Chapter 491 The Ignatius Tradition: Father Sees Son Still Alive (Long Chapter, Seeking Monthly Tickets)
Kingdom of Aura, High Mountain Dragon Court
Deborah, with her four young dragons, passed through the thick clouds, her wings cutting through the thin air, and landed steadily on the vast open ground covered with magical metal.
Many of the Bear Guards were already stationed here to guard the area.
Their figures are as majestic as moving hills, and their heavy armor gleams with a cold, hard luster.
Each of the bears kept its eyes fixed straight ahead, exuding the aura of a dragonborn.
These guards have generally undergone more than one dragon-forging ritual, and their muscle lines contain explosive power beyond that of ordinary creatures.
After the four baby dragons landed, they all began to look around in unison.
After seven years of growth, under the careful nurturing of the Fubo Dragon Domain, the little dragons have long since shed their initial immaturity.
Their scales became strong and thick, and their size increased significantly. In particular, the two red-scaled young dragons were over ten meters long and looked more like teenage dragons than seven-year-old cubs.
The other two, the silver dragon and the iron dragon, were slightly smaller, but still far exceeded the size expected of dragons of the same age.
"Is this Father's kingdom?"
The first red dragon to land took two steps on the metal platform, its dark red claws clicking as it moved.
He raised his head, his deep red eyes surveying his surroundings.
The gaze swept past the silent, statue-like Imperial Guards, past the distant, layered metal buildings, and finally settled on the most magnificent palace, perched atop the highest point.
"good."
He commented, "This size is barely worthy of a future world ruler."
He turned to look at his brothers and sisters who had just landed, and raised a front paw to indicate: "Listen, when you see Father later, show him some respect. After all, he is still the boss here. We are newcomers, so we can't be lacking in proper etiquette."
Upon hearing these words, Deborah hovered in the air for a moment before landing.
The crimson-silver dragon gracefully folded its wings, glanced at its eldest son, and a half-smile curled at the corner of its mouth.
Garclaw Ignas, that's the name of the red dragon.
As the eldest of the four brothers, who was the first to hatch, his personality is also the closest to that of a traditional red dragon.
Confident, proud, and with a deep-seated desire for dominance.
Beside Garkro, the Iron Dragon gracefully folded its wings.
Golden patterns flowed across her obsidian-like scales, like flashing lightning.
“My dear brother,” she said with a smile, her voice clear as a bell, “you are right. We should give our father enough respect, at least until he passes the throne to you.”
As she spoke, her gaze swept quickly across the entire platform, taking in the surrounding situation.
Ophelia Ignas, the second Iron Dragon to hatch.
She is adept at befriending other dragons in a harmless manner, but she enjoys stirring up trouble in secret, especially enjoying teasing her brother and encouraging him to do stupid things that are bound to cause trouble.
At the same time, the silver dragon with two faint streaks of light swaying behind its wings circled three times in the air before landing.
Her flight path was light and graceful, as if gliding through the air. She landed without making a sound, let out a long yawn, and her long, narrow, sword-like wings lazily clung to her sides.
"I'm a little sleepy..."
She whispered, her voice languid as if she had just woken up: "After flying for so long, I should get a good night's sleep."
She showed little interest in the magnificent buildings and rugged mountains around her, and even when she first came to her father's kingdom, she did not show much curiosity.
Silver dragon Isanora Ignas, the third to hatch.
She has the fastest speed among her siblings, but is lazy by nature and the smallest in size, yet her wingspan ratio is the most striking, and her dragon wing structure is also unique.
The last red dragon to land did not speak.
He stood at the edge of the platform, looking down at the sprawling Crimson Flame Royal City below. The red lotus-shaped patterns on the scales were faintly visible in the sunlight, rising and falling slightly with his breath.
He stared at the city's winding streets, his breathing growing heavier, a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Larria Ignath, the last red dragon to hatch.
He has the blood of a red dragon, but his personality is not irritable; instead, he tends to be more like the rational thinking of an iron dragon.
He is usually taciturn, but becomes talkative when the topic of the Dragon Kingdom comes up, and is an extreme dragon supremacist.
In his eyes, all non-dragon creatures, including hybrids and whelps, should bow down to the true dragon; this is the law of nature.
"Children, come with me."
Deborah's slightly tired voice came through.
It would be difficult for anyone to maintain a pleasant mood while traveling a long distance with four children of very different personalities and high energy levels.
The crimson-silver dragon turned and strode toward the main hall.
The four siblings looked around as they followed their mother into the royal court.
Passing through the towering archway, the interior space suddenly opens up.
The main hall was cast from magical metal, and its walls were inlaid with luminous crystals that illuminated every corner.
The dome is extremely high, large enough to allow a giant dragon to fly through it, and the ground is polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the light of the crystals above.
Then, they saw their father.
Galus Ignas stood in the center of the hall.
He was not seated on the throne at the highest step, yet he was more prominent than if he were seated on any throne.
Simply by standing there, he seemed to become the center of the entire space, with all the light, airflow, and even gazes naturally converging towards him.
The four young dragons stopped in their tracks simultaneously.
They both looked up at the same time, gazing up at that towering figure.
The red-iron dragon was even more majestic than his mother had described.
The scales, a blend of dark red and deep black, resembled metal forged through countless hammerings, shimmering with a cold, hard luster. Even when folded to the sides, the wings were wider and larger than those of other dragons of similar size, with the wing membranes resembling solidified energy. The spines on the back stood like a forest of swords and halberds, each one sharp and piercing.
Even when he stood still, the muscles bulging beneath his scales were clearly defined, as if cast from steel.
Strong, mighty, and domineering.
Even the most daring García felt an instinctive tremor at this moment.
That was the uncontrollable awe deep within the bloodline of lower-ranking dragons when facing legendary dragons.
This sense of oppression was intangible and weightless, yet it pressed heavily on the hearts of every young dragon. However, the thought that this dragon was their father greatly reduced the oppression.
On either side of the Red Emperor stood two other adult dragons.
On the left is the Iron Dragon Sorog, its deep black scales as steady as a mountain, its eyes calmly surveying the young dragons with scrutiny and assessment; on the right is the Red Dragon Samantha, its scales a bright, burning red, currently tilting its head with interest, a smile playing on its lips.
"Lord of the Kingdom of Aura, my respected father."
The last red baby dragon to hatch was the first to open its mouth.
Laria stepped forward, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement, the crimson lotus patterns glowing slightly with his movement.
“I am Laria Ignas, and I am so glad to have finally arrived in your kingdom.”
He said his gaze quickly swept over every detail of the hall, “Everything here intrigued me; the scale of the buildings, the discipline of the guards, the dragon-like aura in the air—it was all more awe-inspiring than my mother had described.”
He raised his head and looked directly into Galos's eyes.
"It is an incredible feat that you, as a red iron dragon, were able to establish such a kingdom in an era when the glory of dragons has faded."
“Father, I have the utmost respect for you.”
He paused, then continued, “I hope to have the opportunity to hear you tell me in person how you rose from humble beginnings to build the kingdom to its current size. I believe that would be an experience that all dragons should learn from.”
Sycophant!
He's usually quiet and reserved, but he's talking so much at this time!
Garclaw turned to look at his brother, his deep red eyes revealing undisguised contempt.
He flicked his tail, making a screeching sound as it scraped the ground.
Garros's dragon eyes turned to Laria, his gaze lingering for a moment on the crimson lotus patterns on his body.
He knew very well that those patterns were more than just decorations.
Then, he looked away and gazed down at the still tiny young dragon.
“Laria,”
The Red Emperor's voice was deep and thunderous, echoing throughout the hall.
"Are you interested in my founding process?"
“Yes.” Laria nodded, her pace quickening. “I’ve heard about the kingdom from my mother, but I thought it was just the tip of the iceberg. Now that I’m here, I’m even more convinced. Your kingdom has a very reasonable structure, with the dragons at its core and other races each fulfilling their roles. This is a perfect embodiment of the dragon supremacy.”
He tapped the ground lightly with his front paws and continued, "However, in my opinion, this system can be further optimized."
"The Kingdom of Aura should establish a clear pyramid system."
"Pure-blooded dragons are at the very top, enjoying the highest authority; then come the dragonborn who have undergone the dragon-forging ceremony, serving as middle-level managers; below them are wyverns and other dragon-blooded creatures; and at the very bottom are the non-dragon races."
"This ensures the stability of the rule and avoids the dilution of power caused by racial mixing..."
Upon hearing this, Iron Dragon Sorog glanced sideways.
His brother's son seems to have his own ideas about governing the country.
Regardless of whether these ideas are correct or feasible, the fact that one can have such thinking at this age already surpasses that of the vast majority of dragons.
"Laria".
Deborah interrupted the dragon's narration and gently touched the young dragon's back with her wing.
“Let the brothers and sisters introduce themselves first,” she said. “Father needs to know each and every one of you.”
Realizing her lapse in decorum, Laria immediately shut up, took a half-step back, and bowed her head in apology.
Aside from being somewhat extreme in his beliefs, he was otherwise a very good person and the ideal child for the Crimson Silver Dragon.
“I am Ophelia Ignas.”
Little Tielong obediently stepped forward.
Her dark eyes blinked, her gaze lingered on Galos for a moment, and then she gave a sweet, innocent smile.
“Father,” she began, her voice clear and sweet, “Mother often tells us stories about you, especially the one about pulling a satellite down from space. It was so amazing! I always feel so excited when I hear it!”
She went straight to the base of the red iron dragon's massive body and nestled fearlessly against his huge forepaws.
This gesture was bold yet natural, as if she had long been accustomed to such intimacy.
“Father, I am so happy.” Ophelia looked up at Galus with sparkling eyes. “You are more powerful and majestic than I imagined. It is my greatest honor to be your son.”
As she spoke, her tail swayed gently, her tone one of adoration.
"Isanora Ignas".
Little Silver Dragon announced his name in a flat, unadorned tone.
Then she asked, "Father, is there a place to sleep here? Preferably close to the restaurant, as I don't want to fly too far just to eat; that would be too energy-consuming."
Galos's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
"Yes," he answered simply.
"That's great." Yin Youlong nodded in satisfaction, walked directly to a thick pillar at the edge of the main hall, curled up, and closed his eyes. "Then I'll rest for a while. Just call me when it's time to eat. If I don't wake up, call me a few more times."
She almost instantly fell into a semi-sleep state, her breathing becoming long and steady.
Finally, Red Iron Dragon's gaze fell upon Garcro.
This young dragon was a size larger than its other blood relatives, with more defined muscles and an aura of fiery rage emanating from it.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling slightly, his deep red scales opening and closing with each breath, radiating a scorching heat.
For a moment, Garros seemed to see the shadow of the red dragon Gorsas in him.
"Galcro, my dear brother, why are you silent?"
Little Iron Dragon, nestled in his father's hand, tilted his head and asked innocently, "I remember you once said that you wanted to make a declaration to Father and let him know how powerful you are. Now is the perfect time."
The eldest son of the Red Dragon took a deep breath.
He straightened his chest, strode forward, his claws slamming heavily on the ground, each step exuding power.
When he was about ten meters away from Garros, he stopped, raised his large head, and stared directly at the legendary dragon with his deep red eyes without any hesitation.
“Galcro Ignas”.
He gave his full name in a loud voice, “Your most powerful descendant, you will be honored to have a descendant like me.”
After making this declarative opening statement, he changed the subject and asked, "My mother often says that you once pulled a magic satellite down from space. Is that true?"
Galos nodded slightly.
"It's true."
He answered.
"Amazing!" The red dragon chick excitedly swung its tail, sending sparks flying across the ground.
Then, his tone changed again: "However, I feel that you did not handle it thoroughly enough."
"If it were me, I would smash that thing into Theo's capital, crush the palace and the king into dust, and eliminate the threat forever."
He raised one of his front paws and made a gripping motion.
“Father, you are not decisive enough, nor ruthless enough. You are too merciful in dealing with your enemies.”
Little Iron Dragon gently tapped his father's claw scales.
She added in a low voice, "When my brother was in the Fubo Dragon Domain, he often said that when he inherited your kingdom, he would burn all the enemy countries to ruins. He said that was the proper way for a dragon to rule."
Galos raised his brow slightly.
Deborah covered her face with her claws and let out a silent sigh.
She knew this was bound to happen sooner or later.
Sorog's expression was somewhat amused, his gaze shifting back and forth between Garclaw and Galos.
Samantha then grinned, revealing her sharp teeth.
“Haha, that’s quite ambitious,” said Samantha, the red dragon, her voice full of admiration. “Galcro? Good boy, I admire your character. If you can really defeat your father, I will reward you with ten gems, which you can choose from my private collection. Even if you lose, as long as you show enough courage, I will still give you a gem as a gift.”
Garclaw nodded, his expression serious: "Prepare ten gems for me, I will come to collect them."
He paused, then added, "You're my... aunt, right? I've heard my mother talk about you. Very good, you have good taste. You truly are a clever and powerful red dragon."
Samantha laughed even louder, her wings trembling slightly from the sound.
Opposite the Red Dragon, Garoth remained silent for several seconds.
Does this little thing know what it's saying?
He wasn't angry.
Instead, a sense of great interest arose in my heart.
He looked at his eldest son as if he were observing something interesting new.
"Oh? Surpass me?"
The Red Emperor repeated, his voice rising slightly at the end.
"certainly!"
Garquero's tail curled up, a sign of the red dragon's excitement.
"This is not just possible, it's inevitable. My mother said that when you were my age, you were at level 7, while my life level is—"
His voice paused, drawing the attention of all the dragons.
"—I've reached level 8." He announced, his voice filled with undisguised pride, "I'm stronger than you were at the same age."
Iron Dragon Ophelia added at the opportune moment: "My brother has already defeated all his peers in the Fubo Dragon Domain. Even those young dragons are no match for him."
This statement is like adding fuel to the fire.
Two sparks shot out from Garclaw's nostrils, burning briefly in the air before going out.
He raised his head high, and all the scales on his neck stood up, making him look even more ferocious.
“That’s right! Father, if we were the same age, you definitely wouldn’t be a match for me.” He said bluntly, “This is not arrogance, but a judgment based on facts.”
"Stronger power, faster growth rate, and better combat talent."
"I have all the advantages that surpass yours."
He stomped his forepaws heavily on the ground, making a dull thud: "If you don't believe me, you can use Transfiguration to suppress your life level to be equal to mine, and then fight me. I guarantee I'll give you a surprise and let you know that what I said is true."
This young red dragon actually challenged the Red Emperor in front of all the other dragons.
Deborah finally couldn't hold back any longer: "Galcro, you—"
"It's alright."
Garos raised a front paw to stop the crimson silver dragon's rebuke.
The Red Emperor lowered his eyes and stared at the Red Dragon, his deep black eyes reflecting the proud and upright figure of Garkro.
His gaze toward his eldest son became complicated.
Three parts funny, three parts nostalgic, and four parts eager to try.
"I have experienced countless battles throughout my life."
Galos said calmly, "Those battles were never about fairness. Real battles only have winners and losers, no rules. I became stronger to crush my enemies, not to play games with them on equal footing."
He paused briefly, allowing the young dragon to process what he had said.
“However,” Galos continued, “you are my first offspring, and as your father, I am willing to give you a chance.”
"Want to challenge me? Sure."
He spread his wings, his movements slow yet powerful, fully extending his wing membranes, almost completely obscuring the young dragon's vision.
"Come with me."
After saying that, the red iron dragon turned around and flapped its wings.
He did not fly at full speed, but instead skimmed towards the outside of the palace at a steady pace, giving the young dragons time to catch up.
The other dragons immediately took action.
Deborah sighed and flapped her wings to follow.
Sorog and Samantha exchanged a glance and then took off. Isanora, the little silver dragon who had been taking a nap, found it unusually interesting. She opened her eyes, yawned, and stretched her wings to follow.
Nestled among the mountains, there is a specially cleared open space.
This is where Garus trains daily, and the surrounding mountains and ground are covered with various scars.
The Red Emperor landed at one end of the open space.
He turned and looked at the dragons that followed him.
Deborah, Sorog, and Samantha landed at the edge of the clearing, forming a natural observation area.
Yseramas, though the amethyst dragon did not appear, had secretly followed and was observing from the shadows, curious about the Red Emperor's offspring.
The four baby dragons landed at the other end of the open space, facing their father about 100 meters away.
"The rules are simple."
Galos spoke, and his voice echoed through the mountains.
"I used Transfiguration to control my level to be similar to yours."
"You can attack me by any means necessary—physical attacks, dragon breath, spell-like attacks, any tactics you can think of on the spot. I will not fight back; I will only defend and dodge."
"If you can leave a scratch on me, even just a slight scratch on the surface of my scales, you win."
As soon as he finished speaking, he began to activate his Transfiguration spell.
The massive, mountain-like dragon's body rapidly shrank, its bones emitting a soft but dense crackling sound, and the outlines of its muscles redistributed beneath its scales.
Within seconds, Garus's size became roughly the same as the red baby dragon, and his aura was suppressed to an extremely low level.
It is around level 8, which is equivalent to the level claimed by Garcello.
But some things cannot be completely hidden.
The depth in its eyes, the experience conveyed in its movements, and the exaggerated proportions of its body even after shrinking all prove that this is not a true level 8 baby dragon.
"A scratch?"
Garclaw felt his pride was stung, and his scales stood up in anger, their edges rubbing against each other with a rustling sound.
"Father, are you sure? I'm not an ordinary young dragon."
"In the Fubo Dragon Domain, I once defeated a seventeen-year-old boy named Jinlong in a head-on battle!"
"Two rounds then." Red Iron Dragon leisurely squatted down, its wings folded at its sides, its posture relaxed as if it were sunbathing. "Let's begin, let me see how much you can do."
"roar--!"
Without any hesitation, Garclaw launched a direct charge.
The dark red figure shot out like a cannonball, leaving a shallow indentation in the reinforced ground as its hind legs pushed off.
A blazing red light gathered on his forepaws; it was one of the spell-like abilities he had awakened at a young age: Blazing Claw Strike.
The air swirled around the claw tips, and the temperature rose sharply.
Thirty meters, twenty meters, ten meters...
The red dragon was moving faster and faster, its eyes fixed on its father.
He instinctively controlled the distance, angle, and speed to ensure that the blow would hit his chest squarely, or at least leave a mark if it didn't cause any damage.
Just before its claws were about to touch Garoth's chest, the Red Iron Dragon slightly turned its body to the side.
The amplitude was small, and the timing was precise.
Garclaw missed his target.
The scorching claws tore through the air, only to strike nothingness.
Because he exerted too much force and suddenly lost his target, his dragon rolled several times on the ground before barely stopping, raising a cloud of dust.
"Good speed."
"But a straight charge is too obvious. Any experienced enemy can predict the trajectory," Garros commented calmly.
Garclaw got up, shook the dust off his head, and grinned.
His initial failure did not discourage him; instead, it fueled his fighting spirit.
An orange-red light shone from deep within his throat.
Dragon's Breath!
Blazing flames erupted, spreading out in a fan shape and covering a large area.
Garclaw turned his neck, letting his dragon breath sweep across all directions his father might dodge.
However, the flames only landed on the open ground.
Garus flapped its wings and ascended vertically just before the dragon's breath touched it, then hovered at a safe height above the range of flames.
His movements were concise and efficient, with no unnecessary waste.
The red dragon raised its head and continued to spew dragon breath, trying to corner its father, but Garros simply moved nimbly in the air, barely avoiding the edge of the flames each time, as if playing a game.
"hateful!"
Garclaw's throat began to hurt.
He stopped breathing, gasping for breath, his chest heaving violently.
Without hesitation, he lunged at his father in mid-air once more.
This time he was smarter. Instead of charging straight ahead, he quickly changed direction on the ground, creating feints to try and disrupt his father's prediction.
Claw strikes, tail sweeps, ramming attacks, and even attempts to slash with the edges of the wings, interspersed with sporadic spell-like attacks.
Garclaw unleashed all the knowledge he had acquired over the past seven years, launching a relentless offensive like a storm.
However, every attack ended in failure.
Galos didn't use any fancy tricks.
He simply turned to the side, raised his hand, tilted his head, and made small movements to deflect all attacks. Sometimes he didn't even move, but just adjusted his body angle to let the attacks slide off the surface of his scales.
The key point is that he didn't show much speed or explosiveness.
He relied entirely on his extensive combat experience to anticipate all of the little red dragon's attack intentions, and then made minimal adjustments at the last moment.
After a while, Galkro stopped, panting.
He was covered in dust, some of his scales were burning from the intense friction, and his throat was burning from overuse of dragon breath.
In contrast, even though Garos suppressed his level and shrunk his size, his scales remained clean and new, without any signs of battle, and even his breathing was as steady as ever.
Among the onlookers.
“Father is… playing a trick on Garcro.” Little Iron Dragon Ophelia sighed, but there was a hint of schadenfreude in her tone. “Alas, my poor brother, he thinks he is challenging Father, but he is just putting on a farce.”
"Isn't this what you wanted to see?"
The little silver dragon Isanora tilted her head, her eyes half-open and half-closed, "You were just encouraging him."
"Hey, hey, hey, I see through you but I won't say it." Ophelia snorted, her black eyes turning to the silver dragon. "Otherwise, you'll have to be careful not to get woken up by me every time you sleep. Do you know how many ways I can think of to keep you from sleeping?"
"Okay, okay, I'm so scared."
Isanora shook her head, deciding not to argue with this troublesome sister.
She curled up a little more, burying her head under her wings, leaving only one eye showing as she continued to watch.
On the other side, Laria stared intently at the battle, saying nothing, simply observing the techniques her father displayed, trying to memorize them.
In the center of the open space, Garcillo's chest heaved violently.
Sweat seeped from the gaps in his scales, instantly evaporating into white vapor from the high temperature on his body. He stared at his father, his deep red eyes burning with resentment.
That's it?
He suddenly spoke, his voice broken by his panting, "Father, is all you can do is dodge? Do you dare to stay where you are and take a real attack from me? If you don't even dare to face me head-on, then what's the point of this contest?"
In a moment of inspiration, he used a provocation tactic.
Although simple, it is often effective against proud dragons.
Galos narrowed his eyes slightly.
He slowly descended from the air, stood back on the ground, his wings fully folded, and his forepaws rested steadily in front of him.
“Fine,” he said. “Use your strongest move, and I’ll stand here and stop dodging.”
Garclaw took a deep breath, suppressing his inner elation.
He took a few steps back to create some distance.
Then, he began to gather his strength.
The crimson scales grew even darker, almost black, and the thorns on his back stood up, their tips glowing red. The surrounding air was violently distorted by the high temperature, and the dust on the ground began to move on its own without wind, forming a small vortex around him.
Three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds...
Garclaw opened his mouth to its limit, and his jaw made a slight cracking sound.
Deep in his throat, a crimson light shone and rapidly expanded.
That was no ordinary dragon breath light; it was more concentrated and deeper, like a volcano about to erupt.
This seven-year-old dragon is compressing its dragon breath, transforming it into a more deadly form.
call!
A fist-sized, deep red fireball shot out from Garclaw's mouth.
Its speed was not fast, even somewhat slow, but wherever it passed, the air was clearly distorted and layered due to the extreme high temperature.
The fireball had an almost white light in the center, surrounded by layers of deep red, and trailed a thin stream of energy at its tail.
This is no ordinary fireball, but a highly compressed essence of dragon breath. Its power is often stronger than continuously exhaled dragon breath, and it is a decisive move for many red dragons at crucial moments.
Garrosh's combat talent is indeed remarkable, as he mastered the technique of compressing dragon breath even as a young dragon.
The fireball flew straight toward Garus.
Red Iron Dragon does not dodge.
His right wing rose, the wing membrane fully extended, and then he pressed down slightly, at a perfect angle, to meet the incoming dragon breath fireball.
There was no explosion at the moment of impact.
When the fireball touched the wing membrane slope, it was like water encountering a reef, its direction was cleverly changed, and it drew an upward arc along the wing surface, its trajectory completely deflected.
Whoosh!
The dragon's breath fireball flew over Garus's head, continued to rise, and exploded in the air at a height of about fifty meters.
Boom!
A spectacular burst of sparks erupted like fireworks, and shockwaves spread outwards, causing dust to fall from the surrounding mountains. The firelight illuminated the entire open space and shimmered in the eyes of every dragon.
Garclaw stared blankly at the scene.
My mind went completely blank.
His strongest attack, a compressed dragon breath that he had prepared for a full ten seconds, was just... deflected by the slanted surface of a wing?
He didn't even see how much effort his father used.
The movement was so casual, as if he were just waving away a fallen leaf.
"The energy compression is quite good," Galos commented calmly. "If it hits an opponent of the same level head-on, it can indeed be decisive, or even cause serious injury to an opponent of a higher level."
He lowered his wings and stood up straight again.
“However, the preparation time is too long,” Galos continued. “In actual combat, no enemy will wait for you to breathe for ten seconds, and the trajectory is too simple, flying in a straight line, making it too easy to predict and counter.”
He walked steadily toward his son, who stood frozen in place.
Even after shrinking, Red Iron Dragon was still slightly larger than Garclaw, and its shadow gradually enveloped him.
“Galo, you have great potential.” Garros looked down at the young and ambitious red dragon. “But you need to understand one thing: in this world, there will always be beings stronger than you. Confidence is a good thing; it can drive you forward. But arrogance is foolish; it will blind you and prevent you from seeing the real gap.”
Garclaw did not hear his father's words clearly.
He stared blankly at the gradually dissipating sparks in the sky, feeling as if all the blood in his body had rushed to his head, the veins under his scales throbbing, and his ears ringing.
shame!
An unprecedented disgrace!
He was invincible among his peers in the Fubo Dragon Domain, and could even challenge young golden dragons of higher levels. But today, he couldn't even touch a single scale that his father had suppressed to the same level? He couldn't even leave a scratch?
All the gazes around him were like needles pricking his pride.
"I haven't lost yet!"
Just as the Red Iron Dragon took a step closer, and was only five meters away, Garclaw roared from his throat.
That was a scream, a pure outburst of emotion.
He pushed off the ground with his hind legs, using all his strength to unleash unprecedented speed.
This time, he didn't use his claws, his teeth, or his dragon breath. Instead, he used his hardest shoulder blades and head to smash into Garos like a battering ram.
This was a brute force attack driven by irrationality, devoid of any skill, a desperate strike purely fueled by rage.
Garus frowned slightly at the scales on his forehead.
Just as Garquero was about to crash into it, the Red Iron Dragon's tail moved.
The tip of its tail, like the tip of a whip, drew a short arc in the air and struck the joint of Garcroco's forepaws as it landed.
"Waaah!"
Garclaw's charging posture instantly changed.
The intense pain and loss of balance from his front paws caused him to lose control, and the entire dragon tilted to one side.
He tried to adjust his balance, but it was too late.
A dragon claw covered in dark red and jet-black scales descended.
The claw wasn't huge; under the effect of the Transformation spell, it was about the same size as Garrosh's claw. However, the timing, angle, and speed of its descent were perfect, like an iron clamp, firmly gripping the red dragon's neck.
"Ugh!"
The feeling of suffocation and the creaking sound of pressure on the neck bones came at the same time.
Garquero lifted off the ground with all four claws off the ground, and was held up by Red Iron Dragon Father with one claw.
His body hung in the air, struggling in vain, his claws scratching wildly at his father's arm, his tail lashing violently at the air.
He even tried to condense flames again, but with his neck restrained and breathing difficult, all his strength quickly dissipated, and the spark that had just appeared went out.
His pride in his strength seemed laughable under the claws of the red iron dragon.
The claws weren't even using their full strength; he could feel that his father was simply holding on steadily, with his knuckles not even fully clenched.
But it was precisely this ease and control that made Galcroir feel even more desperate.
“Failure is not terrible,” Galos said calmly, his voice close to Galos’s.
Those deep black eyes looked down at his son from close range. The previous interest had vanished, replaced by indifference and scrutiny. "What's terrible is being unable to accept failure, becoming hysterical, losing your mind. That's more pathetic than failure itself."
"Let...let go!"
Garclaw struggled and managed to squeeze out a roar through his teeth.
The pressure on his neck distorted his voice, making it tremble with pain.
Hong Tielong did not let go.
He didn't even respond, just stared silently at the baby dragon in his claws; this silence was more terrifying than any rebuke.
“You seem to still be unconvinced,” Galos finally spoke.
"I... refuse to accept this!" Garclaw hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes burning with an unyielding defiance. "You... are just... a few years older than me... wait until I... grow up..."
"You won't live to see that day. Since you're not convinced, then die."
Hong Tielong's words shattered his illusions.
Then, the claws gripping the neck began to steadily increase their pressure.
Its slow, steady, and irresistible pressure increases with each second, like a hydraulic clamp gradually closing.
Click...clunk...
A clear sound of bone cracking rang out.
Garclaw's eyes widened instantly, his bloodshot eyeballs almost bulging out of their sockets. A sharp pain swept through his entire body from his neck, a suffocating feeling made his lungs burn, and the edges of his vision began to darken.
But what's more terrifying than physical pain is the feeling of life slipping away so quickly.
He could clearly feel his life force draining away, like grains of sand in an hourglass falling irrevocably.
The heart was pounding, trying to pump blood, but the carotid artery in the neck was compressed, preventing blood from flowing smoothly. The brain began to lack oxygen, and thinking became sluggish.
die.
This word has arrived in such a real way for the first time.
His frantic struggles turned into limp convulsions, his claws drooped limply, leaving only a few shallow marks on his father's arm armor, and his tail remained stiff and motionless, its tip trembling slightly.
"Father, Father, you."
Faced with death, he finally felt fear.
A deep-seated, bone-chilling fear.
He began to beg for mercy, but after only a few words, he could only let out a hoarse, leaky sound.
Garclaw shifted his gaze, trying to look at his mother.
He wanted to call for help, to see his mother stop the execution, but his vision quickly darkened, his father's majestic face blurred, Deborah's figure became indistinct, and the whole world seemed to be drifting away from him.
Fear, an unprecedented fear, gripped his heart.
So this is what death is like...
Cold, dark, powerless, everything was beyond saving...
No... I don't want to die yet.
A last, faint thought flashed through my mind, and then I began to lose even the ability to think.
"Wait, Father."
Two voices rang out at the same time.
The silver dragon Isanora had already stood up, her wings spread, and her usually lazy eyes were now fully open.
“Galcroze was wrong, but he doesn’t deserve to die; he was just a bit arrogant,” she said. “Please forgive him this time.”
On the other side, the red dragon Laria also stepped forward.
Instead of pleading directly like his sister, he took a different approach: "Father, my brother is indeed arrogant and ignorant, but his courage to challenge the strong is something that should be preserved. If we stifle it now, it will be a loss to the future of the kingdom."
Garclaw could no longer hear what he was saying.
His consciousness sank in the darkness, leaving only a last, vague sense of awareness.
Click!
A clear sound of the neck bone breaking rang out.
The red iron dragon released its claws.
Garclaw's body slumped to the ground like a lump of mud, his head tilted to one side at an extremely unnatural angle, his deep red eyes losing all their luster and becoming empty and lifeless.
He made no movement, showed no signs of breathing, and even the rise and fall of his chest stopped.
The surroundings became deathly silent.
The smile on Ophelia's face had completely vanished; his black eyes were wide open, and his body was trembling slightly.
She never expected it to turn out this way.
The father's movements were as fast as lightning, while the elder brother's fall was so heavy.
The snapping sound seemed to still echo in her ears, making the muscles beneath her scales tense up. She even forgot to breathe until her chest tightened, at which point she took a rapid breath.
The little silver dragon Isanora's narrow silver eyes were filled with astonishment. She subconsciously raised one of her front paws, but then froze in mid-air.
Laria took a half step back, the red lotus patterns on her scales flickering intermittently.
Samantha raised an eyebrow, while Sorog looked at Garros thoughtfully.
On the other side, Deborah shook her head slightly and said nothing.
Garros looked down at the corpse of the red dragon, his face expressionless. His long shadow trailed on the ground, enveloping most of Garros's body.
The next second, something unexpected happened.
On Garkro's lifeless body, a dazzling light suddenly shone from the gaps in the dragon scales on his left chest.
The light was not dazzling, but exceptionally clear, shining through the deep red scales like a heart beating inside, with a steady rhythm. The light extended rapidly from the left chest, spreading along the blood vessels to the neck, limbs, and tail tip, enveloping his entire body in a halo.
The light quickly extended and enveloped his body.
At the twisted neck, flesh and bone grew and healed with a crackling sound, quickly reconnecting.
"Hoh—!"
The red dragon lying on the ground suddenly took a deep breath, its chest heaving violently, as if a drowning person had finally surfaced.
His tightly closed eyes suddenly opened, still revealing deep red vertical pupils, but the lingering arrogance within them was replaced by a sense of lingering fear, and his pupils were still trembling slightly.
He survived.
Unsteady, Garcrocodile used its forelimbs to support its body and tried to stand up, but its legs gave way and it stumbled, its front paws leaving several messy grooves on the ground.
He steadied himself, instinctively raised his paw, and touched his unharmed neck, his eyes blank, as if he couldn't understand what had happened.
Then he looked at his father.
This time, there was a clear sense of awe in the young red dragon's eyes.
Galos looked down at him, as if he had expected all of this.
In fact, he had already seen that there was a dragon jade of the same origin as himself in the chest of his eldest son.
“Dragon Jade,” Garos said, “one of my talents was passed down to you in the form of a bloodline blessing. It can give you a chance to be reborn when you are infinitely close to death.”
He paused, then took a step forward.
The shadow fell over Garkro once more, and the young dragon involuntarily shrank its neck.
"But remember this: if I can kill you once, I can kill you a hundred times, a thousand times."
“You are alive, and you are of a higher rank than I was at the same age, only because you inherited my bloodline and enjoyed my protection,” Garus continued. “Without these, what would you be? An ordinary red dragon cub. With your arrogance and ignorance, you would probably have died in the wilderness or become food for other predators long ago.”
Garclaw stood there, stunned.
His father did kill him once.
Without hesitation, decisively and cleanly, he didn't even have time to react.
He survived not because of his strength or his strong will, but simply because he was fortunate enough to inherit this blessing.
What if there's no Dragon Jade?
The thought sent chills down his spine.
The helplessness of life slipping away, the despair of consciousness sinking into darkness... those feelings instantly overwhelmed his senses once again.
He lowered his head, no longer daring to look his father in the eye.
"Raise your head and look me straight in the eye."
A dignified voice came from in front of him.
The young red dragon shuddered and timidly raised its head, meeting those deep black eyes.
“Garcro, if you lack reverence for the strong and for life, then die now. I can kill you again so that you won’t die a lowly death at the hands of other strong people and disgrace my bloodline.”
Galos asked, "Now, answer me, do you want to live, or do you want to die?"
The red dragon opened its mouth, its throat dry.
He couldn't utter a single word of those grand pronouncements he had made before.
His tongue froze in his mouth, his teeth chattered slightly, and finally, he lowered his head, which had always been held high.
“Live…live, Father, I want to live.”
The voice was weak, trembling with the shock of someone who had survived a disaster.
On the open ground, a mountain breeze blew, stirring up a wisp of dust, and a few withered leaves swirled among the young dragons.
Galos nodded slightly, finally withdrawing his oppressive gaze.
He turned aside and glanced at his other sons, noticing that the shock in their eyes had not yet subsided.
"Remember this feeling."
He said, "Then, with it, continue to grow stronger. I don't need descendants who only know how to talk big; I need dragons that can survive and support this territory."
Garquero slowly stood up from the ground, flicked his tail, and regained his flexibility.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his still wildly beating heart.
“I understand what you mean, Father. Thank you for your teachings.”
He said that it looked much more docile, and even the wagging of its tail had become less pronounced.
"Hey, here's a gem. Catch it. It's a reward for your ambition."
Samantha broke the tense atmosphere with a cheerful laugh.
With a flick of her forepaw, a deep red gem the size of a pigeon's egg flew in an arc.
The young red dragon quickly caught it, carefully bit it with its teeth, and after confirming its hardness, hid it under the scales on the side of its neck as if it had found a treasure.
Upon receiving the gem, his previous negative emotions vanished instantly, his eyes lit up again, and his mood visibly improved.
Being dragons, their love of treasure can almost dispel all gloom.
Galos witnessed all of this but did not stop it.
He asked slowly, "What have you figured out?"
The young red dragon pondered for a few seconds before replying, "Until I truly become stronger than you, I will not attempt to challenge you, nor will I defy your will."
Upon hearing this, Galos's claws started itching again.
This kid still doesn't fully understand.
However, too much of a good thing can be bad. There is no need to rush the education of one's offspring. The seeds have already been sown and need time to take root and sprout.
Immediately afterwards, Galos strode toward the little iron dragon.
When Ophelia saw him approaching, she instinctively shrank back, but then forced herself to stand still, though her eyes darted around.
He asked, "Ophelia, why didn't you stop me just now? You could at least have begged for your own blood relatives."
Little Iron Dragon said timidly, "I...I didn't expect it to turn out like this...I'm stunned..."
“Then,” Galos pressed, his gaze fixed on her with an almost tangible intensity, “if your brother were to die today, would you feel happy or pained?”
Ophelia dared not meet her father's gaze, lowered her head, stared at her own paws, and spoke even softer.
"Pain...pain."
“I didn’t actually want to see my brother get into trouble. I just wanted to tease him. I never thought it would turn out like this.”
She was telling the truth.
The fun of playing pranks lies in controlling the situation and enjoying the other person's embarrassed reaction, not in actually wanting to cause a tragedy. She didn't want to see a tragedy happen to her own blood relatives.
The fear I felt just now was real.
If García really dies, she will be one of the accomplices and will feel immense regret for it.
Hong Tielong said in a deep voice, "You may have good intelligence, but the wise are always defeated by their own arrogance."
He raised one of his front paws and gently tapped the little iron dragon's forehead.
"You cannot predict the changes in the world; this is something even gods cannot do."
"You can use your intelligence to trick your own blood relatives, but you must know your limits, because you cannot bear the consequences of making mistakes. Today your brother has the Dragon Jade protecting him, but what about next time? If it were someone else, or even yourself, would you have a second chance?"
Ophelia was silent for a moment, her small head drooping even lower.
"I...I understand."
She answered softly.
Finally, Garros looked around, his gaze sweeping over each of the young dragons.
They were all different in appearance, but their eyes all reflected his image.
"The Kingdom of Aura belongs to me, and it will also belong to you."
"But whatever your heritage may contain, how much it may be about betrayal, selfishness, and solitude, remember, in my hands, bloodline comes first."
He spoke slowly, his voice carrying through the mountains.
"Respect your parents, elders, and brothers and sisters."
"You can compete and rival each other, but the bottom line is each other's lives and dignity."
"Fight for yourselves, and fight for them. If you can't even trust your own blood relatives, who can you trust? And who can you expect to stand behind you in times of crisis?"
The legacy of dragons is filled with arrogance, betrayal, and distrust. These are the experiences of the dragon ancestors who survived in a cruel environment, but they have also become shackles that bind the race.
Galus wanted to teach his descendants to fight against their nature, to know reverence, and to understand the power of unity.
He didn't want to be betrayed by his own descendants one day, or to watch helplessly as they killed each other and destroyed the foundation he had worked so hard to build.
Raising offspring well is not something that can be done overnight, especially the offspring of evil dragons. They are born proud and self-centered, and these offspring are also exceptionally talented and have amazing potential, making them more prone to arrogance.
However, Galos had plenty of patience.
His life was long, and education itself is like polishing jade; it cannot be rushed or done carelessly.
The mountain wind gradually picked up, stirring the grass at the bottom of the valley and also the scales of the young dragons.
They listened quietly, some lost in thought, some with flickering eyes, and some still carrying lingering fear.
Garquero would occasionally raise its paw to touch its neck, as if to confirm that it had truly healed.
He knew he was different, but he never imagined that he could be resurrected, inheriting his father's talent, which was incredibly strong.
The little iron dragon hesitated for a moment beside him, then gently touched his hind leg with the tip of its tail.
Red Dragon glanced at her, said nothing, but didn't move away either.
As Galos looked at them, he had a premonition that the time before he fell into slumber would probably be quite fulfilling and interesting.
P.S.: Double the monthly votes requested!
(End of this chapter)
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