The Red Iron Dragon hung in the high sky, surging flames rippling across his massive body.

Hundreds of meters in diameter, shining like a blazing sun.

Wave after wave of shockwaves radiated outward from him, spreading in all directions and making the clouds churn.

Those gathered tufts of cloud were torn into threads by the shockwaves, then completely scattered by the next blast.

As time passed, the flames around the Red Iron Dragon condensed, their color growing darker, shifting from bright scarlet to deep crimson, the aura becoming increasingly dangerous and frenzied.

It felt like a volcano being forcibly suppressed.

Internal pressure kept building, magma roaring below as it searched for an outlet, but being confined beneath the crust the oppression intensified, even making the surrounding air grow viscous.

One minute later.

Boom!

The entire sky trembled violently, countless clouds shattered, revealing clear blue heavens, and sunlight poured down unobstructed, bathing the Red Iron Dragon’s colossal form.

Under that blue sky, he panted heavily, his chest rising and falling violently.

“Still not enough...”

Garoth repeated several deep breaths, gradually calming the wildly surging Dragon Qi inside his body.

He could feel the out-of-control energy rampaging within; if his dragon body weren’t tough enough, he would likely have suffered severe internal injuries.

So far, developing the explosive-qi state had always ended in failure.

He had tried every method.

Adjusting the Dragon Qi’s circulation paths, changing the rhythm of release, even attempting to forcibly intervene at the moment of eruption, but nothing worked.

He had also experimented dangerously with the Dragon Pearl.

When the Dragon Pearl shattered, the energy released also changed character, no longer gentle and unable to be absorbed as he wished; most of that violent energy dissipated into the air, with only a tiny fraction barely assimilable.

Worse, it caused severe backlash, as if countless knives were stirring inside him.

Pain and injuries were nothing—Garoth even relished them.

They meant his body was enduring, adapting, and growing stronger... For him, every backlash was a training session, a calibration between body and energy.

At the same time, he roughly understood the reason.

“My energy is too vast; that’s an advantage, but it also means that once it goes berserk, even I find it hard to control.”

“This isn’t something a few tries can fix.”

He muttered, eyes flickering with thought.

Many techniques could be mastered through repetition and practice.

For example, his Dragon Qi shaping and the Dragon Emperor Interdimension skill were both developed from the Spell-Extinguishing Claws, relying on experience and proficiency.

He had practiced hundreds or thousands of times, repeating until his body memorized every detail.

But the explosive-qi state was fundamentally different.

It wasn’t a technique.

No matter how many times he repeated it, the result wouldn’t change.

It was like a human trying to become an eagle—no matter how much practice, they couldn’t learn flying; it was an essential difference that practice couldn’t bridge.

“Like asking a fish to learn to climb a tree; no matter how smart the fish is, or how long it trains, it will never truly climb a tree unless it changes itself first.”

Garoth thought of the analogy and couldn’t help chuckling softly.

“But that’s not a huge problem for me.”

The Red Iron Dragon lifted his head, expressionless. In fact, recognizing the fundamental cause of the explosive-qi failure relaxed him considerably.

Other creatures could repeat endlessly and still fail.

But Garoth was different.

He could evolve, alter his essence, and thereby reach mastery of the explosive-qi state. This sort of thing wasn’t his first rodeo; he already had familiar procedures.

If he was willing to put in the sweat,

his body would respond to the effort.

That visible positive feedback was one of the reasons Garoth could endure the tedium and immerse himself in training; with every evolution he felt the change clearly, the increase in strength tangible.

“The only problem is, that level of evolution usually requires a period of slumber.”

“Slumber...”

Garoth fell silent.

He was now over two hundred and forty years old, in his prime.

By his estimate, barring accidents, his slumber would probably arrive around his three hundredth year; given his condition, the sleep might last nearly a hundred years, maybe longer.

Also, a dragon’s slumber period doesn’t change linearly.

Before reaching prime, each age bracket’s slumber time gradually lengthens.

Hatchlings sleep only a few years, primes sleep for decades.

But from prime onward through the Ancient Dragon stages, age brackets shift every two hundred years—for example, four hundred years sees old dragon stage, six hundred years extreme old stage, eight hundred ancient dragon, a thousand up to Ancient Dragon...

At the same time, slumber durations stabilize and don’t fluctuate wildly.

Whatever the prime slumber length is, subsequent ones are similar.

Only after the twilight of the Ancient Dragon stage does slumber time become unstable again, sometimes decades, sometimes centuries.

Those who can’t hold on quietly perish in slumber, permanently dead.

Those who endure can repeatedly break limits, eventually achieving an Immortal body.

“My slumber periods have always been longer than other dragons.”

Garoth recalled every past slumber: “The key is, I’ve never evolved traits that shorten slumber. Hmm... probably because my evolutions require time accumulation, not one-off changes.”

“If every slumber from now on takes a hundred years, that’s a terrible waste of time.”

At that thought, the image of Cerora appeared in Garoth’s mind.

If the Green Queen really could shorten slumbers as she claimed, or even trigger earlier slumbers... to some extent, her value to dragons might surpass an entire kingdom.

The problem was, he couldn’t confirm whether she was telling the truth.

A flash of inspiration struck Garoth, and he used his bloodline link to call his offspring.

“Laria.”

Garoth said, “Gather information on the Green Queen, especially records on those great dragons under her—focus on two points: age and life level, the more detailed the better.”

If the dragons that followed Cerora early on showed life levels widely above the average for their age,

that would explain a lot.

“Yes, Father, I understand.”

Laria responded.

Garoth said no more, concentrated his mind, and returned to his work.

He mainly trained his body to adapt to the explosive-qi state.

Even if he couldn’t fully master it, he could try to make his body gradually tolerate that berserk state; even holding out one more second was progress, and it laid groundwork for evolution.

During rest he would consume low-nutrition materials and combine that with deep breathing, intentionally practicing energy conversion adaptation.

Thus time passed slowly.

From late spring to winter, from the smoke of the central continent dissipating to the powers settling into their positions, a year went by.

Many things happened during that year.

The Aola Kingdom did not slack off after victory. During this period they did three main things.

The first was sending people.

The northern quarter of the central continent’s lands was several times wider than the entire Romanian Plains.

There were fertile valleys for crops, long mineral veins for mining metals, dense forests for timber, flat grasslands for grazing...

All good things, but they needed people to develop, garrison, and manage them.

The Aola Kingdom had a sizable population, but that was for a northern-border kingdom.

Facing a quarter of the continent, Aola’s population still felt insufficient; wide territories left undeveloped would only become wilderness.

So they did the second thing.

Dividing the pie.

Garoth ordered the northern central lands distributed to other kingdoms from the Romanian Plains.

Theo, Reebos, Lothrian, Matna, Cambruk... those who had signed the union treaty and chosen to become Aola’s vassals each received a substantial territory.

It wasn’t free.

But the price was simple.

Thirty percent of each nation’s annual output—whether ore, timber, grain, or other products—was to be handed over to Aola; the remaining seventy percent they kept to develop.

The day the King of Theo received word, he dispatched three large pioneer groups loaded with artisans and warriors, grandly heading into the central lands.

The others did similarly.

They rushed to the central continent to enjoy the fruits of victory.

If these nations had previously submitted to Aola out of coercion and might, now...

the situation was different.

Tangible benefits had arrived.

For example, Lothrian at its zenith never expected to obtain territory in the central continent; upon receiving the news their king held an emergency council and the next day set people out.

Compared to the past where rivalries were like mangy dogs fighting over scraps, now they had wide lands.

Aola gave them an escape from vassalage they did not want to refuse; the Romanian nations now clung to Aola’s power because they understood only by following Aola could they secure a broader future.

In Romania, the Red Emperor was the most sacrosanct figure.

Lothrian’s Holy King?

A thing of the past.

The name that once struck awe across the Romanian Plains was now merely a historical footnote, occasionally mentioned as part of Aola’s rise.

The third thing was “birth.”

Aola’s control over reproduction had always been strict.

It was longstanding state policy, a necessary means to maintain social stability. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Races like kobolds and gnolls bred too prolifically; ogres and ogre elites also multiplied rapidly when resources were abundant and could expand quickly.

Unchecked population growth would explode beyond state capacity, bringing myriad problems. So strict control was necessary.

Now, Aola lifted reproduction restrictions.

It was predictable that Aola’s population would soon soar, long-suppressed fertility unleashed; new lives would be born in waves, the kingdom revitalized with vigor.

This was Garoth’s intention.

Territory expands, population must follow; relying on migration from other kingdoms was only a stopgap—only growth of his own people could truly secure the land.

“...Lothrian progressed fastest among the nations, already building three settlements in the Green River Valley; Reebos was slower, their lands had many powerful monsters, so they cleared them first; Matna’s goblins are best at choosing spots, they’ve started mining and extracting black oil...”

Across from him, iron dragon Sorog roughly reported the recent developments.

“Our people have also occupied every key point.”

“Main passes, ferry crossings, resource nodes are now under our control.”

Garoth nodded slightly; these developments were expected.

“However...” Sorog’s tone shifted, “our army numbers are somewhat lacking now.”

“Dispersed across the vast lands, garrisons at each key point are relatively thin.”

“Aola’s troop count needs to multiply several times to truly hold these territories and develop resources efficiently.”

Garoth considered for a moment and said, “These things are not urgent; proceed step by step.”

“Expanding the army takes time; ensure key positions are defended first, and address the rest gradually.”

Iron dragon Sorog nodded, then added, “There’s one more matter.”

“Speak.”

“I’m thinking whether to relocate the capital again.”

“Relocate the capital?”

Garoth looked up at him.

“Yes.” Sorog organized his words and explained, “Now the kingdom’s center is shifting toward the central continent; while the Red Emperor Capital’s current location is decent, it’s too far north. Moving into the central continent would make overall governance far more convenient.”

“Also, the central continent has richer resources and greater development potential.”

Garoth’s eyes showed thought, then he shook his head.

“No relocation, at least not now.”

He raised a dragon claw and pointed upward.

The floating cities of Halden.

Those massive constructs still hovered above the central continent, silently overlooking the land. One had fallen, but the others remained steady, casting enormous shadows day after day.

“Who can guarantee they won’t fall?”

“The central continent’s surface security is only superficial; Halden’s sky-cities are like giant bombs that could detonate and fall at any time. The last fall brought Abyssal Rifts and a demon invasion.”

“If a Great Demon or even a demon king descended, the central continent would be the first to suffer.”

“If we stay here in Romania, we actually gain some preparation time. Then we can choose to fight or retreat depending on the situation. If we relocate the capital there, it’d be too close—if something happens, retreat might be impossible.”

Sorog nodded, “Understood, I hadn’t thought that through.”

“You weren’t wrong to consider it,” Garoth said. “In the long term, relocation is inevitable, but not now. Wait until the sky-city issue is resolved.”

After a short further conversation, the iron dragon turned and left.

Garoth then walked out from inside the palace to the highest point of the Dragon Court that rose above the clouds.

When he had nothing to do, he often came here to look around.

Great dragons liked heights, and Garoth was no exception.

At this vantage point, when he lifted his gaze his sight could sweep across mountains and rivers, taking the vast domain into his view, gazing down on the land like a deity.

As always.

The Red Iron Dragon exhaled a stream of scorching breath, raised his head, and stared into the billowing sea of clouds.

Below the clouds, winter snow danced, dressing the earth in silver; mountains, forests, rivers were covered in white, sparkling like crystal under the sun.

Above the clouds, sunlight poured down, gilding the floating mists with layered brilliance—magnificent and dazzling.

It felt like two worlds.

The Red Iron Dragon admired the scene, his chest swelling with a sense of openness.

He took a deep breath, ready to begin today’s training soon.

But then his gaze suddenly stiffened, looking toward the central continent.

High in the distant sky, a sky-city began to lose control without warning and plummeted toward the ground.

It was on the northern side of the central continent, closer than last time.

Garoth’s True Eye could see more clearly.

He saw countless buildings on the falling sky-city fracturing; stone, timber, and metal shards scattered everywhere. A faint purple energy flowed intermittently, surrounding the great city and forcing it downward.

Garoth recalled the last sky-city fall.

Back then he also noticed the purple energy, but not as clearly as now; at the time he thought the city itself had problems, but now it seemed more complicated.

Only a few figures escaped the city, desperately flying away.

The vast majority of Halden’s people fell with it.

Rumble!

The earth trembled; even on the Rhen Plateau Garoth felt the slight shock, the sound muffled and distant, like the land groaning. It sounded like a huge creature giving a death wail.

“This spot... it’s falling on my territory.”

He scanned the distance and saw that besides dust and flames the fall site was suffused with a purple aura representing evil and chaos.

Those energies spread from the wreckage like living things, creeping outward.

Vegetation withered, the ground cracked, the air turned foul.

That usually meant an Abyssal Rift would be born.

“Like last time, an Abyssal Rift appears with the fall of a sky-city.”

Garoth looked up at the many giant cities still suspended in the sky, his expression dimming.

This suggested each fallen sky-city could create a major Abyssal Rift; if someday more cities fell at once,

it was unimaginable how many demons would flood the Atlantis Continent,

a disaster that could sweep the whole world.

The Red Iron Dragon’s eyes sharpened, flickering with a glimmer of thought.

When the Abyss was subdued last time, the demons would have remembered him, the Master of Aola, most of all—and those demons likely have spies on the Atlantis Continent.

Was this sky-city that crashed into the northern lands of Atlantis a coincidence?

Or... was it targeted at me?

“The Material Plane isn’t easy to invade, or it would have fallen long ago; the scale of this Abyssal Rift probably won’t be huge.”

“Hopefully it’s just a small problem.”

He muttered.

But deep inside, Garoth had a strong premonition that this matter would not be so simple.