Under Kral’s command, this tribe named “Iron-Eaters” displayed astonishing efficiency.
Their scattered living area, located deep in the mine, had been dismantled; old bedding rolls, simple iron pickaxes, and those baskets filled with mithril ore were all neatly stacked together.
There were even a few elderly Kobolds using wood and animal hides from the mine to rush the construction of a simple stretcher and a simple sedan chair with a curtain.
That was obviously prepared for the two Dark Elves, especially the one whose belly was high and bulging, the Dragon Consort.
“My Lord! My Lord!”
When he saw Balthazar appear to confirm the situation, Kral immediately ran over, balancing that ridiculous Young Dragon on his head.
“Everything… everything is ready! The little ones… have packed everything… not even a single bone was left behind!”
A gleam of cunning and anticipation flickered in Kral’s murky eyes.
For them, migration was not just about running away, but the beginning of following a strong leader to conquer new territories.
Balthazar nodded slightly, his nostrils puffing out a stream of hot air.
Such sensible servants really saved him a lot of trouble.
Before long, Kral and his tribesmen had packed up all their belongings, and then they set off with the migration party, carrying Olga, who had covered her whole body in a black robe, and Chloe, who had also been covered in a black robe by Olga.
Watching the departing migration party, Balthazar also walked out of the mine.
His huge dark wings suddenly unfurled, casting a wide shadow over the gravel-covered ground.
With a dull intake of breath like a bellows being pulled, Balthazar’s hind legs, covered in thick metal scales, exerted sudden force, and the rocky ground instantly cracked into spiderweb-like fissures beneath his feet.
“Boom—!”
Accompanied by a deafening roar, the heavy dragon body lifted off from the ground.
A powerful air current swept up sand and gravel, shooting them in all directions; the air trembled, and every beat of his wings emitted a dull, low rumble.
Balthazar quickly rushed out of the mine’s shadow, bathing in the slightly dazzling sunlight.
In the air, he looked down upon this desolate land with the posture of a ruler of the world.
At this moment, his flight altitude was about five hundred meters.
The wind whistled in his ears, scraping against his hard dragon scales and emitting a faint metallic ringing sound.
His gaze fixed on the distant north.
There was a rolling mountain range, the mountains presenting an uncomfortable pitch-black color, as if they could swallow even the light.
Beneath that black rock, Balthazar felt an unprecedented, intense resonance that made his dragon blood boil.
That was not just iron, but something more ancient, harder, and even possessing a certain demonic quality, similar to a high-level metal reaction.
Moreover, the area was surrounded by dangerous forests and swamps, and the mountains themselves were extremely steep.
There was no smoke from any human settlements within a hundred miles, and it was so desolate that even birds were extinct there.
This was a perfect natural fortress; Olga had indeed chosen a good place.
“Very good… ”
A look of extremely anthropomorphic, greedy satisfaction appeared on Balthazar’s ferocious dragon face.
His vertical pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpricks, locking tightly onto that black territory, and his huge tongue probed out of his mouth, licking his lips, which were slightly rough from being dried by the wind just now.
That feeling was like a hungry Taotie sniffing out a peerless delicacy.
After confirming the direction and general terrain in the air, he folded his wings, and his body swooped down toward the Kobold party like a black meteorite.
“Thud!”
Balthazar landed heavily in front of the Kobold party, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He ignored the dependents who were scared into kneeling again, and instead raised a front claw, pointing far away to the north at the black mountains, which could only be seen as a blurry outline at the edge of his vision.
“That… way.”
His hoarse and majestic voice pierced through the wind, clearly penetrating into the ears of every creature.
“Black… mountains.”
Balthazar turned his head, looking at Kral, who was trembling while balancing the Young Dragon on his head, a flame called ambition flickering in his dark red eyes.
“New… nest. Follow… me.”
“Squeak squeak!”
Hearing the command of their master, the Kobolds let out happy shouts; they completely forgot the terror of just moments ago, and immediately began to act with tireless enthusiasm.
“Wait.”
Just as Balthazar was preparing to set off and leave the mine, Olga called out to him.
Subsequently, a purple ball of light entered Balthazar’s body.
“This is a communication magic that can transmit your thoughts and mine.”
After explaining this with her mouth, Olga explained to Balthazar in her heart:
[As long as you silently recite my name in your heart, you can talk to me. Convenient, isn’t it?]
Those dark red vertical pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpricks, staring fixedly at the elegant Queen in front of him.
Balthazar’s dragon head lowered slightly, and the hot air puffed out of his nostrils formed two white mists in the air.
He did not reply immediately, but closed his eyes, feeling the connection that had suddenly appeared in his mind, like a thread.
[Olga… is this… your magic?]
He tentatively murmured in his mind.
The feedback was peculiar; no longer did he need to vibrate the air to transmit information, but rather, it stirred ripples directly upon the lake of his consciousness.
A moment later, Balthazar reopened his eyes.
His movements appeared slow and heavy, carrying a certain deliberate sense of intimidation.
He used his sharp front claw to gently rake the ground, digging a deep pit into the hard frozen soil of the wasteland, before finally raising his head and speaking in that hoarse, low, and extremely unfluent voice:
“Convenient… Not bad…”
The voice sounded as if it had been ground against iron sand, carrying an unquestionable majesty within its magnetism.
“But… I have a suggestion… Your Majesty.”
His massive dragon snout opened and closed slightly, revealing two rows of fangs that glimmered with a cold, metallic light.
Balthazar took a step forward, his immense shadow completely shrouding Olga and the stretcher behind her.
He lowered his head, bringing his ferocious face close to Olga, close enough that she could clearly see the undried blood of the scouts in the crevices of his scales.
“Do not… pry into… me… otherwise… I will… crush… your… soul.”
Although his words were filled with warnings, he did not reject this magic.
After all, for the current Balthazar, this instantaneous connection could indeed allow him to better control this procession, which moved as slowly as ants, while he overlooked it from high above.
He straightened his body, his massive dark wings slowly spreading out behind him once more, blocking out the blinding midday sun.
The Kobold leader who had been called immediately scrambled over, his comical skull mask tilting to one side as he ran.
“Here! My Lord! Kral is listening!”
“Move.”
Balthazar wasted no words.
His hind legs, covered in thick metal armor, exerted force suddenly, leaving two deep footprints in the ground.
With a powerful beat of his wings, the intense wind pressure blew small stones in the vicinity dozens of meters away.
“Until… it is dark. Do not… stop.”
Having said that, he ignored the tribe below as they prepared to set off and move forward, rising from the ground once more and transforming into a bolt of pitch-black lightning as he soared toward the firmament.
At an altitude of five hundred meters, he could clearly feel the vortices forming at the edges of his dragon wings, as well as the alluring fragrance emanating from the Black Mountains in the north.
It was high-grade metal calling out for him to taste it.
The migrating procession below stretched out like a long black line across the wasteland toward the northern Black Mountains.
Inside the crude palanquin, Chloe, covered by a black robe, let out a faint, almost imperceptible moan amidst the jolting.
Her hand subconsciously covered her protruding abdomen, where a strong life, one not belonging to the mortal realm, was pulsating steadily.
Olga sat quietly in the palanquin, feeling the majestic presence known as “Balthazar” within her heart.
Her fingertips traced lightly through the air, causing purple runes to manifest, and the corner of her mouth curled into an imperceptible, extremely calm arc.
She was well aware that although this dragon was arrogant, it had unknowingly accepted her “mark.”
And this was the beginning of Olga’s attempt to control him.
Olga sat upright in the shadows of the palanquin, her dress, which had been magnificent but was now damaged in several places, kept meticulously arranged.
She bowed her head slightly, her amber eyes half-closed, her slender fingers gently caressing the obsidian mirror in her hand.
Through that invisible, spider-web-like, fragile yet resilient mental link, she could sense the existence of that massive consciousness high above.
It was a burning, dark red flame with a heavy scent of sulfur, violent and full of wildness.
This was completely different from the active yet chaotic souls of humans she was familiar with, or the souls of her Dark Elves kin, which were so heavy as to be decaying and so wise as to be gloomy.
It was a pure heat, without any superfluous schemes or tricks; that blazing soul, in its very existence, was as pure as the sun.
“But after all, it is still just a sun that is too young.”
In Olga’s view, no matter what wisdom Balthazar displayed, it was ultimately just a juvenile dragon that had been born less than four days ago.
As for age, Olga had already lived through nearly a thousand years.
In Olga’s view, as long as she could further understand Balthazar’s thoughts, perhaps she would not need to use the Seal of Enslavement; through simple mental suggestion, she could turn this arrogant and naive dragon into her puppet.
Olga had such confidence in her own wisdom.
“Oh Balthazar, you powerful magic beast who looks down upon me because of my weakened magic power.”
“One day, I will make you pay for speaking such wild words about taking over my body.”
Her mental energy was like a night snake swimming silently, carefully probing forward along that link.
She was not in a hurry to directly assault the other’s mental defenses, but rather attempted to capture the fragmented thoughts overflowing from the surface of his consciousness.
As long as she could read even a little bit…
even if it was just the dragon’s plan for the upcoming journey, or his true attitude toward the fetus in her knight’s womb, she might be able to plant deeper seeds of suggestion within his consciousness.
However, just at the moment her mental tentacles were about to touch the edge of that burning consciousness.
“Arrogant Dark Elves Queen, do not engage in the futile effort of prying into my thoughts.”