21. The Dragon Lord's Forest

The chieftains of the three great clans, leading throngs of orcs, abandoned the lands where they had waged war for centuries and stepped into the dense, verdant Emerald Mountains.

Scorching sun and torrential rain, disease and vermin caused many an orc to fall forever on this path of migration.

This absurdly long procession was permeated with an atmosphere of sorrow and bewilderment. The orcs remained immersed in the joy of past slaughters, never imagining that they could be utterly defeated by the humans they once viewed as base creatures. They found the current turn of events impossible to accept.

"Brothers, I know you are all dejected."

The Bloodwolf chieftain, sensing the confusion of his kin, roared at the dispirited ranks:

"But we have not been defeated! Orcs will never be defeated!"

"We go to seek refuge with the ruler of these Emerald Mountains, the ancient Green Dragon Lord—Emerald. These dense, jungle-clad mountains are named after him."

Bloodwolf struggled to recall the information the tribal shaman had imparted to him days ago:

"Emerald is a true dragon, an ancient dragon who has lived for over a thousand years, a survivor who has endured from the distant era of the Great Dragon Empire to this very day."

"That is a dragon—a true dragon."

"Long before those disgusting elves ruled the continent, dragons were the sole masters of the earth and sky!"

"That dragon lord already commands many goblins, kobolds, orcs, and humans. He also possesses numerous half-dragon offspring and draconic monsters."

"I have heard that the ancient dragon Emerald continues to recruit forces, accepting the worship of more mortal races, and is preparing to further expand his territory. He has long been eyeing the river valleys occupied by the humans of the north!"

"The warriors of our three clans are formidable. If we go to pledge our service, he will surely accept us."

"Perhaps in less than two years, relying on the dragon's great might and our combined forces, we will be able to march north once more, return to the lands where we once battled humans, slaughter every last one of them, reclaim everything we have lost, and avenge our fallen brothers!"

Listening to the impassioned words of the Bloodwolf chieftain, the orcs felt a surge of renewed spirit.

After the heartfelt speech, the Bloodwolf chieftain scanned the crowd and asked the high priest beside him:

"Where is Horg Bloodwolf? That one-armed fellow. Why have I not seen him?"

The chieftain held a deep impression of this one-armed orc, the warrior who had been the first to survive a battle against a human mage and who had escaped the sea of fire in Bloodscar Canyon alongside him.

"One-armed Horg?" The high priest struggled to recall the orc.

"Yes, why haven't I seen him?"

"Did he not follow us?"

Before the priest could search his memory further, the orcs at the front of the procession suddenly stopped.

They saw that the forest ahead had changed—

Trees stretching across the mountains and plains were arranged in impossibly neat rows, forming walls and passages that created a massive labyrinth.

A forest maze spanning miles!

Tens of thousands of birds circled above the forest maze, every single one of them an eye and ear for the ancient dragon.

This was the lair of the ancient green dragon.

A green dragon's magic is inextricably bound to the forest.

"Orc clans from the north."

"I saw you the moment you stepped into this forest."

A magnificent voice suddenly resonated. The ancient dragon's voice echoed between the sky and the earth, causing the very woods to tremble.

"I accept your service."

"Enter, and show your loyalty to the Dragon Lord!"

The next moment, the forest maze ahead shifted abruptly. Trees and shrubs moved of their own accord, clearing a wide path. The orcs stared in horror, witnessing for the first time the legendary and magnificent magic of dragons.

***

At the center of the forest maze.

Inside the dragon's lair, piled high with treasure.

The giant dragon with emerald-green scales opened his eyes, using his will to manipulate the trees and open the way.

"It seems the number of lower races serving me is about to increase."

"Since this group of orcs is willing to pledge their loyalty, my plan can finally be set in motion..."

The green dragon Emerald had been in a foul mood lately.

One thing troubled him: he was too old.

He had lived for over two thousand years, having witnessed with his own eyes how the Dragon Empire, which once ruled the entire continent, crumbled, and the subsequent rise of the Elven Courts.

He had witnessed the emergence of the weak, new race called humans upon the earth.

He had witnessed how humans learned magic from those loathsome elves.

He had witnessed how those human ancestors, who first mastered magic, built floating cities to isolate themselves from the ground-dwelling rabble.

To witness the rise and fall of civilizations, his physical body had endured a span of time longer than the lifespans of many kingdoms.

To transcend time, to be as long-lived as this.

This was the nature of a true dragon.

Witnessing the decay of the empire was an immensely painful experience. During the era when dragons ruled the world, Emerald was the only son of a great noble.

The vast fief he was meant to inherit covered nearly the entire barbaric eastern reach of the continent.

—This included the river valleys where the humans of Eldoren live today, and much more.

Back then, as a young dragon, Emerald had looked forward to coming of age and inheriting his lands.

However, with the destruction of the Dragon Empire, those past expectations had become nothing but shattered bubbles...

"Why? Why did it come to this?"

"If not for being mired in a thousand-year war with the giants, how could the Dragon Empire have weakened?"

"If not for the giant pantheon descending in their true forms to participate in the war, bullying our dragon pantheon which had only two true gods, how could the foundations of the Dragon Empire have been shaken by the weak giant race?"

"If not for the collapse of the empire, we would still be the masters of this continent. How could we have yielded the mountains to the dwarves and the magic-rich forests and the most beautiful lands in the center of the continent to the elves?"

"By what right did the Elven Courts become the masters of the continent?"

"Even those orcs, goblins, dwarves, and the newly appeared weak race called humans are able to occupy the magpie's nest and seize my fief!"

After the fall of the Dragon Empire, Emerald, with his unique status, was hunted by many enemies and forced to hide and skulk for many long centuries.

It was only in the last few decades that he dared to show his face.

Relying on the terrifying power of an ancient dragon, he conquered the entire Emerald Mountain range—a small portion of what should have been his fief—and spent years fusing his magic with the mountain forests, sowing half-dragon offspring, and gaining the loyalty of numerous goblins and kobolds to build his own power base.

Now, Emerald noticed that in the north of the mountain range, those vast lands that also belonged to him were now occupied by the race called [Humans].

Humans and orcs, like clowns, warred with each other on land that should have been his, each claiming it as their own.

The Green Dragon Lord Emerald intended to send his army to conquer those inferior races and reclaim his land, only to discover his own problem—

He was too old.

Even for a long-lived dragon, twenty centuries of life had brought him to his limits.

The lifespan of the chromatic dragons, in the end, could not compare to that of the metallic dragons.

He had to remain in this forest, which had become one with his soul and magic, relying on the nourishment of the forest's life force to hold onto his final breath.

To leave the forest and launch a war to reclaim his lands would only hasten his end.

Emerald knew that in the days of the Dragon Empire, the oldest ancient dragons could perform a grand magical ritual to achieve a sublimation of their soul and physical essence, evolving into the final stage of true dragons—the Great Wyrm—gaining infinite lifespan and god-like power.

Much like how most of the so-called "dragon gods" in the dragon pantheon were, in substance, merely powerful Great Wyrms lacking complete divinity.

However, the method to become a Great Wyrm had long been lost with the destruction of the Dragon Empire.

This left Emerald, whose life was nearing its end, profoundly anxious.

It was only recently that Emerald found a black magic ritual originating from the ancient Dragon Empire, an evil ritual requiring ten continuous years...

It gave him hope for a prolonged life.

***

"What?"

"Great Dragon Lord, Master of the Woods, Emerald Dragon King, you want us to sacrifice 6,000 orcs?"

The chieftains of the three clans heard the Green Dragon Emerald's ritual requirements, and all were struck with horror.

"Surely there are elderly, crippled, or otherwise weak and useless orcs in your tribes."

"Trade 6,000 of the old, weak, and sick for my protection. For you, this is a very favorable deal."

Green Dragon Emerald spoke with the seductive tongue of a devil.

"What is the matter? Do you orcs not pride yourselves on the rule of strength?"

"Use the lives of the useless to exchange for the chance to rise again."

"Faced with such an affordable deal, why do you hesitate?"

The green dragon flashed a sinister, cunning grin.

"Once I spend ten years absorbing the life force of all the sacrifices, I will not only gain a thousand years of life, but I will be more powerful than I am now!"

"Do you not wish to take revenge on the humans?"

"When the time comes, I will lead you north myself to reclaim my lands, and you will be able to take your revenge on those loathsome humans."

As a green dragon, the most skilled in temptation among the chromatic dragons, Emerald knew well the humiliation these three orc clans had suffered and understood their psychological weaknesses.

He coaxed them, his honeyed, poisonous voice flowing into the ears of the three chieftains.

After a long silence and hesitation, the chieftain of the Frost Dragon Clan finally spoke:

"No, I do not accept. If it comes to that, we will leave. We will abandon the Emerald Mountains and go elsewhere!"

"That's right, I'm leaving too!" the chieftain of the Flame Axe Clan added.

The current Frost Dragon and Flame Axe chieftains were successors who had taken power after the original chieftains died; they were of a different generation than the Bloodwolf chieftain, fiery and young orcs.

Orcs can be defeated, and orcs can die in battle, but they could not accept such humiliation—to servilely submit by actively sacrificing a large portion of their own kin!

"Is that so..."

The green dragon Emerald sighed with great disappointment.

"Then be gone."

Emerald's tone carried a hint of helplessness and loss.

The chieftains of the two clans turned, intending to lead their people away.

The next moment, a cloud of green, corrosive gas descended upon them from behind.

The dragon's breath!