chsdbacks Page 127
Page 127
The merchants of Luscany were even more pragmatic than the goddess of wealth, Woking; they cared only for their own pockets and goods. The Harvest Valley granaries in the Lake District survived the disaster, but the vast quantities of food stored there were blocked by the merchants, who refused to distribute them to the disaster victims under the pretext of "ensuring price stability." Food prices surged twenty-sixfold in two weeks, making them unaffordable for ordinary residents. Some merchants even secretly hoarded large quantities of daily necessities and emergency supplies, refusing donations from the Temple of Benevolence, waiting for prices to reach their peak before selling them.
They will never understand that it is not they who feed the vast majority of the poor, but rather those who are worse than cattle and horses who have earned their immense wealth through their hard work and sweat.
Faced with such indiscriminate natural disasters, the wealth they hold so tightly in their belts will soon vanish like a bubble due to the loss of its foundation—even though Faylen does not yet have a financial industry.
The Luscan city guard is now severely weakened; a third of the guards have died or gone missing in the disaster, and the remaining personnel are struggling to maintain basic order in the city. Theft and robbery have surged, and civilians dare not walk alone on the streets even in broad daylight. Roads between city districts are blocked by damaged buildings and debris, making rescue and supply transport extremely difficult.
Worse still, the political situation in Luskan is deteriorating. Competition between the major merchant guilds has escalated from the business arena to armed conflict, with private mercenaries patrolling the city to protect the interests of their respective employers. The city council has been unable to reach any effective reconstruction resolutions for two weeks, and members of the Arcane Brotherhood are hampered by the vested interests behind them, preventing them from forming a united front.
If this situation continues, Luscan will have to declare "bankruptcy" in less than two years.
A strong and decisive leader could have turned this around, but Luscan currently lacks such a figure. If this situation continues, this once-prosperous trading center will soon decline.
"How pathetic." Shifting his gaze to Neverwinter City, Iron Dragon shook his head slightly.
Neverwinter, which maintained a steadfast alliance with Waterdeep on the front lines against the orcs, suffered a tsunami that was not much less severe than that of Waterdeep, and its current situation is even more dire.
This city, nestled among forests and rivers, was first ravaged by the chaotic magic of overly large and active living plants. The northern and eastern parts of the city were almost entirely covered by wildly growing vines and trees. These plants absorbed uncontrolled magic during the turmoil, becoming aggressive and invasive. Many residents were strangled in their sleep by vines that crawled into their homes, and many more were forced to abandon their homes and flee to the city center.
The city's druids attempted to control the living plants, only to find they refused to respond to any attempts at appeasement. Forced to establish a perimeter, they barely maintained a boundary with the plant-filled areas using magic circles and fire. This reduced the city's usable area by nearly three-fifths, forcing residents to crammed into the remaining space.
A city that was almost overrun by its own greenbelt... well, hard to say.
In the aftermath of the tsunami, Neverwinter's situation worsened. The city's sturdy, enclosed walled city, originally designed to defend against orcish attacks, became a dam preventing the backflow of seawater brought by the tsunami, leaving the entire city still partially submerged. The streets of the South and West districts were completely flooded, with water depths exceeding two meters. The renowned Sword Coast Arena had become an artificial lake, freeing the aquatic magical beasts that had once been tamed within, allowing them to roam freely through the complex waterways created by the streets, hunting any living creature. Residents were forced to build temporary shelters on rooftops or construct makeshift aerial passages between buildings using planks and ropes.
The most serious consequence of the persistent flooding was the collapse of the sanitation system. The city's sewers were clogged with silt and debris, preventing sewage from draining and mixing with the floodwater to create foul-smelling black water. Spontaneous plagues began to spread throughout the city, especially in densely populated refugee areas. The city's temple healers worked day and night, yet they were still unable to control the spread of the disease. Dozens of people fell ill every day, and medical resources were severely strained.
Nash Aragundar, the ruler of Neverwinter, repeatedly appealed to Casalos, the newly appointed open lord of Waterdeep, as an ally. However, aside from sending a spellcasting group to help with flood control and providing some surplus container shelters, Casalos offered little other assistance. The Iron Dragons were not the overly compassionate Gold and Silver Dragons; extending even this much help was already fulfilling its duty as the open lord of Waterdeep.
The garrison of Neverwinter was well-trained, yet seemed helpless in the face of natural disasters. The army's main focus was on maintaining order and preventing theft, rather than post-disaster reconstruction. This resulted in Neverwinter's security situation being much better than that of Luscany, which was less affected by the disaster. Many merchant ships bound for Luscany now chose to dock at Neverwinter's port, allowing the port city to recover some of its vitality.
What's particularly dangerous is that the scattered orc tribes throughout the Northland and the wilderness have noticed Neverwinter's weakened state and are beginning to regroup. Several small scout teams have been spotted operating on the city's outskirts, indicating a potentially larger-scale attack is imminent. While Neverwinter's walls remain formidable, the morale of the defenders is low, and if the orcs do launch an attack, the city may not be able to resist as effectively as it has in the past.
The orcs were not only a threat to Neverwinter. If Casalos remembered correctly, in the second year after the turmoil, the orcs of the Northland launched a full-scale plundering campaign in the Northland, indiscriminately attacking every town in the northern region of the Sword Bay and causing one massacre after another.
These beast-like visitors from another world are always like this; every disaster in the North is a celebration for them.
Nash Aragundar attempted to contact other allies for support, but the surrounding regions were also devastated by the disaster. Apart from Silvermoon City, almost no one could offer substantial assistance. Furthermore, Silvermoon City and Neverwinter were far apart and lacked any navigable waterways, limiting the support they could provide. Neverwinter was facing its most severe crisis since its founding. If the situation continued to deteriorate, this northern bulwark might fall completely, giving the orcish army the opportunity to advance south and threaten the entire Sword Coast region.
Casalos's gaze then turned to the southern end of the Sword Coast in the north, where Ascatra, the capital of the Am Empire, lies.
The seventh largest port city in Faerûn suffered a devastating blow in the disaster. The earthquake first destroyed the city's iconic structure—the Temple of Wojkin, known as the "Golden Spire." This towering temple, once the most sacred place in Amn, a nation whose empire was built on colonial trade, representing the economic, political, and religious core of the empire, was now reduced to ruins. The collapse of the temple was not only a material loss but also a heavy blow to the faith of the empire's people.
The priests of Woking attempted to search the ruins for sacred relics and maintain their rituals, but the goddess of wealth, who should have been among the gods, remained unresponsive to her devout followers. This woman, whose head had been pickled in gold and had developed abscesses, conspired with the equally eccentric goddess of joy, Lira, to escape the calamities of the turbulent years. She entrusted her remaining divine power to Lira, then, with the help of an otherworldly deity, infiltrated the Astral Plane and negotiated with the Abyss Lord, Lord of Darkness Grazt, hoping to return to her divine realm through the Abyss and his territory…
Casalos couldn't fathom what kind of thought process Wojkin had. He just stripped himself naked and handed himself over to a demon lord. Was he perhaps experiencing some kind of psychic awakening and wanting to play with a velvet ball to end his life?
So now she's probably getting what she wanted. Grazt didn't devour her whole, but instead imprisoned and disciplined her. According to some members of the pink group who had run the original mod in Casalos's past life, during their journey to rescue the Goddess of Wealth from the bottomless abyss, they scavenged spoils including, but not limited to, torture pears stained with the secretions of the true god, fist-sized strings of beads, and rubber sticks as thick as a barbarian's arm. Of course, before that, they had also witnessed firsthand demonstrations of how to use these tools... well, I can't go into details.
As for basic gadgets like triangular wooden horses, X-shaped frames, whips, candles, and ropes, they wouldn't pique the "interest" of the Demon King and the Goddess.
Regardless of the current state of the goddess Wogin, she is unable to respond to her followers, and Lierra, who has gained Wogin's divine power and is acting in her place, is a complete idiot. Chaos and panic spread endlessly among Wogin's followers. They began to believe that the goddess had abandoned them, and were convinced that the temple's collapse was Wogin's dissatisfaction with imperial policies and punishment for corrupt officials. These rumors further eroded public trust in the royal family, making the already unstable political situation in the Am Empire even more complicated.
The tsunami subsequently annihilated the colonial fleet in the port of Ascatella. The warships and merchant ships used to maintain colonial rule and transport resources were now reduced to twisted wreckage floating in the harbor. This blow not only severed the Empire's overseas revenue source and virtually severed Amn's control over Maztec, but also broke the commercial chain built upon colonial trade. It also left the colonists in Maztec isolated. Without the support of the fleet, those colonies were likely to be overthrown by the local population or establish independent regimes. The Empire's revenue plummeted by nearly 70% in just a few weeks, and the royal family began selling off assets to maintain even the most basic operations.
Within the city, the disparities between different areas became even more pronounced. Residents of the wealthy districts lived relatively stable lives, relying on their private guards and supplies, while the slums descended into anarchy. The majority of the guards and military forces were deployed to the wealthy districts and the port area, leaving vast civilian areas unattended. Robberies, arson, and violence occurred daily, and the city's nights were illuminated by countless small fires—campfires lit by residents to protect themselves from predators from the misty mountains.
Amidst the chaos, the cannibalistic mages who had seized Mulan and their minions became even more rampant, threatening the safety of Ascatella. These ferocious but unambitious creatures, who had been content with Mulan's wealth, now that Mulan too had been impacted by the disaster and the empire's weakness exposed, began a large-scale invasion of human settlements. Several outlying villages had been destroyed, and the surviving villagers poured into Ascatella, further burdening the city.
Cannibalistic mages possess not only immense physical strength but also dangerous magic. They can control the elements, summon the undead, and some even wield the power to warp reality. Two legendary cannibalistic mage leaders have joined forces, forming a loose alliance. Their goal is clear: to conquer Ascatella and turn this human city into their new lair.
The Imperial army had already clashed with ogre forces several times on the outskirts of the city, but due to Amn's long-standing tradition of discrimination against magic and strict prohibitions, the country lacked an army with the spellcasting power to fight against ogre mages. Each conflict ended in heavy casualties. Morale was low, equipment was inadequate, while the ogre army's numbers continued to increase with the influx of dark creatures from the wilderness. Military commanders estimated that without external aid, Ascatra could only sustain its defenses for a maximum of one month.
The royal family has begun secret discussions about an evacuation plan, preparing to flee to an inland fortified city in the worst-case scenario. However, if this news were to reach the public, it would undoubtedly trigger even greater panic and chaos. Ascatella, this once-prosperous port city, is facing an unprecedented crisis of survival.
Further south, the area that forms the "boundary" between the north and south of Sword Bay, and Velen, an outpost city defending against the Nalanthal pirates, is in equally dire condition.
This isolated city, perched on the far end of the peninsula, has long fought against the pirates of the Netherlands, opening a safe north-south passage for shipping through the Sword Coast. The Velen Peninsula resembles a sapling growing horizontally from a cliff, its narrow silhouette connecting it to the mainland—a lifeline linking Velen to the interior. A wide road was built at its throat, sustaining the city's supplies and military. However, a tsunami nearly destroyed this narrow passage connecting the Velen Peninsula to the mainland, a massive chasm severing this lifeline, reaching a width of 300 meters and a depth of about 15 meters at its narrowest point. The engineers of Dragon's Territory estimate that even with magical assistance, repairing the road will take at least six months. Velen's current food reserves are only enough to last for two months at most.
The city's inhabitants have begun a strict rationing system, with each person receiving only limited food and water per day. Fishing has become the only reliable source of food, but most of Velen's fishing boats were destroyed in the tsunami, and the remaining vessels are facing fuel shortages. The danger of fishing has also increased significantly, as the Nalanthal pirates have become aware of Velen's plight and have begun frequenting the surrounding waters.
If it weren't for the fact that Deepwater Territory-Baldur's Gate and the maritime lifeline of Kalinsan used it as a temporary transit hub, and that Dragon Territory's merchant ships and escort fleets frequently docked in Velen Bay, providing it with effective defense and material assistance, Velen would likely have already been occupied by the Naran'thal pirates.
Even so, the efficiency of transporting supplies to Velen was far from sufficient. This was not because Casalos was stingy; Velen was originally built as an outpost city to defend against the islands. Its location was unique, with the entire city built on the cliffs of a narrow bay where wind and waves converge. This eliminated the possibility of pirates launching surprise attacks from the sea and prevented large merchant ships from getting close. Supplies had to be transferred by small boats to a simple pier below the city, and then lifted into the city hundreds of meters above the sea by winches and baskets. The whole process was slow and dangerous.
Meanwhile, the Nalanthal pirates were also amassing their forces. Guards at Velen's watchtowers reported that several pirate flagships had appeared in the northern waters, forming an unprecedented fleet. The pirates clearly recognized this as a golden opportunity—if they could capture Velen, they would gain a permanent base deep within Sword Coast, thus controlling the vital trade route between the north and south of the main Sword Coast.
The defenders of Velen remained valiant, but their morale was inevitably beginning to waver. The sentries on the walls dared not sleep easily, for pirate ships could approach at any moment. The quartermaster reported that supplies of weapons and arrows were dwindling, and that the defenses could collapse within days should a large-scale attack occur.
The city's commander has sent urgent distress signals to all the major cities in Sword Coast. Small aid fleets have attempted to break through the pirate blockade, delivering food and medicine, but this aid is far from sufficient. Velen needs a powerful caravan to break the pirate siege, or a large influx of magical aid to restore its connection to the interior.
In these critical moments, many residents began planning their escape. Every night, small boats secretly left Velen, carrying desperate residents towards southern cities. But even the city's leadership couldn't be sure how many of these boats would successfully break through the pirate blockade.
Casalos's wing hooks slowly rose, the dragon's soul etched with a simple, primal ambition and greed for territory burning within it. If it so desired, a little planning would suffice to seize complete control of these cities, bringing the entire northern Sword Coast under its sway. The power centers of those cities were already crumbling; a few coups would easily sway them to Casalos's side.
But then, the iron dragon spread its wings and sighed deeply.
"No, we can't do that." It shook its head and muttered to itself. This was not only because it was considering how much resistance such a crazy expansion would provoke from the humanoid civilization system on the continent of Faerûn, but more importantly, the Iron Dragon was not capable of controlling such a large territory.
The Dragonflight has brought three vast regions under its rule: the astral city of Tunalas, the Deepwater Territory, and Baldur's Gate. While this has led to a rapid expansion of the Dragonflight's territory, it has also completely drained the Dragonflight's accumulated potential for rule and stability over the years, and has even hampered the Dragonflight's original strategic plans and development path.
Both the development of the Black Jungle and the war against the Serpent Abyss Serpent People Empire have been put on hold indefinitely. The Dragon Territory's surplus production capacity and dominance have all been transferred to Sword Bay, which still seems somewhat powerless.
It didn't even manage to purge the original noble class of Deepwater and Baldur's Gate, but merely made an example of them to deter them, making them outwardly maintain and cooperate with the dragon's rule, because Deepwater and Baldur's Gate still needed these nobles to act as a buffer to stabilize the people's hearts.
“The right way is to let the people spontaneously resist them through the awakening of their consciousness, and to completely destroy this cancerous class that is constantly multiplying by absorbing social nutrients.” Casaloz muttered to himself, “In a sense, what the harpists said is not wrong. My education reform is to brainwash the people of the Sword Bay.”
There is no such thing as free will. The self-awareness of intelligent life is constantly influenced and shaped by external information. The right path to rebuilding a new order and a new class lies in using curiosity about knowledge, anticipation for the future, and exploration of oneself to cleanse people's hearts of the "filth" imposed by millennia of solidified society. No matter how absurd or extravagant the nobles may be, millennia of rule have created a fixed image of rulers in people's minds. Hasty purges will only trigger large-scale social backlash.
The shortage of labor and administrative personnel is the biggest obstacle to the expansion of the Dragonflight. Kobolds are efficient and loyal, but their population base is far too small compared to humans and elves. Their longer reproductive cycle, stemming from dragon veins, further limits population growth. Grey dwarves and dwarves are undoubtedly excellent industrial workers, but they are not particularly good at administration. The number of grey dwarves and dwarves under Dragonflight's rule is also limited, and the two groups are hostile to each other; most of the stubborn dwarves even resist the reforms implemented by Dragonflight. The number of dragons is even rarer compared to humanoid populations, and dragons are far more independent than humanoids. They are good for fighting, but using them to form a ruling structure is a pipe dream.
“It seems we need to adjust our strategy.” Casalos looked up at the aurora on the northern horizon. “The restoration of the magic network has given us a new opportunity. Perhaps it’s time to activate the backup plan.”
The backup plan, "Vultures," was a contingency plan devised by Casalos and his staff after capturing the Astral City. Its core principle was to utilize the still-unintegrated population resources of Tunaras, and the convenience of the Astral Link transportation hub, to "borrow" human resources from other planes or worlds.
Where there are dragons, there are kobolds. The Nine-Headed Dragon God, who created countless worlds in the multiverse, had the sole purpose of opening new worlds to spread the concept and species of dragons—dragons are everywhere in the multiverse, and so are the kobolds, the most loyal servant race of dragons.
Different worlds have different gods and different rules, and the dragons living in them are also different. The risk of this plan is too high, so it can only be used as a backup, but the current situation may be worth a try.
"Of course, the absence of Dragon Territory doesn't mean Casalos has to stop here," the iron dragon's tail quipped sharply. "I still have other 'identities' and forces at my disposal, and 'Old Roar' is in quite a bit of trouble..."
18. The trouble of the old man's roar
Roaring Crater lay in an unnamed ravine on the Spine of the World, his broad dragon wings half-folded, his long tail stroking the crystal ball in front of him, casting a new round of prophecies.
The ancient red dragon's scarred face bore an unmistakable weariness, and the sulfurous flames spewing from its nostrils collided with the cold air, forming two pungent puffs of white mist. Through the crystal ball, it surveyed the panoramic view of the World's Ridge, the silver dragons that either coiled among the mountains, traversed the clouds, or rested on the mountaintops. Especially striking were the agile figures covered in battle scars and the slender, golden bodies that swam like long manta rays, all of which made it restless and impatient.
Fortunately, the pseudo-Lapras demon constructed by Casalozs not only completely freed itself from the image of the ancient red dragon soul from Garrosh's clone, but also had a reverse effect on it, making Garrosh's clone a little calmer and more self-controlled—which is perhaps closer to Garrosh's original state.
"Another whole day of wasted effort," it muttered to itself, its hoarse voice echoing through the mountain valley.
For two whole months, Old Roar hadn't had a single peaceful nap. It wasn't like Flame, suffering from insomnia; sleep wasn't just a preference of ancient dragons, but a necessary process for Primordial Dragons to recover from the gradual aging of their bodies as they entered the twilight of their lives. Sufficient sleep effectively delayed the arrival of aging, thus increasing the probability of finding and avoiding it.
A neurasthenic creature like Flame will likely reach its twilight years centuries earlier than other red dragons. Roar has no intention of becoming an ancient dragon who dies young—clearly, this is one of the effects of ancient dragons on Casalos-like spiritual entities. Casalos doesn't care about the remaining age of this avatar; no matter what it does, it will be much, much longer than Casalos's own short, barely begun dragon life.
The concept of aging is not something a young dragon should be concerned with.
But Casalos was just as frustrated with Roar's current situation.
With the gods restored to their rightful places and the turmoil ended, the magical network once again brought order to the chaotic magic, allowing those beings trapped outside the world of Toril due to a lack of preparation to finally return to Forgotten Realms. This also means that "Roaring Old Man" is in trouble!
Casalos's initial purpose in impersonating Grommash Hellscream and causing trouble was to force Grommash to his death. He never expected that he would actually create a clone that completely replaced Grommash, Klaus, and thus all the "cause and effect" he had created came back to haunt him.
The chromatic dragons of Sword Coast, though provoked, were ultimately dealt with by the time "Old Roar" returned to Faerûn—faced with Old Roar's berserk power surpassing that of ordinary ancient red dragons, the individualistic chromatic dragons of the North were nothing more than a disorganized rabble. Even while adhering to Old Roar's logic to maintain the authenticity of his identity, Casalos still managed to dismantle the chromatic dragons' makeshift anti-Roar alliance with a few words. "Pure White Dragon" Elvia Tullis and "Statue Dragon" Amuris betrayed him, the treacherous "Old Bone Chewer" Claugelia Marta deserted, and the remaining dragons were rendered helpless, easily defeated by Casalos.
Casaloz never expected these chromatic dragons to pose any threat to Grommash Hellscream, since the chromatic dragons that could truly confront Grommash Hellscream head-on were either nowhere to be found or in the distant southeastern continent of Faerûn, in Quettasen and Enser.
Therefore, it initially disguised itself as Roaring Howl, but ended up provoking the Golden Dragon Court, the nominal leader of Toril's largest metallic dragons.
Its strategy was undoubtedly successful. When the Golden Dragon Court reacted, the real Roar simply fled. A supernatural ancient red dragon that constantly threatened Casalos and Waterdeep was thus forced to leave its homeland.
But when it killed Roaring Roar by running away from the corpse and obtained Roaring Roar's dragon soul, and then gained the opportunity to take the psychic entity out of the Dragon Vault, and combined the two to create a clone that completely replaced Roaring Roar and returned to the Forgotten Realms, its previous harassment and attacks on the Golden Dragon Court became the sword of Damocles hanging over its head.
The Golden Dragon Court of today is not the one that truly existed in name only after the final Dragon Madness. Even though the title of Lord of all metal dragons in Toril is nominal, His Highness still commands the strongest "military organization" in Faerûn and even the entire Toril: the Knights of the Claw of Justice, composed entirely of silver dragon paladins.
The reason why Grommash made the decision to flee Faerûn was because His Highness Glorious entrusted the task of capturing Grommash to Lord Hevilan of the Knights of the Claws of Justice and her vice-winger Azak.
Roar escaped into the Astral Plane, and Havilland and Azak followed him in.
Casalos returns as Grommash Hellscream, while Hevilan and Azak are trapped in the Astral Plane due to the beginning of the turmoil.
Now, they're back!
In order to deter those who were eyeing Waterdeep, Casalos was forced to engage in an epic battle with his alter ego, "Roaringer," which undoubtedly announced to the entire continent of Faerûn that Roaringer had returned to Faerûn.
Hevilan and Azak will naturally come knocking on their door.
Worse still, along with them to the Spine of the World, besides the twelve silver dragon paladins, also arrived the most powerful gold dragon on the continent of Faerûn, the "Nexus" Larendran Maga.
Therefore, for the past two months, the clone of Kassaroz, acting as Grommash Hellscream, has been using legendary prophetic spells to evade the Claws of Justice's pursuit. By foreseeing future possibilities, Grommash was able to leave before the silver dragons arrived.
At the same time, it was also using these prophetic spells to remotely convey its willingness to reconcile to Hevilan, although it was disappointed with each response it received.
"Go and explain to His Highness yourself. I think you've made so many concessions, His Highness will give you a fair trial..." Haivilan's reply was always so cold and official.
This is undoubtedly a meaningless answer. Given the extreme arrogance and stubbornness hidden beneath Lares's considerate and polite demeanor, it would be a miracle if Old Roar could obtain any "mercy" from him.
Casalos didn't know if Grommash Hellscream was willing to fight these metal dragons—it probably wasn't, otherwise it wouldn't have chosen to flee to the Astral Plane in the first place. As for Casalos himself, he was even less willing.
Silver dragons are wind-elemental, and their abilities are closely related to wind, climate, and even gravity, making them virtually invincible in aerial combat among their class. Their breath is icy, dealing significant extra damage to red dragons that are weak to cold. The silver dragons of the Claw of Justice are all paladins, and their Evil Slash deals critical hits with every strike against the evil-elemental red dragons… This elemental advantage makes them impossible to fight, not to mention the sheer number of dragons on the other side.
Yes, silver dragons are kind, that's true, but their philosophy of kindness doesn't consider ganging up on others an evil act; on the contrary, they're quite happy to do so. Because their absolute power allows them to effectively control collateral damage when facing evil…
Even though Casalos's clone, the old Roar, cleansed away the weakness of cold through the Carved Skin, it could still use Tiamat's Desecrator power to eliminate the imbalance of the paladin's exorcising power.
Casalos still had no intention of confronting Havilland head-on—regardless of Havilland's past assistance, the power of the Golden Dragon Royal Court forced it to compromise. Even if it defeated Havilland and Azak, there was still the "Nexus" Larendran Maga behind it.
"Nexus" is a weak dragon that is much thinner than a normal ancient golden dragon. Its power is entirely displayed in arcane magic. If it uses Disintegration disguised as blasphemous power, it would not be difficult for Grommash Hellscream to defeat it.
What happens then? What about the dozens of paladin silver dragons of the Knights of the Claws of Justice? What about His Highness Lares and Bahamut's chosen one, Tamaland? What about Palotanser, the former King of Justice who single-handedly used an artifact to freeze Vasa's demon army?
If you beat the younger ones, the older ones will appear, and the power levels that will emerge later will even surpass the boundaries between gods and mortals. What's the point of fighting them?
Don't talk about gaining the respect of metal dragons through righteous acts of winning without killing; that goes against Grommash's principles as a dragon and the philosophy of metal dragons. Furthermore, even if Casalos went all out against Hevilan and Azak, he couldn't guarantee victory; the idea of retaining wings is a false premise.
It cannot even appear before any of the dragons in Hyvillen, Azak, or the Nexus, because that would mean it has no way to escape and can only fight—with Grommash's body, it cannot fly over those silver dragons that control the wind.
Old Roar let out a long, hot sigh, its wing membranes tightening slightly to ward off the cold wind from the mountaintop. It had already led the Claws of Justice on several round trips around the World's Spine, and although it had always managed to weave perfectly through the area, avoiding numerous searches, and had tried various methods—persuasion, compromise, compensation—lowering its stance each time, it had never shaken Haivilan's determination to bring it to justice.
"How did a battle maniac like you end up among the Silver Dragons? It's like meeting a Lord of the Abyss." Old Roar muttered to himself, his wing hooks tracing several mysterious paths, setting up new bait and revealing several safe havens for returning to Klaus Valley. Casalos made a decision before the situation worsened—to end this long game of hide-and-seek and execute the backup plan for a cross-realm journey. Since fighting and negotiating were pointless, Old Roar-Cassaros's only option was to run away again. After all, this cunning red dragon, just as cunning as the green dragon, often did this, so no one would suspect anything.
Leaving Faerûn and traveling through the Astral Plane to other worlds to hide for a while, while also opening up human resource development across realms for the Dragon Territory, is definitely a strategy that kills many birds with one stone—Roar doesn't need to hide for long, given the dragons' concept of time, the Golden Dragon Court will soon no longer care about him.
It stood up, shook the snow off its wings, and then leaped into the sky. Its wings, the widest in proportion to its body of any dragon, swirled through the air with a deep, resonant sound, and its roaring form shot straight into the clouds like a retrograde crimson comet.
It needs to lure over the "hub" that's lying in wait in Klaus Valley before it can proceed with its next move.
Centuries ago, Grommash chose this remote valley on the World's Ridge as his lair. Surrounded by snow year-round, Klaus Valley boasts a complex and varied terrain with dozens of naturally formed cave systems, making it ideal for evading pursuit. More importantly, Grommash's treasure trove lies within Klaus Valley, containing not only hundreds of dimensional bags for emergency use in opening astral portals, but also a permanent teleportation array to other worlds—an array long since damaged, which Grommash claimed and attempted to repair, but without much success.
Casalorz's clone not only perfectly inherited Grommash Hellscream's legendary arcane casting abilities but also possessed artifacts like the Arcane Scroll, ultimately finding a way to repair the ancient interdimensional teleportation array. Having a universal manual makes things much easier; this is Casalorz's unparalleled advantage in arcane magic. Otherwise, how could the great arcane mages of Netheril be so formidable?
As the crimson comet streaked across a mountain ridge, the pre-set warning of the prophecy spell suddenly exploded in his mind. At the same time, two silver lightning bolts shot out from the clouds, precisely intercepting Old Roar in front of him.
"Klaus, you have nowhere to run."
Perhaps influenced by Casalos, Old Roar always felt that Hevilan's voice was gentle, yet dignified and cold. This agile ancient silver dragon was the leader of the Claws of Justice. Its wings shimmered with a bluish-silver light in the sunlight, and the battle scars on its body made it more like a work of art showcasing courage and strength than a purely benevolent silver dragon.
Azak was smaller than Hevilan, but appeared more robust. Its proportions were wider and thicker, and its scales were a deeper silver, almost steel-like. As an ancient silver dragon, its dragon aura, while not as profound as that of the ancient silver dragons, shone with a brilliance that pierced even the melting eyes of red dragons—on the path of the paladin, Azak had gone further than Hevilan.
"Divine power is such a hassle!" Old Roar muttered to himself.
To the ancient red dragon, the ancient silver dragon was hardly a threat, and paladins were a joke. But when the two merged into one… the dragon knight who had forged a paladin's mount pact with a dragon and obtained a dragon mount was renowned, possessing divine power that could fuse the power of the paladin and the dragon, creating an enhancement greater than 1+10>11. So what about the silver dragon paladin who directly regarded himself as his mount?
The huge, unhealed scar on Lao Hou's face had already given an explanation.
Yes, that scar was left by Haivilan!
At that time, Old Roar was already an ancient red dragon, while Haivilan was only an ancient silver dragon. The end result was that Old Roar left two not-so-deep new wounds on Haivilan's body, but Haivilan gave Old Roar a pain that he would never forget. So when it learned that the Golden Dragon Royal Court had sent Haivilan to hunt it down, it ran away immediately.
Casalos, who did not inherit Roar's memories, was unaware of this secret, but the emotions reflected by Roar's dragon soul genuinely affected the spiritual entity.
The ancient red dragon slowly hovered in the air, retracting its forepaws into a defensive stance, and roared angrily, "Battle maniac, I'm sick and tired of your so-called righteous rhetoric."
"As a wicked dragon rife with evil deeds, you have no right to judge justice, Klaus." Hevilan's reply was brief and resolute. "I represent the Claws of Justice, and have been ordered by His Highness the Glorious One to bring you to justice. Your crimes are enough to make you kneel before the judgment seat of the Ptarian Code for a thousand years."
Roaring sneered, the red dragon's fangs gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. "How laughable, little she-dragon. Don't you silver dragons always tout free will and fair judgment? To rush to condemn someone before even hearing my full explanation—is that in accordance with the teachings of your legal code? Or have you already sided with Bahamut, who calls himself the Lord of Justice in Damara?"
A flicker of emotion crossed Hevilan's dragon eyes, which were gradually melting into luminous, mercury-like spheres of dragon magic, but she quickly regained her resolve: "We've given you two months to explain, Klaus. Yet, each time you spoke to me through divination, you merely stalled for time, never providing any real evidence to prove your innocence, nor ever considering any substantial compensation for the victims—don't try to fob me off with treasures that don't belong to you; I don't accept that as your repentance or compensation!"
Old Roar paused briefly, then turned to Azak, who had remained silent, and said contemptuously, "You naive and reckless cub, you've followed this little she-dragon around trying to capture me. Have you ever thought about why you're doing this? Do you truly believe I'm guilty, or is it merely because of a single word from His Highness Glorious?"
The impulsive Azak could still glimpse the faint gleam of fury in the dragon's blue, vertical pupils, but before the Lord, it quickly regained its composure. "Your excuses are meaningless, Klaus. From Mibara to Waterdeep, from Icewind Dale to Lead Mountains, your dragonfire and crimes are clear enough. Today, you either surrender or fight to the death."
"Truly admirable," Old Roar sneered. "The mother of the Claws of Justice has done a good job teaching you. Perhaps in a few hundred years, when you've accumulated some wisdom, you'll understand that the world isn't simply black and white, little fellow... Oh, and don't forget that your impulsive nature might very well lead to your untimely death."
The conversation was spiraling out of control. Old Hou began to slowly back away, his eyes darting out of the corner of his eye as he scanned the distant, gray silhouettes of the mountains, waiting for the third figure to appear.