Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

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　“I can’t control her!” Elminster tore up the spellbook and roared at Casalos.

　"Then let Simb handle it?" Casalos pressed on relentlessly. "Storm Silverhand is a good girl in front of Simb, right? If that doesn't work either, then how about I teach her a lesson? Look how well I've taught Isis!"

　"Cassaloz, what exactly do you want!" The son of the paladin was truly enraged: "Waterdeep is facing the threat of another war, this is not the time for you to gossip."

　85. Seizure of power

　"War? Heh, with your current defensive setup, you wouldn't even know if your home base was wiped out." Casalos's tone suddenly turned serious, his massive dragon eyes narrowing slightly, a cold glint in his pupils. He pulled his head back from the council chamber window, collapsing half a wall, and the iron dragon's enormous body slowly rotated on the ruins of the tower, its tail sweeping across the ground with a low whistling sound. The people in the council chamber were momentarily stunned by its imposing aura; even the charred fragment of the map in Piergaren's hand nearly slipped from his grasp.

　“You?” Piergelen frowned, his tone clearly suspicious. He suppressed his displeasure, trying to maintain some authority as a public lord. “Cassaloz, you may be strong, but Waterdeep’s defenses have their own methods. The combination of the Wardens and Gryphon Riders is enough to deal with the Flamefist Mercenary Group’s attack. What makes you say we’re courting disaster?”

　Casalos chuckled, a burst of fiery sparks spitting from its nostrils, hissing as they landed on the ground. It lowered its head, its massive beak almost touching Pilgalen's face, its voice deep yet carrying an undeniable, authoritative pressure: "On what basis? Because the few years I've ruled Waterdeep are worth more than the decades you've spent here as a mascot."

Chapter 341

　More. Enough with the nonsense. I'm too lazy to explain anything to you rigid, old-fashioned people. Let's get straight to the point.

　"Procedure? What procedure?" Kelben Black Staff finally couldn't help but speak, his black staff pausing slightly, a hint of wariness in his eyes. Ilminster also put down his spellbook, his white beard trembling slightly, clearly puzzled by Casalos's actions.

　Casalos did not answer directly, but instead raised his dragon head and let out a long, melodious roar. At first, everyone was puzzled, but a moment later, the doors to the council chamber were suddenly pushed open, and several figures clad in black robes, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods, filed in. Their figures were uniform, their steps synchronized, each step carrying an eerie rhythm, as if they were all the same person—this was merely a secret method to conceal their identities.

　“Secret Lords, you?” Pilgalen’s pupils contracted sharply. Of course, he knew who these men in black robes were. The dark gold insignia on their chests represented the true power core of Waterdeep, and the power of the open lords came from them. Their identities were secretive; even Pilgalen, the open lord, did not know their true identities. He only dealt with them on certain occasions but had never truly grasped their movements.

　“That’s right.” Casalos grinned, revealing a sly smile. “Since you don’t trust my judgment, let the true master of Waterdeep decide. I propose that we initiate a public lordship vote, immediately strip Pilgalen of his position, and hand over the authority of the public lord of Waterdeep and control of the army to me. Raise your hand if you agree.”

　The leader of the black-robed men raised his head, revealing a greyish-white mask. He glanced at Piergelen, then at Casalos, and said in a low voice, "Iron Dragon Casalos, do you know what this means?"

　“Of course I know,” Casalos said calmly and firmly. “It means Waterdeep won’t become a dead city under your noses. Enough talk, let’s vote.”

　The atmosphere in the council chamber suddenly became tense. Piergelen's face turned pale, then flushed. He opened his mouth to retort, but found himself unable to find a suitable reason. Kelburn and Elminster exchanged a glance, both with complex expressions in their eyes, but neither spoke up to stop him. The Secret Lords' Alliance was the core of Waterdeep's power structure; they were the true decision-makers who dominated Waterdeep, and their will was more unquestionable than that of the open lords.

　The men in black robes exchanged a few whispered words before a vote was held, with more than two-thirds voting in favor of Casalos. The leader coldly looked at Pilgalon, his voice devoid of emotion: "Vote passed. From this moment forward, the Iron Dragon Casalos assumes the position of Public Lord of Waterdeep, commanding all the city's armies. Pilgalon, you can rest now... Of course, don't forget you are still the son of a paladin of the Glorious City."

　"What?!" Pilgalen jumped to his feet, his eyes filled with shock and rage. "Are you all insane? Letting a dragon lead Waterdeep? This is simply..."

　“It’s the best option.” Casalos interrupted him, a hint of mockery in his voice. “You think I’m just saying this casually? Piergalen, Waterdeep’s ‘national strength’ far surpasses Baldur’s Gate. Even after a fierce battle, it’s still far superior to those plague-ravaged creatures. Your choice of a defensive strategy is the biggest mistake of all. Regardless of whether you win or lose, the war itself will inflict devastating losses on Waterdeep, just like the demons of Melkor, who fought directly within the city and destroyed countless city blocks.”

　Piergelen froze. He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to refute anything. Melkor's demons had indeed been summoned directly within the city; the Watchers had no time to react, and several areas of the city were utterly destroyed, still not fully restored. Casalos's words, though harsh, hit the nail on the head.

　“The demons were summoned directly into the city by Melkor, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Pilgalen said through gritted teeth. “But now the Baldur’s Gate army has come from afar, we have the advantage of walls and barriers, why should we give up?”

　“That’s why I said you’re stupid.” Casalos flicked his tail dismissively, making the floor of the council chamber tremble slightly. “Who told you that going forward means fighting in open field battles? Who told you that you should send the Watchers forward? The Watchers are essentially just a security force. You’ve been sitting in the position of public lord for so many years, and you haven’t even built a real army for Waterdeep.”

　"The Glorious City doesn't need the kind of army you're talking about!" Piergalen roared, his tone carrying the stubbornness typical of a paladin.

　“Wake up! Put away your foolish paladin morality.” Casalos sneered, his voice deep and imposing. “This is politics, this is war, not child’s play! Have you forgotten how the City of Glory was built? The souls of the dead are still watching you! Waterdeep is the most dazzling jewel of the Sword Coast, and there are countless people, or things, who covet this land. The reason you are 'the greatest public lord' is not because of your mercy, but because others are bearing the burden for you! It is the Keepers of the Secrets, the Hundred Rivers Society, and even the evil Marel who have shouldered your responsibility to guard Waterdeep! Kyleben has even been expelled from the Harpists’ Alliance for protecting Waterdeep!”

　"What?!" Everyone in the council chamber was shocked, and their eyes all turned to Kelburn. The latter's face stiffened, and he turned his head away, remaining silent, clearly acknowledging the fact.

　"Forget it... why bother telling you all this?" Casalos shook his head, his huge dragon eyes sweeping over everyone present, his tone tinged with impatience. "Just because your Waterdeep doesn't mean mine doesn't have an army."

　"What?" The crowd exclaimed in unison again, their voices filled with disbelief.

　Casalos ignored their shock, raising its forepaw and gently waving it. A deep dragon roar emanated from its throat, transforming into invisible waves that rapidly spread outwards. A short while later, the sound of orderly footsteps echoed outside the council chamber, as if an army was approaching.

　"Let me show you what true power is." Casaroz grinned, revealing a sinister smile. "You still think the threat comes from the Flame Fist Mercenary Group, from those few Sons of Baal, you have no idea where Baal's true army is..."

　"What?" The crowd exclaimed in unison for the third time, their voices filled with fear.

　Casalos stopped teasing, slowly turning its head to gaze at the labyrinthine streets of Waterdeep outside the council hall. There, kobold half-dragons shed their disguises, revealing scales and wings of Iron Dragon blood; bards peeked out from taverns and ruins; and dragons reverted to their dragon forms. Above, the dragon singers were slowly gathering, their imposing presence and chilling killing intent palpable.

　86. Deployment

　A chilling atmosphere hung heavy in the air of Waterdeep's central square. Casalos's massive form perched atop the ruined tower, overlooking the gradually gathering army below. The Ironblood half-dragon kobolds, clad in strange black soft armor, gripped enchanted heavy crossbows, their outstretched wings reflecting a cold light in the setting sun. They rallied together, their eyes burning with fanaticism, marching in perfect unison, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly, as if announcing their presence to the entire city.

　Members of the Bards' Guild stood scattered throughout the ruins, clad in light leather armor, holding harps or other musical instruments, their eyes gleaming with anticipation for battle and a touch of poetic romance. Hidden dragons and singing dragons perched atop the city's sturdy buildings, occasionally letting out low growls, sometimes exchanging hushed conversations in dragon language, awaiting new commands.

　The people inside the council chamber had already followed Casalos to the edge of the square. Piergelen, Kelburn, and Ilminster stood on the steps of the ruins, their gazes shifting between shock and confusion. They had never imagined that such a force lurked within Waterdeep—a hidden power.

Chapter 342

　They knew about the dragons, and the flocks of singing dragons flying around outside the city were obvious to anyone with eyes. Even those without eyes could count their numbers long ago from listening to their daily chorus. But where did those half-dragons and bards come from? How could they form an army with the Hidden Dragon and the Dragon Singing Gate, and who was this chattering iron dragon behind them?

　“Three hundred half-dragons, all exemplary.” Casalos’s voice was deep and authoritative, with a hint of sarcasm. “Through the trade routes of Ratambirol, I’ve shoved them into Waterdeep in batches, to wear human skin and run and protect my businesses there… None of you guys noticed.”

　"You're in cahoots with the 'otherworldly merchants'?" Piergaren was still somewhat unwilling.

　Casalos shrugged his wings: “What else? We are staunch allies. Look, there’s Kenneth the Tidecaller, he’s with us too. He’s developed the Waterdeep Bards’ Guild, with two hundred battle bards of Exemplary caliber or higher, each capable of killing with melodies on the battlefield. Besides, there are over twenty dragons represented by Shaving Tooth and The Thinker, including several steel dragons from the Hundred Rivers Guild. Although they have some minor conflicts, they stand on my side. The hundred or so song dragons outside the city are also ready to answer my call and join the battle at any time—you’ve already seen this, without their help, the losses caused by the demons summoned by Melkor would probably be several times greater than they are now.”

　“This…” Piergelen opened his mouth, trying to say something, but the words ultimately turned into a sigh. He couldn’t deny Casalos’s thorough preparations, nor could he refute the impact of this army’s existence. While the Watchers of Waterdeep were skilled in urban warfare, in the face of real war, they were indeed, as Casalos had said, nothing more than a security force.

　“Cassaloz, how did you do that?” Elminster finally couldn’t help but ask, his white beard trembling slightly, his eyes filled with inquiry. “Where do these half-dragons, hidden dragons, and singing dragons come from? Waterdeep is not some dragon paradise.”

　“Loyalty?” Casaroz scoffed, his massive dragon eyes narrowing slightly, a cold glint in his pupils. “Whitebeard, do you think I’d try to reform them with mercy and morality like you old fogies? That half-dragon dog was raised by me; from the moment it hatched, it only knew to be loyal to me. As for the Hidden Dragon and the Song Dragon… I’ve maintained a good relationship with them for many years, forging a steadfast alliance through fair trade—supplying them gems, magical equipment and items, dragon magic, and everything else that dragons are interested in. Dragons have their own social rules, not loyalty to anyone, understand?”

　Upon hearing this, Elminster frowned slightly, clearly surprised by Casalos's methods, but he said nothing more. Kyleben snorted coldly and muttered under his breath, "A fair trade...that does fit the order."

　Casalos ignored their reactions. He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over the army in the square, his tone carrying an undeniable air of authority: "This is not the time to discuss these things. Baal's real threat is not the Flamefist Mercenary Group, nor those few Baal's sons, but the undead legion marching from the bottom of Sword Bay. Those undead creatures are numerous, carrying the plague of Lavok. Once they land in Waterdeep, the mortals within the city will be utterly unable to withstand their encroachment."

　“The bottom of Sword Coast?” Piergaren’s expression changed, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes. “You mean… Baal has already taken control of the undead at Baldur’s Gate?”

　“Of course.” Casalos flicked his tail dismissively, causing the ground to tremble slightly. “Didn’t you notice that some familiar faces are missing from the Hidden Dragons? While you were busy holding meetings and discussing things, I had already sent ‘Thinker’ Ohmora Sedar and ‘Tide Chanter’ Kenneth to lead the bronze dragons to infiltrate the waters of Sword Bay and set up a perimeter. As soon as the undead army makes a move, the news will be relayed back immediately. But a perimeter alone is not enough; we must take the initiative and drag the battlefield outside Waterdeep.”

　"Take the initiative?" Kelburn frowned, his tone tinged with skepticism. "You mean abandon the walls and barriers of Waterdeep and engage in direct combat?"

　“Fool.” Casalos interrupted him mercilessly, his tone tinged with impatience. “I told you, Waterdeep’s defensive strategy was flawed from the start. Baal’s undead army is vast in number but slow in movement. We can easily wear them down by using the underwater races to block them before they even land. As for the Flame Fist Mercenary Group… they’re just pawns Baal is using to distract us. I’ll personally lead a raid to harass them and make sure they don’t even get a glimpse of Waterdeep.”

　"Harassment?" Elminster stroked his chin, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes. "You're planning to use the advantage of that sky to send the half-dragon and the song dragon to harass the Flame Fist Mercenary Group?"

　“Not only that.” Casalos grinned, revealing a sinister smile. “I’ve also prepared some good stuff. The Griffin Knights will accompany me, carrying a large number of gunpowder barrels to bombard the Flame Fist Mercenary Group’s formation from the air. So what if they’re the strongest field army on the Forgotten Realms? In the face of gunpowder and dragon breath, even the strongest formation will have to break apart.”

　“A powder keg…” Piergellen’s lips twitched, clearly speechless at Casalos’s tactics. “Are you trying to fight a battle without any rules?”

　“Rules?” Casalos scoffed, his voice laced with coldness. “What rules are there in war? Winning is the rule, losing is death. If you still cling to the moral code of paladins, then just wait to be crushed to dust by Baal’s army.”

　Piergellen was speechless, turning his head away to try and calm his anger. Casalos ignored him, turning its gaze to the distant Sword Bay, muttering to itself, "The Thinkers and the Tidecallers should be ready by now..."

　Meanwhile, in the darkness of the Sword Bay seabed, a herd of bronze dragons swam silently. Their wings were slightly folded, and they moved swiftly across the seabed using only their tails and fins. Their innate control over electricity gave them a wide and precise range of perception even underwater.

　Of the ancient dragons that entered the race years ago, the "Thinker" Ohmora Sedar is the largest, its dragon eyes half-closed, extending its perception to distant places. Meanwhile, the "Tide Chanter" Kenneth swims beside it, chanting dragon incantations in a low voice, the surrounding seawater rippling slightly with its chanting, forming invisible magical barriers.

　“The orders have been delivered.” Kenneth stopped chanting and said in a low voice, “The movements of the undead legion have been confirmed. They are approaching from the direction of Baldur’s Gate and are expected to land on the east side of Sword Coast in three days.”

　“Three days…” Ohmora Sedar opened his dragon eyes, a cold glint flashing in them. “That’s enough time. Those fishmen are hiding deep in Sword Bay. If the children lure them a little, they will take the initiative to stop the undead legion. After all, whether it’s the Shahua fishmen or the Koto fishmen, they are a bunch of irritable and warlike creatures, and they won’t tolerate anything provoking them.”

　“I hope so.” Kenneth nodded, his tone tinged with caution. “However… if the merfolk cannot stop the undead army, we will have to take matters into our own hands and delay their landing.”

　"Don't worry." The Ohmorath dragon's beak was tightly closed, and its voice came from its throat: "Since Casaloz entrusted this task to us, he must believe in our strength. The undead legion is nothing. I'd like to see what kind of waves they can make on the seabed."

　Meanwhile, on the trade route outside Waterdeep, the vanguard of the Flamefist Mercenary Group was closing in. Their banners fluttered in the wind, and the insignia of Baal's death gleamed sharply in the setting sun. A son of Baal, mounted on a tall warhorse, surveyed the distance with a cold gaze and hissed, "Speed ​​up! The walls of Waterdeep are in sight!"

　Unbeknownst to him, the griffon riders of Waterdeep were silently approaching from the sky.

Chapter 343

　Heavy barrels of gunpowder hung from their claws, the eagle's eyes reflecting the marching procession. Further away, Casaloz's enormous figure, completely disproportionate to its age, slowly followed, followed by a mixed force of slow-flying half-dragons and hidden dragons and singing dragons that deliberately slowed their speed to cooperate with the half-dragons, their killing intent surging.

　87. The First Wave of Attack

　War is the mother of suffering, but also a catalyst for change; however, this change may not necessarily proceed in the direction envisioned by the instigators of the war.

　Casalos's air strike force easily completed the first wave of attacks on the Flame Fist mercenary group, achieving results far exceeding expectations. The well-trained air force coordinated perfectly, with the griffon riders scattering gunpowder barrels like seeds, deftly passing over the Flame Fist mercenary group's formation along a pre-planned trajectory, dropping seeds of death.

　"Boom!" The first gunpowder barrel fell from the sky, striking precisely in the center of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group's vanguard formation. The explosion instantly engulfed dozens of soldiers, and the shockwave tore apart the surrounding formation. Immediately afterward, the second and third gunpowder barrels fell in succession, explosions echoing one after another. Each seed that landed burst open, exploding with a deafening roar and blinding flashes of light.

　The vanguard of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group, renowned for its elite troops, had never faced such a devastating catastrophe. In an instant, the once orderly ranks were scattered and their disciplined formation crumbled under the bombardment. Experienced officers attempted to regroup, but the continuous explosions rendered any orders impossible to relay. Fear spread among the soldiers, and the ranks crumbled faster than anticipated.

　As the explosions from the last batch of gunpowder barrels subsided, the half-dragon legion descended onto the chaotic battlefield, like eagles landing among rats. The well-trained half-dragon hounds, in groups of three, darted across the rugged terrain, unleashing a barrage of crossbow bolts, reaping the fleeing mercenaries. Any brave soldiers who attempted to retaliate were easily torn apart by the dragons' claws or engulfed by their fiery breath. The bards, who had landed alongside them, stood at the edge of the battlefield, playing inspiring melodies to bolster the courage and strength of the half-dragon soldiers, while simultaneously unleashing despairing death songs to demoralize the enemy.

　The dragons in the air continued their relentless breath attack, spraying flames, lightning, and acid, providing powerful air support for the ground forces. Two legendary warriors and a son of Baal from the vanguard of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group attempted to organize a counterattack amidst the chaos, but were held back by several dragons and barely made a dent.

　In just five minutes, the first legendary warrior was torn to pieces by the besieging dragons, while the second, seeing the situation was dire, surrendered in time and survived.

　Baal's Son, realizing the tide had turned against him, pulled out a black runestone and began chanting an incantation. Just as he was about to teleport away, Casalos, who had been watching, unleashed a burst of dragon breath, now cracked and broken, which instantly engulfed him.

　But as the flames subsided, only half a charred black runestone and a pool of smoking blood remained. The Son of Baal, though severely wounded, had managed to escape.

　"The current disintegration is still too weak." Casalos snorted coldly, quite dissatisfied that his attack had failed to take effect.

　The vanguard of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group had completely collapsed, with hundreds of corpses lying scattered on the ground. Many more soldiers had either been captured or were fleeing. In the distance, the main force of the mercenary group seemed to have received the news and was accelerating its advance.

　"Withdraw! Half-dragon legion and bards, take off immediately!" Casalos let out a deep dragon roar, conveying the order to retreat.

　The half-dragon legion quickly regrouped, spread its wings, and took to the air with the bards. Hidden Dragon and Singing Dragon provided aerial support, and the entire evacuation proceeded smoothly and methodically.

　The first battle was a resounding success. Not only were the vanguard of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group annihilated, but a legendary warrior was captured, and another was killed. Although the Son of Baal escaped, this was still a considerable achievement. Now, it remains to be seen how the main force of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group will respond.

　During the evacuation, Casalos whispered to Akrons, who was flying beside him, about the situation in Waterdeep: "Have the specific losses been tallied yet?"

　Ekrons was among the first to follow Casalos and now manages all of Casalos's properties in Waterdeep. Its wings trembled slightly, clearly sensing the Dragon Lord's wrath, and it respectfully replied, "A total of 2236 properties were damaged. Of these, 574 suffered minor damage requiring only simple repairs, 1419 suffered partial structural damage requiring partial demolition and reconstruction, and 243 required complete demolition and reconstruction. The demons did not engage in looting; the loss of resources was mainly due to items buried under collapsed buildings and looting by some residents after the chaos began. The construction team should be able to salvage a considerable amount of buried items, and the Watchers are responsible for recovering what was looted, so the losses are not expected to be significant. In the battle against the demons, we suffered 13 deaths and 241 injuries, including 116 serious injuries. Because the demons' attacks are imbued with strong negative energy, and our magic is very unstable, even Lady Isis cannot handle the situation alone, and the injuries may continue to worsen..."

　As Ekrons provided a detailed report, Casalos's anger gradually subsided. Each piece of data regarding the losses felt like a sharp thorn piercing his heart.

　After fighting Cyric in the sky and returning to Waterdeep, Asgrass saw the city ravaged by the demons and, having given the dragon the ability to discern changes in its possessions at a glance, made it realize the extent of its losses.

　It wasn't unaware of this situation; after all, Melkor was hiding in Waterdeep. It had done everything in its power to eliminate Melkor, the root of the problem, as quickly as possible. However, it hadn't anticipated that Cyric would cause trouble, allowing the demons of the underworld to wreak havoc in Waterdeep for an extended period, resulting in severe losses to its Waterdeep assets that far exceeded its tolerance threshold. Keep in mind, most of Waterdeep now belonged to it!

　Every dragon's obsession with its own wealth is etched deep within its soul. For any dragon, this is a pain that cuts to its flesh and skin... No, it's much more painful than that. It's the pain of angina, gallstones, and burns all over the body. It's a pain that requires end-of-life care!

　Whose fault is this? Melkor is already dead, Cyric is nowhere to be found, and the dragon's rage has nowhere to go. The only possible connection is Piergaren's poor handling and the Wardens' slow reaction.

　Casalos had warned them beforehand to deploy city defenses, yet these guys only reacted halfway after the demons flooded into the city. Whose fault is it if not theirs? Otherwise, why would it have unleashed such a barrage of attacks on Pirgellen? With those mountains no longer weighing on its head, it felt relieved and became a little more talkative, but only in the realm of jokes. This time, it practically slapped Pirgellen across the face, even initiating a vote in the Secret Lords' Alliance to strip him of his power. If it weren't for the Holy Knight's son's good temper, he would have drawn his sword and dueled it long ago.

　It was fortunate that Casalos was determined and rational enough; otherwise, another dragon might have fallen into dragon rage and slaughtered everyone—the wealth lost this time could have been enough for other dragons to struggle for thousands of years.

　A good scolding and a power grab wouldn't solve the problem, so Casalos could only vent his anger on Baal and the Flamefist Mercenary Group. Defeating the Flamefist Mercenary Group would be equivalent to taking Baldur's Gate into his possession, and he hoped that this new port city could make up for some of the losses in Waterdeep.

　Other hidden dragons probably think the same way.

　As the scouts returned from their reconnaissance mission, a half-dragon flew to Casalos's side and respectfully reported, "Just as you predicted, Baal is not with the Flamefist Mercenary Group."

　"What about underwater?" Casalos didn't say much, his gaze turning towards the direction of Sword Bay.

　"The Singers have sent word that they haven't found any trace of Baal either. He..."

　"Heh, then let's do as He wishes and make a scene outside." Casalos interrupted the scout: Baal's strategic intention wasn't really to conquer Waterdeep. Whether it was the Flamefist mercenary group on the surface or the Death Army hidden underwater, they were all...

Chapter 344

　A decoy. His true purpose was singular: Isis and the Tablet of Fate in Midnight's hands.

　There, Casaloz had prepared an interesting trap for Baal, and now he was going to play along, pretending to be lured away from the mountain.

　88. Underwater

　The deep waters of Sword Bay, like a thick curtain, swallowed all light and color, dividing the world into countless blurry areas. The pressure of the seawater was heavy and icy, and the water's volume severely obstructed vision. In this sunless deep-sea environment, even the sharp eyesight of aquatic dragons could only barely capture blurry outlines within a few meters. Hundreds of meters of water blocked sunlight, with only a very small amount of light penetrating through the layers of water, casting dim shadows on the surface.

　The bronze-colored eyes of "The Thinker" Ohmora Sedar gleamed as it attempted to pierce the thick curtain of water. As a level 10 dragon overlord, it was accustomed to commanding vast armies on a clearly visible battlefield, but the unique underwater environment forced it to adjust its tactics. Although bronze dragons possessed natural advantages for underwater activity—an innate ability to breathe underwater, and fin-like structures on their limbs and tails that allowed them to swim with agility—vision was almost completely negated in the pitch-black depths. Even though the bronze dragons' favored electric field perception became more acute underwater, the inherent limitations of the electric field restricted the range and accuracy of their detection.

　It's sufficient for hunting, but far from enough to support battlefield situational awareness.

　Kenneth Zimno, the "Tide Singer," swam to the Thinker's side, its bronze scales creating subtle ripples with each movement. As a Level 12 bard, Kenneth possesses a unique sensory ability—it can emit sound waves of specific frequencies and interpret echoes, constructing a sound map in the dark depths by mixing high and low frequencies.

　“The Shahua fish-men tribe has taken the bait,” Kenneth transmitted the information remotely underwater through a specific low-frequency hiss. “Their seventeen tribes have organized five thousand warriors to hunt down the ‘hunters’ we sent, and they are moving toward the pre-set area. The Kotao fish-men seem to be more interested in our young dragons, and have sent nearly three thousand eight hundred warriors, along with those disgusting shark hunters.”

　The Thinker let out a low, almost imperceptible dragon roar, its way of expressing satisfaction: "The competitive spirit among merfolk is always so intense. If one tribe decides to hunt dragons, the other must send out more warriors to prove its strength. And we, we simply need to cleverly exploit this."

　The Thinker's use of the term "mermaid" reflects the Bronze Dragons' attitude towards humanoid aquatic creatures like the Sawa fish-men—they don't consider fish-men to be human, but rather as fish that resemble humans.

　In the deep-sea ecosystem, bronze dragons see these evil underwater humanoid races as food, while merfolk regard dragons as the most dangerous predators.

　Normally, when not hunting, bronze dragons maintain a cautious distance from murlocs. But this time, the Thinker devised a daring plan: to send young bronze dragons to repeatedly harass and hunt murloc tribes, provoking them to form an alliance to hunt down these "aggressive" dragon hunters.

　By carefully controlling the speed and direction of the young bronze dragons' luring, the Thinker planned to guide the enraged murloc army to a point where it would collide with the undead army, causing the two forces to wear each other down.

　"How far away is the army of the undead?" the Thinker asked, turning his dragon ears to try to catch any unusual movements in the distant water.

　“According to sonar feedback, we will reach the pre-designated combat zone in about two hours,” Kenneth responded, closing his eyes as if sensing the subtle changes in the water. “The reports from the advance scouts are nauseating—the undead moving underwater seem to be pushing a clump of filth, leaving the seawater rotten and viscous, the seaweed withering, and the fish dying. The plague in Lavok is spreading faster in the water than on land.”

　Kenneth's dragon scales rose slightly, a way for bronze dragons to express their disgust: "That's why these murlocs are perfect cannon fodder—they may be evil, but they instinctively resist this pollution of the marine ecosystem. If the undead army is allowed to cross Sword Bay, the entire sea will become stagnant."

　“That’s right,” the Thinker nodded. “Our mission is not to annihilate the undead army, but to buy time to reduce their numbers as much as possible and slow down their landing. Casalos needs time to deal with the Flame Fist mercenaries on the ground.”

　Two bronze dragons swam side by side toward the designated command post. Twelve young bronze dragons—all the participating bronze dragons except for the Thinker and the Tide Chanter—were scattered across the vast sea, constantly stimulating and guiding the murloc forces toward the pre-arranged battlefield. These young dragons moved nimbly through the water, appearing and disappearing at will, keeping the enraged murloc forces determined to pursue.

　The bronze dragons maintained absolute silence, exchanging essential information only occasionally through encrypted low-frequency calls. In the extremely restrictive environment of the ocean floor, over-reliance on vision would lead to fatal errors. Instead, they relied more on electrical sensing, changes in water flow, and sound echoes for location and communication.

　"Location 7 reports: The Shahua murloc tribe has entered the designated area," a young bronze dragon telepathically reported. "They have sent out scouts to search for our tracks."

　"Position number four reports: Kou Tao murloc tribe army is approaching from the east, faster than expected, and will encounter Sha Hua murlocs in about twenty minutes."