One month passed quietly.
On this day, a majestic black dragon silhouette tore through the swirling snow and soared recklessly across the high sky. Its blood-red wing mbranes stretched to their limit, forming a wingspan of well over one hundred ters, a terrifying breadth like a burning cloud of blood. It writhed wildly in the biting upper air, movents domineering yet fluid. With one sonic boom after another rippling visibly from its wake, the massive body vanished from where it had been and left only reverberating thunder, then reappeared on the distant horizon the next mont. The speed exceeded what ordinary creatures’ eyes could track; all that was barely visible was a scorching streak of crimson tail fla, as if the sky itself had been torn open, lingering for a long ti. This high-speed flight continued for roughly half an hour. Afterward, the red iron dragon slowed, seemingly reluctant to stop, folded its wings, and dove toward the bottom of Dragon Valley. The wing mbranes glowing with red light gradually folded and pressed against the powerful body, resuming what looked like normal dragon wings. He was also wearing a heavy suit of armor, jet-black with rigid lines. The armor did not make him look cumberso; instead, it accentuated his imposing presence, a fierce aura hitting like a wave. Yet his life aura at this mont was not as robust as usual, only about at life level eighteen. That was the restraint armor Samantha the red dragon had made for him. It was forged from several extrely heavy and unusually sturdy magical tals. Alchemical arrays etched inside and out effectively suppressed dragon qi. Its structure referenced the Gold Dragons’ I Alone Am Supre Dragon Emperor Armor, designed in detachable parts for easier donning and removal, engraved with many alchemical formations and deployed with ultra-heavy arrays that could adapt sowhat with changes in body size. It provided Garoth with extra defense. Besides, its suppression and restraint also enhanced Garoth’s training effectiveness. However, he did not intend to wear it all the ti except when training. It was too cumberso, and although it offered so defense, overall it was not as effective as Garoth’s forr Frostburst Scales; its main effect was to suppress his power. As for using it to play the role of a pig to fool a tiger—Garoth had once fleetingly considered such a cheeky idea, but it was more self-mocking than serious. Deep down he had no real interest. A real tiger, even if disguised as a pig, might still be too much to swallow; and for dealing with fake tigers, there was even less need for such theatrics. “My top speed is more than double what it was before the slumber,” he thought, exhaling a breath of searing air that condensed into white mist. Calmly he considered, “Even wearing this restraint armor, I’m faster than I was giving my all before. Now, if I faced Dominik, the Blue Dragon leader, in his pri—even if he were to imdiately elentalize and run without looking back, he wouldn’t escape my pursuit.” At that mont, seeing him finish his aerial training, the brass-silver dragon Deborah, who had been quietly waiting nearby, gently stretched her long elegant wings like light feathers and descended to face him. She looked as if she had prepared herself carefully. Her already-beautiful scales seed painstakingly buffed, smooth and bright, shimring with a honey-and-silver sheen; there wasn’t a speck of dust even between scale seams. She looked immaculate, enchantingly beautiful. Even non-dragons could appreciate her beauty. Rarer still, she wore tasteful but not gaudy jewelry. A golden necklace etched with delicate patterns circled her slender neck, a silver forehead band hugged the base of her majestic horns, and a honey-colored delicate anklet clasped her limb. These ornants glittered on her, making her all the more radiant. Standing across from the red iron dragon, Deborah bowed her head slightly, hesitating as if she had sothing to say but unable to bring the words to her lips, transforming them into a faint, wavering reluctance. Garoth’s self-light withdrew from the carefully tended details on her. He grinned and teased, “Dressed up so pretty? Deborah, you’re not trying to seduce into wrongdoing, are you? I should remind you, by dragon age I still have two years before I officially enter adulthood.” Deborah’s faceplate covered in fine scales instantly heated as if steaming. “How rude! You impudent creature! What… what nonsense are you spouting!” She glared at the red iron dragon as if having her tail stepped on, abandoned whatever she had ant to say, beat her wings apart with a huff, and practically fled back toward the depths of Scorchsteel Fortress, hiding herself out of sight in a flash. At the valley floor, Garoth watched the brass-silver dragon’s flustered retreat and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looks like I hit the nail on the head. The agitation and repression from growing up—aren’t I the sa?” he reflected. He understood. After that, the red iron dragon didn’t pursue Deborah into the fortress. Focusing on his own improvent was more important. He pushed away the surging distractions in his mind, cleared his thoughts, donned the heavy restraint armor again, and carried on with various exercises at the valley floor. As ti quietly passed, the sky over the convergence lands darkened. A deep night fell across heaven and earth. Whoosh— At that mont, a golden teor streaked across the black sky and quickly approached Dragon Valley. Only when it drew near could one see it was a huge dragon covered entirely in golden scales, a strong and majestic giant—Gold Dragon Alberto. He had grown noticeably since Garoth had last seen him, his bulk surpassing red dragons of the sa length, radiating a powerful and imposing aura that made him stand out. Spotting the red iron dragon training below, the gold dragon’s eyes brightened. He adjusted course and descended quickly to land near Garoth. “Hey! Garoth, long ti no see!” The gold dragon tossed his head; atop it were layered horns like a magnificent crown—crudely speaking, four pairs of them, unusually eye-catching. Garoth cast a wary glance, pausing on those overly abundant horns. He asked evenly, “Your sister Nasha didn’t make you drop those extra horns?” Gold Dragon Alberto scoffed casually, “Hah, her? Not worth the trouble.” He thought to himself: if they break off, just put them back on later. What’s the big deal? Since those impressive horns had “grown,” Alberto noticed that wherever he went he drew more attention, more gasps, even looks of awe. That only strengthened his resolve to keep the look. After all, aside from a few elder dragons, most creatures couldn’t tell the difference between real and fake. “After your slumber you’re bigger, and your scales and wings changed, but it seems… your life aura hasn’t risen much?” Alberto scrutinized Garoth, eyes gleaming. He’d heard that Garoth had awakened and co to the convergence lands; one of Alberto’s purposes was to see, with his own eyes, how much this foe who had beaten him many tis had grown, so he could compare it to his own gains after slumber. From his initial sensing, Garoth’s aura didn’t seem much stronger. Although Garoth looked more imposing and the black armor was impressive, the life aura coming off him didn’t feel drastically different from before his slumber. “Yeah, that matches what you sensed,” Garoth nodded without denial. Yet involuntary thoughts rose in the gold dragon’s mind. We’re both life level eighteen, but since I awakened I’ve really mastered several powerful skills; I’m not the sa as before. Maybe now’s my chance to settle the score with Garoth? The more he thought, the more fired up he beca. He disliked beating around the bush. Stepping forward, eyes burning, he announced solemnly, “Garoth! I, Alberto, formally challenge you!” Then he cautiously added, “Provided you don’t use that special state where your whole body sprouts red lotus patterns!” Garoth had no reason to refuse such a request. He nodded and accepted. Two minutes later they quickly settled on the specifics and stakes of the challenge. Like before, if Alberto lost he would have to take back on the debts he had just paid off—this ti a heavier burden; as for what Garoth would lose if he lost… he actually didn’t quite rember what he’d casually agreed to earlier, since to him that possibility was negligible. “Let’s fight in the sky, so we don’t wreck your Dragon Valley,” Alberto said excitedly, wings beating as he rose first into the night, assuming a combat posture. On the ground, Garoth looked up, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Fine, let take off this cumberso armor first.” Clang! Clang! Clang! With slight body shifts and muscle contractions, heavy steel pieces peeled away and fell, pounding the solid valley floor with thunderous impacts, gouging huge craters and radiating cracks into the ground. Soon the last pauldron thudded down. Garoth revealed his body covered in black-red scales and Battle-Hardened Patterns. It was as if he’d broken free of a restraint; a life aura and dragon might far more terrifying and formidable than before roared out in substance-like waves. The surrounding air seed to freeze at that instant. Life level twenty—Alberto couldn’t precisely sense the grade with his perception, but he now knew without a doubt that Garoth’s true level must far exceed his own. Under Garoth’s imnse dragon might he felt waves of heart-palpitation. His keen senses warned him: if this were an enemy, he should run now or call for aid from his legendary dragon elders. He had felt such oppression before only from dragons that truly touched the legendary domain. He had never felt anything like this from any dragon below legendary. “I’ll let you strike first. Co on.” Garoth rolled his thick neck with a faint grinding of bone and spoke calmly. Alberto inhaled the cold air as if making a decision. Then, under Garoth’s gaze, he resolutely restrained all battle postures and fast-descended back to the ground. He planted his feet, eyes stern and imposing, and announced in a deep voice, “I, Alberto Aurelius, concede!” If one only saw his proud stance and the determined glint, without hearing him, one might assu it was a grand declaration of battle. Garoth: “Not even trying? Maybe there’s a chance?” Alberto, resolute: “No chance, I concede.” Garoth: “I just finished so intense training; I’m a bit tired now. You might actually have a shot.” Alberto expressionless: “No shot. I concede.” Garoth, teasing: “Where did that gold dragon confidence and arrogance of yours go?” Alberto bluntly: “Gone. I concede.” He made up his mind; in any case he absolutely didn’t want Garoth to actually strike. Otherwise, he’d probably be out for a very long ti. Garoth shook his head ruefully: “I should have taken off the armor in the fight to give you a surprise.” That probably wouldn’t be a surprise so much as a trauma-inducing shock... Alberto silently grumbled. “Ah, when will the oath I made in my youth ever be fulfilled…” Thinking about the heavier debt he’d once again taken on, the gold dragon tilted his head to the night sky, his expression full of undefined lancholy. However, the reminder of his oath quickly reawakened his unyielding fighting spirit. He scorned any shortcut and instead brightened, quietly moving aside to resu high-intensity training. Even if he still couldn’t surpass Garoth, he could at least beco stronger—stronger than nearly all other dragons. Suddenly, Alberto found Trixie’s ecological niche theory intriguing. If he couldn’t take back face from Garoth, he could use the drive from being bullied by Garoth to bully other, weaker evil dragons. That seed like a good plan. With that thought, Alberto’s gloom evaporated and turned into excitent and fervor as he sweated golden sweat into the night. After so ti, the red iron dragon finished all his planned training for the day, while Gold Dragon Alberto kept obsessively going as if tireless. Garoth had no interest in competing further with him. After finishing his routine, he stopped decisively and beat his wings to return to the grand, warm bedchamber within Scorchsteel Fortress. The red iron dragon lay on a bed piled high with hordes of gold coins, various gemstones, and stacks of magical precious tals. His nimble tail flicked and tossed a few high-quality magic gems to his mouth, and he casually chewed and swallowed them like candy as a small energy supplent after intense training. Such luxury would be unthinkable without rich resources under his rule. Not long after, Garoth adjusted into a more comfortable position and curled his tail under his head like a pillow, preparing to sleep and rest. Just then, the scales covering his eyes twitched slightly, as if keenly sensing sothing. He lifted his head and looked toward the huge heavy tal door of the bedchamber. Creak— With a faint clear scraping sound, the door was pushed open a crack from outside, and a graceful, beautiful silhouette slipped silently in. It was Deborah, the brass-silver dragon. She moved with nearly soundless steps. But as she fully entered the room, her long tail flicked with the speed of an eye. “Oh!” A soft startled exclamation. The faerie dragon, who had been invisible, was swept out by that tail, tumbled through the air several tis, then wrapped up by Deborah’s tail and tossed outside the doorway. Deborah’s tail then flicked again, and the heavy tal door shut tight. She cast several sealing spells to completely isolate inside from out. Having done that, she behaved as if nothing had happened. She strolled up and stopped in front of the bed piled with treasure. Deborah’s long neck lowered slightly, her eyes eting Garoth’s, conveying an indescribable timidity mixed with a bold invitation. She said nothing and simply exhaled. Her breath carried the scent of tallic dragons and brushed Garoth’s nose and faceplate. Then Garoth emitted a low, deep breath from his throat. “You decided?” he asked. “Yes.” The brass-silver dragon replied softly. Garoth then didn’t speak further and instead responded in action. The tail he had been using as a pillow loosened and curled around Deborah’s ankle. Scale touched scale, producing a faint rustling. Deborah did not resist; on the contrary she stepped forward, bringing their massive bodies close so their scales touched, allowing her to clearly feel Garoth’s heartbeat beneath his chest—restless and hot. Garoth lowered his enormous head and brushed his snout along the side of Deborah’s neck scales. At the sa ti Deborah lifted a forelimb and gently rested it on Garoth’s broad, solid shoulder, sheathing her claws and feeling the strength coursing under his scales. Coins and gems shifted, creating a crisp, pleasant accompanint. The red wing mbranes slowly spread and grew larger—not for flight, but like a curtain folding closed, bearing an unmistakable posture of protection and possession, enveloping both of them and shielding them from outside prying.
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