In the Sel Wilderness, the caravans mainly collect mineral, beastly material from vile creatures, magical herbs, and other resources to transport to the southern Lothern Federation for sale and profit.
Caravan scales varied.
So were extraordinarily large, even mature Dragons dared not target them.
But there were also those who took risks, harboring luck and the dream of striking it rich, trading here with insufficient protection.
Small-scale, poorly guarded caravans.
Once discovered by the evil entities rooted in the wilderness, they were like a delicious al delivered to their door, impossible to resist.
The number of small caravans disappearing each year in the Sel Wilderness was imasurable.
Yet for the rchants, as long as adequate profits were obtainable, they flocked regardless of the risk, unable to be curtailed by their greed.
Think about it carefully.
This bears little difference to the inherent flaw rooted within the Dragon Race’s legacy.
"The Thousand Snake Mark is intricate and extensive, like a massive network of roads; there’s a branch line here, if I can et the right small caravan, I have a chance to plunder."
"If I’m to rob caravans, it’s best I don’t reveal myself, lest my whereabouts are exposed, attracting adventurer hunts or even military sieges."
"The number of Violent Bears under is too few, and their wisdom limited, hard to execute complex commands."
"I need so genuinely wise follower creatures."
Before one Dragon’s might could topple the world, followers were still necessary.
Or perhaps, all Evil Dragons need followers.
Evil Dragons weren’t tal Dragons, they couldn’t summon allies for aid when facing threats. Evil Dragons often acted alone; lacking an Affiliated Legion made them susceptible to hunts.
"I am not an Evil Dragon. Yet the prejudice in people’s hearts was a mountain, always viewing as an Evil Dragon upon eting, shouting for death. So, I need to prepare for this, to enhance my stock."
Galos sched internally.
After observing the Gray-haired Werewolf Territory for a ti.
He didn’t rashly make a move, but prepared to leave.
Other places awaited his exploration, especially the branch line road of the Thousand Snake Mark, where he showed great interest in the passing caravans.
But just then.
Galos keenly noticed an elderly Werewolf with grayish white fur erging from a tent-like structure at the territory’s center.
It wore a necklace made from unknown beast bones around its neck, leaning on a glossy, aged oak staff.
It was the Wolfman Tribe’s Shaman.
Once out, it imdiately called upon a dozen robust adult Werewolves, shouldering so cow-horse sized, bound and live prey, heading toward the shadowy mountainside opposite the moon.
Seeing the situation.
Galos did not hurry to leave, still hidden high above, intending to see what the Wolfman Shaman was up to.
The Shaman led the adult Werewolves and soon arrived at the base of the mountainside.
Bang! The adult Werewolves, sowhat nervous, placed the prey on the ground, accidentally creating a muffled sound, drawing the Shaman’s disapproving gaze.
Yet, the Shaman also understood the adult Werewolves’ fear.
It waved its claws, signaling the adult Werewolves to retreat, while it took a deep breath, facing the terrifying neighbors among the valley cliffs alone.
It took out a Bone Whistle.
The Shaman mustered its breath, blowing it to emit a long, clear sound.
Crack... The mountainside trembled lightly, small stones fell like drizzling rain.
Soon after.
A huge, serpent-like beast over ten ters long, erged from the sun-bathed dark cave.
This was a massive serpent, its body covered with green Scale Armor, eyes blood-red, tail forked triple, and forebody with a pair of claws.
It slithered down the steep cliff.
With only one pair of claws gripping the rocks, the hard stone broke like tofu.
Soon, it ca before the elder Wolfman Shaman, expanding its bloody maw, biting into fresh prey brought by the adult Werewolf, beginning to feast.
It didn’t hastily slaughter the prey, rather it showed an expression of delight, savoring the prey’s wails and struggles, ripping into the prey’s skin, flesh, and bones, slowly tearing it apart to feast.
The entire process was bloody and brutal.
Even bloodthirsty Werewolves couldn’t resist trembling, daring not to cast glances here, while the little wolf cubs buried their heads into their parents’ fur, shaking like quail.
The entire Gray Wolf Tribe seed quite fearful of this beast.
Having completed its savage al, to a near-torturous extent.
The beast ignored the old Werewolf before it, turning back.
It didn’t crawl along the mountainside; its wingless body began to soar in the open, flying back to the cave.
"Cliff Snake Dragon?!"
Seeing this beast, Galos felt an icy wave within.
Almost upon first sight, the legacy erupted with a wealth of warning information.
This beast was called Cliff Snake Dragon.
The Cliff Snake Dragon, Heavenly Pool Serpent Dragon, Stone Tomb Snake Dragon, Rock Mountain Snake Dragon, Cold Forest Snake Dragon—the Snake Dragons, a sub-class of Dragon.
Though lacking wings and having only one pair of claws, there’s no doubt, this Cliff Snake Dragon was also part of the Dragon Race.
And within the Dragon Race.
On the scale of evil and cruelty, even the infamous Five-Colored Dragon had to look up to the Snake Dragon species.
Snake Dragons were a primitive and ferocious type of Dragon; wise, yet they thought more like beasts than White Dragons, and were extrely brutal. They would stop at nothing to make their enemies feel more pain and tornt rather than rely kill them; they deeply detested and despised all life indiscriminately, including their Dragon kin.
Moreover, they would prey upon Dragons.
Dragon kin were on the Snake Dragon’s nu.
In fact, they were passionate about consuming Dragons, favoring Dragon flesh and blood, delighting in tornting and slaughtering their kind, being unequivocally evil Dragons.
It was precisely because of this.
Although holding Giant Dragon bloodlines and powers, the Snake Dragons were widely unacknowledged by Dragons.
Worse yet, its claws and fangs carried poison, its soul borne curses.
The Cliff Snake Dragon, burning with a fire attribute, when slain, could curse with its life, leading to permanently weakened fire resistance for those lacking sufficient curse immunity.
"Its body length is roughly ten ters, it should be at juvenile or adolescent stage of the Snake Dragon."
"Cliff Snake Dragon ranks lower among Snake Dragons; its life tier may be similar to mine, but the Snake Dragon’s curse is too troubleso, trying to match it would be laborious and unrewarding."
Galos hovered high up, trying not to attract the Cliff Snake Dragon’s attention.
The Cliff Snake Dragon slowly drifted toward the cave entrance, gradually retreating its body starting from the head.
However, just as its tail was also about to slip into the cave, it suddenly paused.
The forked tail swayed several tis, the Cliff Snake Dragon reerged from the cave, sniffing the air continually.
For Dragons serving as als, Snake Dragons were incredibly sensitive to Dragon scents, Cliff Snake Dragon faintly caught whiff of another Dragon’s aroma, which made it feel hunger, appetite surge, spirit thrilled.
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