The storms of the wilderness became increasingly chaotic and dangerous; Vicious Beasts and demonic creatures grew restless, and territorial disputes never ceased.
Meanwhile, among the distant Southern Kingdoms, the large-scale civil war sweeping across the entire Federation intensified, with the fires of war burning across nearly every inch of land worth fighting for.
After an Early Stage of chaos and indecision, many duchies and kingdoms had completely split into two diametrically opposed camps.
They stood in sharp opposition to one another, as incompatible as fire and water.
The first was the Crusade Faction, centered around the Kingdom of Ripos and joined by numerous allies.
Its members had signed strict covenants with the Kingdom of Ripos, declaring they would advance and retreat together.
Acting in the name of the Holy King to restore order to the Federation and punish rebellious offspring, they openly labeled the current King of Lothern as the 'Sinner King.' They were determined to crusade against the Sinner King, purge the royal family's stain, and restore peace and clarity to the Federation.
Their slogans were loud, and they occupied the moral high ground in public opinion.
The second was the Royalist Faction, centered around the Kingdom of Lothern itself and uniting some of its traditional allies.
Its members resolutely upheld the legitimacy of the Kingdom of Lothern, believing the King undoubtedly possessed the Holy King's Bloodline. Although his methods of fratricide and usurpation were indeed extreme and ruthless, legally speaking, it did not constitute rebellion, as he was a member of the royal family to begin with.
They denounced the Crusade Faction as a group of ambitious opportunists trying to profit from the chaos and destroy the Federation's stability. In the name of defending the Holy King's legitimacy and maintaining the Federation's unity and order, they vowed to set things right and root out the treacherous flatterers.
As time passed, signs appeared that the scales of victory were beginning to tilt.
The Crusade Faction had absorbed a greater number of duchies and kingdoms; its comprehensive national strength, troop numbers, and resource reserves were stronger. They gradually established an advantage in the major war zones, continuously encroaching upon the borders and strategic strongholds of the Royalist Faction.
In contrast, the Royalist Faction, fighting on multiple fronts, gradually appeared exhausted and passive.
However, this grand civil war had not yet reached its truly white-hot final stage.
The slight advantages currently gained could be lost in an instant on a rapidly changing battlefield due to a single major strategic error or the loss of a key battle.
As for who would ultimately have the last laugh in this civil war that would decide the Federation's future fate, no one could say for certain at this moment.
At this time, deep within the Lothern Royal Court.
Inside a meticulously tended, flower-filled imperial courtyard.
The sky was gloomy, and a sparse, cold drizzle fell silently from the gray firmament, wetting the vibrant and rare flowers in the courtyard, their petals adorned with crystal-clear water droplets.
Two figures were strolling through this rain-swept courtyard.
One was a woman with a tall, slender figure, dressed in an elegant court gown with exquisite features.
The other was a middle-aged man with a relatively ordinary appearance but an exceptionally heroic and upright stature. Between his brows and eyes, a majestic Aura of natural authority radiated, as if the entire world revolved around him.
The woman was none other than the Crystal Princess, who maintained close ties with the Ignas Dragon Flight.
The man beside her was her biological elder brother, named Aubrien, who was also the current King of Lothern—the man who had ascended the throne through fratricide and Ironblood methods, and who was now at the center of the storm.
At this moment, with the King of Lothern at the center, there seemed to exist an invisible absolute Domain around them.
As he strolled, whether it was the rain falling from the sky or the wet puddles already accumulated on the tile ground, they all vanished without a trace like pencil marks erased by an invisible eraser, revealing a completely dry and clean surface.
Neither his magnificent royal robes nor Princess Elena's skirt, half a step away from him, showed any sign of being wet by the rain.
Neither his magnificent royal robes nor Princess Elena's skirt, half a step away from him, showed any sign of being wet by the rain.
This was no simple water-repelling Spell, but the signature technique of a Legendary powerhouse—the [Domain].
Opening and maintaining a Domain usually required focused concentration and the consumption of power, often reserved for intense combat or critical moments.
To be able to maintain the effects of a Domain so effortlessly during a daily walk, as if by instinct, usually meant the user's level of control over their Domain had reached a tier far beyond ordinary Legendary experts.
"Royal Brother, the Kingdom of Ripos and its allies are pressing closer step by step, their offensives coming in wave after wave."
Princess Elena had no heart to appreciate the clear sky maintained by the Domain; her heart was with the land and the state of the war, her face carrying an indelible worry.
She said softly, "If the situation continues to develop like this..."
"...and if we make no changes and leave it be, I fear our disadvantage will only gradually expand... Should we consider changing some strategies, or think of some other way to break this deadlock?"
King Aubrien shook his head slightly, his pace never faltering.
His expression was calm and unhurried, seemingly unmoved by his sister's concerns.
"Elena, you are too anxious."
"War is a contest of national strength, as well as a battle of wills and time; this is not something you should worry about excessively. I have my own plans." His voice was steady and full of confidence as he continued, "This internal strife, no matter how many twists and turns the process takes, will ultimately end in our complete victory. There will be no other outcome; of this, I am deeply convinced."
Elena wanted to say more, attempting to present some unfavorable intelligence from the front lines, but she was directly stopped by Aubrien's gentle yet indisputable words.
"My dear sister,"
He stopped, turned his head, and let his gaze fall on Elena's exquisite but weary face, his tone softening slightly.
"What you need is to relax, to enjoy the flowers and tranquility of this courtyard, rather than exhausting your mind thinking about those major affairs of state that should not be your responsibility."
"Your sorrow is already written on your face."
As he spoke, he slowly raised a palm and, across a small distance, lightly brushed over Elena's face.
In an instant, the few fine lines on Elena's face caused by worry and fatigue vanished, and her skin became incredibly smooth.
She seemed to have instantly returned to her most flawless state from her youth, with even the tiniest imperfections wiped away.
However, Elena did not feel the slightest bit of joy for this near-miraculous beauty treatment; instead, her brows furrowed slightly.
"They were just a few insignificant wrinkles; they were of no consequence to me."
"You know that I have never placed excessive importance on my appearance like other princesses."
She reminded him, "You should use your Domain more cautiously. Every time you rewrite reality, you are paying with the price of your life. This concerns your longevity."
The theoretical lifespan of humans whose life level had leaped into the Legendary Domain often did not receive a massive increase to match, and was far from being able to compare with long-lived species.
This seemed somewhat unreasonable.
The most crucial reason for this lay in the existence of the Domain.
A Legendary expert gained power beyond the mundane by controlling a Domain, but mastering and using this power that touched the world's rules was not without cost.
Every time the Domain was activated.
Every time the rules of a local area were rewritten.
It was a burden and a drain on the Legendary expert's own life Origin.
With frequent use of the Domain, these burdens would continuously accumulate, irreversibly wearing down and eroding the Legendary creature's lifespan.
A human Legendary expert, if they completely refrained from using their Domain after their promotion, could steadily live for over a thousand years.
However, this was almost impossible.
One cannot use a Domain before reaching Legendary status, and after going through countless hardships to reach it, to then not dare use it for fear of consumption... what would be the point of becoming Legendary? It would be a waste of the achievement.
Of some, there were indeed exceptions.
For example, within the deep-rooted Kingdom of Lothern, there secretly existed some ancient Legendary guards who chose to seal away their own Domains through special rituals.
They would only be awakened to fight for the kingdom at any cost during its most perilous moments of extinction.
Such foundations were bound to exist in any powerful kingdom with a certain historical accumulation; they were their final trump cards.
Compared to the Kingdom of Ripos, which had been aggressively expanding its influence in recent years, the Kingdom of Lothern had indeed seemed somewhat stagnant and lacking in Breakthroughs.
Yet it could still gain the resolute support of a group of nations amidst the swaying winds and rain.
Precisely because its ancient foundations were deep and unfathomable, such that no one dared to underestimate them.
"It matters not."
The King merely smiled faintly, seemingly not taking his sister's reminder to heart at all.
His voice paused, and he suddenly changed the subject, asking, "That, well, stout Iron Dragon you keep—where has it gone?"
Seeing her brother's indifference, Elena felt helpless and could only answer, "The Starfire Monastery."
"Gorton likes the feeling of being admired, so he often goes there for people to visit."
The King nodded slightly, not pressing for more details about the Iron Dragon or the monastery, as if he had only mentioned it in passing.
Immediately after, he chatted with Elena about family matters for a while before turning to leave the courtyard and returning to the palace to handle his own affairs.
"Brother... seems blinded by the confidence accumulated from countless past victories; he's underestimating the enemy a bit too much."
Left alone in the courtyard, Elena watched her brother's departing back and let out a faint sigh. The worry in her heart had not diminished, but had instead deepened.
In her view, confidence was necessary for a ruler.
But what Aubrien was displaying now was overconfidence.
The Kingdom of Ripos and its allies were coming with aggressive momentum and full preparation. Although the Kingdom of Lothern had a deep foundation, victory was by no means guaranteed against such a powerful foe.
Her slender fingers tightened slightly, and her chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she struggled to suppress her chaotic thoughts and regain her composure.
"I cannot directly influence or intervene in the war's front-line layout and strategic decisions."
"However, I absolutely cannot sit idly by. I will use my own methods to secure as many opportunities and bargaining chips for the kingdom as possible."
She decided to further increase her investment and support for the dragon flight.
Although the destruction of the wilderness base wasn't a severe blow to the front lines, it had more or less caused some loss in supply channels and strategic distractions.
Elena wasn't content to just watch; she had to do something.
On the other side, in the Serel Wilderness.
A thick curtain of rain still shrouded the vast and dangerous land, with no sign of when the skies would clear.
While the Southern Federation's civil war raged on, the Molten Iron Tribe's overall strength improved after absorbing an Amethyst Dragon-Lion Lord and its pride, but they did not rashly send troops against the other map kings.
This was primarily because the territories of the remaining map kings were relatively far from the Molten Iron Tribe's current borders.
Unlike the previous lion pride, they didn't directly border each other, so conflict wasn't inevitable.
However, the Molten Iron Tribe wasn't idle.
Under the will of Garros, the dragon flight led the Molten Iron Tribe in a more stable and solid strategy. Using the tribe's existing territory as a center, they gradually expanded and consolidated outward like a rolling snowball, digesting and absorbing newly acquired land and populations.
Within the vast Serel Wilderness, besides the prominent map kings who held sway over their own regions and the Federation's border bases, there were also countless indigenous clans and monster settlements of various sizes scattered like stars.
The northwestern region where the Molten Iron Tribe was currently located was no exception.
As the tribe steadily expanded, it acted like a giant magnet, constantly attracting and absorbing those scattered clans.
While this method of expansion didn't yield as much territory as directly defeating a map king, the addition of these scattered clans made the Molten Iron Tribe's ethnic composition richer and more diverse, and the population base grew steadily, which would be useful for future development.
Of course, the process of expansion was not always peaceful.
They would always encounter some stubborn clans during the process.
Against these types of troublemakers, the Molten Iron Tribe never hesitated to show its savage fangs and simply crush them.
Wherever they went, the targets were either completely crushed due to meaningless resistance, their members becoming slaves, or they fled their homes in fear, ending up exiled.
Furthermore, unlike most other map kings who chose to avoid provoking the Federation and thus steered clear of Federation outposts...
The Molten Iron Tribe was extremely fierce, continuously launching attacks on the outposts the Federation had established in the northwestern region of the wilderness.
Under one rainstorm after another, one Federation border post, resource collection point, and even some relatively hidden bases after another were completely erased from the map of the wilderness.
During this process.
The Molten Iron Tribe's prestige in the northwestern region grew increasingly prominent. Its name, carrying the scent of blood and fire, had already gained an unstoppable momentum, vaguely tending to surpass all others in the northwest and become the uncrowned king of the region.
Compared to the reputations of the other map kings in the northwestern region...
The fame of the Molten Iron Tribe had clearly exceeded them by at least one level.
And it wasn't just the northwestern region; the Molten Iron Tribe's fame was gradually crossing regional boundaries and spreading across the entire Serel Wilderness, beginning to attract the attention of powerful existences in more distant areas.
Meanwhile.
In other vast regions of the wilderness, other exceptionally powerful map kings were also gradually rising to fame. Their prestige was likewise no longer confined to their own regions but began to spread throughout the entire wilderness.
In the Central Region.
The Mad King, the Red Dragon Gorthax, reached the peak of his ill fame. He was witnessed single-handedly tearing through a map king's massive army, dragging that unfortunate ruler out of their lair, and brutally torturing them to death, ultimately turning their vast territory into a scorched wasteland where not a single blade of grass grew. His atrocities were appalling.
In the Southwestern Region.
The Troll King rose rapidly. This was an ancient troll that had been dormant for an unknown amount of time. It led a troll tribe that had been enduring in remote and desolate lands, expanding rapidly with an overwhelming force. Other map kings in the same region retreated steadily under its offensive, unable to resist.
In the Northeastern Region.
The Mountain King descended. A Mountain Giant King who had traveled across mountains and rivers from the distant continent of Selesia, his body was comparable to a small hill. He gathered a group of equally massive mountain giants under his command. All enemies or fortresses that tried to block their path were ruthlessly trampled and crushed. His prestige in the northeastern region was at its zenith, unshakable.
In the Southeastern Region.
The Mushroom King spread. It was a never-before-seen, mutated mushroom-type monster lord from the dark underground world, now leading an seemingly endless swarm of mushroom monsters of various forms onto the surface.
Wherever it passed, thick fungal carpets would rapidly assimilate, cover, and replace the original landscape, spreading like a plague.
It was foreseeable that...
If no earth-shattering accidents occurred midway, these five map kings—distinct in style yet equally powerful—were all highly likely to gradually sweep away all competitors in their respective regions, complete a substantial unification, and thus promote to a higher level: a regional king.
Even now, although no one had truly finished the competition for regional king...
Some well-informed and extremely savvy intelligent beings had already given this intense structural change occurring in the wilderness a historical event name, viewing it as a major turning point in the power structure of the Serel Wilderness.
—The Rise of the Five Kings!
Such news naturally reached Garros's ears through various channels.
He was happy for a few minutes because of it, and then he didn't care too much.
After learning the general information about the other four kings, he set it aside and continued to focus on his own training and the development of the tribe.
He saw through it clearly; the current situation was far from settled, and the regional kings had not truly been determined yet.
In the depths of the wilderness, there might still be some older, more powerful existences still dormant and enduring, having not yet revealed their true claws.
The so-called Five Kings who were currently in the spotlight probably had some exaggeration to their names.
Just like the Python King of the northwestern region, who was replaced in the blink of an eye by a Firebird Leader that appeared out of nowhere, ultimately serving only as a background and stepping stone for someone else's rise.
The rising Five Kings were bound to be stronger than ordinary map kings, but there was no guarantee of the outcome.
The situation in the wilderness changed in an instant.
But no matter how the outside world changed or how the rumors swirled, the Red-Iron Dragon remained completely undisturbed, continuing his day-to-day training and improving his own strength bit by bit.
He knew very well that in this game, only one's own tangible strength was the most real and reliable capital.
Everything else—prestige, rumors, spheres of influence—without the support of powerful strength, could be like bubbles in the wind or rootless duckweed, popping with a single poke.
Suddenly, the Red-Iron Dragon's movements paused slightly.
The voice of the Iron Dragon Sorog sounded in his heart at the same time.
He said, "The scouts have sent word. The Deer King and the Beholder have begun an all-out war against each other. A victor has not yet been decided; this is a great opportunity."
As long as he wiped out both of them, Garros, the King of Molten Iron, could truly be called the regional king of the northwest.