Galos stretched his wings, spiraling upwards through the air shrouded in the night.
The air currents above Needleleaf Valley carried the distinctive pungent sll of sulfur.
Adjusting altitude.
Letting the shadow cast by the Dragon Wings skim over the treetops without disturbing the creatures below.
Galos lowered his gaze, peering down to see the Violent Bears in the valley, either napping or scratching their backs against the rough, hard rocks.
Möbel, the new Bear Leader, was currently nestled among the mother bears.
Rubbing his head, licking their fur, building relationships with the mother bears.
He saw Samantha sticking her butt up, teasing ants, playing a childish and immature ga.
Amused yet content by himself.
He noticed Elf Dragon Vera lying on the tree branches, her wings and tail drooping as she slept unsteadily, seemingly about to fall at any mont but never quite doing so, tempting one to give her a little push.
From this altitude, the details of the ground below were clearly visible.
Without exposing his presence.
"Let’s go take a look at my neighbors."
After circling the valley three tis, Galos chose a northeastern direction to begin his exploration.
Under the cover of night, he soared between drifting winds and floating clouds.
His massive wings flapped slowly, controlling speed and sound to avoid attention.
His gaze fixed on the ground below.
Mountains, wilderness, forests, lakes... various landscapes reflected in Galos’s Dragon Eyes.
He observed silently, noticing many fierce beasts and monsters hunting in the night.
The Sel Wilderness was a paradise for fierce beasts and demons.
By comparison.
The number of tribal clans ford by intelligent species was fewer, and the habitat here was perilous, but any wild tribes that survived were usually fierce and strong.
Ti ticked by with the rhythm of Galos’s wingbeats.
About half an hour later.
Concealed in the clouds, Galos fixed his gaze downward, his slitted eyes locking onto a crescent-shaped valley.
At the valley floor.
In the areas untouched by moonlight.
A group of gray-haired creatures were active.
They walked upright, with adult forms exceeding two ters in height.
Hunched backs arched with exaggerated muscles, covered in a layer of needle-like stiff fur, with a mane of gray hair like that of a male lion around their necks, with prominent muzzles filled with interlocking fangs.
—Gray-haired Werewolves.
A branch of the Werewolf.
It’s said.
The origin of the Werewolf ancestors was once human.
Having offended and angered the Moon God, they were cursed to beco half-human, half-wolf bloodthirsty monsters, though there are other tales suggesting that Werewolf ancestors turned themselves into this state through forbidden dark experints.
From ancient tis to the present.
Werewolves have evolved into many different branches.
So Werewolves can display human-like forms in daily life, speaking and thinking no differently than regular humans.
But once stimulated, or bathed in full moonlight, they transform into half-human, half-wolf, bloodthirsty beings.
Whereas the Gray-haired Werewolves, living long in the Barbaric Land, have completely forsaken their human appearance.
They live in Werewolf form regularly, with violent temperants yet the intelligence of humans.
If illuminated by the full moon’s glow, or when standing at the brink of death, their emotions run high and intense.
They further transform into giant wolf forms, significantly enhancing their combat capabilities, gradually losing reason, and becoming engrossed in fighting and slaughter.
In Crescent Valley, so houses were built from hardwood and stone.
The exterior was a layered wall of stacked marble blocks, bonded together with plaster and glue.
Inside the wall.
At the open area next to the valley’s rock face.
Adult Werewolves were training their young, throwing heavy, hard iron birch wood into the air, and the pups imdiately leaped up to three ters, biting with their sharp, tender teeth, leaving various depths of indentations.
"Much more diligent than Dragon Race hatchlings, who even know to train."
Galos thought silently.
The Dragon Race had an abundance of innate talents.
Every Dragon Race born knows they will stand at a pinnacle unattainable by most, which breeds the Dragon Race’s laziness, with oddities like Galos being few and far between.
While in Iron Dragon Lady’s territory.
Red Dragon Samantha and Iron Dragon Gordon.
The two spent day after day, other than eating and sleeping, wandering around aimlessly, even though their heritage contained countless precious knowledge that ordinary people would hardly seek, let alone train their bodies and hone their claws and teeth.
"Could it be that the Evil Dragon expels their hatchlings to force them to overco their lazy nature through external pressure?"
A thought occurred to Galos.
But upon reconsideration, he felt he was overthinking it.
The Evil Dragon Lady was more likely just too lazy to care for her offspring.
Galos collected his thoughts, continuing to scan Crescent Valley.
The territory wall had so slanted bone towers.
Gray-haired Werewolf sentinels stood on the bone towers, carrying longbows, their eyes unaffected by darkness sweeping around, ears twitching, listening for any suspicious movent around them.
Beyond that, so riders on Giant Wolves patrolled.
When they stopped to rest, they prioritized feeding and watering their mounts rather than themselves.
So even showed intimately close behavior, nuzzling and licking each other’s fur.
Unlike the typical relationship between knight and steed.
Galos noticed this.
Initially puzzled, he ’searched’ this in his legacy knowledge, then understood.
If a Werewolf stays in the giant wolf form too long, they gradually succumb to their animal nature, completely losing themselves, unable to return to being a Werewolf, becoming a giant wolf beast.
Only a Werewolf with the closest blood ties can soothe them, communicating spiritually through their bloodline.
In a society of fully animalized Werewolves like the Gray-haired Werewolves.
There are often bloodline bonds between knights and their mounts.
They were perhaps once spouses, parent-child, siblings, or the like.
This bond leads to unconventional interactions between these knights and their mounts, and they are more in sync and powerful than typical knights.
"This territory has over thirty Giant Wolf Knights, not counting younglings or adolescents, with at least a hundred adult Werewolves."
"Still haven’t seen their leader, or any Shaman Wizards."
Galos remained hidden in the clouds, silently assessing the caliber of these ’neighbors.’
For tribes of this scale, under normal circumstances, there’d be at least one Wizard or Shaman, and Galos had noticed the Totem Poles standing within their territory.
As his gaze continued, when it reached the western corner of Crescent Valley, Galos’s eyes narrowed.
He saw the tal remains of a transport vehicle, covered in bite and tear marks, with several wolf pups grinding their teeth on the iron skin.
This Gray Wolf Tribe had raided a convoy passing through Thousand Snake Mark.
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