Chapter 162: War Rises Again

Sunlight pierced the geometrically perfect gap that magic had torn through the white clouds, shining down on the White Dragon Lord and the Legendary Priest.

Both harbored deep reservations. The White Dragon Lord feared the priest might drag him into a catastrophic self-detonation, while the Legendary Priest feared having his soul obliterated, erased entirely from the world.

Bound by mutual wariness, neither struck. They simply faced off in the sky.

Gradually, shifting air currents smoothed over the gap in the clouds left by the legendary magic.

The White Dragon Lord broke the silence first.

"High Bishop Ogsger, I think you understand that a battle between us would be fruitless. I won't give you the chance to get close."

To drive his point home, the White Dragon Lord cast Blink, reappearing directly behind Ogsger.

"If you can't get close, you certainly can't drag me down to meet His Holiness Balinor."

Ogsger and the divine servitor turned in unison, keeping their eyes locked on the White Dragon Lord. The bishop's gaze betrayed intense apprehension. This white dragon's spellcasting level was terrifyingly high—so high that Ogsger felt as if he were facing a Legendary Mage.

His instincts were entirely correct. The White Dragon Lord's spellcasting ability rivaled that of an ordinary Legendary Mage. A staggering Level 19 Mage progression, combined with the innate magical talents of the Dragon Race, granted him a depth of magical knowledge and an arsenal of spells far surpassing any ordinary dragon.

Ogsger had no desire to push the White Dragon Lord any further.

"White Dragon! Tell me where Salilina went, and I will leave immediately."

"Your Eminence, you already know the answer. Why ask a pointless question?"

The White Dragon Lord shifted the subject.

"Besides, you have far more important matters to attend to than a vendetta. The current survival of the Northern Barbarian Race is quite precarious, isn't it?"

Ogsger's expression darkened. Though the barbarians frequently raided the southern human kingdoms and projected an image of immense strength, the Northern Barbarians actually sat near the bottom of the Nordhill Continent's food chain.

Their southern raids were driven entirely by the need to survive.

Resources in the northern region were scarce. Warmer seasons with ample food were manageable, but in winter, when conventional hunting and foraging failed, they had only one option: invade and plunder neighboring kingdoms for sustenance, while simultaneously using the casualties of war to cull their own population.

Historically, the victimized human kingdoms never launched large-scale retaliatory campaigns against the Northern Barbarians. This wasn't because the barbarians were exceptionally strong, but because they were overwhelmingly destitute. There was simply no plunder to be had, leaving the kingdom rulers with zero incentive to wage war.

Furthermore, the barbarians possessed three legendary Guardians. Any nation contemplating the annihilation of the barbarian race had to weigh the catastrophic consequences.

But now, the situation was completely different. The strongest barbarian chieftain had fallen in battle, and The Berserker, Siegfried, was severely injured. If Ogsger died here too, the Kingdom of Pavlan and the Kingdom of Rowe would absolutely agree to a temporary truce. They would join forces to wipe out the Barbarian Tribe, carve up their territory, and enslave the entire populace.

A bead of cold sweat slid down Ogsger's face. He forced himself to speak.

"You don't need to worry about the state of our people."

The White Dragon Lord shook his head.

"Is that so? Then I suspect it won't be long before I see massive batches of barbarians listed on the slave markets."

"You!"

Ogsger boiled with fury, yet he was utterly powerless to refute the claim.

"Enough, Your Eminence. Rather than wasting time pestering me, you would do better to return and tend to His Holiness's flock. If something were to happen to the sheep, how exactly would His Holiness punish a negligent shepherd?"

"I imagine you know the answer to that far better than I do."

The White Dragon Lord's words struck directly at his soul, leaving an incredibly bitter taste in Ogsger's mouth.

Balinor, the god of the barbarians, was no merciful deity. In truth, anyone associated with the barbarians was utterly devoid of a good temper.

If Balinor's faith in Nordhill were to be completely extinguished because of Ogsger's negligence, the punishment awaiting him would be far worse than merely being barred from the Divine Kingdom.

Ogsger gave the White Dragon Lord one last, profound look—as if permanently carving the dragon's image into his memory—before turning with his divine servitor and flying away.

Watching the Legendary Priest vanish into the horizon, the White Dragon Lord returned to White Castle.

...

One week later.

Inside the great hall of White Castle, the various monster leaders gathered after receiving the White Dragon Lord's summons.

"Everyone, the time has come. It is time to bring the entire Overseas Archipelago under the control of White Castle."

The White Dragon Lord's opening words set the monster leaders' blood boiling. After more than a decade of quiet peace, the violent instincts surging through their veins had reached a boiling point. They were practically starving for a brutal, unrestrained battle to vent their primal destructive urges.

The most visibly excited among them were the gnoll chieftain, Hogg Riverclaw; the troll leader, Rog Giantfist; and the harpy chieftain, Della Blood Feather.

Looking over the crowd of clenched fists in the hall, the White Dragon Lord nodded in satisfaction. A comfortable life hadn't dulled the fighting spirit of his monster commanders.

"Della Blood Feather! Report your reconnaissance results."

"Yes, respected Master."

Della Blood Feather stepped forward and presented the intelligence gathered by the Harpy clan.

"Following your orders, Master, we surveyed all of Kumlinge and mapped out the distribution of forces across the Main Island."

"There are three primary factions on Kumlinge's Main Island. The first is the Wyvern Clan, led by the Wyvern King. Their flock is massive, numbering over three hundred members. Since the eastern giant eagles departed, they are the strongest aerial force remaining on the Main Island."

"However, the Wyvern Clan is no major threat, as their leader has yet to reach the Legendary Rank. Far more powerful than the wyverns are the Main Island's other two overlord-tier beings: the Earth Dragon King, Kemosg, and the Nether Panther, Yuir."

Della Blood Feather continued her report.

"The Earth Dragon King, Kemosg, leads a pack of over five hundred Land Dragons. He is far more robust and savage than his kin. His virtually indestructible scales are the very reason he reigns unopposed across the Main Island. To this day, I've never heard of anyone managing to draw blood from Kemosg."

Della Blood Feather glanced up at the White Dragon Lord on his throne.

"Of course, now that he must face you, Master, his undefeated myth will finally end."

The White Dragon Lord gave a noncommittal nod. Land Dragons were a sub-dragon species. Their innate Creature Level was Level 13, and their intelligence was remarkably low. In appearance, they resembled a Tyrannosaurus rex fully encased in earthy-yellow dragon scales.

Possessing no wings, Land Dragons could not fly. To compensate and improve their survivability over millions of years of evolution, their scales had grown incredibly thick and heavy. Their defensive capabilities were astounding—their armor was even tougher than that of their bloodline ancestors, the True Dragon Race.

Aside from this supreme defense, however, a Land Dragon's other attributes were entirely average.

The White Dragon Lord waved a claw, signaling the harpy to continue.

Della Blood Feather resumed her explanation.

"The Land Dragon Clan holds fixed territory. They reside among the mountains in the central region of Kumlinge."

"The Nether Panther, Yuir, is a mutated ferocious beast. He is roughly six meters long—not particularly massive—but he can leap freely between shadows, and his claws can effortlessly shred solid rock."

"Furthermore, tracking him down is a challenge. Yuir is a solitary creature whose whereabouts are completely unpredictable. Over the past ten years, the Harpy clan has only caught sight of him a handful of times."

"Aside from those three, there are various smaller beast packs and monster tribes—lizardmen, ogres, kobolds, gnolls, and goblins. They are scattered all across the Main Island. They have..."

Concluding her report, Della Blood Feather crossed her blood-red wings and stepped back.

From atop the Crystal Throne, the White Dragon Lord spoke.

"Everyone, our primary targets are the three groups Della just named, along with those scattered monster tribes. We are going to crush them one by one until every last one is conquered!"

The monster commanders threw their arms up and roared in exhilaration, practically smelling the scent of fresh blood in the air.

A moment later, the White Dragon Lord rapped his claws against the throne.

The monster leaders instantly fell dead silent, though the feverish zeal in their eyes still threatened to overflow.

The White Dragon Lord continued.

"I will deal with the Land Dragon Clan and the Wyvern Clan personally. The remaining monster tribes are yours to handle."

Using magic, the White Dragon Lord sketched a rough map of Kumlinge in the air.

Amos pointed at a spot on the southern edge of the map, highlighting the targets surrounding it.

"Gurgalu! You will lead the Skull-Crusher Ogres to make landfall in the south. These large monster factions—the Wildhammer Ogre Tribe and the Broken Tooth Gnoll Clan—are yours to handle. Once you have conquered them, march your forces westward, subjugating the Blood Claw Clan and the Blood Fist Tribe along the route."

The Two-Headed Ogre Chieftain pounded his heavily muscled chest, producing a dull, heavy boom.

"The Skull Crusher Clan will not fail you! Great Master!"

The White Dragon Lord marked out another location.

"Hogg Riverclaw, Rog Heavyfist, you two will form a group and land on the northern shores of Kumlinge. The monster clans and beast packs up north are yours to handle. Once the north is swept clean, march east."

The troll leader smashed his massive fists together and threw his head back in a wild roar, while Hogg bared his snow-white fangs.

"I assure you, they will all bow at your feet, great Master."

"Excellent. Hogg, you have never disappointed me. I hope this time will be the same."

The white dragon issued his next command.

"Old Blind, Bucky Darkscale, you two will split your forces and clear the sea beasts from Kumlinge's coastal regions."

"Furthermore, there is a large lizardman tribe living in the coastal swamps south of Kumlinge—the Beachstrider Lizardman Tribe. Bucky Darkscale, they are yours to deal with as well."

"Your will is the path the murlocs march," they said in unison.

The White Dragon Lord turned toward the harpies.

"Della Blood Feather! You will divide the harpies into four groups to accompany the four teams on reconnaissance missions. You must secure an intelligence advantage and reduce unnecessary casualties for the teams."

"As you wish."

The harpy crossed her wings and bowed slightly.

"Old Jimmy, you will oversee White Castle and manage all logistics. In three days' time at dawn, the exact moment the sun rises, we march."

"Yes!"

Old Jimmy gave a mage salute.

"Dismissed!"

The monster leaders dispersed to prepare for the campaign.

The White Dragon Lord headed to the second floor of White Castle and woke the slumbering Felicia and Willy.

"What? Amos, you're going to conquer the Main Island?!"

Felicia looked as if she had just seen a ghost.

"What? Is there a problem?"

"No, nothing."

The Dragon Sister looked somewhat downcast. Originally, she had believed that while there was a gap between her and her older brother, it wasn't too large.

It was only now, hearing that Amos was going to the Main Island to cause trouble for those legendary overlord-tier creatures, that Felicia awakened as if from a dream, realizing that the gap between her and her brother was already so obvious.

Willy, who didn't overthink things as much, muttered in confusion.

"Has White Castle's development already become this fast?"

Amos sounded exasperated.

"If you two slept a little less and helped me share some of the administrative work, you wouldn't be completely ignorant of White Castle's development!"

Felicia turned her head away with an indifferent look, while Willy offered a sheepish smile.

"Amos, what can we do?"

The White Dragon Lord sighed inwardly. Felicia was quite strong, but she always acted on instinct and hated using her brain. Willy, on the other hand, gave the White Dragon Lord much less to worry about.

"That flock of three hundred wyverns is yours to handle."

True Dragons possessed an innate suppression over sub-dragon species. Whether the wyverns would even have the courage to attack the Dragon Brother and Dragon Sister was still unknown, so the two agreed without a moment's hesitation.

The White Dragon Lord walked toward the second-floor balcony, then suddenly thought of something.

"Oh, and bring Ala and Scarlett along with you. They could use the experience."

The Dragon Brother and Dragon Sister nodded.

...

Three days later, at dawn.

Three white dragons and two wyverns stood at the peak of White Castle, looking out at the densely packed monster army below.

On the distant horizon, Amos watched a ray of sunlight pierce through the darkness of dawn.

The White Dragon Lord threw his head back and unleashed a resounding draconic roar.

The Dragon Brother and Dragon Sister joined in, and Ala and Scarlett, though entirely confused, blindly roared alongside them.

The resounding draconic roars echoed across the sky, carrying for several kilometers.

The roar acted as a spark, igniting the engine of White Castle's war machine.

Loud horn blasts rose and fell in response—from the conch shells of the murlocs to the ox-horn trumpets of the ogres.

White Castle's grand army began to move. The murlocs mounted their steeds and plunged directly into the sea, while land-based races like the ogres and gnolls gathered their weapons and armor, lining up in long columns to board White Castle's custom-built blackwood warships.

The ships set sail from the military port of White Scale City.

Across the shimmering surface of the sea, murlocs riding sea turtles and sharks surrounded the fully rigged custom blackwood warships, sailing together toward the rising sun.

Atop the large ships, flags embroidered with four white dragons snapped wildly in the wind.

Above the sea of clouds, three massive white dragons and two smaller wyverns flew together toward the fiery red sun.