Beskarl's pupils contracted to the extre, the vertical slits reflecting the figure and posture of the Red Iron Dragon Emperor.
It was a red iron dragon larger than he was, and not just larger—its dignity and montum far exceeded anything he had imagined.
Its scales, interwoven in dark red and pitch black, were thick and dense, layered like armor, radiating a tallic, lava-like sheen. Countless battle-hardened patterns crisscrossed the plates; the muscle beneath the scales was powerful, as if cast from steel.
The dragon, simply hovering there, exuded an overwhelming aura of invincibility.
White Dragon Beskarl felt his heart skip a beat, his blood briefly freeze.
Could... could he win?
Probably not.
Why did I wake up only to run into such a terrifying evil dragon?
..........
For a mont, Beskarl wanted nothing more than to sink back into the rift and return to slumber.
At the sa ti, he weighed his options quickly.
The harsh words he had spat earlier still hung in the air, but the iron fist of reality had already landed on his face.
Concede? Admit defeat? Seek a peaceful resolution?
He did not want to fight this red iron dragon that looked so unpleasant to provoke.
On Beskarl’s draconic face, where solemn ferocity had been written, a smile slowly stretched—too friendly, almost servile.
But—
"Your Majesty! This white dragon says he wants to tear out your bones to decorate his broken ice nest!"
Ogre Gruff bellowed at the top of his lungs, enunciating every word clearly, as if afraid the emperor in the sky might not hear.
The forced smile on White Dragon Beskarl froze, then shattered into pieces.
The Red Iron Dragon Emperor lowered his imposing head and looked down at the stiff-smiling ancient white dragon.
"Oh? Is that so?"
"I shall wait and see."
His voice was low, unreadable for joy or anger, yet it carried a terrifying pressure.
As he spoke, he casually shifted his massive body.
Hum—hum!
The air emitted a deep, resonant vibration.
Solidifying black-red breath erupted from the gaps of each scale, not spreading chaotically but gathering as if alive, interweaving and shaping...
Under the white dragon’s tense gaze, a second, equally fierce head ignited with black-red breath and suddenly manifested above and behind the Red Iron Dragon's shoulder.
It appeared beside the main head, four dragon pupils flashing with austere focus.
At the sa ti, behind the dragon's shoulder blades, two gigantic arms ford entirely from condensed draconic qi, muscles defined and covered in burning breath.
The Red Iron Dragon Emperor had instantly shifted into battle form.
Twin heads raised high, one to the left and one to the right, scanning the sky. Four dragon pupils locked onto the white dragon; four arms spread—so clenching into fists, others extending razor claws—seemingly sealing off every escape route.
This towering, ferocious silhouette utterly dominated Beskarl's vision, filling his every sense.
By comparison, his ancient white dragon body suddenly felt thin and fragile.
Hiss...
White Dragon Beskarl inhaled a sharp, pure breath of the northern cold, and the last flicker of daring to test the situation vanished.
Run!
Now! Imdiately! Run without looking back!
The thought flashed across Beskarl’s mind.
White Dragons were not known for speed among dragons, but Beskarl had escaped stronger predators’ claws countless tis when he was weaker; he knew how crucial velocity could be.
So he condensed traits favoring burst and flight speed.
His white wings trembled slightly, and an extre cold gale ford from nothing, clinging to his wings like a living storm, rapidly spinning and freezing the air into shards of ice.
He was ready to flee.
"Did I give you permission to leave?"
With an indifferent whisper, the red iron dragon lifted one foreclaw in the air, aiming it at the white dragon preparing to bolt.
Claim Life!
A forceless, immaterial, yet overwhelmingly potent tug shot out from the tip of the red iron dragon’s claw.
Wham—!
Countless snow and wind were pulled, distorted, and rolled into a visible tornado by this force.
One end of it was connected to the red iron dragon's claw; the other end latched tightly onto Beskarl's body.
Crunch! Crunch!
Tooth-grinding cracking sounds rang out.
At the tornado’s far end, Beskarl’s scales began to fracture and break at the edges.
Thread by thread, dragon blood was forcibly ripped free and sucked into the vortex, churning toward the Red Iron Dragon’s torso.
White Dragon Beskarl had barely begun to escape when a faint weakness washed over him, his bodily attributes dropping noticeably.
"This skill is... Claim Life of the Eternal Death Dragon?"
"This can’t be right; why is it so strong? How much better are his constitution attributes than mine?"
Beskarl felt absurdly incredulous.
Then the Red Iron Dragon Emperor unfurled his massive wings! The wingspan easily exceeded a hundred ters, blotting out the sky like a hanging cloud.
This posture was clearly the prelude to a charge.
His target was obvious.
On the other side, having witnessed all of this, White Dragon Beskarl made a decision faster than at any other ti in his long life.
Before the Red Iron Dragon Emperor officially launched his assault,
Beskarl gathered all the outward-cast cold and hostility. Instead of fleeing, his body flowed downwards in a smooth motion, pressing his four claws into the thawing frozen ground, bowing his head deeply. His long neck and spine ford a submissive arc.
"Great Emperor Ignas! Mighty Red-and-Iron Dragon."
"I trespassed into Your Majesty's domain and offended your draconic might. I deserve a thousand deaths."
"Your dragon might covers the world. To behold Your Majesty’s true form and personally experience Your Majesty’s vast majesty today, I finally understand how wide this world is and how small I am! In the past I was like a frog at the bottom of a well, seeing only the sky above—arrogant and foolish! All the rumors about Your Majesty are nowhere near Your true grandeur."
"Please forgive ! Pardon this ignorant, foolish dragon’s offense."
"I am willing to offer all the treasures I have gathered over my long years as compensation! Or, by any other ans that would satisfy Your Majesty’s grace, I beg for your rcy."
His head pressed tightly against the ground, posture humble and abject.
Silence.
A deathlike hush fell over the area.
Only the roar of superheated breath and the sizzle of surrounding ice lting under the heat remained.
The ogres and ogre warriors of the Aola Kingdom were dumbstruck, hardly daring to believe their eyes.
They knew the emperor was powerful, they knew his majesty, but to see a legendary ancient dragon kneel so simply and utterly, humbling itself into the dust before His Majesty—such a visual and emotional impact was inexpressible.
Truly our great emperor!
Where the dragon's might reaches, dragons bow!
The warriors’ reverence for the Red Iron Dragon Emperor climbed to a new level.
In the sky, the red iron dragon’s twin heads lowered slightly, looking down at the ancient dragon whose posture had shifted with such fluid humility.
"No wonder white dragons are regarded as a sha by many dragon kinds."
"An ancient dragon shaped by years and ice, now crawling ekly on the ground."
Garoth’s voice was cold and sharp.
This rciless assessnt struck straight into the deepest wells of Beskarl’s inferiority and hidden pain.
His body stiffened; he clenched his claws, tensed every muscle, then slowly relaxed, forcing down his anger while burying his head lower to hide any expression.
"We dragons revere the strong, not the aged. You are right."
He clicked his teeth, assenting.
Yet Garoth did not stop at belittlent.
He changed tone and said, "But there is one thing you possess that many stronger kin do not."
Beskarl could not help but raise his ears a fraction.
"Sense the ti."
Both heads of the Red Iron Dragon Emperor spoke together.
"Or, more accurately, a sober understanding of the gap in strength and a tenacious will to survive."
"Most great dragons are proud; even when facing an unbeatable foe, they often charge roaring into oblivion to defend an illusion of dignity, burning a long life and future possibilities in one foolish rush."
"But you, at the mont you saw reality clearly, chose the option most conducive to survival."
"This wisdom may not sound very draconic, but in the present age it is more valuable than re brute force."
The red iron dragon’s voice was grand yet calm, and his judgnt surprised Beskarl.
There was no further humiliation.
Instead, he offered an unusual form of affirmation.
"Your Majesty, thank you for your recognition. I rarely hear such approval from my kind."
Beskarl raised his head slightly, then after two seconds of silence said.
The red iron dragon in the air adjusted the posture of his four arms.
The invisible pressure eased a little, but the aura of majesty still enveloped everything.
"You slumbered on the icefield, craving power and dominion only to prove that white dragons are not weak, to carve out a place in this vast world."
"But with the limits of your bloodline and the barrenness of the icefield, how far can you truly see?"
He paused, letting the aning sink in, then stared at the white dragon and continued.
"Now I give you two choices."
"First, you can leave."
"Let today be seen as a misunderstanding. I have no intention of slaughtering an ancient dragon who humbly bows for survival. You can leave the icefield and find so remote, desolate land to demonstrate your legendary might, to be king in a limited territory, and enjoy the awe and offerings of the weak."
"Until one day you et a stronger being you cannot placate, who strips you of everything; or, over long years, loneliness grinds away your last ambition and heat, and you die obscure and unnoticed."
As he spoke, the Red Iron Dragon descended slowly to Beskarl’s level.
He stood tall and straight, a powerful body planted on the earth, wings shielding the wind and snow, almost covering the entire white dragon.
"Second,"
For an instant all four dragon pupils flared bright, and the red iron dragon extended a massive claw toward the white dragon.
"Join . Enter the Aola Kingdom, be the teeth and scales that guard its vast territories."
"With , strength does not co only from bloodline. Resources, knowledge, warfare, clashes with stronger beings, an ever-expanding kingdom as backing—these will beco the steps to break through bloodline ceilings."
"Under you will not beco a red dragon or a blue dragon, but I can show you how far a pragmatic and clear-headed white dragon can rise—far beyond what you could achieve alone."
"Here, you will no longer be just 'White Dragon Beskarl.' You will be one of my dragons under Garoth Ignas, a legendary dragon who expands Aola’s lands and shakes the world. Your na will be spread with the kingdom’s glory; you will receive matching honor, authority, and genuine respect."
The white dragon was silent.
The Red Iron Dragon Emperor’s words pierced his soul and touched his core.
To stay ant submission, a loss of so freedom.
But to leave?
Return to the cold past, guard a future as far as the eye could see, repeat a destiny of being scorned by stronger dragon kinds?
The other had seen through his weakness, yet did not rely despise him. Instead, he saw value and offered him an unprecedented platform.
For Beskarl, being "seen," being "recognized," even being "needed"—these sensations were unprecedented.
The silence felt longer than his previous slumber.
Finally, Beskarl could not help raising his head.
In a daze he almost saw the red iron dragon glowing all over like a sun in front of him—so dazzling and scorching he could not stare at it directly, yet he found himself irresistibly drawn.
When he ca back to himself, he found his claw already placed on the emperor’s talon.
The red iron dragon gave a gentle tug, helping the white dragon rise from his prostrate position.
Under the red iron dragon’s gaze, Beskarl stepped back slightly and bowed his body again.
But he no longer crawled; he presented himself as one paying homage to a sovereign, forelegs bent, head lowered in a reverent arc.
"Long slumber has made understand the value of strength and has wearied of my own weakness."
"Great Emperor Ignas, I, Beskarl, frost-calamity of the cold... am willing to follow beneath your wings, to guard your territories, to tear apart your enemies!"
He declared solemnly.
Beskarl had endured over eight hundred years of rises and falls, a cautious realist—not a naive hatchling who could be wholly seduced into blind loyalty by a few tempting words.
He did not fully trust the Red Iron Dragon’s promises.
But he understood the weight of opportunity.
Garoth had no intent to kill him and did not pursue his offense.
Trying to join the Aola Kingdom carried no imdiate loss.
If later the situation proved different, or the kingdom was not a suitable ho...
Unless Garoth personally watched him every mont, who could easily stop a legendary ancient dragon determined to leave?
He still had a way out.
Across from him, the Red Iron Dragon Emperor inclined one head slightly.
As for whatever plans the white dragon still held in his heart, Garoth might see through them or not care.
What mattered to him was the result.
As long as Beskarl remained, he would not escape Garoth’s talon—Garoth’s Dragon Taming Technique had been proven ti and again.
"A wise choice, Beskarl."
He withdrew his giant claw. The black-red breath burning along his body began to retract. The second snarling head and the two additional arms slowly dissipated, becoming threads of breath that returned to the main body.
He resud his normal majestic posture, but his authority was undiminished.
"Rember my words today. Rise. From this mont, you are a dragon of Aola."
Garoth told Beskarl.
From then on, the Aola Kingdom officially added a dragon legend.
Though the white dragon was weak compared to others, a legendary white dragon, even a relatively weak one, was stronger than most legends of the sa tier.
With this legendary ancient dragon in their ranks, the Aola Kingdom would face the coming wars with greater confidence.
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