Chapter 292 Dragon Taming Techniques: The Golden Dragon Chapter

Under the continuous warm sunlight that seemed to melt gold, the young golden dragon Alberto's massive body trembled slightly, and his consciousness, like a pearl sinking into the deep sea, slowly rose to the surface of the bright ocean.

He slowly awoke, feeling as if every scale on his body was immersed in a long-lost sense of peace and tranquility.

After five years of tension, the mental strings have completely relaxed, revealing a languid tranquility.

The world before my eyes, whether it be the swaying wild grass or the rugged rocks, seems to be covered with a soft and warm color filter, making everything appear less sharp and glaring.

He vividly recalled the last scene before he fell into a deep sleep.

—That reckless challenge.

The result was, of course, a crushing defeat, which was a foregone conclusion.

He was completely knocked unconscious by the Red Iron Dragon's final, terrifying breath, and in the most disheveled state, he knelt before the figure covered in black and red scales, which looked like burning metal.

The result was extremely embarrassing.

However, fate always has unexpected arrangements.

It was this crushing defeat that led to his coma, which, by a twist of fate, granted him more than a month of undisturbed, profound rest, as if he were in the dead.

This long slumber was an unimaginable luxury for him.

You must understand that for the previous five years, he was as if he were being whipped day and night by an invisible whip, as if he were being firmly imprisoned by an invisible shackle.

His longest break never exceeded a pitiful day!

Every brief respite is awakened and driven by the vow, throwing them back into the endless crucible of training.

At this moment, in contrast to those five years of agonizing struggle, where every second was precious and every breath was suffocating.

The complete relaxation of his body and mind at this moment caused the proud Jinlong to feel a strange and indescribable soreness welling up deep in his nasal cavity.

Wait, something's not right!

This feeling of soreness is not merely due to emotions, but rather a real physiological stimulus.

My nose not only felt sore, but it was also accompanied by waves of unbearable itching, as if countless tiny, hairy tentacles were gently scratching inside.

This feeling was no illusion; it was rapidly escalating as his consciousness fully returned to normal.

Achoo!!!

Alberto could no longer restrain himself and suddenly opened his enormous dragon mouth.

A deafening sneeze, accompanied by intense heat, erupted from the mouth.

Several meters long, golden-red flames erupted from his nostrils like an angry fire dragon, instantly burning a cluster of itchy flowers that some despicable fellow had secretly stuffed deep into his nostrils while he was asleep into ashes.

A few wisps of smoke, carrying a burnt smell, drifted out of his nostrils.

The golden dragon raised its massive forepaw and rubbed its still somewhat uncomfortable nose with slight annoyance.

However, when his gaze inadvertently swept over his forelimbs, which should have been dazzling, he couldn't help but widen his molten gold-like vertical pupils!

All I saw was...

The dragon scales covering his forelimbs, which were originally as gleaming and magnificent as molten gold, were now visible.

It was covered with countless crooked, childish, and ugly graffiti using all sorts of extremely bright and glaring paints—glaring fluorescent green, tacky pink, and eye-catching bright purple!

It has lines that look like a twisted worm.

There is a pattern that looks like a flattened mushroom.

There were even a few crooked, almost unrecognizable line drawings that looked like turtles or pigs.

Turning his head again, he saw that not only his forelimbs, but his entire body was covered in graffiti.

A bad feeling arose in his heart. He suddenly straightened his huge body, took heavy steps, and quickly walked to the nearby lake that was as clear as a mirror.

He lowered his head, his enormous golden head reflected in the shimmering lake water.

Just as expected!

What came into his view was a still enormous and majestic golden dragon head.

However, at this moment, this majesty was completely destroyed by the colorful and comical graffiti covering the cheeks, foreheads, and even around the eyelids, as if it had been turned into a graffiti wall by a group of drunken dwarf artists.

"Who?! Who dares to draw these blasphemous things on my body, Alberto!"

Jinlong suddenly twisted his neck and looked around.

"Aha! It was Vera who did it!"

A clear, bell-like voice rang out, yet it carried a strong sense of mischievous triumph.

Then, the petite and exquisite fairy dragon Vera, whose scales shimmered with colorful light, nimbly swayed her slender tail and emerged from the dense flower bushes by the lake like a colorful streak of light.

She triumphantly did a somersault in mid-air, grinning as she proclaimed her crime.

At the same time, she didn't forget to make a very standard funny face, exaggerating the corners of her mouth as she looked at Alberto's colorful dragon face.

Alberto looked at the mischievous little fellow, but he wasn't too surprised.

Among the members of Dragon Nest, apart from the Fairy Dragon, no other dragon enjoys playing such pranks.

However, having been so thoroughly humiliated, one must try to get revenge.

Alberto's eyes flickered, deciding to give this arrogant fairy dragon a little scare and let her know that golden dragons are not to be trifled with.

Then, his dragon face, which had looked somewhat comical due to the graffiti, suddenly hardened, deliberately suppressing all gentleness and revealing the ferocity of a top predator.

"Help! Help!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Vera decisively tore open her thin throat and let out a sharp cry for help.

Her butterfly-like wings flapped rapidly, and her small body, like a colorful pebble launched from a slingshot, flew backward with a whoosh, instantly creating a great distance.

However, the expected pursuit did not occur a few seconds later.

Vera stopped flying backwards in confusion, and cautiously turned her head to look. The scene in front of her made her tilt her head, full of puzzlement.

The enormous golden dragon was stretching its limbs in place, seemingly oblivious to its surroundings.

He first stretched his long neck and strong limbs with force, and then began to rhythmically flap his broad and powerful golden dragon wings.

He did not draw upon the sacred oath energy within his body, nor did he utilize any magical energy to aid flight; he simply relied on the power of his wings themselves, purely flapping them.

Each strike landed heavily on the ground, kicking up a cloud of sand and dust.

His enormous body could only clumsily lift off the ground a few meters briefly using pure physical force, before crashing down heavily with a thud, causing the ground to tremble slightly.

"That strange golden dragon, its brain must have been damaged by Garos."

Vera blinked her big eyes, muttered to herself, then silently flapped her wings and quietly moved dozens of meters away from the golden dragon, afraid of being infected by the silly aura emanating from it.

On the other side.

Alberto clearly felt the strange look from the fairy dragon, which was full of sympathy and incomprehension, and a sense of helplessness and bitterness welled up in his heart.

But how can he explain it?

Just now, as he was trying to scare Vera and save face, a bone-chilling cold suddenly gripped his heart.

This is not because he has any physical or mental problems.

Rather, it was a vow he made himself, as firm as an ironclad law, that served as a stern reminder and relentless urging.

Over the past five years, he had become so familiar with this feeling that it was like breathing—every moment of slackening, every thought of deviating from the path to becoming stronger, would bring about this chilling sensation that spurred his soul on.

For example, right now.

The fact that he only wanted to scare the fairy dragon instead of engaging in a real battle to hone his combat skills means that, according to the oath, this behavior is essentially a meaningless and time-wasting form of relaxation.

then.

The invisible, cold whip of oath immediately rose high, ready to lash his soul that was trying to slacken.

He was sternly reminded: Alberto! Your time should only be spent training! On getting stronger! Not on being distracted by such childish and boring things!

fortunately.

Perhaps it was because they had just experienced an unprecedented deep sleep that lasted for more than a month.

His mental string, which had been taut for five years and was almost broken, finally received a precious stretching and repair.

At this moment, Alberto was in an unprecedented state of high spirits and energy. Although he still held the oath in awe, he did not feel much fatigue or strong resistance.

Moreover...

The vow truly made him stronger and more disciplined.

He chose to accept it in silence.

He ignored Vera's gaze, cleared his mind of distractions, and focused all his attention on honing the power of his wings.

"Perhaps, all it takes is a proper rest period, as deep as this one."

As Alberto repeated the tedious and arduous tasks, he thought to himself, "I can actually endure the constraints of this vow."

Thinking like that.

A bold, even somewhat self-destructive plan quietly took shape in his mind.

"Perhaps I can find more opportunities to challenge Galos in the future? Wouldn't being knocked unconscious by him give me a forced and sufficiently long period of rest?"

If he himself wants to sleep and rest on his own initiative, then that damned oath will absolutely not allow it.

This is tantamount to slacking off!

But to actively challenge and anger other powerful beings who are unfamiliar to you? The risk factor is too high, and the slightest carelessness could have serious consequences. It is far safer to challenge the relatively "familiar" Garus.

and.

What if I miraculously win one of those challenges? Wouldn't that break free from this damned oath and prove myself at the same time?

The only problem that gave him a huge headache was...

Challenging Garus comes at a price.

If each challenge requires paying out a considerable amount of gems or gold coins.

He suspected that he would not be able to pay off this mountain of debt for a very, very long time, and that all the wealth he earned in the coming years would probably have to be poured into the bottomless pit of paying off Garros's debts.

Just then.

A sudden, fierce gust of wind swept by, whipping up clouds of dust that blocked out the warm sunlight and cast a vast, oppressive shadow on the ground.

The red iron dragon descended, its majestic body as imposing as a mountain and its robust form as strong as cast iron, blocking out the sunlight.

His enormous wings, more than twice his body length, slowly folded, and with a heavy, steady thud, he landed directly opposite the golden dragon Alberto, who was flapping his wings, and looked at him with great interest.

Given the enormous size and heavy weight of dragons, flight is a marvel.

If it weren't for the fact that its wings are primarily used to adjust angle and direction, providing very limited lift, ordinary dragons would struggle to even glide for long periods using only their wings.

Alberto, standing before us, can briefly lift off the ground without relying on powerful hind limbs to push off the ground; it can do so purely through the physical force of its wings flapping.

This is sufficient proof.

The power contained in his golden dragon wings has surpassed that of most golden dragons of the same level. It seems that he has indeed devoted a lot of effort and sweat to training his wing strength over the past five years.

but.

His current training methods and movements were, in the eyes of Galos, an expert who had honed his physical body to the extreme, completely flawed and inefficient.

Every point of exertion, every stretch of the wing membrane, every adjustment of the center of gravity made Galos frown slightly.

He couldn't resist pointing fingers.

"Stop, Alberto."

His gaze swept over the slightly trembling wing root muscles of the golden dragon, and he said, "Your training method is too slow; it's a pure waste of energy and time."

Before Alberto could respond, Galos turned around.

He strode heavily toward another area of ​​Dragon Valley, leaving behind only a brief statement.

"Come with me."

Led by Red Iron Dragon, Alberto, filled with doubt, followed him to a special place.

The ground here is not soil or rock, but a special alloy steel plate that is several meters thick, cold and hard. Around the site, several metal pillars stand, engraved with complex alchemical runes.

Immediately.

Under the questioning gaze of the golden dragon Alberto, the red iron dragon started the alchemical devices on its own.

With a low hum, a dark light spread from the pillar, instantly enveloping the entire steel arena. Alberto immediately felt his body sink, as if an invisible giant hand was trying to press him to the ground, and the air became incredibly viscous.

Then, a scene that left Alberto speechless and bewildered unfolded.

Galos seemed completely unaffected by the weight gain—or rather, he had long since become accustomed to the pressure.

He began a series of high-intensity, extreme training exercises in a super-gravity field that made Jinlong's eyes widen.

He wasn't simply flapping his wings; instead, he used them as weapons, performing high-speed and precise cutting and striking motions in a super-G environment, his body suspended in mid-air, nimbly tumbling and rolling.

Compared to Galus.

Alberto's pitiful wing-powered flapping practice just now was practically like a young dragon playing around.

The intensity, difficulty, and danger of the two are completely different, separated by countless levels.

"No wonder...no wonder..."

"No wonder I, Alberto, have spent five years training and honing myself relentlessly, almost to the point of self-torture, yet I still cannot surpass him."

He thought to himself silently.

He realized that during those long five years, while he was being spurred forward by his vow, Galus had not stopped either.

Moreover, look at Galos's practiced movements, as natural as breathing.

It can be concluded that...

This is by no means something that can be achieved in just five years of a sudden impulse, but rather through decades of consistent, day-to-day accumulation.

This moment.

The golden dragon Alberto finally understood the root cause of his failure: Garos did not need to be bound by oaths, and was self-disciplined to a degree that was unimaginable to ordinary creatures.

Even if he is a white dragon.

Presumably, it will also be able to shed its status as the weakest of the dragons and rightfully earn the respect and awe of other dragons.

However, before Jinlong's complex emotions could continue to ferment, that familiar chill appeared cruelly, like an icy whip lashing his soul, sternly urging him on.

Don't just stand there and sigh! Start your workout now!

"Okay! Okay!"

Alberto growled impatiently in his heart, suppressing his turbulent thoughts.

He took a deep breath and then walked into the steel casting site.

He gritted his teeth and tried his best to imitate Galos's precise and efficient training posture not far away.

Jinlong's physical attributes were already exceptional, making him one of the best among dragons. In addition, the intense training he underwent over the past five years, driven by his vow, laid a foundation for him that far surpassed that of other Jinlongs of the same age.

With that foundation, he managed to keep going.

Although his movements still appeared incredibly clumsy, sluggish, and slow, completely unable to keep up with Galus's storm-like rhythm and intensity.

But at least.

He was able to follow that steely figure step by step, and begin to train and hone his skills more efficiently.

But as time relentlessly passed.

The sun gradually sank in the west, eventually disappearing below the horizon.

The deep night sky, like a giant velvet curtain, slowly enveloped the entire border region, shrouding it in silent starlight.

On the training field, Alberto Jinlong had already exhausted his last bit of strength.

He collapsed onto the cold, hard metal floor, breathing heavily, too exhausted to even lift his tail.

However, it was right across from him.

That figure, as if cast in steel, continues on.

Accompanied by a thunderous roar like muffled thunder rolling across the earth, it tirelessly honed his already terrifyingly strong body, like an inextinguishable furnace, a machine that never stops.

Even if the scales on his body crumbled, even if dragon blood splattered like sweat, even if his heart pounded like a drum.

He still didn't stop.

"It's really a lucky thing to be able to become his ally rather than his mortal enemy."

Jinlong thought to himself silently.

What Alberto himself didn't realize while watching this scene was...

His once proud golden dragon heart is gradually changing as he learns more about Garros and witnesses firsthand the tempering of will beyond limits.

A brand new emotion called admiration is quietly growing in my heart.

In fact.

Anyone who knows the effort Garros put into becoming stronger, and has witnessed his tenacious and unyielding will, would find it difficult to speak disparagingly of him, regardless of whether he is an ally or a friend, or even an opponent or enemy.

at the same time.

Galos glanced at the golden dragon, noticed the change in his eyes, and nodded in satisfaction.

【Dragon Taming Techniques: Golden Dragon Chapter】

Physical strength and power cannot earn the respect and admiration of the Metal Dragon Chief, but spirit and will can.

(End of this chapter)