Still, the bloodbath intensified.
Every second claimed a dozen lives.
Heads flew from shoulders. Entrails slithered across the dirt. Rain turned to red mist. A berserker tore out a Black Wing soldier's throat with his teeth before being impaled through the chest by a twin-bladed pike.
But the tide was turning.
Despite their ferocity, the barbarians faltered. Their lines buckled under the relentless advance. The Black Wing elites fought like demons unleashed, their strength unholy, their discipline ironclad. Where one fell, three more pressed forward, blades gleaming with blood and rain.
The war raged on.
Soon, the battle's outcome became clear.
The high-ranking powerhouses of the barbarian army looked at their faintly crumbling forces, their faces darkening.
They watched with grim expressions, their gazes hardening as they surveyed the field. The earth trembled beneath the weight of their dying.
In an effort to save face, the Barbarian Royal Court had dispatched several of its most elite legions. The weakest soldiers were fourth-level professionals, while elites like the Barbarian Snow Wolf Cavalry were uniformly high-level professionals.
It can be said that, except for the master professionals and legends who did not play, this is already the most elite and powerful force of the Barbarian Court.
"Let's go!"
Knowing that the grassroots fighters could not defeat the opponent, in order to avoid greater losses, the barbarian master-level professionals couldn't bear it anymore and rushed forward.
The Black Wing Mage, who had been keeping an eye on the powerful barbarians, informed the powerful men in the Black Wing Legion as soon as the former took action.
"Come on, show them some color!"
The five-meter-tall kobold twisted his neck and said with a smile to the green-skinned giant, who was over twelve meters tall, next to him.
The green giant weighed the specially customized nine-meter-long super mace in his hand and grinned excitedly.
"Mondo can't wait."
A few years ago, Mondo followed tens of thousands of Black Wing army who were sent out to the frontline battlefield between the Crimson Nest and the Race Alliance Army.
After several years of fierce war, more and more Black Wing warriors around him fell. Even Mondo himself encountered life-and-death crises many times, but he finally survived due to luck and abnormal recovery ability.
After several years of war, hundreds of master-level combatants from the Crimson Nest and the Race Alliance Army died, including many who were much stronger than Mondo.
In this kind of war, like a flesh-and-blood millstone, coupled with the almost unlimited Overeating all kinds of flesh and blood under the double stimulation of growth, the first few forest trolls who followed Black King have grown to the nineteenth-order peak, at the same level as their master.
This is normal because it's not just Mondo.
On that kind of battlefield, many talented humans and monsters experienced life-and-death crises again and again, and many of them broke through one after another, or even broke through several levels.
On the other hand, the long-lived elves, dwarves, and true dragons, after the past few years of war, although their combat experience and mentality have been honed to the point, their strength levels rarely improve rapidly.
To a certain extent, the world is actually relatively fair.
Races with lower bloodlines do not have so many powerful talents, nor do they have long lifespans, but they still have the opportunity to stand out quickly.
Although races with advanced bloodlines have powerful talents and long lifespans, they often need enough time to grow into true powerhouses.
On the contrary, people like their Lord Black King are the outliers. In just over twenty years, he has even gone through the stages of strength growth that took them thousands of years for true dragons.
Even this kind of growth rate is quite exaggerated among humans. Many legendary humans who are on extreme ends of talent often need to be in their forties or fifties to break through to legend. If someone pulls it off in their twenties and becomes a legend or legendary combat power, there's usually just one reason for it—
A son of God who has a special bloodline or has gone through exaggerated special adventure, such as receiving the attention and favor of a god or receiving divine blood.
Skye and Mondo led the master-level combat power of Black Nest and faced the strong barbarians without hesitation.
Among Black Nest's elite combatants stood many recognizable figures—warriors whose very presence commanded attention and awe. There was Roy, the formidable patriarch of the Siglinde family, newly returned from the ghost plane, his aura darker, heavier. Brain, the fierce warlord of the savage gnoll clans, bared his fangs with a battlelust that never dulled. Bray, the gryphon with iron feathers and talons like spears, circled overhead with a predator's gaze.
Danylan, the iron-willed matriarch of the Green Skin Tribe, now stood alone at the pinnacle of her people—not through magic, but through sheer, unrelenting strength. Her tribe had shifted focus entirely to forging weapons and building war machines, becoming a crucible of blackened steel and battle-readiness. Though she wielded little talent for magic, Danylan was a force to be reckoned with, her might alone earning her a place among the elites. Yet any mention of her lack of magical prowess ignited a quiet fury in her, a rage she buried beneath grit and honor.
Tursun stood firm, while the once-Dragonborn had undergone a terrifying transformation—his humanoid form now warped into something more draconic, lumbering on all fours like a wingless beast of top power. Red, the lizardman chieftain, shimmered with black scales hardened by countless battles. Shadar, the frost troll lord, radiated glacial fury, and Mog, the brutal hobgoblin leader, bellowed orders in a voice like thunder. Guert, proud and massive, led the bear goblins with primal strength, while the dragon-veined kobold warlocks crackled with unstable arcane might.
Then there was Bertha—towering and terrifying—flanked by her two children, both of whom had grown into monstrous champions in their own right. Wilson, heir to the Siglinde family, stood at the peak of his generation among human followers. Even the former kobold boy known only as "Wolf" now wore the mantle of one of the earliest and most respected members of the lair's rising elite, Diana—the newly crowned leader of the Rose Tribe—had risen like a star. With Shea and Winnie perpetually away on covert missions, Diana had ascended in their absence. Not merely as a stand-in, but as their superior. The youngest among them all, she had shattered every expectation, becoming the youngest leader in Black Wing's history and perhaps its greatest talent. A former student of Danylan, she had long since surpassed her mentor.
Now, a fifteenth-level caster and a fourth-level Mountain Believer, Diana had reached the power of the 16th Order—a feat unheard of for someone who had just celebrated her 14th birthday. Where others grew through decades of trial, she ascended like a storm, swift, radiant, and unstoppable. She stood at the peak of her and all generations. A record that could be broken by Black King blood daughters.
Yet they were not alone.
New blood had risen in the shadow of these veterans—powerful beings who had sought sanctuary and forged their worth in the crucible of Black Wing Lair. Unlike Skye and the others who started from the bottom, these newcomers arrived already strong—many were intermediate or advanced when they pledged loyalty, and some had already achieved master rank.
Notably, during the reign of the Dark Forest's monstrous overlord, beings like the one-eyed Cyclops and the majestic Cloud Eagle were already apex predators in their domains. Now, strengthened by years of training and the blessings of the Overeat, they had reached the pinnacle of the 19th order—only to find themselves halted at the threshold of legend, unable to break through… yet.
But trapped, trapped they are, their strength is still slowly but surely improving while they continue to eat. Up to now, Cloud Eagle's strength is still slightly worse, but the strength of the Cyclops has touched the pseudo-legendary strength threshold.
Their bodies were carved from power itself—layer upon layer of muscle so dense, so finely defined, that even seasoned barbarians—men who worshiped brute strength and who's even brains are filled with muscles—felt a twinge of intimidation. These physiques radiated a primal dominance that made even the fiercest warriors question their own might.
However, the strength of the barbarians is not weak. There are more than 30 ordinary masters here this time. Five barbarian generals who are at the peak of the 19th and have hunted monsters of the same level are also here. In addition, there is one who is also a barbarian. He is the only barbarian general in the world who has achieved pseudo-legendary combat power at the master level.
Both sides have a tacit understanding to find an opponent that seems to match their own strength. On the Black Wing clan's side, the most conspicuous and fierce one is the Cyclops.
The barbarian general immediately faced the Cyclops. The Cyclops waved a thorn stick made of special magical plant material and directly smashed a huge pit into the earth. The violent vibration sound caused several people nearby to tremble. Soldiers on both sides who were ten kilometers away thought there was an earthquake.
"This big guy..." The barbarian general looked a little ugly as he dodged the Cyclops's violent attacks, like a bombardment.
Cyclops is a sub-giant rather than a true giant, and its size generally only grows to between ten and twelve meters. In terms of strength, it is not very outstanding among masters, but the terrifying Cyclops in front of them is obviously an exception.
The towering figure of 18 meters is enough to compare with a true giant in the prime of life, and his strength is not inferior to a true giant at this level, reaching the level of pseudo-legend.
After fighting fiercely with the Cyclops for a while, the barbarian general was exhausted and somewhat out of breath.
Looking at the Cyclops again, he was still so lively and energetic.
"Haha, this is a great power given by the great master. How can it be compared to an ant like you?!" The Cyclops laughed wildly, with a loud voice. He swung the club fiercely, causing earth and rocks to fly all over the sky, and the earth once again became more shattered, forming a huge pothole.
At this moment, he was confident and arrogant. As a sub-giant, he could have power comparable to or even surpassing that of a real giant. How could he not let it swell?!
As for the hatred between giants and dragons?
Sorry, he doesn't care about that.
Although the sub-giants were created by the Titan God as servants of the true giants, they do not have the blood inheritance of the true giants. Although there is hatred of the giants for the dragons left in the blood, this hatred remains relatively shallow.
This is why many metallic dragons like to take sub-giants as servants.
It is because the sub-giants are strong enough, and there are many of them. They are often in groups, and they do not have such strong hatred and resistance against true dragons.
The barbarian general calmly fought with the somewhat crazy Cyclops while observing the situation of other powerful barbarians, and then his face darkened.
After a rough scan, they were missing seven or eight barbarian masters.
Catching his sight, he saw the green-skinned giant stuffing the body of a strong barbarian into his mouth like an abyss demon.
Surrounding the green giant, the two barbarian generals looked a little embarrassed.
"General, this mutated troll's resilience is too abnormal. It completely ignores our attacks. We have no way to contain it."
The two barbarian generals were helpless and aggrieved.
Although this mutated troll is very powerful, it has obviously not yet reached the threshold of pseudo-legend. The strength of the two barbarian generals can completely contain it, but the problem is that this guy's fighting method is too brutal.
If you hit it, it won't hide, and it will recover almost in the blink of an eye after being injured.
If it hits you, do you want to hide? Definitely have to hide!
Otherwise, under that kind of terrifying brute force and blood energy attack, they would doubt whether they could even leave a piece of bone behind.
Be squeezed into paste.
"Damn it!" The barbarian general was anxious. Their mission was to defeat the monster army of the Black Wing Lair and then force the Black Dragon Lord out.
As a result, now they were about to be defeated. Both the grassroots army and the top combat forces were being suppressed to death.
---
Barbarian Court
Barbarian King Victor looked at the scene unfolding in the suspended light curtain with an extremely gloomy expression.
He hadn't expected that the legion under the Black Dragon Lord would be so elite.
He didn't doubt that the Black Dragon Lord was powerful—after all, dragons were already powerful.
However, most of the dependent forces organized by evil dragon lords were actually a mixture of fish and dragons, with low order. Although some powerful dragon-veined monsters would be born due to their dragon blood, the overall quality of the legion and its war capability were generally low, far inferior to the legions established by intelligent race nations.
Many times, the descendants of evil dragons acted as cannon fodder and prey and snakes for the evil dragon. In a real war, the role they could play was quite limited. In many cases, once they were at a disadvantage, the monster army would disperse in one fell swoop.
As for the Crimson Nest?
That was because the Crimson Nest was too powerful, and the Crimson Mother was too terrifying. They always fought with the wind at their backs. In addition, most of the evil groups on the continent had gathered together. There were also strong individuals among these evil groups, some even with their own armies. This could no longer be compared with a regular evil dragon lord.
In the light curtain, another master barbarian was cut in half by a five-meter-tall kobold who used rogue skills to hide his body and wielded a 'small dagger.'
With a figure five meters tall, it was normal for a thief's small dagger to be a bit larger, right?
But seeing this scene, Victor really couldn't stand it anymore.
He couldn't bear it anymore.
If this continued, all the elite forces of the Barbarian Royal Court would be defeated. What was the use of leaving him as a naked king?
The ring on his palm shone slightly, and Victor disappeared from the royal court.
---
In the Northern Part of the Wasteland, High in the Sky
Thunder flashed, and rain poured.
A figure appeared, floating out of thin air—it was Barbarian King Victor.
Under the thunderclouds and rainstorm, the Barbarian King remained suspended in mid-air, staring indifferently below.
His fingertips stretched out, a streak of blood condensed, and then it tore through the air at insane speed.
The target was none other than Mondo.
Mondo, who instinctively sensed fatal danger, subconsciously raised his head and blocked it with his thick arms.
At the same moment, the earth cracked open, and a majestic stone wall rose to shield Mondo. From beneath the stone wall, a gray-brown giant beast, resembling a rugged stone mountain, emerged.
The blood light effortlessly penetrated the thick stone wall, then struck the gray-brown giant beast, shattering its special solid stone armor and burrowing several meters into its body before finally dissipating.
Mondo lowered his arm and looked at the rock dragon, Puck, standing before him, then grinned.
"Thank you, Puck, for saving Mondo."
The rock dragon, Puck, was the first high-level thug the Black Dragon had deceived many years ago to prevent his base camp from being invaded in his absence. However, such an event had never occurred over the years.
Except for being sent on a mission to the border of the Principality of Kass, and Dal from time to time, Puck spent most of his time sleeping underground. When hungry, he would eat underground rocks and metals. With the Rock Dragon's talent for prospecting, he could occasionally consume some high-quality metals, allowing his growth rate to match that of the other core dependents of Black Wing Lair.
Before coming to Black Wing Lair, Puck's biological order was close to the 18th Order. Over the years, he had already reached the peak of the 19th Order.
As one of the top sub-dragon races, an ordinary rock dragon was not much weaker than a white dragon. Especially in terms of defense, it surpassed most true dragons. After the upper limit of the body with the power of the void Overeat skill was increased, Puck had already far surpassed ordinary rock dragons, making the gap between him and true dragons very different.
Even if an ordinary rock dragon reached extreme old age, if it did not break through to the legendary rank, its size would only reach forty meters at most. However, Puck, who had just entered old age and had not broken through to the legendary rank, had already surpassed fifty meters.
His massive size granted him stronger energy, and his strength, defense, and resistance had all greatly improved.
"It hurts a bit," Rock Dragon Puck muttered, then glanced at Mondo behind him and hummed,
"In order to save you, a big green-skinned fool, I suffered serious injuries. You have to make it up to me."
As the rock dragon spoke, the large hole in his body, inflicted by the blood light, quietly recovering.
Mondo was about to speak when he suddenly sensed danger coming from above once again.
---
High in the Sky
Victor's eyelids twitched as he observed the giant rock dragon that had suddenly emerged from the earth to block his attack.
His attack had seemed ordinary, but it was formed by condensing legendary second-tier blood energy—dozens or even hundreds of times stronger than energy below the legendary level.
Even a creature with pseudo-legendary strength would have been annihilated by that blood light. Yet, this giant rock dragon acted as if nothing had happened. There was only one likely possibility.
"A legendary rock dragon?" Victor narrowed his eyes. He hadn't expected that, aside from the Black Dragon Lord, there were also legendary monsters in Black Wing Lair.
Looking around calmly, Victor found that the Black Dragon Lord still hadn't appeared. His heart tightened, and he stretched out a palm with no expression, aiming at the giant rock dragon below.
A massive bloody handprint condensed out of thin air, swelling in the wind as it attempted to seize the giant rock dragon.
Below, Rock Dragon Puck's expression turned serious.
Invisible spiritual energy began to appear from his dragon body, gathering at his thick tail before he fiercely lashed it against the massive bloody handprint descending from the sky.
Amidst the roar, the giant rock dragon couldn't stop retreating, his thick tail dripping with blood. Meanwhile, the massive bloody handprint remained intact, exuding infinite power.
"It's a bit weak, this legendary rock dragon."
Victor saw that he had beaten the legendary rock dragon into a sorry state without exerting much effort, and a trace of doubt flashed through his mind.
He hadn't considered the possibility that this rock dragon was not actually a legend, but merely at the peak of the 19th Order.
After all, many true dragons struggled to attain pseudo-legendary combat power at the 19th Order, let alone achieve even more exaggerated legendary combat strength.
If it were a 19th Order silver dragon, trained in a caster profession up to level 19, then it could barely be considered to have legendary combat power.
*****
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