Chapter 98 The Twilight Dragon, the Path to Immortality
Galos's dragon wings whipped up a great wind as it roared in, and the clouds above Crescent Valley churned like boiling water.
His shadow had barely crossed the campfire at the bottom of the valley when the entire wolf pack erupted into a frenzy, like a pool of oil about to boil.
"Dragon Lord! The Dragon Lord has returned!"
An old werewolf with half an ear suddenly stood up, its front paws pounding its chest with a muffled, drum-like sound.
The sound was like opening a floodgate, and more and more werewolves rushed out, some with bones still in their mouths, and some still hadn't taken off the claw guards they wore while sleeping.
The werewolf cubs who had been dozing in the den were awakened.
They didn't understand why their elders had all rushed out, letting out long, almost wailing howls at the sky, and then, driven by curiosity, they followed them out.
Amidst the howls of the wolves, Garus folded his wings and landed on an open space in the middle of the Crescent Clan.
He noticed that several young wolf cubs, barely adults, were crowding at the front, their eyes wide open.
These little guys had obviously never seen themselves before, and were desperately trying to stand on tiptoe to see what the legendary Dragon Lord looked like. One particularly daring one even tried to climb onto the roof, but was swatted back into the den by the mother werewolf with a paw.
"Six years and four months!"
Russell's voice came through.
The chieftain's mane was already turning a little gray, but his running posture was still agile. He passed through the wolf pack and was the first to appear in front of Garos. He knelt down and said, "I knew you would come back. The Howling Moon Clan awaits your return."
At the same time, the old shaman, supported by Frosttooth, walked out of the stone house and approached with faltering steps.
Galos looked at the old werewolf whose hair was almost entirely white and who had hardly any teeth left, and couldn't help but be slightly taken aback.
He remembered the first time he met the old shaman. Although the werewolf was old, he walked steadily and was full of energy. Now, however, he looked old and frail, as if he could die at any moment.
The past six years.
For dragons, it's just a fleeting moment, a period of slumber.
But for a species that only lives for fifty or sixty years, it is already a long period of time.
"You've become stronger."
The old shaman said respectfully, "One day, your dragon wings will cover the entire wilderness of Sel, making you an unparalleled dragon."
It broke free from Frostfang's support, its body trembling and its movements slow, as if it wanted to kneel down to express its loyalty.
Garus lowered his eyes to look at the old shaman, his huge dragon wings stretching out nimbly to block his body.
"No need to kneel."
He was blunt, saying, "You look like you're about to die."
"Thank you for your mercy." The old shaman squinted and said, "Werewolves have short lives, please understand."
After a pause, it said, "I can no longer serve you, but I have chosen a suitable successor. It is wise and will use its shamanic knowledge to serve you in my place. The Howling Moon Clan will follow you for generations to come."
Given the lifespan of dragons, if they don't die prematurely, or if the Howling Moon Clan isn't wiped out prematurely, they will continue to follow.
They will live under the dragon wings of Garros, where dozens of generations of their people will rise and fall.
The young shaman, the female werewolf Frostfang, showed no fear on her face; instead, she was filled with curiosity and awe towards the dragons, having been influenced by what she had seen and heard.
It knelt down in place of the elder.
It pressed its forehead deeply against Garus's claws, expressing its loyalty and awe.
"By the spirits of our ancestors, the Howling Moon Clan is willing to be the claws and fangs beneath the dragon's wings for generations to come. Your enemies will be torn apart by us, and your territory will be protected by us until the last cub breathes its last."
Galos nodded slightly: "I accept your loyalty. Get up."
Frosttooth stood up and carefully helped the old shaman up again.
Seeing the old shaman's appearance, Garus suddenly realized that although dragons are long-lived species, they are not immortal and will eventually reach the end of their lifespan.
Only after thousands of years has it become powerful enough.
Only by transforming life into immortal life can one break free from the shackles of lifespan.
This is also one of Galos's goals.
He didn't want to become like an old shaman one day.
Due to the unique physique of dragons, aging does not make them weaker; however, when dragons reach a certain age, they will inevitably enter a state of 'decline'.
Just like when dragons sleep, they become exceptionally tired.
Even a dragon in its twilight years feels a weariness that comes from the depths of its soul and longs to fall asleep. But if it does fall asleep in this state, it will never wake up again.
Eternal sleep is the normal death of a dragon.
It is worth mentioning that if the Primordial Dragon can resist the effects of the twilight period and fight against itself, it will continue to live until it becomes an Ancient Dragon, which will then break free from the twilight period, become an immortal being, embark on the path to immortality, and break free from the shackles of lifespan.
Each ancient dragon represents the pinnacle of existence.
Below the gods, there is no creature more powerful than the ancient dragon.
Every dragon aims to become an ancient dragon.
As for being on par with the Dragon God, that's too far off; even the proudest and most arrogant dragon wouldn't set such an unattainable goal.
Galos composed himself and glanced at the pack of wolves.
Frostfang's oath echoed in the air, and a sudden commotion arose among the wolf pack.
Manefire pushed aside the tribesmen blocking its way and, surrounded by several trusted confidants, strode to the center of the open space. Its red mane was particularly dazzling in the night, like a wildfire that refused to be extinguished.
"Lord Dragon Lord!"
Manefire raised his voice and said, "Now that you've returned, why not be my witness—"
It suddenly turned to Russell, baring its fangs: "I will challenge this old man's chieftainship!"
The commotion was even greater among the wolf pack.
The old shaman gripped his bone staff tightly with his claws, his knuckles turning white. Frostfang's ears perked up alertly, and the hair on his neck stood on end slightly.
Galos narrowed his eyes, calmly observing the unfamiliar young werewolf.
Although Manefire called himself the Dragon Lord, there was not much reverence in his eyes.
It walked up to me, but instead of kneeling down respectfully, it stood tall with its chest out and tail held high, maintaining a highly confident posture.
"No disrespect or insolence before the Dragon Lord! Manefire, kneel down!"
Russell's eyes flashed with anger as he spoke in a deep voice, then looked at Garros and said respectfully, "Please forgive this reckless werewolf. He is young and rude, and does not know respect or awe."
Manefire grinned and spoke on Garos's behalf: "The Dragon Lord won't care about these trivial matters."
"Russell, stop pretending. You're afraid to accept my challenge, are you? Then just admit defeat and hand over the chieftainship to me."
It bared its fangs, which gleamed with a cold light.
"Traditionally, the challenge needs to take place on the night of a full moon."
Russell glanced at Garros, and seeing that Garros didn't speak up to stop him, he then spoke.
"To hell with tradition!" Manefire interrupted rudely. "Don't you always say that the Dragon Lord's will is above all else?"
It turned to Garos, revealing an exaggerated smile: "Great Dragon Lord, you must also want to see who the real strongman is, right?"
It used an honorific title for Galos, but Galos still did not feel any awe from it.
and.
Trying to guess his thoughts directly and speaking on his behalf without thinking.
This displeased Galos.
Have you ever been a dragon? Don't just assume things like that.
Galos stared at the young werewolf.
He spoke slowly and deliberately, saying, "You mean, you are a true powerhouse?"
"certainly!"
Zong Huo straightened his chest and said.
That's incredibly arrogant.
A strongman? Galos rarely considered himself a strongman. He always believed himself to be weak and that he should not be arrogant or conceited. Therefore, he was able to deal with various events more cautiously and avoid risks.
Now, a tiny werewolf directly proclaims himself a strongman in front of Garus.
This made him feel both amused and puzzled.
Where does its confidence come from? It lacks the talents of dragons, yet possesses their arrogance?
Perhaps they have some kind of backing or confidence.
(End of this chapter)
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