Translator: AnubisTL
The first light of dawn spilled over Dragon Valley, gilding the cliffs on either side with a golden sheen. Burning Steel Citadel, perched atop the precipice, glowed a faint crimson, as if burning in the morning light.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The wind arrived before the dragons.
A red-iron dragon, already massive in stature, beat its wings as it drew closer. The Earthstorm Bears and wyverns guarding the fortress noticed it and bowed their heads slightly in respect before resuming their vigilant patrol.
Garos circled briefly, bypassing Burning Steel Citadel, and landed directly on the open ground of Dragon Valley.
The red dragon and iron dragon followed closely behind, landing one after another. They released the young and juvenile dragons from their claws, who stumbled as they found their footing.
"Heliam!"
Cahill, who was lying on the ground licking her wounds, paused. She glared at the young blue dragon and snarled, "You damned blue dragon! Do you think risking your life to cover our retreat will earn my gratitude?"
Her voice was thick with fury, and her scales bristled with emotion.
"No! Even if you had died, I wouldn't thank you one bit! Your self-righteous sacrifice robbed me of the choice to fight to the death, leaving me no choice but to flee like a coward—it's an absolute disgrace!"
It was clear she was absolutely livid.
The blue dragon smiled. "But because of that, we're all saved, aren't we?"
Though he was only a juvenile, the rationality and composure characteristic of blue dragons were already evident. He didn't lose his temper at the red dragon's scolding, forming a stark contrast to her volatile nature.
"Pure luck!" Cahill snarled, her tail thrashing the ground in frustration. "If we hadn't happened to run into the adult dragons of the Ignis Family, I would have died without dignity after a desperate flight! I'd rather have fought to the death!"
The red dragon's pride made it impossible for her to accept a survival bought with the sacrifice of her companions. To her, it was nothing short of a humiliation.
Heliam met her gaze directly. He didn't argue, only saying softly, "You're right. But regardless, Cahill... we owe you this time."
The red dragon fell silent, as if choked by his words.
After a few seconds, she finally snorted and turned her head away. "...Don't let it happen again."
Garos watched the scene quietly, then glanced back at Samantha.
The Cahill before him had a personality somewhat similar to Samantha's.
Pride, arrogance, a refusal to admit defeat—these were common traits of red dragons, as recorded in the inheritance, fitting the group's general characteristics.
As for the finer differences, there were bound to be some, but he didn't know enough about Cahill yet to say for sure.
One thing was obvious, though: Cahill snarled much more than Samantha, had a fiercer temper, and was far more volatile. Even when surrounded by Garos and the other dragons, she had instinctively bared her teeth and roared.
Is it because Samantha grew up under my thumb? Garos wondered. And because she was slapped by reality the moment she left the wilderness, which ground down her fiery temper?
In comparison, the red dragon Cahill still needed a lesson in humility.
In Garos's view, pride was fine—the dragon bloodline was indeed remarkable, and they had every right to be proud. But to be so arrogant as to ignore the vast difference in power and provoke a being far stronger than oneself was simply foolish.
If she continued like this without changing, a dragon like her would eventually meet an early end.
However, with a proper "nurturer," things could be different.
"Why are you staring at me?" Samantha asked, tilting her head in confusion under Garos's gaze.
"It's nothing," the red-iron dragon replied, shaking his head. He gestured for the little dragons to gather around.
"You mentioned allegiance earlier," the black dragon said, her skeletal frame nearly piercing through her skin. "What form will it take? If you intend to treat me like a slave, you might as well kill me now."
She was a young female dragon, yet her appearance was ferocious.
Her visage was terrifying, with a pair of curved horns and a withered face, giving her the likeness of a demonic skull.
Garos looked at the black dragon.
Information about black dragons from his inheritance naturally surfaced in his mind.
Black dragons prefer to dwell in gloomy swamps or mudflats—the filthier and more foul-smelling, the better. They delight in witnessing pain and destruction, preferring to torture their prey slowly rather than kill them outright. Their temperaments are gloomy and malicious, and they are adept at dealing with the undead.
Most dragons who choose the path of a necromancer are black dragons.
"What's the rush?"
The young dragon with scales as fresh green as new leaves interrupted. "The adult dragons are willing to provoke the duchy to save us. They've taken a huge risk. It's only right that we serve them loyally for the rest of our lives in return."
Hearing this, Garos shifted his gaze to the green dragon.
This was a male green dragon, with a well-proportioned and slender build, and eyes that looked quite clever.
Green dragons possessed a unique innate talent for sensing and controlling nature. In terms of appearance among the chromatic dragons, they were somewhat comparable to silver dragons among the metallic dragons—but only for females. Female green dragons were full of charm and grace, while males appeared somewhat slender and weak among dragonkind, far less majestic and powerful than male silver dragons.
In terms of personality...
The racial impression of green dragons is actually somewhat similar to that of Garos.
If an enemy appears to be cunning or difficult to deal with, a green dragon will not act recklessly. Instead, it will quietly shadow the opponent to find the most opportune time and tactic for an attack.
Conversely, if the target seems weak, the green dragon will appear swiftly, first attempting to control the target with skills like Intimidation and Suggestion. If control fails, it will kill them directly.
However, accurately judging an enemy's strength requires seasoned experience. Young green dragons are easily swayed by the pride inherent in dragonkind, often leading them to underestimate their foes and inadvertently place themselves in danger.
"What exactly do we need to pay?"
At this moment, Heliam spoke up.
His head was short and blunt, with a massive single horn growing above his nose. A cluster of blade-like scales adorned his chin, and his entire body was covered in azure dragon scales.
Blue dragons, the lawful representatives among evil dragons, are organized and disciplined. They expect and demand clear definitions and well-structured relationships. They can accept orders from other dragons but refuse to tolerate foolish leaders.
To blue dragons, order was essential—without rules, there could be no structure.
Their obsession with order generally surpassed even that of the iron dragons. Yet, the evil of blue dragons lay in their belief that the sole purpose of lesser beings was to be their playthings—and they knew how to play.
"Cahill, you tell them," Garos said unhurriedly, under the gaze of several little dragons.
Cahill was reluctant to perform such a menial task as relaying information, but under Garos's steady gaze, she nodded grudgingly and shared what she had learned with the others.
The land beneath their feet was called the Frontierlands.
The Dragon Valley where they now stood was the central hub of the Frontierlands, and under the Ironforged Tribe's command.
The Ironforged Lord, King of the Frontierlands, was the very red-iron dragon who had personally rescued them.
In return, they were required to swear fifty years of loyalty to the Tribe and the Ironforged Lord. During this period, all spoils of war and wealth they acquired would belong to the Ironforged Lord, though exceptional performance could be rewarded with wealth.
In exchange for their loyalty, the Tribe would also provide them with certain resources to aid their growth.
However, during this period, they had to prove their worth.
For example, they had to choose their first class according to the tribe's needs and not waste time. After fifty years, they could choose whether to leave or stay.
In the eyes of dragonkind, fifty years was a very short time. Being required to choose their first class according to the tribe's needs was no big deal, after all, dragons lived long lives and would dual-class into many professions.
In short, Dragon Valley's requirements were much more lenient than those of the blue dragon community.
"Generous terms."
The green dragon lowered its head in respect and praised, "Mighty Ironforged Lord, your magnanimity earns my admiration. I am honored to become a member of Dragon Valley."
The other dragons had no objections and readily agreed.
"Your injuries are severe. Eat and heal first."
Garos waved his claw, and his familiars immediately brought over food and low-grade healing potions.
As the little dragons feasted, the red-iron dragon said, "I have arranged a nurturer for you. She will be responsible for providing your food and supervising your training and growth."
"A nurturer? Who is it?"
Cahill, the red dragon, lifted her head, her gaze sweeping over Samantha and Solgorn.
In her mind, either the red dragon, the supreme leader of the chromatic dragons, or the iron dragon, the leader of the submetallic dragons, would be qualified to be this nurturer.
Just then—
Whoosh—!
A sudden, piercingly cold wind swept across the clearing as Treacy, a white dragon at the peak of adulthood, descended from the sky. Her vast wings blocked the sun, casting a chilling shadow upon the ground.
"My name is Treacy."
She raised her head, her icy blue vertical pupils scanning the assembled dragons. A cold smirk spread across her lips as she stepped forward, enveloping the little dragons in her shadow.
"Crawlers of the Frontierlands, you shall address me as—the Pale Wing!"
"Listen well, for this is the title of respect you will use from now on!"
Treacy spoke with a haughty, imperious air, her gaze looking down upon them.
Before the young dragons, her ecological standing seemed to soar infinitely. Every inch of her scales radiated the overwhelming pressure of a superior being, reaching an unprecedented height of dominance. This gave her an intensely exhilarating sensation—as if she had endured countless humiliations to finally taste this sweet, triumphant reward.
(End of the Chapter)
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