Chapter 37: Covenant Gathering
The Lizardfolk spoke Dragon Tongue—something they claimed had been taught to them by ancient Dragons. Tribes dwelling within Dragonhold typically offered Tribute to dragons in hopes of gaining their favor. And yet, evil dragons often exploited the Lizardfolk, twisting them into raiders and marauders to serve their wicked ends.
It was this very history that led the Old Shaman, drawing upon his ancestral Heritage, to make a judgment that might just be correct.
"Let us hope so," he murmured.
"I only wish to lead my people... to survive."
Ake stood silently, watching the valley slowly fill to the brim. Without a word, he guided his tribe toward a quieter, more secluded corner. The previous cave had already cost them over twenty lives—devoured by the monsters lurking in the dark. They could not afford another loss.
"It shall be as you wish," the Old Shaman said, his gaze steady on the flickering Familiars darting through the air.
Unlike races born with inherent evil, these Lizardfolk were more akin to cold-blooded reptiles. They lacked traditional moral codes, viewing good and evil as foreign constructs—concepts imposed from outside. They were truly neutral, existing in absolute balance. Yet, when survival demanded it, they would unleash massacre without hesitation, sacrificing everything to endure.
The争夺 for position continued.
"Roar—roar—!"
Twelve two-headed dragons descended with thunderous might, claiming the largest, most open rock in the valley. Goblins and Goblinoids scattered in panic, fearful of being crushed beneath the massive, unwieldy beasts—death would come instantly.
But then, a far louder roar echoed from above.
The Chimera—undoubtedly the war’s undisputed hero—arrived despite his wounds, his aura blazing with fury. He drove the two-headed dragons away with a single, commanding presence, claiming a vast stretch of open ground for himself. No one dared approach.
"Idiotic beast," Lanpu muttered from the front, adjusting his oversized silver-rimmed glasses with deliberate flair, his tone dripping with condescension.
Yet, as the elder of the valley and Head Steward of Ashen Hollow—indeed, one of the few Spellcasters among them—he had every right to such arrogance.
"Just so," another voice chimed in.
"Who doesn’t know you’re the master’s true confidant?"
Jinya, a Goblinoid barely taller than a child, squeezed through the crowd, grinning widely as he flattered Lanpu. His small frame seemed even more hunched beneath the towering three-meter Ogre beside him.
After nearly getting himself killed during his last encounter with Great Goblin Dolo, Jinya had sworn to latch onto this Cannibal Magician’s leg. Only by clinging to Lanpu’s favor could he maintain his shaky status among the Nest and keep up with the Goblins.
Lanpu gave a cold, dismissive grunt—though inside, he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Boss," a deep voice boomed. "I’m starving."
"Is the master gonna hand out meat?"
"Called so many Goblins here—surely we’re allowed to eat Goblin flesh now?"
The Ogres spoke without restraint, their loud chatter making nearby Goblins flinch and inch away, some even considering fleeing to report the incident to Dolo.
Lanpu’s face darkened instantly. He raised his club and brought it down hard on the head of the Ogre—Daitou—who rubbed his skull, face full of wounded innocence.
"Food, food, food!" Lanpu snapped. "All you ever think about is eating!"
He turned to the rest of the Ogres, grabbed a stick, and drew a crude outline of a Goblin in the dirt. Then, beside it, he wrote a Common Tongue word—"Comrade."
"Come on," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "Say it with me—Comrade."
"Food!" the Ogres roared in unison.
Lanpu’s smile froze. His knuckles turned white around the stick, veins bulging beneath his skin.
Even after months of living together, the Goblins watching from the sidelines trembled in fear, desperate to vanish before any of these brutes decided to make good on their promise.
Nearby, Great Goblin Dolo stood silently, his yellow eyes narrowing as he watched Lanpu reprimand the Ogres. A flicker of resentment flashed in his gaze—that Ogre had caused him embarrassment before, undermining him in front of the master.
"Look at these Ogres," Dolo said casually to the Bear Goliath beside him, arms crossed. "Can you believe their minds are filled with nothing but food? How can such creatures possibly manage Ashen Hollow?"
His voice was low, but clear—every word carried.
The Ogres didn’t understand the language, but they sensed the mockery. Growls erupted from their throats. Clubs raised. They surged forward, forming a wall of muscle and rage.
"Roar! Roar!"
"Want to become a snack, little Goblin?"
Two massive Bear Goliaths stepped in front of Dolo, their bodies thick and powerful—though not as tall as the Ogres, they were far more disciplined and battle-hardened. Even the ordinary Goblins, trembling with fear, dared to stand a little taller, joining the show of resistance.
"What is this?" the Cannibal Magician snarled, his gaze sweeping over the gathered Ogres. "Dolo, the master himself called this Gathering. If you dare stir trouble here—your fate is already written."
The words sounded like warning, but to Dolo, they were venomous insult.
His face flushed crimson. "Lanpu… what are you implying?"
Lanpu looked down at him, cold and unyielding. "This is the master’s summons. If you start trouble—you know what happens."
"Hmph. We’ll see," Dolo spat. He turned sharply, signaling his followers. "Let’s go."
With a final glare, he marched away, leaving the valley’s edge.
Dolo’s expression was grim. He hadn’t meant to provoke a confrontation at such a crucial gathering—only to needle Lanpu, to chip away at his authority. But now, he’d lost face. He’d been the one to retreat.
Jinya and a few other Goblinoids scurried back to Lanpu’s side, their grins wider than ever.
"Such crude Goblins," Jinya gushed. "How could they ever compare to your wisdom?"
Seeing the Goblins humiliated, the Goblinoids couldn’t help but cheer inwardly.
Then—
"ROOOOAAARRR—!"
A deep, echoing, awe-inspiring Long Roar split the sky.
Instantly, every monster in the valley—whether arguing, screaming, fighting, or snarling—froze mid-motion. All eyes lifted to the heavens.
Silence fell over the valley. The chaos ceased.
From above, the Red Dragon descended, wings unfurling like storm clouds. It landed atop the highest cliff, its shadow spreading across the ground, swallowing the gathered followers beneath its vast form.
—The master of this Gathering had arrived.
(End of Chapter)
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