The Ogre Camp finally returned to its semblance of past tranquility after the ravaging by the Red Dragon and the Centaur, except for the traces of buildings turned to ash by the unextinguished Dragon Fire and the bodies strewn across the ground.
The bodies of the dead Ogres and shredded Centaurs were piled together. These Ogres had not discarded the customs left by ancient times. They were still on the brink of civilization’s ignorance, something Ogre Giantess Fafnir could not reverse in merely a dozen years. So these bodies would become the Ogres’ food.
They would always make full use of all available resources, perhaps the only aspect that could be considered a virtue of the Ogres.
As for Moergo, who tracked the departing Red Dragon alone, even the awakened Ogre Giant Demon did not worry about this Ogre in the slightest. Even though Fafnir looked down on this Ogre, she had to admit the powerful strength of the Ogre Tyrant. Long ago, the leader of the Centaur Tribe was brutally torn apart by the Ogre Tyrant, surrounded by the Centaurs, using his bare hands.
These Ogres still yearned for Moergo to drag back the corpse of the Red Dragon, allowing them to have a share. These Ogres had tasted everything in this forest, except the flavor of the Giant Dragon’s flesh.
The Red Dragon was so strong and fierce; eating it might enable the Warriors in the tribe to grow a second head. The Warriors who drank the Dragon Blood might awaken the great ancestral bloodline like Ogre Tyrant Moergo and become a master among the Ogre Tribe. Such thoughts indeed stirred some cravings among the Ogres.
But when the silhouette of the Red Dragon soared above the Ogre Camp, all Ogres were filled with intense doubt, "The Red Dragon came back, so where is Moergo?"
The Ogre Giant Demon was no longer at ease; how could the Red Dragon return? It was known that Moergo was not only the strongest in the Ogre Tribe but also the most adept at tracking prey. No prey ever escaped the punishment of his Giant Axe. Maybe Moergo was right behind the Red Dragon; he was about to return.
Moergo came back! The massive head of the Ogre Tyrant, scorched by the Dragon Fire, was hurled down by the roaring Red Dragon from mid-air. The steel-hard skull landed heavily in the center of the Ogre Camp, raising a cloud of dust.
From the fierce head, Moergo’s spirit, even in death, still emanated the powerful Ogre-exclusive aura of defiance. Even the particularly strong-minded Ogre Giantess Fafnir could not help but feel a surreal sense of panic from deep within, perhaps heralding the doomsday of the Ogre Tribe today.
The rampaging Dragon Fire spread once more in the fear-shrouded Ogre Tribe, where the formidable Ogre Warriors in the forest were chased by the Centaurs they previously looked down upon.
They forgot that they held far superior and sharper weapons than the Bone Spears and Wooden Spears, forgot that their Leather Armor was far tougher than the Beast Hide donned by their enemies, only focused on fleeing like the prey that once fled under their tyranny.
The Warriors of the Centaur Tribe had never felt so exhilarated as today, the pounding hooves propelling the Shotguns in their hands to pierce through the enemy’s bodies casually, with the enemies even too terrified to resist.
The mighty Centaur Zhuge charged at the forefront, his long Shotgun piercing through two fleeing Ogres at once. Before he could retract the Shotgun, he impacted a third Ogre, the half-inch Gunpoint extending from the bodies of the two Ogres stabbed into the enemy’s heart.
Zhuge pushed forward, leaving his weapon within the Ogre’s body, picking up the Iron Spear dropped by those Ogres to continue the slaughter. Behind him were Oni and Kali, who likewise had switched weapons. The three strongest Warriors led the sturdy Centaurs, trampling blood underfoot, turning the Ogre Camp into a domain of carnage.
Karon did not waste time chasing down the already spiritless Ogres. After releasing Dragon Fire around the camp, he ignited every corner of the Ogre Camp with the unextinguished Dragon Fire.
Then he folded his wings and landed. Although relying on Magic Power, the Dragon could still fly; missing half a wing made controlling his direction and speed during flight tricky.
He stepped to the White Dragon and Blue Dragon laid down by the Centaurs earlier. The two Dragons, tormented considerably, appeared mentally fatigued, but their eyes brightened upon seeing the Red Dragon’s arrival.
"I knew you’d come to rescue us, Karon," the White Dragon Gomot struggled to move forward. Despite being force-fed pounds of poison each day, the Giant Dragon’s body was now weary and weak.
The White Dragon crawled before Karon, lifted his head, and looked at the tranquil Red Dragon; timid and cowardly, he was not disappointed. Karon still protected him, as he always did with the Dragon Group.
"I didn’t agree to the Ogres’ request to betray you all," the White Dragon spoke as a child seeking praise, "Carlette betrayed the Dragon Group, Karon, you must be careful."
The Red Dragon didn’t speak but lowered his head, using his intact right claw to assist the White Dragon up, gently touching the White Dragon’s forehead with his own head, then bumped heads with Akzhi beside him, embarrassed by his youth as a Young Dragon.
The Red Dragon finally spoke: "Gomot, you are very brave and did well. I cannot ask for more. Also, Akzhi, both of you are part of the Dragon Group and my brothers; I will not abandon you. As for Carlette, she made her choice, and naturally, she will bear the consequences."
Karon raised his head, pointed at the remaining viable Ogre forces gathering around the resisting Ogre Giant Demon, and said: "Come, follow me, watch me crush those daring enough to invade the Dragon Group, bringing the flames of revenge and blood to this land."
Fafnir was surrounded by the Ogres who hadn’t escaped into the forest in front of the tent, the almost transparent gauze veiling her alluring figure unable to hide it. She inclined her ear, listening to the chatter of the Forest Beldams perched on her arm; it was the Ogre Dual-headed Wizard Sahai’s message conveyed through other Banshees. She knew she might have one more chance.
Fafnir could choose to escape into the forest like other fleeing Ogres, but doing so would mean the Ogres could never rise again, only becoming a wandering tribe like other weaker clans, something a ambitious Fafnir could not endure.
Moreover, she believed in the bloodline inherited from the ancient Soul-devouring Sea Demon; as long as she could control the Red Dragon, the situation would be reversed, and the Ogre Tribe would be stronger than ever before. The potential of the Giant Dragon was far beyond the foolish Ogre Tyrant’s grasp.
The message from the Ogre Mage Sahai further solidified her resolve, so she raised her arm reflecting in the sunlight to shout: "We surrender, the Ogre Tribe is willing to submit to the powerful Giant Dragon."