by a serious expression.
"The Egg of Catastrophe... the Omens of Myriad Disasters."
The Green Dragon tilted her head, closed her eyes in contemplation for a moment, then opened them again.
"I searched through my inherited memories. There are no records of this Primordial Wastes."
Her voice turned solemn as she continued, "However, since it is a Primordial Wastes and an ancient one at that, beings of this level cannot be underestimated, regardless of whether our records mention them or not."
Garoth remained silent.
There's a saying: only misnamed things exist, not misnamed titles.
A being's title often reflects its essence, power, and position within the world.
Take myself, for example—
Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, the Undying Dragon, the Blasphemer... these titles don't sound like those of a weakling, and in reality, they aren't. Moreover, these titles don't carry too many positive or negative connotations. They're mainly neutral, objective descriptions, summarizing his power and experiences.
But titles like Egg of Catastrophe and Omens of Myriad Disasters sound entirely different.
Between the lines, they reek of evil, danger, and destruction.
Listeners would instinctively feel uneasy.
Garoth collected his thoughts.
He shifted the topic and asked, "Have the elves of Arotala made any new moves?"
After discovering issues with the Purification Potion, he had earnestly warned Nausil.
As for whether they would heed his advice, he had no way of knowing.
"Still the same as before."
The Green Dragon said, "They are dedicated to clearing the Cataclysm Storm. Thanks to the emergence of the Purification Potion, they've achieved remarkable results in this time. At this rate, perhaps in a few more years, Arotala will completely rid itself of the storm's influence."
"But..."
Garoth interjected, "This might just be the calm before the darkness."
The Green Dragon slowly nodded. "Based on what you just said, the source of the storm is approaching Bernardo. What the elves are doing now is utterly meaningless. And if there are indeed problems with the Purification Potion, things will only get worse from here."
Her voice paused briefly as Cerora pondered, "Should we explain the pros and cons to Nausil and get them to stop using the Purification Potion?"
The red iron dragon lifted his head slightly and said, "I've already warned them seriously, but clearly, they trust their own judgment more than my warning."
Elves possessed a pride and confidence that rivaled any intelligent lifeform.
This was something they had accumulated over countless years—the very foundation of the elven race. Historically, they had relied on this pride and confidence to overcome crises time and again.
But sometimes, it could also become an obstacle.
Garoth had no doubt.
Upon receiving his warning, the elves of Nausil would treat it with great importance at first.
The elven high command would summon advisors and scholars, organize personnel to conduct stricter tests on the Purification Potion, and might even involve immortals, trying to identify the issues he had mentioned.
But.
As long as they couldn't find any serious problems, they would toss his warning aside, at most adding a few extra review steps to the existing procedures.
And the elves had indeed done exactly that.
The Green Dragon lowered her head in thought for a while, until a butterfly fluttered past the tip of her nose from among the flowers.
"Speaking of which, besides the elves, many orcs were infected with the Fury Curse back then."
She gave a slight toss of her head and continued, "However, the orcs found a different path."
"They used their powerful faith, through the fanatical will of their believers, to suppress the curse, seal it within their bodies, and even weaponize it to some extent. Orc warriors strengthened by the curse feel no pain or fear on the battlefield."
The orcs and the frenzied flame.
Together, they had unleashed an unending tide of war across Arotala. Neither the orcs alone nor the Cataclysm Storm alone would have made the flames of war burn so fiercely. But when these two merged, the result was a catastrophe that swept across the entire continent.
"The orcs are holed up in Thalassia."
"The Kantum, who once stirred up waves across Arotala, can now only flee back to their former continent to barely survive. They've almost completely withdrawn from Bernardo's main stage."
"Their faith... is probably facing a crisis."
The red iron dragon's eyes flickered with thought as he spoke slowly.
He had personally experienced the process of ascending to godhood and had his own understanding of faith.
Faith was a double-edged sword.
Used well, it could forge an iron will and an invincible conviction, allowing warriors to maintain their fighting spirit in the harshest environments.
But used poorly, or when it faced a crisis—
An entire civilization built on faith could be reduced to ashes.
"Thalassia was once a fertile land. The soil was rich, the minerals abundant, and the climate suitable. Almost any crop could grow there."
"But the orcs never exercised restraint."
The Green Dragon's expression turned cold as she continued, "They chopped down the forests, burned the grasslands, polluted the rivers into stinking sewers... The orcs never considered whether the land could endure. Their reckless, draining plunder continued for countless years, until they turned a prosperous continent into today's barren wasteland."
Green Dragons were naturally drawn to the natural environment.
The orcs' trampling and destruction of nature made Cerora genuinely displeased.
She looked at Garoth and offered a suggestion, "Have you ever considered marching on Thalassia? The orcs may have fallen from grace, but they still occupy a continent. With Aola's current strength, conquering them shouldn't be difficult."
"Among the major empires, Kantum is now the softest target."
"And besides, barren lands also have a chance to become fertile again."
Nature had its own resilience.
Once the orcs were gone, Thalassia's environment would naturally recover over time.
The red iron dragon slowly shook his head and said, "I've discussed this with my blood kin."
"A cornered beast facing extinction is the most dangerous."
"The orcs have already lost everything they could lose. They only have their last patch of habitat and their final shred of pride left. Poking them now would only drive them to erupt with their last ounce of madness."
"If the elves, who have blood feuds with the orcs, aren't in a hurry, then naturally, I don't need to rush either."
"Let them keep consuming each other. We'll wait until the time is right."
There was a saying: an army driven to despair is bound to win.
When someone feels they have nothing left to lose, they can unleash strength and courage unimaginable in peacetime, becoming an invincible force.
Poking Kantum now would only force them to become that "army driven to despair."
Moreover, no matter how fallen they were now, Kantum still had deities backing them. On the other hand, although the Beast of Might was not among the upper echelons of the gods, it was not an independent deity.
Behind Bag stood an entire orc pantheon.
Garoth himself and Sacred Aola hadn't yet reached their limits.
There was no need to risk a death match with Kantum for meager resources and a barren piece of land. The risks far outweighed the rewards.
Cerora nodded gently. "Makes sense."
She didn't press further, adjusted her position slightly, stretched her wings a little, and then folded them back to her sides.
"Let's set aside these serious matters for now."
The Green Dragon said.
Garoth lifted his gaze to look at the Green Dragon across from him.
Cerora rose to her feet. The flowers beneath her straightened back up, and some petals clung to her scales, looking exceptionally vivid against the green backdrop.
She stared straight at the red iron dragon and asked, "Garoth, I've shown no signs of pregnancy. Is it because you're lacking, or is there a problem with my bloodline?"
The red iron dragon remained silent.
He certainly had no issues—the many Emperor's sons were proof of that.
But in truth, he was already an extremely ancient dragon.
After passing the prime stage of life, a dragon's reproductive ability gradually declines, and the probability of producing offspring keeps decreasing. The sheer power of life itself also often makes it harder to conceive.
This was a balancing mechanism to prevent overly powerful lifeforms from reproducing excessively.
Garoth thought for a moment and said, "The finer the bloodline, the harder it is to combine. We are both exceptional great dragons, and both of us have already reached the Mandate of Heaven tier. Naturally, producing offspring will be much more difficult."
The restlessness in Cerora's eyes eased slightly.
Garoth's voice was steady as he continued, "Fortunately, we have plenty of time ahead of us. There's no need to rush."
"If ten years don't work, then a hundred years. If a hundred years don't work, then a thousand years. On our scale of life, this amounts to nothing."
As dragons age and their life level increases, their reproductive ability gradually declines, but that doesn't mean it disappears entirely. In the inherited records, there were examples of ancient great dragons giving birth to new offspring.
Hearing this, the Green Dragon's emotions gradually calmed.
She smiled softly and said, "Time is long, but it must also be cherished. We can't just waste it."
The Green Dragon coiled back down among the flowers.
Her tail rose again, lightly brushing through the gaps in the red iron dragon's scales, bringing a gentle, ticklish sensation.
A breeze blew by.
The riot of colorful flowers swayed gently, rising and falling, veiling the forms of the two great dragons deep within the sea of blossoms.
Time perception between the dream and reality was inconsistent.
What felt like a long time in the dream could be just a brief moment in reality.
And vice versa.
After some time, the night grew deeper over the Rhen Plateau.
The sky was filled with countless stars, the Milky Way stretching across overhead. The red iron dragon coiled on the open-air high platform slowly opened his eyes, shining brightly in the darkness.
Immediately after, a message came from Alvia, the Blue Dragon.
"The Metal Dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain have started frequently attacking and harassing the Aola dragons patrolling the shallow-sea territories, as well as the merchant fleet under Aola's banner."
"These Purification Faction Metal Dragons really can't read the room."
The red iron dragon thought to himself.
The name of Sacred Aola had now spread across all of Bernardo, standing alongside the great empires. Whenever mentioned, anyone would praise the greatness and majesty of the Red Emperor.
This was a status Garoth had earned through victory after victory.
Except for the Purification Faction dragons, who never forgot their original intent.
Scarlet Calamity, Evil Dragon Emperor, Sinister Dragon Empire...
The negative voices spreading from the Raging Tides Dragon Domain were unmatched across all of Bernardo.
The Purification Faction dragons insulted him relentlessly, using almost every derogatory term they could find. In their mouths, the Red Emperor was not a king restoring the dragons' greatness, but a catastrophe bringing disaster to the world.
In truth, Garoth had never cared about empty reputations.
Just as a lion wouldn't mind the offense of an ant, he never took harmless verbal attacks to heart, paying no attention to the voices coming from the Raging Tides Dragon Domain.
But.
With the Bronze Dragon King's fate unknown and the dragons leaderless, the Metal Dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain daring to stretch their claws toward him was another matter entirely.
Verbal attacks could be ignored, but actual attacks and offenses could not.
"My dear blood kin."
Garoth contacted his blood kin through the Mental Link.
"I'm here."
Sorog responded immediately, followed by Gordon and Samantha.
The red iron dragon asked, "The Metal Dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain are defiling the empire's glory. Tell me, as the Master of Aola, what should I do?"
After a brief silence.
Samantha's excited roar rang out, "I've had my eye on those Purification Faction dragons for a long time. A bunch of self-righteous, stubborn fools actually thinking they're the righteous ones!"
"It's time."
"With these die-hard Purification Faction dragons, we should stomp them under our claws and utterly insult them!"
Gordon chuckled.
Instead of opposing Samantha, he directly echoed, "The Dragon Domain has quite a few wondrous sights and holy sites. And Aola is just lacking in such heritage."
Compared to the two optimists, Sorog was more calm and rational.
But he too was eager, saying, "The Dragon Domain itself is a grand formation, capable of focusing the power of legendary dragons together. That's the foundation of a Dragon Domain's existence."
"However, with the Bronze Dragon King's fate unknown."
"Who in the Raging Tides Dragon Domain can step up and oppose us?"
Garoth had long heard of the Dragon Domain formation.
It was recorded in the Dragon Legacy, and he had heard of it many times.
Before the birth of Sacred Aola, the Metal Dragon Domains managed to stand firm in a world ruled by three great empires, largely because of this formation's existence.
"How long can it hold me back?"
Garoth was quite curious about this.
Then, without any debate, the Emperor and the Royal Dukes reached an agreement in an instant.