Chapter 83: Divine Guardians, Comet Trails

Fine silver threads descended from the sky, a hazy rain curtain enveloping Howling Cliff.

Behind the Bloodfang Overseer, another figure emerged from the rock cave—a hunchbacked, stooped jackal-wolf with jet-black fur devoid of any other color, clearly distinct from the mottled-furred jackal-wolves.

The priest devoted to the Jackal-Wolf God—Rotten Claw.

Priest Rotten Claw leaned on a white bone staff, walking with slow steps to the side of Overseer Bloodfang, followed by two taciturn jackal-wolf guards who trailed closely behind.

They were strong and sturdy, their height no less than Overseer Bloodfang's, with twisted runes faintly visible between their wet fur.

The silent and steady demeanor of the two guards was utterly different from that of normal jackal-wolves.

They were warriors selected by Priest Rotten Claw from within the clan, then forged through a sacrifice ritual and the blessings of the Jackal-Wolf God; they possessed combat prowess comparable to same-tier fierce beasts and demons, at the cost of only ten years of lifespan, diminished intelligence, and the loss of the desire and ability to reproduce.

Garos noticed the two guards, his gaze sharpening slightly.

They were 【Jackal Guards】, powerful guardians created by divine blessings.

Not just the Jackal-Wolf God.

Most gods possess this kind of 'Blessing' skill, sacrificing long life, the ability to reproduce offspring, and rational intellect to create servants loyal only to themselves.

For example, the 【Evil Dragon Guards】 of the Evil Dragon God.

From hatching to adulthood, an Evil Dragon Guard requires only one year; within a century, it gains power comparable to a thousand-year-old Ancient Dragon, yet its lifespan is merely slightly over a hundred years, and aside from loyalty to the Evil Dragon God and executing its orders, it harbors no other thoughts.

Priests can also create corresponding divine guardians, but the cost is extremely high.

The success rate of the ritual is not high; behind the two jackal-wolf guards, the lives of dozens, perhaps even over a hundred jackal-wolves, were likely sacrificed.

Additionally.

Only priests whose faith in the gods reaches a certain level possess this kind of skill.

Garos turned his gaze toward Priest Rotten Claw, feeling a hint of displeasure.

Gods, the true rulers of all faces and worlds, can alter the fate of other living beings with a single thought, lifting them to the clouds or casting them into deep valleys.

Garos did not trust his luck to encounter a favorable face.

He habitually considered the unfavorable faces first.

"The priest of the Jackal-Wolf God is absolutely loyal, obeying the god; even if I subdue the Red-Eye Clan and demonstrate power worthy of following, to please the god, it will very likely feign cooperation with me and act against my interests."

Regarding priests connected to gods, Garos felt no sense of security in him.

Sacrifice this dragon before the god.

—Perhaps the jackal-wolf priest was thinking exactly that.

If the priest merely held shallow faith in the gods, it would be fine, but a priest capable of creating servant guards is certainly not a shallow believer.

Garos had originally thought this priest of the Red-Eye Clan merely held shallow faith in the gods to better lead the clan's survival in the wilderness, thereby gaining some minor blessing skills.

Now it seemed reality was not so.

The werewolves of the Howling Moon Clan did not mention this point.

One cannot expect monster clans in the wilderness to have much knowledge; recognizing an overseer and a priest is already good; as for the priest's specific situation, the Howling Moon Clan does not worship gods, has no priest class within its ranks, so their lack of understanding is normal.

"Priest, priest, a priest with high faith level."

"Kill him? The inheritance says killing a priest carries a small probability of attracting the god's attention, with endless repercussions; one cannot kill him personally."

Garos pondered.

Priest Rotten Claw stood slightly ahead of Overseer Bloodfang.

Like Overseer Bloodfang, he spoke with a respectful tone, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper rubbing, slowly saying: "By Yennog above, noble great dragon, we wish to offer fine wine and fresh meat to welcome your arrival."

What a robust young dragon.

If sacrificed to the great Yennog, it would surely bring him joy.

Beneath the priest's respectful exterior, this thought was hard to suppress.

At the same time, Garos looked toward Overseer Bloodfang.

This jackal-wolf, with thick fur and a sturdy, powerful build, showed clear displeasure on his face when Priest Rotten Claw appeared and walked in front of him; he instinctively bared his fangs but said nothing.

"The overseer and priest of the Red-Eye Clan are not on good terms."

Garos began to calculate in his mind.

He was well aware of Overseer Bloodfang's small schemes.

Because jackal-wolves are generally like this, thinking themselves cunning and clever, believing they hide their thoughts well, when in fact they have long been exposed before dragons through their twitching ears and darting eyes; their cunning is superficial, mere petty cleverness.

Jackal-wolves love to follow great dragons.

Yet if they cannot prove their own strength, they will also hunt young dragons that have not yet grown.

Conversely.

As long as one displays power that terrifies jackal-wolves, it is easy to gain their loyalty.

Almost every lord dragon has a contingent of jackal-wolf subjects under their command.

Their reproductive efficiency is high, their growth cycle short; like weeds, cut one batch and another grows; in the eyes of dragons, they make excellent cannon fodder, even reserve food; their innate reverence and fear toward powerful dragons also grant them a unique kind of 'loyalty'.

"Red-Eye Clan, I demand your loyalty."

"From this day forward, you shall follow my wing-shadow."

Garos gazed at the jackal-wolf overseer and said.

Overseer Bloodfang, without hesitation, bowed his head and said: "To serve the great dragons is the honor of all jackal-wolves; the meaning of my life is to meet you today and become your subject."

More jackal-wolves knelt to the ground.

Only the priest and the two Jackal Guards stood incongruously in the fine rain.

"I am sorry, a priest can only kneel before the god he worships."

"But please believe that my respect and awe for you rank only below the great Yennog."

"The Red-Eye Clan longs to follow dragons."

Priest Rotten Claw remained respectfully polite.

The Blood-Tooth Warlord's eyes flickered as he said, "Dragon Lord, descend upon your loyal Red-Eye Clan. I shall lead you on a tour of your domain and present to you all the treasures hidden within the clan."

As long as Garos touched down.

It would instantly activate its Warlord's Dominance Aura, strengthening all the gnoll warriors, making them fearless of the dragon's presence, rushing forward in unison to coordinate with the priests' curses and divine arts, dragging him to the ground for a hunt.

Garos fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned.

"Very well, I shall descend now."

Having spoken, Garos did not lower his form; instead, he flapped his dragon wings, soaring skyward. His figure tore through the rain curtain, carving a crimson trail beneath the cloud-choked sky.

The gnolls rose to their feet, heads tilted back, their reddish-brown pupils reflecting the figure growing ever smaller.

"Could it be he sensed the danger and fled?"

The Blood-Tooth Warlord muttered to himself.

Suddenly.

He heard a piercing shriek that made his expression freeze and his breath catch, as if an invisible giant hand had seized his heart.

Garos dove downward, his massive dragon wings tearing through the rain curtain.

The tiny scales on his wing membranes clattered like ten thousand sharp swords unsheathed at once; rain striking them exploded into fine mist, then evaporated into smoke under the intense heat.

Water vapor and sparks intertwined, hissing into steam that trailed behind him like a comet's tail.

And as his altitude decreased and his speed slowed.

Each beat of his wings no longer produced a piercing shriek but instead carried a dull, booming crack.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As if thunder from distant mountains had been forcibly dragged before his eyes, announcing Garos's arrival.

(End of this chapter)