New Calendar five-five-six years.
Facing the tyranny of Lord of Thunder, people chose to be patient in this first year.
The rule of Helmode Dragon Brood has lasted for a long time on this land. For most short-lived species, they have almost forgotten what it is like to live without a dragon pressing above their heads.
Moreover, the rule of dragons is not benevolent, but at least it is within a barely tolerable range.
Regular tribute, occasional plunder, and limited servitude.
These costs weigh heavily on everyone, but they are not to the point of completely breaking their backs.
However, when Storm Dragon implemented the will of Deity and established Temple in various places, everything changed.
Blood Tax.
The word spread across the West like Plague.
Every month, each kingdom must donate a certain number of living people to Temple.
After these people were taken away, they never came back. No one knew what Temple did to them. They only disappeared in silence.
"Be patient," the old people said, "Dragonkin's rule is like this, just get over it."
"Be patient," the businessmen said, "As long as you can still do business, as long as you can still live, there is hope."
"Be patient," the nobles said. "Resistance will only lead to more brutal repression. We have seen it too many times."
So people endured it.
They watched helplessly as their neighbors were dragged out of their homes at night, their relatives' wrists were tied with chains and dragged in the direction of Temple, and the number of familiar faces around them decreased day by day.
They lowered their heads, pretended not to see it all, and continued to live their lives.
However, patience never buys kindness.
New Calendar five-five-seven years.
The limit of Blood Tax is constantly increasing.
Temple's servants have become more and more greedy. Their gaze is no longer limited to civilians, but has begun to reach out to small nobles, businessmen, and even family members of some kingdom officials.
Classes that were once considered safe by default are beginning to discover.
His status and wealth cannot protect his family from the fate of being taken away.
Wooden piles covered with corpses were erected everywhere, exposed to the wind and sun. Those who tried to resist or escape were used by Temple as tools to kill chickens and monkeys.
Crows circled around, and their cries became the most frequent music in this land.
Despair is like mold, quietly growing in the deepest part of the human heart.
An ordinary soldier from a vassal kingdom sat alone in an empty house after his family was forcibly taken away by Temple's servants.
He sat there all night.
Early the next morning, he walked out of his house, holding a combat knife in his hand, and walked to the nearest Temple branch.
He failed to do any damage.
When the soldier raised his sword and walked near Temple, he was immediately surrounded by servants and minions, and then brutally killed him.
But this is just the beginning.
People are beginning to realize one thing. Patience will not buy you survival, but will only buy you a slower death. If you have to die anyway, there is always a difference between dying standing and dying on your knees.
New Calendar five-five-eight years.
Desperation reached to the extreme is resistance.
At first there were just sporadic commotions. One village refused to pay Blood Tax and blocked the servants sent by Temple from the village. Extraordinaries from a town gathered together and attacked the guards of the Temple branch under the cover of night.
These revolts were quickly suppressed.
The flames of Dragonkin reduced the village to ashes, and the lightning chopped the gathered extraordinary beings into coke. Helmode Dragon Brood told everyone in the most direct way that resistance means death.
But fire cannot burn away despair, nor lightning can break anger.
This year, the first organized large-scale uprising broke out in Silverfrost City in the west.
The leader is a Legendary Realm knight named Seth.
He had served in his kingdom for many years and was exiled because he refused to carry out an order to massacre civilians. He wandered and adventured outside. After hearing about the suffering of Western States, he chose to return to his hometown and gather those like-minded people like him.
"We are not playing to win."
"We are fighting for dignity. Even if we die, we must die standing."
His slogan spread throughout the city-state and reached the ears of those who were still hesitant to stand up.
The uprising lasted for a month.
Lord of Thunder did not take action personally.
He just sent his own blood relatives, Silverfrost City burned all night in Dragonflame.
The city walls collapsed and the houses were reduced to rubble.
Seth was nailed to the remaining city wall, and his followers either died in the battle or were captured, and eventually became Temple's new sacrifices.
But this uprising was like a seed, buried deep in the soil of the West.
New Calendar 559.
The limit of Blood Tax has been increased again.
Lord of Thunder clearly defined this increase as revenge for the Silverfrost City uprising. He wanted everyone to see clearly what the price of resistance was.
However, no matter how brutal the suppression is, it cannot extinguish the flames that have been ignited.
After the failure of the Silverfrost City uprising, more underground organizations began to form.
They learned the lesson of Seth and no longer carried out open frontal resistance. With Western States's tacit approval and even covert support, these organizations moved into the dark.
Secret communication, information transmission, and material hoarding.
They learn how to survive under the nose of Dragonkin and maintain their integrity under high pressure.
In this dark and turbulent era, human resilience and potential have been unleashed as never before.
Among the rebels.
In just a few years, those strong men who had been stuck at the twenty-level limit for many years, had sprung up to reach the Legendary Realm level.
They are scattered throughout the west, constantly attacking Temple branches in various places.
Lord of Thunder's family members are exhausted.
And for those who have not yet reached Legendary Realm, their level improvement speed is far faster than in peaceful times.
The pressure of death, the drive of anger, the instinct to survive... these things are like whetstones, grinding out human potential layer by layer.
The same year.
Aura's Claw, Shadow Commander, Werewolf Russell, and the entire department under him became extremely busy.
Weapons, gold coins, scrolls, information...
A large amount of resources flowed into the West through various secret channels. The people who transported them never explained much, and disappeared into the night after delivery.
The rebels were initially highly wary of these mysterious aids.
They suspected it was a trap, with some price they couldn't see hidden behind it.
But time has proven everything.
These aids come with no strings attached, no demands for loyalty, no demands for anything in return, they simply support the resistance.
New Calendar 560.
The west became a quagmire.
Helmode Dragon Brood found himself trapped in an endless loop.
When one rebellion is suppressed, it rises in another; when one underground organization is wiped out, two new ones emerge to fill the void.
The quantity of Dragonkin is limited after all.
They are powerful, but few in number.
Lamorien can personally destroy any city, or even wipe an entire kingdom off the map, but he cannot appear everywhere at the same time. His dragons can suppress any open uprising, but they are also unable to track every secret resistance organization.
Even more troubling, forms of rebellion are evolving.
It started as a frontal military conflict, then evolved into guerrilla warfare, and then sabotage, assassination, infiltration...
Rebels have learned how to carve new paths where there seems to be no way forward.
Among them, human performance is the most outstanding.
The life of this race is short and the body is fragile.
An adult human being without the blessing of any extraordinary power cannot even pose any substantial threat to a Hatchling Dragon.
But they also have advantages that the dragons can't match.
Otherwise, humans will not become the most intelligent race that exists in all the world.
Lord of Thunder's command is clear.
Continue to suppress.
In this way, time gradually came to New Calendar 564.
Western Atlan has entered a stalemate.
Helmode Dragon Brood still controls major cities and traffic arteries, but their control is obviously weakening. The resistance organization controls a large number of villages, towns and mountainous areas, and has established a secret network of strongholds in places where Dragonkin's sight is difficult to cover.
Neither side can do anything to the other, forming a fragile balance.
Collection of Blood Tax is becoming increasingly difficult.
Temple's servants were frequently ambushed while performing tasks, and Temple agents in various places were assassinated one after another. Lamorien had to devote more and more power to maintaining the existing control area, and these powers should have been used for expansion.
That's it.
His minions were firmly restricted to the west and could not take a step forward.
Meanwhile, Red Emperor Royal City.
Garos stood on top of Dragon Court, quietly overlooking the boundless sea of clouds below. The wind from high up was strong, making a chirping sound when it blew over his scales.
A voice came from beside him.
"Eight years."
"Lamorien was trapped in a cycle of repression and rebellion for eight whole years."
"My dear brother, your strategy has plunged Helmode Dragon Brood into a quagmire. Its minions are firmly confined to the west and cannot extend an inch. When you said eight years ago that this matter would turn out like this, I didn't fully believe it."
Iron Dragon said in amazement.
Before this, Gordon had no idea that Lamorien, as Destiny Storm Dragon, would be unable to suppress some resisters who were far weaker than him.
According to common sense, with Lamorien's power level, he shouldn't have been held back for so long.
But time has proven his brother's foresight.
Helmode Dragon Brood's power is continuously consumed by endless rebellions.
Although Lamorien is powerful and Destiny Storm Dragon's power is enough to frighten any enemy, he cannot rule a vast land alone.
At the same time, Red Iron Dragon was thinking about another thing.
"Under the cruel tyranny of Lamorien, many of the rebels quickly broke through to the Legendary Realm."
If you think about it carefully, Reinhart was also born in a turbulent era. Although Theo is far less miserable than Western States is today, its entire kingdom was also shrouded in gloom and longing for hope.
"After the decline of Dragon Race, Elf and Giant were glorious for a while."
"And now... is it the age of mankind?"
He suspected in his heart that if Lamorien's tyranny continued for a while, another human with Reinhart's talent might pop up.
Red Iron Dragon didn't think deeply about this issue.
After hearing Gordon's words, he let out a deep laugh.
"Kill and rule."
"These are two completely different concepts."
He looked at the distant sky shrouded in dark clouds and said, "With Lamorien's current power, as long as no one at the same level stops him, he can kill all the resisters and turn the entire land into scorched earth."
"He can indeed do this."
"But how can a dead land provide him with Blood Tax?"
Aura Kingdom governs the country by not relying on high-pressure rule.
In the early years, Sorog had put forward the idea of direct suppression similar to Lamorien because of Iron Dragon's nature.
That proposal was directly rejected by Garos.
In Garos's view, this method of governance is too inefficient.
High pressure will bring about inactivity, internal consumption and rebellion, and these things combined will continue to weaken the kingdom's strength.
And Aura Kingdom's current way of ruling is taking another utopian route.
This route requires the existence of a ruler who can be recognized and worshiped by all the people, and the people need to believe from the bottom of their hearts that the ruler's decision-making is good for them.
The advantage is that when Garos exists, the entire kingdom will become extremely cohesive and indestructible.
The shortcomings are equally obvious.
Once the supreme emperor falls for any reason, it will be difficult for a successor to inherit his prestige. At that time, the entire kingdom will fall apart in a short period of time and cease to exist.
This is a risk that Garos is well aware of.
He can totally bear it.
"Although Lamorien has the supreme idea of Dragon Race, he is not stupid himself."
Garos looked back into the distance and thought in his heart.
"It stands to reason that he knows how to disguise himself and has the ability to use other means to collect Blood Tax, instead of relying solely on cruel tyranny. This is too inefficient."
"Are you trying to please the Dragon Queen?"
"According to the case descriptions in the inheritance, the Dragon Queen likes to use fear and despair to make people obey her. She is a complete evil god who enjoys the pain of others. Lamorien became her apostle. Only by pleasing her can you get more grace. It is reasonable to adopt a similar style."
The giant dragon raised its chin and fell into deep thought.
Then, the voice of Gordon interrupted his thoughts.
Iron Dragon blinked and asked curiously, "Brother, if you were in Lamorien's position, how would you accept Blood Tax?"
He added, "The same purpose, the same need for living people, but using your method, what would you do?"
Hearing this, Garos thought for a moment.
Blood Tax..
"First of all, the name Blood Tax needs to be changed."
He pondered for a moment and said slowly, "The name is the first mask of rule. Blood Tax is too straightforward and naked. These two words themselves have the flavor of Bloodshed. This kind of honesty is stupid. It inspires fear, and fear breeds resistance. You must change the name for the same thing so that when people hear it, what comes to mind is not blood and death."
He turned around and looked at Gordon.
"If it were me, I would call it----Grace."
"Grace?" Gordon tilted his head.
"Yes, Grace from the top." Garos said, "Being selected is not a punishment, but an honor."
"You have to make people believe that the person who was taken away was chosen and received some kind of favor. The name itself can change the nature of something, at least in the perception of ordinary people."
"But this is just the beginning. The name has changed, and the methods must also change."
He continued, "The biggest problem with Lamorien is that he made the whole process too ugly and too rough. He allowed people to clearly see chains and whips, blood and crying."
"If it were me, I would turn the shackles into flowers and ritualize and sanctify the process of sacrifice."
After hearing this, Gordon already had a clear understanding.
He nodded and continued along this line of thinking, "For example, a few days in advance, the priest of Temple will give the notification and invitation."
"It is best for the sacrifices to be from their own race."
"Having people see someone like themselves going through this process will reduce a lot of resistance."
"Let them wear sacred and neat robes and tell the chosen ones that they will receive glory and favor. They are not here to arrest people, but to invite people."
"Then the process of taking away was no longer with chains and whips, but with floats and carols."
Gordon is easy to understand, and the description gradually becomes more detailed.
He continued with great interest, "The chosen ones will wear the best clothes, which are provided by Temple. They are clean and decent. They will sit on a carriage decorated with flowers and silk and slowly pass through the streets of the city."
"On both sides of the street, let the priests scatter flower petals."
"Bard Sing a hymn that celebrates the devotion of the chosen and the blessings they bring to all."
"In the end, people will only remember flowers, white horses, and carols. Some people may even begin to yearn for it, wondering why they are not the chosen one."
Red Iron Dragon nodded gently to express approval.
But then he said, "That's not enough."
"Flowers and carols can only deal with ordinary people. Those knowledgeable people, intelligent creatures who truly understand the operation of power, can still realize the essence of this matter. They can see that it is robbery, just covered with a beautiful coat."
Gordon was silent for a while, his huge head lowered slightly, thinking.
"A recommendation system can be established."
he finally said.
"Each region elects a representative. Let the most prestigious local elders or nobles serve in this role. They have the power to recommend the chosen one and also have the power to exempt certain families."
"In the final analysis, it is to allow the oppressed to participate in the oppression themselves and divide them."
"Let the oppressed keep each other in check and spend their energy on internal games instead of uniting against the real oppressors."
Garos glanced sideways slightly, with obvious approval in his eyes.
"Gordon, you are smarter than before.
97
"It seems that you have been responsible for maintaining the operation of the kingdom over the years and have gained a lot from it. You have gradually understood what ruling is all about."
he said.
Iron Dragon shook its tail, and its scales made a slight friction sound, "Domination is an art, and I am still far behind in this art."
"It all depends on your guidance, brother."
As he spoke, he lowered his head humbly, but he still couldn't hide a hint of pride in his tone.
Garos retracted his gaze to the west and said instead, "I am going to go to Orotara again. Just like last time, you just do what you should do. Remember, don't relax your vigilance and continue to stare at Lord of Thunder."
A few days ago, news came from Seroel.
Nausir After about eight years of discussion, he finally agreed to use meteorites as reward and entrust him to fight.
This time is longer than Garos expected.
The main reason is that the battle did not last too long.
Orcs rushed forward in one go, but after failing to achieve effective results, their shortcomings in logistics and other aspects were quickly exposed, and they had to withdraw their fists before they were fully launched.
Now that the threat has been temporarily lifted, the tradition of slow discussions in Nausir Council has returned.
It took eight years.
Recently, Orc couldn't hold himself back anymore.
Their legions regrouped and prepared to launch a large-scale invasion.
At the same time, it was also because he smelled the smoke of war and saw Garos's outstanding performance in that battle with his own eyes that Nausir's council finally passed the commission proposal.
"Don't worry, Aura leave this to me."
Iron Dragon responded, then waved his wings and jumped off the high platform. His figure gradually disappeared under the thick clouds and flew towards the royal city.
Garos Stay where you are.
He stretched out his paw and touched his head.
After these years of continuous training, he has basically returned to normal from Sky-Rending Form, and his attributes have also increased a lot. Now only the corners and some thorns on his body still look sharp and sharp, which are the remaining traces of Sky-Rending Form.
Elsewhere the original outline has been restored.
"Getting meteorites can save you the long Mutation Value accumulation time."
According to the normal rhythm, it takes a long period of time to accumulate enough values to trigger the next mutation, but meteorites can skip this process directly.
"I just don't know if the next mutation will give me a better new form."
This kind of experience like opening a blind box always arouses expectations.
Naturally, Garos cannot help but look forward to the next mutated form.
He hopes to obtain a better mutation than Sky-Rending Form. Sky-Rending Form has achieved the ultimate in acuity and speed, but there is still room for improvement in other aspects.
In addition, he actually still has some nostalgia for the extreme sensitivity brought by Sky-Rending Form.
"If we can gradually adapt to the mutation itself and make it controllable to a certain extent, perhaps we can switch between different forms through the traces left by the mutation."
He touched some sharp thorns remaining on his body and thought in his mind.
At this time, the message Seroel came from the bottom of my heart.
"Are you ready? The war here has begun."
she asked.
Garos gathered his thoughts and gave a positive answer, "Give me the spatial coordinates."
The Demons of Atlant have died down, and Lord of Thunder is entrenched in the west and is temporarily unable to get away.
Although there are still many hidden dangers, at this point in time, the overall situation is relatively peaceful and there is no need to worry too much.
He can go to Orotara with confidence.
"Go ahead and take over the battlefield."
"Let Orcs once again recall the fear of being dominated by the Red Emperor."
Seroel said with a smile and passed the coordinates at the same time.
Immediately afterwards, Red Iron Dragon stretched out his paw and made a light stroke.
The space in front of him suddenly cracked like paper, and a crack opened in front of him.
At the same time.
Orotara, Blackstone Wasteland.
The earth is trembling.
Orc Legion is like a dark green tide, coming from the end of the horizon and covering the entire field of vision.
Their number was uncountable, and countless pairs of feet stepped on the ground, converging into a continuous roar.
At the forefront is Orc warrior.
They are generally more than two meters tall, with gnarled muscles and dark green skin. Each one's skin is covered with war patterns and totem symbols. They hold a huge battle ax or a mace studded with iron nails. Their pupils are burning with a fanatical fighting spirit, and a low roar comes from their throats.
The entire army looked like a group of Beast about to pounce on their prey.
In some key locations, there is Totem Pillar moving with the legion.
It was a huge wooden pillar that was hundreds of meters high. Its surface was engraved with Orc war patterns and Deity symbols. It extracted the fighting spirit from the surrounding Orc warriors, gathered and condensed it, and then radiated it back in a special form, forming various beneficial effects.
Even beings at the Legendary Realm level can obtain significant enhancements from it.
The top of Totem Pillar is engraved with a huge broken leg bone pattern.
This is a emblem.
God of Brute Force, Beast of Valor, the strong one, the king of broken bones----the above are all Deity represented by this emblem, a Orc Deity named "Bagchu".
All tribes in the Kantum Empire follow its teachings.
The strong must oppress the weak, and power is truth.
The weak will be scorned and their bodies shattered.
Brute force belongs to the Eternal Realm. Don't have cunning thoughts. Loyalty to the leader is the only thought that should be in your mind.
Under the continuous influence of these teachings, the entire Kantum Empire practices the law of survival of the weak and the strong from top to bottom. Orc has been instilled with these concepts since birth, and when he grows up, he will naturally become part of this set of laws.
In addition, Beast of Valor, who believes in Cantum, has a more widely circulated name.
Son of Ge'ushi.
Orc Lord God, Hated Shura, One-Eyed War God, Never-Sleeping Conqueror. The above titles all belong to the powerful evil god named Ge'ushi.
Orcs roared and kept moving forward in the name of God.
At the front of the legion, there is a huge war beast. On top of the beast's head stands General Destiny Rank of the Orc clan. He holds a huge battle ax and is surrounded by blood-red light.
"Charge!"
"For the glory of Cantum! For the glory of Beast of Valor!"
"Crush those weak pointy ears!"
The earth trembled even more violently under the feet of countless Orc, forming a huge dust wall that swept towards the Elf position with an unstoppable momentum.
Opposite, Elf position.
It is completely different from the violence of Orc Legion.
Elf The warriors lined up in a neat square formation and were ready. The longbows of the sharpshooters were fully drawn, and the arrows were covered with magical light. Spellcaster The whole body was filled with strong Magic Energy... The long-range war weapons in the square formation further behind were already charged and ready.
As long as Orc steps into the attack range, it will be hit head-on.
But at this moment, the sky suddenly split open.
Like a paper knife cutting through a white paper, a huge space crack appeared above the battlefield without warning. The edges of the crack were neat and smooth, and inside was a bottomless darkness.
Then, a pair of sharp claws poked out from the crack.
It is red in color and covered with fine scales. Each scale reflects a metallic luster. The tips of its claws are as sharp as a knife. They grab the edge of the crack and tear it outward.
The crack doubled in size instantly.
A low dragon roar came from the crack, as if it was coming from a very far away place, or as if it was ringing in my ears, and then, a huge figure jumped out of the crack.
Red Emperor Pale Star, Red Emperor, Immortal Dragon.
Garos·Ignas.
His figure was more majestic than eight years ago. When the dragon wings spread out, they covered half of the sky and cast a huge shadow on the ground.
This Red Emperor Pale Star from Atlant glanced across the land below and landed on the dark green tide.
His pupils formed a vertical line, and his face was expressionless.
Boom boom boom.
Without a word of nonsense, the dragon's body ignited with surging golden flames.
Four additional giant arms condensed from the flames, and together with his main arms, there were a total of six Dragon Arm.
They lift at the same time.
The golden flames gathered, compressed, and condensed in the heart of each claw, turning into dangerous spheres, like miniature suns imprisoned between the claws by a giant dragon, emitting dazzling light and scorching temperature.
"Now, pray to your god."
Red Iron Dragon whispered and waved its six giant arms.
One after another, Dragon Aura Bomb detached from the center of the claw, falling downwards with a golden trail, and were continuously condensed, dropped, condensed, and dropped again.
Large-scale legion combat?
Quantity is meaningless in front of Garos. In terms of damage and destruction alone, it far exceeds the normal Destiny Rank. Power of One Dragon can destroy an extremely large legion.
Golden trails filled the sky, like a sudden meteor shower, pouring down towards the Orc Legion.
General Destiny Rank of the Orc Legion raised his head and his pupils suddenly shrank.
"Defense!"
In an instant, all Totem Pillar lighted up at the same time.
War patterns and symbols flowed on the pillar, and the fighting spirit of the Orc warriors was extracted, gathered, and condensed, forming a huge shield above their heads, which also increased the strength of their own Legendary Realm.
The bloody light around General Orc soared into the sky.
The battle ax danced into a blood-colored barrier, smashing and blocking Dragon Aura Bomb one after another, but there were too many Dragon Aura Bomb, and their power was so powerful that it was like the entire sky was pouring out anger towards him.
Destiny Domain was quickly blown to pieces.
The other Legendary Realm didn't dare to resist at all, just like birds and beasts scattered in clouds. Those who reacted a little slower would have a narrow escape.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The first Dragon Aura Bomb broke through the blockade and officially exploded.
The shield trembled violently and cracks appeared on the surface.
The second, third, and fourth one——Dragon Aura Bomb exploded one after another, and the cracks on the shield spread rapidly, covering the entire surface like a spider web.
Then, it broke.
The totem shield completely collapsed under the indiscriminate bombardment of Dragon Aura Bomb and dissipated into the air. The runes on the pillars were eliminated one by one, and the wooden pillars themselves began to crack.
Dragon Aura Bomb continues to fall.
Without the shield to block them, they smashed directly into the array of Orc Legion.
Rumble.
Like countless suns rising from the surface of the earth.
The entire Blackstone Wasteland was constantly shaking, and countless huge potholes were blown out of the ground. The bottom of each pothole was burning with golden gas flames, turning all materials in contact into ashes.
The sky was obscured by thick smoke and dust.
But the golden light still penetrated everything, illuminating the entire apocalyptic scene.
Under such a terrifying blow, the Orc Legion was already strong enough even if they were not completely defeated, let alone continue to charge.
In the back, Elf position.
Deathly silence.
Those Elf warriors with handsome faces and tenacious wills were witnessing a scene like Calamity in front of them.
The vast majority of them completely lost control of their expressions, their eyes widened, their mouths slightly opened, and they stood there dumbfounded, without their usual elegance or wartime seriousness.
Orc's first wave of attack.
It's already over before it really begins.