Translator: AnubisTL
"I have a deep prejudice against metallic dragons. Explain it to me in detail."
Garos didn't refute the red-silver dragon's assessment. Instead, he stretched his neck forward, signaling her to continue.
As a red-iron dragon who had grown up in a harsh environment, he understood better than anyone the fatal consequences of flawed perceptions. If this cognitive trap could be avoided in advance, all the better.
The red-silver dragon folded her wings and adjusted to a more comfortable position.
"First, you must understand that in the Metallic Dragon Clan, those extremists who blindly call for war against evil dragons are actually a tiny minority."
She raised a claw and gestured as she spoke. "When most metallic dragons encounter evil dragons, their first instinct is to try to guide them to change their alignment. After all..."
Deborah lowered her voice. "It's the chaotic evil dragons that pose the truly dangerous threat."
"Think of it like the red dragons, black dragons, and white dragons among the chromatic dragons."
Her tone turned serious as she continued, "They are breeding grounds for completely reckless madmen. Even the relatively lawful green and blue dragons can produce individuals who completely lose control. These chaotic evil dragons not only endanger other races but also threaten the dragon race itself."
The wind and snow swirled between the two dragons.
The red-silver dragon paused before saying, "But alignment is never an immutable label."
"Especially for traumatized young dragons, prolonged abuse or exile makes them more likely to fall into the abyss of chaos."
"So if you could take in these abandoned young and juvenile dragons,"
Deborah's eyes lit up as if she had thought of something interesting. "You don't need to turn them good—just guiding them from chaos to lawful is considered a commendable achievement by the rationalist metallic dragons."
Creatures of the good alignment who acquire chaotic traits can be even more difficult to deal with than lawful evil beings.
An evil alignment combined with a chaotic alignment creates a walking disaster.
Garos tapped his claws lightly on the ground, deep in thought.
If the red-silver dragon was right, Garos realized his perspective was rather narrow. In the eyes of metallic dragons, chaotic evil dragons were the most dangerous. Among equally evil creatures, lawful evil ones were actually more acceptable.
Lawful evil dragons were still unwelcome, of course.
But compared to those utterly illogical chaotic lunatics, they were at least predictable and open to negotiation.
"For example, my red dragon father, whom I've never met."
Even from Silver Dragon Edri's brief, casual description, Garos could sense how dangerous his red dragon father was.
The red-silver dragon narrowed her eyes slyly. "Imagine if you cultivated enough lawful evil dragons...". Her voice rose slightly with anticipation. "Perhaps even the Platinum Dragon God might cast a approving glance your way."
"Let's skip that," Garos said, flicking his tail warily.
There were no free gifts in this world, and he wanted nothing to do with divine spirits.
The power gap between them was too vast.
Being noticed by a being capable of determining his fate would make Garos, with his slight paranoia, extremely uneasy.
Who knew what consequences might arise from the fleeting whims of those supreme beings?
After calming his mind, Garos took a deep breath of the crisp air. "Dragon Valley won't shelter evil dragons indiscriminately. We'll keep their numbers within reasonable limits."
He silently calculated in his mind.
Even if they sheltered and nurtured dozens or even hundreds of lawful evil dragons, they would still be but a drop in the ocean across the vast multiverse. They wouldn't attract the particular attention of any divine spirits.
Even if believers prayed to the gods daily, unless they reached a certain level of spiritual attainment, their prayers would rarely be noticed or answered—let alone those of non-believers.
Much less juvenile dragons.
For mature or even fully grown dragons to believe they could earn the favor of the gods was sheer arrogance.
"I'm going to start training," the red-iron dragon said, focusing his mind. He turned to Deborah. "Join me?"
The red-silver dragon's tail flicked in agreement. "Gladly."
The wind and snow continued, and time flowed onward at its unhurried pace.
In the suburbs of the capital of the Kingdom of Lothurn stood the newly built Spark Monastery.
Before the morning mist had fully dissipated, and as the sky began to glow with faint light, nearly a hundred children were already spaced out across the bluestone plaza, arranged in training formations.
Their bare skin steamed with heat, their faces still childish but their eyes burning with extraordinary resolve. Sweat poured down like rain, yet not a single child cried out in pain or uttered a complaint.
These children.
They were orphans taken in by the Gemstone Merchant Guild and entrusted to the Divine Dragon Sect's reserves at the Spark Monastery.
All of them had been beggars and orphans, abandoned without parents. After enduring the Gemstone Merchant Guild's rigorous screening process, which even employed magic, only those with indomitable wills, grateful hearts, and potential for cultivation were selected.
Now, the children were undergoing basic training in the Divine Dragon Sect's methods.
They maintained the Dragon Coiling Stance, balancing on one leg like a coiled dragon's tail, a heavy stone hanging from their ankles. Most of them swayed and trembled, gritting their teeth to keep their legs raised and prevent the stones from touching the ground.
Among them, a ten-year-old boy stood out.
Though blindfolded, his movements were flawless, his body as solid as a boulder, utterly unwavering. He performed exceptionally well among the group.
His name was Aster. Born blind, his other senses had developed with extraordinary acuity.
He could smell the myriad scents in the air, feel the subtle shifts in airflow as snowflakes passed, and hear the faintest sounds.
Perhaps because his eyes were blind, unable to witness the world's splendor or ugliness, he possessed extraordinary focus during cultivation. His progress was the fastest, earning him the title of "eldest senior brother" at Spark Monastery.
"Spine Rising Like a Dragon!"
The Divine Dragon Martial Monk Baldur's booming voice shook the air.
This burly martial monk, bare-chested in the snowy weather with a massive dragon tattoo etched into his skin, struck a pose resembling a dragon soaring into the sky. His spine stretched with a sound like popping beans.
The children simultaneously shifted their stances.
They were a mix of boys and girls, most of their movements still awkward, yet they tried their best to mimic their instructor's actions.
As time passed, they sometimes arched their necks like young dragons, at other times stretched their arms like wings, striking one dragon stance after another.
"Remember! Stance is merely the surface, the vessel. The true core is qi!"
"Feel the flow of your breath, grasp that wisp of qi."
Baldur strode among the novice martial monks, speaking as he corrected the movements of a boy with a stern face and fierce eyes.
The boy's name was Theros, he was eight years old and covered in scars.
He was also an orphan, but unlike the others, he wasn't timid or self-conscious. When the Gemstone Merchant Guild found him, he was beating a stray dog to death with his bare fists for snatching his bread.
Just then.
The ground suddenly trembled as if some colossal being had landed outside.
Yet, after feeling the tremor, the children in the room couldn't help but break into delighted smiles.
"The great King of Steel has arrived! Crawl, you little insects, and greet him!"
Iron Dragon Gordon squeezed into the monastery with uneven strides, his attendants following close behind, carrying trays of delicacies that most people had never even heard of.
Even though the food was sealed in boxes, the slightest aroma leaking out made the children's mouths water uncontrollably.
"Baldur greets you," the Divine Dragon Martial Monk in charge of the Spark Monastery said, bowing stiffly. His gaze toward the iron dragon was filled with awe and admiration.
He was a member of the Dragon Heart Society, a dragon admirer who took pride in being close to dragonkind and serving them.
"Rise. You've worked hard."
The iron dragon chuckled and pulled a bottle of royal magic potion from beneath his scales, casually handing it to the Divine Dragon Martial Monk. "A small gift. Take it. Drink it when you're tired to restore your energy."
Giving a gift upon meeting was a tactic he had learned from interacting with nobles. It could earn him the favor of those in higher positions and win the hearts of those below.
Apart from Princess Elena, he would collect his shed scales or teeth and turn them into small gifts for other princes, princesses, and even the king.
The value of these gifts was secondary.
Receiving a small gift from a dragon would undoubtedly create a special feeling.
To get back to the matter at hand, Iron Dragon was reluctant to scatter gold coins. However, he would freely give away magic potions—which were even more valuable than gold and gems—without a second thought.
"Thank you for your generosity," the Divine Dragon Martial Monk said, bowing his head with a delighted look in his eyes.
"Little crawlers, why don't I hear your cheers?" Iron Dragon asked, striding into the square with heavy steps and deliberately putting on a stern expression.
"Welcome the great King of Steel!"
The children erupted in cheers, thrilled by the arrival of Iron Dragon Gordon. Their clear voices echoed across the square.
This was Gordon's third visit.
When he accompanied Princess Elena on a charitable outing, he guided her to the Spark Monastery. He expressed his fascination with the Divine Dragon Martial Monks, which naturally led to their visit here, where he brought the monastery high-quality food and offered his guidance.
It wasn't really guidance, though.
Take this moment, for example.
"Little crawlers, come feel a true dragon!"
After receiving permission, the children ended their training and gathered around Iron Dragon Gordon. They closely stroked his scales, observing his form and posture, and sensing his qi.
Despite his massive size, Gordon's plump, rounded appearance lacked any real menace.
He simply wasn't scary.
"You, little thing named Aisha, aren't you afraid of me anymore?"
The iron dragon extended a claw and gently tapped the girl, whose frame was as slender as a sprout.
Hearing his question, Aisha—who had once been skin and bones, cowering in a corner and waiting to die—now dared to reply, "No, I'm not! You bring us delicious food. I like you!"
"Rest assured, with the great King of Steel here, you'll never go hungry again," Gordon declared with a flap of his wings, his voice booming with confidence.
It wasn't just for the mission; Iron Dragon Gordon also relished the feeling of being the center of attention, like a star surrounded by a constellation.
When he mixed with the children like this, Iron Dragon Gordon felt invincible, as if he were a "divine spirit," which greatly satisfied his vanity.
Sporadic snowflakes continued to fall.
Yet the Spark Monastery remained warm.
The "King of Steel" got along splendidly with the future Divine Dragon Martial Monks. When the children looked up at the iron dragon, their eyes held no fear or apprehension of this alien dragon, but instead overflowed with reverence and admiration.
The seeds sown by the Ignis Brothers here were quietly taking root and gradually sprouting.
(End of the Chapter)
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