Under the Red Dragon

The ogre camp, after the ravages of the red dragon and centaurs, finally returned to its former tranquility, except for the traces of buildings burned to ashes by the unextinguished dragon fire and the corpses scattered everywhere.

The bodies of the dead ogres and torn centaurs were piled together. These ogres had not abandoned the customs inherited from ancient times. They were still on the edge of civilization's ignorance, which the ogre titan Fafnir could not reverse in just a few decades. Therefore, these corpses would become food for the ogres.

They would always make the most of every usable resource, which was perhaps the only thing that could be considered a merit of the ogres.

As for Molgog, who had tracked the red dragon alone, even the awakened ogre titan did not worry about this ogre at all. Even though Fafnir looked down on this ogre, she had to admit the tyrannical ogre's great power. Long ago, the leader of the centaur tribe was torn in half by the brutal ogre tyrant in the midst of the centaur encirclement.

These ogres were still dreaming that Molgog could drag back the red dragon's corpse, so they could get a share. These ogres had tasted everything in this forest, except for the taste of dragon flesh and blood.

That red dragon was so strong and mighty. Eating it might allow the warriors in the tribe to grow a second head. The warriors who had drunk their fill of dragon blood might also awaken the great bloodline of their ancestors like the ogre tyrant Molgog and become controllers in the ogre tribe. Thinking about it was really making some ogres greedy.

But when the figure of the red dragon soared over the ogre camp, all the ogres had a strong question in their hearts, "The red dragon is back, so where is Molgog?"

The ogre titan was no longer calm. How could that red dragon return? Molgog was not only the most powerful in the ogre tribe, but also the best at tracking prey. The prey he targeted had never escaped the punishment of his giant axe. Maybe Molgog was behind the red dragon, and he would be back soon.

Molgog is back! The ogre tyrant's huge head, with its eyes burned by dragon fire, was thrown from the air by the roaring red dragon. The steel-hard skull slammed heavily into the center of the ogre camp, stirring up dust.

Molgog's unique powerful and unwilling aura, even in death, emanated from his ferocious head. Even Fafnir, the ogre titan with an exceptionally strong spirit, couldn't help but feel an absurd and strange sense of panic from the depths of her heart. Perhaps the end of the ogre tribe was today.

The raging dragon fire spread again in the ogre tribe shrouded in fear. Those strong ogre warriors in the forest were chased by the centaurs they had previously despised.

They forgot that they were holding weapons far more sophisticated and sharper than the bone spears and wooden spears, and forgot that the leather armor they were wearing was far more durable than the animal skins worn by the enemy. They only cared about howling and fleeing like the prey that ran away under their power.

The centaur tribe's warriors had never been so happy as they were today. The galloping hooves drove the tough hunting guns in their hands, casually piercing the enemy's body. The enemy didn't even dare to resist.

The strong centaur Drogo rushed to the front, and his long hunting gun pierced through two ogres who were only focused on fleeing. He didn't even have time to pull out the hunting gun before he crashed into the third ogre. The tip of the gun, only half an inch long, pierced through the bodies of the two ogres and pierced into the enemy's heart.

Drogo pushed forward, leaving his weapon in the ogre's body, picked up the iron spears dropped by the ogres, and killed forward. Behind him were Oni and Kali, who had also changed their weapons. The three most powerful warriors led the elite centaurs, their hooves treading blood, turning the ogre camp into a human blood domain.

Calron did not waste time chasing those ogres who had lost their souls. After setting off dragon fire around the camp, he let the unextinguished dragon fire ignite every corner of the ogre camp.

Then he folded his wings and landed. Although the dragon could still fly with the support of magic, the loss of half of its wing made it difficult for the red dragon to flexibly control its direction and speed during flight.

He walked to the white dragon and blue dragon, who had already been released by the centaurs. The two dragons, who had been tortured a lot, looked quite tired, but their eyes lit up when they saw the arrival of the red dragon.

"I knew you would come and rescue us, Calron," the white dragon Germot struggled forward excitedly. After being fed several pounds of poison a day, even the dragon's body was exhausted and weak at this moment.

The white dragon crawled to Calron and looked up at the quiet red dragon. The timid and weak white dragon was not disappointed. Calron still protected him, just like he used to take care of the dragon group.

"I didn't betray you according to the ogres' demands," the white dragon was like a child who needed to be praised. "Kalit betrayed the dragon group. You have to be careful, Calron."

The red dragon did not speak, but lowered his head and used his intact and movable right claw to help the white dragon up. Then he gently touched the white dragon's forehead with his head, and then gently touched the head of Akz, who was next to him and was ashamed to ask for credit because he was already a young dragon.

The red dragon then opened his mouth and said, "Germot, you are very brave and you have done very well. I can't ask for more. And Akz, you are all part of the dragon group and my brothers. I will not abandon you. As for Kalit, she made her own choice, and she will naturally bear the consequences herself."

Calron raised his head and pointed to the remaining ogres who were gathering around the ogre titan and stubbornly resisting, and said, "Come on, follow me and see how I crush those enemies who dare to actively invade the dragon group and bring the flames of revenge and blood to this land."

Fafnir was surrounded by the remaining ogres who had not fled into the forest in front of the tent. The almost transparent veil could not cover her tempting body. She tilted her ears and listened to the voices of the forest banshees chirping on her arms. That was the message that the ogre two-headed wizard Sahei passed to her through other banshees. She knew she might have another chance.

Fafnir could escape into the forest like the other ogres who had fled, but if she did, the ogres would never be able to stand up again and would only be reduced to wandering tribes like other weak tribes. This was something that the ambitious Fafnir could not tolerate.

Moreover, she believed in the bloodline she inherited from the ancient Soul-Eating Siren. As long as she could control this red dragon, then everything would be reversed, and the ogre tribe would be stronger than ever before. The potential of the dragon was far beyond what that stupid ogre tyrant could compare to.

The message from the ogre wizard Sahei further strengthened her determination, so she raised her arm, which reflected jade light in the sun, and shouted, "We surrender. The ogre tribe is willing to submit to the powerful dragon."