Ashen Dragon

Of course, if the Dwarf God descends upon us, Misha, as your pact warlock, can summon you to Aivendel Dane at any moment to ensure the empire's absolute victory."

"Well planned. Proceed. I want you to capture Aivendel Dane as soon as possible and launch an offensive against the Wuge Prairie, completely demolishing the Red Blood Tribe."

Cassius nodded again, lowering his massive forelimb to support his body as he slowly rose, smiling as he said, "But... right now, I almost wish the Dwarf God would arrive."

...

Traveling from North Aisier to the northeastern region requires navigating upstream along the Courtney River, passing through a vast, elongated river valley, nicknamed the "Metal Road."

Merchants would purchase ores, precious metals, and finely crafted weapons from the dwarves, then transport them downstream to the former Empire of Fadlan.

Now, this "Metal Road" has turned into a temporary military passage for the Ashen Empire.

The ground trembled, peaks roared, rivers quivered, and dense smoke blanketed the valley, startling flocks of birds into chaotic flight.

The empire's steam tanks rolled forward like migrating beasts in clustered formation at the forefront, their engines emitting muted, beast-like growls that promised destruction to anything in their path.

Bipedal wyverns flapped their wings erratically in the sky, letting out hoarse cries and casting mottled shadows over the ground like clouds.

Among the wyverns, their leader Smaug unleashed a domineering roar, his broad dragon wings beating fiercely, commanding the dragonkin with undisputed authority.

"Roar——"

The sheer force of the Dragon's Might radiating outward sent the mountain's birds and beasts fleeing in panic.

Smaug, now endowed with multiple Dragon Blood blessings, stood at a towering length of twenty-five meters, comparable to a mature or even elder Red Dragon!

Under the transformation induced by the Ancestral Dragon Blood, his body was covered with tough scarlet scales, making his appearance almost indistinguishable from a true Red Dragon. Save for the notable bipedal trait, even dragon scholars would struggle to differentiate him.

Cassius, exhibiting a hint of his own peculiar amusement, had specifically appointed Smaug, the Wyvern leader, to take part in this war.

Dwarves, the Lonely Mountain, golden treasures, Smaug... This was a lineup that Cassius found all too familiar.

Behind the Tank Legion and Wyvern Legion marched the fast-moving Imperial Infantry. These elite soldiers, fresh from the battlefields, not only carried well-refined weapons but also demonstrated unparalleled resolve.

Among these infantrymen, nearly 20% bore varying degrees of dragon bloodline traits. Scattered patches of scales appeared on their skin, granting them abnormal vitality and an insatiable thirst for battle.

Trailing at the rear were the empire's logistical and engineering units. Yet even these enormous steam locomotives, loaded with ammunition and rations, alongside engineering vehicles carrying iron bridges, exuded an overwhelming presence.

The Empire's army advanced with tremendous fanfare, their march thunderous and deliberate, unafraid to conceal their intentions—eliciting terror amongst neighboring factions.

Under such overwhelming momentum, no one dared to recklessly obstruct the Empire's forces—not even the notoriously brave and death-defying Harpist Alliance, who instead resorted to gathering covert intel in the surrounding hills and woods, tracking the army's movement from afar.

The Imperial Military Department strategists had planned with pinpoint accuracy: within three days, not a moment more or less, this formidable force reached the Jia Wen Basin south of Black Stone Mountain at astonishing speed.

At this moment, the imperial soldiers could even glimpse that majestic fortress built against the mountains—Aivendel Dane—standing proudly in the distance.

The banners of the Ashen Empire fluttered furiously in the skies above, as the imperial soldiers rallied together, their voices breaking into the resounding "Song of Cassius" and the triumph-filled "Song of Victory" echoing loud over the plain.

From above, hundreds of bipedal wyverns spiraled and soared, their heads stretching upwards as they released cohesive roars, showcasing an awe-inspiring grandeur.

The Great Goblin Marshal Derol stood atop the "Emperor's Fury" tank, surveying the army he had brought with overwhelming pride.

Truthfully, even he himself hadn't imagined he'd ever receive an opportunity of such gravity—to lead forces in a campaign of this magnitude—a prerogative that had always belonged to Marshal Dolores.

Derol had come from humble beginnings, initially serving as just a regular goblin boss under Dolores during his years as a goblin warlord. Swiftly, Derol had risen through the ranks after joining the Ashen Nest, riding on the tide of conquest.

Now, Derol stood as a Marquis of the Empire, an Imperial Army Admiral, and second-in-command of the military. Apart from the supreme Emperor and the three Grand Dukes, this goblin had ascended to an apex never before seen.

But now, a new opportunity had arisen.

When the Senate declared its resolution to dispatch him to Aivendel Dane, Derol felt his heart pounding as though it might leap out of his chest, his entire body trembling—never had he been this nervous, not even in the face of death on the battlefield.

The reason was simple: this was Derol's chance to take the final step—to rise from admiral to marshal, from marquis to duke.

Although Dolores's expression had been grim, Derol did not hesitate as he accepted the scepter of imperial military power from Ramp's hand.

Now, this goblin general raised his head, gazing at the skies, as if he envisioned the magnificent and imposing figure of the Red Dragon hovering above.

This battle, not only had to be won—it had to be exceptional. He needed to prove his worth to the Emperor and earn the blessing of the Great Red Dragon!

With that thought, Derol couldn't resist clenching his fists, the scarlet scales on the back of his hands clearly visible.

Lowering his head, Derol surveyed the scene, observing the high-spirited faces of the Empire's soldiers before slowly parting his lips—a speech that would reverberate to tens of thousands of ears via magical amplifiers.

"Soldiers of the Ashen Emperor, citizens of this glorious empire! Today, under the supreme decree of our Emperor, we gather here for a shared purpose—to fight for the Empire's grand ambition!"

Instantly, countless gazes shifted toward the Dragon Vein Goblin. Derol relished the admiration, basking in the waves of respect directed his way.

Drawing the golden saber at his side, he directed its flashing blade toward the distant Dwarf Fortress, roaring fiercely, "That fortress, Aivendel Dane, is the next target of the empire's conquest!

This fortress, hailed as the 'Unfallen City,' has endured countless assaults over millennia without ever succumbing.

But... we are the Ashen Empire! We are the children of the Ashen Emperor!"

To describe the nature of Red Dragons in two words: greed and arrogance. They are obsessed with collecting gold and other treasures, with a particular fondness for gems in red hues like rubies and fire opals. Sleeping amidst piles of precious coins, they arrange gemstones and glittering objects in prominent places for their own appreciation. Should anyone dare to steal their treasures, the dragon's wrath is ignited, driving them to hunt and kill the thief, or rampage through their domain, slaughtering creatures in their fury.

Red Dragons regard themselves as the pinnacle of dragonkin, looking down on all other beings—and even other Red Dragons. They shun authority beyond themselves, never seeking counsel from older dragons. They disdain the weak among their kind, often invading their fellow Red Dragons' nests and domains to steal treasures. Red Dragons exhibit a cruel fondness for their food, sometimes conversing with their prey before devouring it. Additionally, they detest damp environments. These traits are remarkably cat-like.

Red Dragons speak Draconic, their own language, as well as the shared language of the five-colored dragons. They can also speak Common Tongue with a resonant, metallic voice that commands attention. ※ Combat Abilities Red Dragons are practically born for battle, equipped to handle any challenge with ease. Offensively, their bite can pierce the toughest armor, their claws crush the strongest iron shields; defensively, their scales shield them from a myriad of assaults, repelling blades, swords, and spears with ease. When a Red Dragon roars, weaker creatures cower before its might, while the cone of flame it breathes embodies primal firepower capable of incinerating flesh and melting metal, obliterating entire armies in an instant. Besides this, Red Dragons can cast certain spells akin to those of a magician. Being fire-born creatures, they possess high fire resistance, even immunity to fire damage, but they are especially vulnerable to cold-based attacks.