radicalducati Page 128
Page 128
It did not disappoint. An elegant gray shadow leaped out of the mountains, quickly shimmering with dazzling golden light as it approached, stopping behind Hevilan and Azak. The "Nexus" of Larendran Maga had indeed left Klaus Valley, joining Hevilan and Azak in blocking Old Roar.
"You old miser," the old roar's voice turned flippant, "it's rare to see you actually willing to leave your pile of gold coins and jewels. What kind of profit could possibly entice a money-grubbing alchemist to come personally?"
"Klaus, your escape ends here." The golden dragon's voice was old and dry, unmoved by the insults and provocations—what dragon isn't stingy? Isn't being greedy for money a fine quality of dragons?
"Your actions have transcended the realm of ordinary crimes. You have challenged the balance of Faerûn and threatened countless innocent lives. As one of the guardians of the Golden Dragon Court, it is my duty to assist the Claws of Justice in bringing you to justice."
"That sounds nice, but you're just here to take revenge. What, did my breath burn you, or are you hiding some incredible treasure in that cave!"
"You dare bring this up again!" The enraged old golden dragon's scales exploded, and two unidentified, instant-cast eighth-ring spells attacked the old dragon from both sides.
Hevilan and Azak followed the Nexus's spellcasting and moved swiftly, riding the wind to block Old Howl's flanks and rear escape routes. More shadows leaped from the mountain peaks, and twelve silver dragon paladins of advanced age flew into the clouds, manipulating them to converge on the battlefield.
"Three against one, what a 'fair' battle." Old Roar let the Nexus's magic take shape, creating two chains to bind his wings, and then mocked, "I thought the female leader of the Claws of Justice would at least have some chivalry."
"You've long since relinquished your right to a fair fight, Klaus," Azak replied, closing in two steps. "From the moment you launched your mad attack on the Golden Dragon Royal Court, you should have known this day would come."
"An attack?" Old Roar threw his head back and laughed, his laughter filled with sarcasm. "What kind of attack is that, you silver dragon cub? You should ask your King of Justice and hear about my glorious deeds when you were still a dragon egg!"
"Enough, Klaus." Larendran Maga created two more force field walls to fill the gap in the encirclement, shouting hoarsely, "Only a dragon like you would consider such despicable acts of destruction and annihilation as glorious. You now have only two choices: either surrender and come with us to the Golden Dragon Royal Court to be judged by His Highness the Glorious Prince; or fight us now, but I don't think that would be a wise choice."
"Perhaps you are right, running away is indeed not a long-term solution." Old Roar's tone suddenly became unusually calm, and the sudden change made the three dragons slightly wary.
"But haven't you forgotten..." it continued, "that I could have avoided you beforehand?"
A blinding red light suddenly erupted from Old Roar's chest. The light scattered like blood-red lightning, forming a temporary sensory barrier that even the Primordial Golden Dragon could not escape at this distance.
"Don't be so boring next time we meet!"
Taking advantage of this brief interruption, Roar suddenly broke free of the magical chains and swooped down. At the same time, Wing Hook's wand unleashed a burst of rainbow light and lightning with a crackling effect, shattering the force field wall that was blocking him. He then split into four figures, which fled in different directions at high speed.
Hevilan was the first to break free from the perception barrier. She glanced at the four ancient red dragons flying in different directions and rode the wind to chase after the one heading towards Klaus Valley. Due to the effect of the perception barrier, Roar and the illusion had grown too far away for her to distinguish, so she could only guess at the most likely target.
Then, Larendran Maga also broke through the perception barrier, her slender body moving through the air, constructing a high-ring spell. Magical energy formed a golden net of light in the air, scattering towards the dragon shadow in the west. Thanks to the dispelling of the spell, Azak also regained his senses, looking somewhat bewildered at the lord and the golden dragon chasing in different directions.
"It's escaping!" Hevilan's roar echoed through the sky. "Azak, you pursue the phantom in the north! Paladins, you follow it from above the clouds to the south! Remember, never get close to it!"
Upon hearing this, Azak finally sprang into action, riding the wind northwards. The silver dragons, having received their orders, quickly adjusted their formation, forming a massive encircling net towards the south.
But the old roar was unexpectedly fast. It had clearly used some kind of magical buff that could greatly increase its flight speed in a short period of time, allowing it to even surpass the silver dragon in a short sprint.
The time it took for the silver dragon to catch up was extended—but it was merely a delay.
In less than five minutes, the flight speed of the four dragon shadows decreased sharply, and the magic released by the silver dragon and the gold dragon that followed finally began to close the distance with their targets.
Thirteen minutes later, Hevilan approached within a hundred meters of the dragon's shadow fleeing towards Klaus Valley. Without hesitation, she unleashed a spherical frost breath. The ice ball, like a bullet, created an umbrella-shaped cloud of condensation, broke the sound barrier, struck the ancient red dragon's figure, and then passed through it without any hindrance.
The Lord of the Claws of Justice let out a slightly unwilling hiss and abruptly turned and flew south.
In the sixteenth minute, the Nexus's golden net enveloped the dragon's shadow hurtling westward, and then the incredibly realistic ancient red dragon's body vanished as a transparent phantom. The Nexus uttered a dry curse and swam northward.
Then, Azak's Barrel Roll Wing Slash shattered the third phantom, and Hevilan stopped several kilometers away from the fleeing dragon shadow.
The power of the illusion was fading, and the body of the fleeing ancient red dragon had become illusory on its own.
"By Asgrass, we've been tricked again!" Azak roared. "Is this thing a green dragon or a red dragon?"
"Perhaps it's a red dragon with a green dragon soul," the Nexus sighed. "If it didn't occasionally go berserk and launch indiscriminate attacks, I would also think it's a green dragon wearing a red dragon's skin..."
At this moment, the old roar's true form was holding the ice ball spat out by Haiweilan, smashing through a mountain peak blocking its way, and arriving at the entrance of Klaus Valley—Haiweilan guessed its true escape direction correctly, but she did not expect that it was actually hiding in front of the phantom, making the phantom a cover that interfered with perception.
If Haivilan had chased after it for a few dozen meters longer, she would have noticed the strange trajectory change that occurred after her breath puck pierced through the illusion.
Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs." With the combined deduction of Grommash Hellscream's prophecy spell and Casalos's true form (the pseudo-Lapras demon), this was an inevitable outcome.
Hevilan could not allow the other silver dragons of Claw of Justice to continue tracking Roar for an extended period. If the illusion was real, and the illusions in the other three directions were confirmed to be false, Roar of Justice would likely launch a surprise attack on the silver dragon horde. Claw of Justice could not afford such losses, and the nature of the silver dragons would not allow her to place her followers in such an irresistible danger.
Having safely arrived at Klaus Valley, Old Roar did not hesitate for a moment, shaking off the ice ball spat out by Hevilan and rushing into the depths of his true lair.
The hidden lair remained as tidy as it had been months ago, a testament to Serendella's skill, including the psionic energy that concealed the lair's entrance. The crystal dragon lay quietly on a smooth rock, perusing a magical scroll retrieved from Old Howl's vault.
Seeing Old Roar suddenly rush in, she immediately raised her head, fear and cowardice flashing in her dragon eyes, and her body involuntarily took two steps back. But before she could speak, the roars of Hevilan and Azak, as well as the powerful magical fluctuations of Larendran Maga, echoed from outside the cave.
Clearly, no matter how much they schemed, they couldn't delay these people for long. The Nexus's spellcasting level of nearly 30 was enough to prevent Grommash from using decoys and illusions to escape completely. Once the interference was eliminated and its true location was confirmed, the Nexus could easily teleport all the participants to its vicinity, just like it is now.
"Go!" Casalos commanded sharply, without any explanation, and charged directly into the deeper space of the lair.
Before the Crystal Dragon could even process her own thoughts, her body instinctively followed. Obeying Grommash Hellscream's commands had gradually become an instinct for her. But she had no choice, because she knew her predicament—disobeying Grommash Hellscream meant the annihilation of the Mibara dwarves. This threat constantly hung over her head, becoming Grommash Hellscream's most effective tool for controlling her.
Leading the crystal dragon, they entered a seemingly ordinary wall on the side of the treasure vault. The old man roared and breathed out a small dragon breath, revealing a hidden magic circle that absorbed the energy of the dragon breath. The wall immediately disappeared, revealing a hidden space with a peculiar crystal tabletop.
The surface of the platform was covered with complex arcane runes that were different from those of this era and even from the entire Faerûn magical system. They were slowly rotating and releasing a faint aura.
"They're coming!" Old Roar growled hoarsely, lunging onto the platform as his tail coiled tightly around Serendella's neck.
Crystal Dragon could feel the constricting force from Roar's tail, but she didn't resist. She simply followed the cunning ancient red dragon with a blank, worried, and sorrowful expression. She didn't even know where they were going or what they were going to do, but from Roar's hurried movements, she could guess that this was an escape.
An unusual sense of joy even welled up inside her: this ancient red dragon hadn't forgotten her even while it was on the run.
Suddenly, the entire room was illuminated by a blinding blue light. The platform instantly came alive, runes began to spin rapidly, releasing powerful fluctuations that distorted the surroundings into a dazzling and warped area.
At the same time, Larendran Maga's roar came from the cave entrance: "Klaus! Whatever you're doing, stop right now!"
The golden dragon's voice was also distorted and stretched into discontinuous noise, like ripples of mercury engulfing Old Roar and Serendella.
Hevilan, Azak, and Larendran Maga broke into the Red Dragon Vault, which had all its defenses removed. They saw a silver mirror flash violently a few times before disappearing completely in a burst of light, leaving only a spherical underground cavity.
"Where did it escape to?" Looking at the unprecedented violent teleportation traces that had taken away the surrounding objects, Haiweilan asked the Golden Dragon Sorcerer.
The hub slowly closed its eyes, sat upright on the ground, and folded its sail-like wings behind it as if sensing something. A moment later, it opened its eyes and sighed dryly. (The remaining text appears to be nonsensical and unrelated to the previous sentence.)
"Beyond Toril, it could be some Prime Material Plane, or some Outer Plane," Larendran Maga's voice was heavy. "This isn't traditional interdimensional teleportation; it didn't go through an astral plane, but went directly to another distant realm. Even I can't track its trajectory. It has temporarily escaped our pursuit."
"So we're just giving up like this?" Azak asked, his voice filled with resentment. "It's been escaping for so many years, and now it's gone again!"
"No," the golden dragon's voice suddenly hardened, "we need to return to the Golden Dragon Royal Court to discuss this. This is no longer just about capturing an evil red dragon. Klaus has displayed abilities and knowledge far exceeding those of ordinary ancient red dragons; I suspect there may be a deeper conspiracy behind this. We need His Highness's instructions… not just Lares, but there are some things I may need to consult Palotanser about."
Hevilan nodded, her gaze sweeping over the various items in the vault. "We should search this place; perhaps we can find some clues about where it escaped to and what it's planning."
"Agreed," said Larendran Maga. "Pay special attention to items related to spatial magic. That interdimensional teleportation ability just now was very likely the power of some kind of divine artifact!"
19. The New World
Under an olive-colored sky, Roar Casalos sat atop a prominent rock, his crimson dragon body blending seamlessly into the scarlet desert. The deep red sun shone upon his massive form, his scales gleaming with a metallic sheen in the scorching sunlight.
All around was an endless desert, with lifeless salt flats and rugged wasteland forming the basic landscape of this otherworld. The temperature reached over fifty degrees Celsius, and even the red dragon, accustomed to fire, felt a slight discomfort, not from the heat, but from the rapid loss of body moisture caused by extreme dryness.
It's quite bizarre that even powerful ancient dragons cannot escape the constraints of their natural environment that clash with their own physiology—ancient red dragon can drown or die of thirst, while green dragons can swim freely underwater, and blue dragons can live in the desert for a long time.
"Looks like we jumped a bit too far." Old Roar exhaled a puff of hot air from his nostrils as he looked around at the desolate landscape.
Celine Della lay prone on a black rock not far away, trying to escape the intense sunlight. The crystal dragon's crystalline scales reflected a rainbow of colors in the sun, but the shimmer gradually dimmed. The moisture seeping from the gaps in the scales evaporated into a white mist, then was distorted by psionic energy into a glassy state that was both solid and liquid, locking in the moisture in her body. Even so, she struggled to curl up, minimizing her exposed surface area, her wings half-open, casting a small patch of shadow for herself to combat the uncomfortable environment.
"Where am I?" she asked weakly. "I've never seen such a...desolate place."
The old roar didn't answer immediately. It stretched out its dragon wings and extended its forepaws to touch the sand of this world. Coarse sand rolled over its claws, mixed with tiny salt crystals, shimmering like shards of glass. Arcane energy seeped from its claw tips, attempting to sense the state of the magical network in this world.
"Strange..." Longyan narrowed slightly, "There's no magic network here, absolutely none."
The crystal dragon looked up in surprise, her transparent scales suddenly shimmering abnormally, her eyes becoming focused and sharp. "I sense... a certain power flowing around us, like whispers of the mind." Her tone grew increasingly certain. "It's psionic energy, this world is filled with psionic energy!"
Old Roar looked at her curiously: "Psionic power? How strong is it?"
"Extremely active." Serendella closed her eyes, sensing the flow of energy around her. "Even those..." She pointed to tiny dots moving rapidly among the distant hills, "those little creatures, are shimmering with the light of spiritual power."
Following her gaze, Old Roar saw several small, sand-colored reptiles darting among the dunes, their bodies only as long as a dwarf's beard. "You mean, these insignificant little creatures possess psionic abilities?"
"Yes, each one emits a faint but undeniable fluctuation of psionic energy," Serendella explained. "Even those seemingly ordinary sand lizards in the distance possess level one or two psionic energy! Such prevalence is unimaginable in Faerûn."
Old Roar nodded, its dragon claws carving deep furrows in the sand as it silently considered the possibilities of this world. The attempt to traverse this other world had gone more smoothly than expected. Although the destination was somewhat unexpected, it was precisely this "unexpected" turn of events that allowed it to completely shake off the Golden Dragon Royal Court's pursuers. (The last two lines appear to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated text: "Mei is here, you are free, Lin is here, are you...")
"Let me try..." Grommash concentrated, attempting to channel arcane energy into a simple spell. It felt the magic flowing within it, but couldn't guide it into a spellcasting structure as easily as it had in Faerûn. The power was bound by some more fundamental and primal rule, and ultimately, it had to channel the energy in a more primitive way.
As the old roar cast its spell, a black shadow began to spread from the ground around it, and the nearby sand lizards suddenly stopped moving, as if frozen in place. A glint of excitement flashed in the old roar's eyes, for it clearly felt its spell directly drawing life energy from these small creatures and even the environment. The instant the spell was completed, the sand lizards turned into shriveled corpses, and the sand became even drier, even developing several small cracks.
"Brilliant!" Old Roar observed the changes in the surrounding environment with satisfaction. "Without the magic network, magic lies dormant within life. Using arcane magic to manipulate them means drawing life force from the body."
A dangerous glint flashed in the ancient red dragon's lava-like eyes. "Not only from the caster, but also from the surrounding environment. This is truly...convenient."
The Crystal Dragon looked at the sand lizards that withered instantly, then at the increasingly barren land around her, and suddenly understood something: "This method of casting spells... is the desolation of this world due to the excessive demands of the spellcaster?"
"Perhaps." Old Hou gave her an approving look. "Not bad reasoning, but unfortunately it's meaningless. I'm not a historian, and I have even less interest in the history of other worlds."
It stood up, spread its enormous wings, and looked down upon this desolate land. In the distance, broken ruins dotted the scorching desert, ancient bridges spanned dried-up riverbeds, and the ruins of empty stone wharves stretched towards the area that was once the sea, now only a salt flat. This world had clearly once possessed a thriving civilization and abundant water resources, but now only decay and desolation remained.
As the sun gradually sank in the west, the temperature began to drop, the olive sky turned deep purple, and night fell much faster than in Faerûn. Old Roar was very pleased with this transformation, its eyes gleaming with ambition and anticipation.
"A world of fire and sand, a dying world, a world filled with blasphemous power, a cruel world..." Its deep voice held a strange excitement. "I love it here."
Serendella shook off the sand and dust from her wings. Unlike Grommash Hellscream, she didn't seem to enjoy the dry, hot environment. However, as one of the Gem Dragons, she was knowledgeable and experienced in exploring other worlds. "How long are we going to stay here? Until we shake off those pursuers, or wait for you to find enough resources to teleport again..."
"Teleport again? Resources?" Old Roar let out a short, cold laugh. "This world is a treasure trove. I prefer this kind to Faerûn. I'm going to build my own power here, a trans-realm... empire. What an exciting achievement for a dragon!"
The crystal dragon looked at it: "Establish...an empire? But there seems to be almost no civilization here. We don't even know the situation or distribution of the local inhabitants, let alone their customs and social structure."
The old roar used its tail to pull the crystal dragon under its massive body, pinning her down: "So we need to understand this world first. Night will fall soon, let's relax for a bit, and then explore our surroundings using the darkness once night descends. The desert should get extremely cold at night, possibly even dropping to freezing, but that won't be a problem for us..."
The Crystal Dragon could only pant involuntarily with each collision, daring not to utter a single comment. She could sense the old roar's current pleasure, and keeping silent was the wisest choice, matching its actions. As the dragon wished, the night sky, which had enveloped the heavens and earth, pressed down with the tremors of the ground.
"fly."
With its dark red wings spread, the satisfied old dragon slowly rose into the air, its height not exceeding a hundred meters—enough to survey the surrounding terrain without attracting too much attention. The crystal dragon also spread its wings and followed. The two dragons glided through the night sky, beginning their first exploration of this unfamiliar world.
The stars in the sky were exceptionally bright, their arrangement completely different from that of Faerûn, like a strange and mysterious tapestry. The old dragon carefully observed the terrain below, searching for possible water sources or settlements. The two dragons silently traversed one barren desert after another, soon finding traces of intelligent life and witnessing the cruelty of this world's "civilization."
The first thing that catches the eye is a dried-up riverbed, which from a distance looks like a brown scar across the earth. On both sides of the riverbed, dozens of corpses are impaled on wooden stakes and hung high. Most of these corpses are just skin and bones, their withered skin scorched dark brown by the sun and clinging tightly to the protruding bones. The palms, collarbones, and ankles of each corpse are pierced by thick wooden nails, the blood long since dried, forming dark brown marks that spread from the nail holes and are stained by the oil that seeped from the skin. Most horrifyingly, the expressions of these corpses are frozen in a contorted state of extreme pain, proving that they were sunburnt to death before finally dying.
"This is how you punish those who are late." The invisible servant held a crystal ball suspended beside the old dragon's head. Prophecy magic created a deathly scar in the air, and the drained life force recreated the scene before the horde of corpses within the crystal ball. The ancient red dragon's tone was full of admiration. "In a world where water is scarce, wasting time is wasting life. Look at those corpses; they were slaves responsible for fetching water, punished for returning late."
In an area of black rock, dozens of figures, heads exposed, lay neatly arranged on the ground. These people were buried in the sand, only their skulls visible above the surface. Around each head crawled lizards covered in black armor, methodically gnawing at the scalps, eyebrows, ears, and even eyelids of these living people. The screams of the victims rose and fell, some already hoarse, others just beginning, indicating that this cruel method of execution was being carried out in batches.
Surrounding the group of tortured people stood a ring of well-equipped guards. The armor was made of animal hides or chitinous carapaces of unknown creatures, and the weapons were mostly made of obsidian and bone, but the processing technology was clearly not something that could be achieved in the Stone Age, which meant that this world—or just this region—was extremely poor in metal resources.
Several elegantly dressed spectators stood nearby, holding torches that cast flickering light on the execution ground. They occasionally offered comments and gestures, as if they were watching a meticulously planned performance.
"A typical noble punishment," Old Roar commented. Perhaps wanting to avoid attention, it didn't use its divination to investigate the details of the incident, but merely guessed wildly: "Those were probably commoners trying to steal water. The guards watching over them were wearing uniform armor, proving this was an official punishment from some powerful faction."
After flying west for a short while, the two dragons discovered a small settlement enclosed by stone walls. In the center of the settlement was a pool, and the surrounding buildings were arranged in a strict stepped pattern. The lowest level consisted of simple mud-brick huts inhabited by poorly clothed slaves; the middle level consisted of slightly larger stone houses inhabited by ordinary residents; and at the very top was a small palace decorated with stained glass and bone ornaments.
The order within the settlement was suffocatingly rigid. Slaves had to crawl on their knees when queuing for water rations, their eyes daring not to look up; ordinary residents bowed with precise angles, as if measured with precision; and when the ruler's carriage passed by, everyone had to lie face down on the ground. Anyone who violated the rules was immediately whipped, suffering lacerations at best, and execution on the spot at worst.
"Do you see that?" Old Roar pointed to a clearing at the edge of the settlement. "This is the order of this world."
In that open space, a public execution was taking place. A man accused of hoarding a small piece of pyrite was being forced to have his skin peeled off by his own hands by his companions, who could also be family or friends. Under the watchful eyes of guards, they peeled off the man's skin inch by inch, the victim's screams echoing in the night. Once the skin was completely removed, the mangled body was thrown into a pit as small as an anthill. Instantly, countless tiny silver specks emerged from the pit, covering the crimson corpse.
"The Ant-Eating Torture." Old Roar's tone became even more lively. "A very creative idea. These little things need several days to devour the entire flesh and blood of an adult. However, the people of this world, enhanced by psionic energy, are much stronger than the malnourished poor of Faerûn. They can live for a long time... This is probably one of the most painful ways to die in this world."
The Crystal Dragon's wings visibly trembled, but she didn't utter a sound, simply continuing to silently follow behind Old Roar.
After flying for about two hours, they spotted a faintly glowing oasis in the distance. But it was far from peaceful—the sounds of battle and the clanging of nonmetallic weapons could be heard even from several kilometers away.
"Go down," Old Roar commanded, but stopped just before reaching the oasis. "See what they're up to now."
The two dragons hid behind a sand dune. The crystal dragon, understanding the situation, used its psionic energy to cast an invisibility spell on the old man, allowing him to observe the ongoing tribal war undisturbed. On the battlefield were two distinctly different tribes. One side consisted of tall, burly warriors with dark brown skin, adorned with bone ornaments on their heads, wielding crude but effective stone and bone weapons. The other side was smaller and more slender, but their equipment was noticeably superior, using short, sharp bronze weapons and wearing leather armor.
Battles, like any other battle in this world, are devoid of chivalry or honor. Victory lies not in skillful maneuvering, but in pure violence and ruthlessness. Warriors from the larger tribes excel at ambushing from behind, or ganging up on an opponent in groups of three or four, smashing them into a pulp with massive blunt weapons; while the smaller tribes prefer to use hidden weapons and poison. A large warrior struck by a dart tumbles and convulses on the ground, foaming at the mouth, dark red blood oozing from his eyes and ears, before quickly falling still.
But what shocked the dragon even more was the way the two tribes treated the wounded and prisoners.
There was no medical care or assistance for their comrades, no pity for those who surrendered, only cruel treatment.
The larger tribes would immediately behead their wounded comrades and hold the heads high to inspire other warriors; the smaller tribes would use whatever was available, digging out the internal organs of their wounded comrades and enemies to perform some kind of ritual, seemingly to draw upon their "power," creating a deadly poison that would kill on sight.
As the battle progressed, the numerical advantage of the larger tribes became increasingly apparent. The smaller tribes began to retreat, but the larger tribes pursued relentlessly and quickly surrounded them. Ultimately, the smaller tribes surrendered, but this did not signify the end; rather, it marked the beginning of an even crueler fate.
The victorious, large tribe began to categorize the captives. Young, strong men were bound with thick ropes and lined up in long rows. Overseers branded each person with different marks using burning sticks: water basins, stones, flames… presumably corresponding to future enslaved work: water collectors, diggers, and so on. Those with relatively smooth skin and well-proportioned or plump figures were the most unfortunate. They were marked with chunks of flesh; clearly, their new identity was "meat reserves."
The female prisoners were dragged to the other side, and the victors blatantly tore their clothes apart, examined their physical condition, and roughly inspected their hair, teeth, muscles, and lower bodies. Then, like livestock, they selected the "qualified" ones to take away, while the "unqualified" ones were thrown into the pile of "pieces of flesh."
The most tragic victims were the elderly and the infirm. They were dragged aside, pushed one by one into the sandpit, and buried alive. Several elderly people tried to resist, but were met with even crueler treatment—their eyes were gouged out, their tongues cut off, their limbs broken, before they were thrown into the sandpit.
The kind-hearted Crystal Dragon couldn't bear to witness all of this, but she dared not look away for fear of provoking Old Roar's reaction. She could only observe silently, her fear and hatred growing ever stronger.
"I see it clearly now." Old Roar's tone became satisfied. "This is the truth of this world: the strong rule everything, and the weak don't even have the right to survive. There are no gods, no good or evil, only the most primitive law of the jungle..."
"This..." Crystal Dragon was about to speak, but immediately fell silent, unsure whether he was allowed to express his opinion.
Old Roar didn't urge her, but continued to observe the scene in the oasis. After classifying the prisoners, the victorious tribe began to count the spoils. Water and food were naturally the most valuable, but weapons and equipment were equally precious. The distribution process was strictly according to rank—the chief received the best items, followed by his personal guards and generals, and then the ordinary soldiers, who could only receive scraps and fragments.
This hierarchical system was extremely harsh. During the distribution process, a soldier was immediately impaled in the throat by a spear for touching an unassigned item. No one defended him, no one even glanced at him. His body was dragged away and thrown into a sandpit where the old and weak were also buried.
"What pure order," Old Roar whispered. "No superfluous moral constraints, no hypocritical pity, everything is based on power and brutal reality."
The Crystal Dragon's cloaking barrier trembled due to the change in the mind's perception. The leader of the Victory Tribe immediately sensed something, stood up abruptly, pointed in the direction of their hiding place, and shouted something. Several warriors immediately picked up their weapons and moved towards the sand dune.
"It's time to make our appearance." Old Roar shook his head, then leaped into the air, his massive body displaying a terrifying silhouette against the night sky.