Translator: AnubisTL
Ironwood trees stood tall and dense, their canopy filtering the midday sun into dappled patterns across the Red Iron Young Dragon's scales.
"My lord, subduing the Earthstorm Bear clan will allow you to establish your foothold in the Sierre Wilderness more quickly," Mobel rumbled in his gruff voice.
Garos scrutinized the fawning bear before him, his tail tapping thoughtfully against the ground.
Mobel's proposal, while seemingly loyal, was driven by self-interest. It wants me to eliminate the old Tyrant Bear so it can seize power and become the new leader of the bear clan.
After all, Mobel had not undergone dragon blood transformation.
The loyalty of such familiars was tied to their own interests.
Garos, however, didn't mind.
Sometimes, familiars with selfish desires were easier to control. Those without any ambition, on the other hand, were more likely to betray.
Besides, all intelligent creatures have their own ambitions and seek to advance their own interests.
Garos could accept Mobel's little schemes.
The bear had chosen to follow him and hadn't fled while Garos was away, indicating it believed following the young dragon offered a brighter future and greater prospects.
However, a firm hand was necessary.
The raging bear before him appeared simple and honest, with a guileless face. In reality, he was cunning and intelligent—far smarter than his dragon siblings.
"You are my first familiar. Once I subdue the bear clan, I will entrust them all to your management."
Garos smiled enigmatically as he spoke words that made Mobel's face light up with joy.
"Thank you for your trust, Dragon Lord! I will ensure their loyalty and live up to your expectations!"
The raging bear's eyes shone as he thumped his chest with a resounding thump-thump.
"But."
Garos suddenly changed his tone, his gaze turning icy and his voice deepening. "If you want management rights, I can grant them to you. However, you must also bear the corresponding responsibilities."
"If the bear clan shows even a hint of defiance or betrayal toward me, I will break your legs first."
Mobel's ears twitched, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes.
"Uh... Great Dragon Lord, I suddenly don't want to be the bear clan leader anymore. Once you've subdued them, I can just be their equal."
Mobel scratched his head, his bear-like face looking sheepish.
"The bear clan still needs a leader. I've decided it's you. This isn't up for discussion."
Garos made his decision final.
Mobel's face twisted into a grimace, torn between the fear of failing and the ambition to lead the bear clan.
Years ago, when he was caught secretly courting a female bear, his father beat him nearly to death and discarded him like trash. At that moment, he swore to reclaim what was lost and dominate all the female bears.
Ten years in the East, ten years in the West—don't underestimate a young bear's poverty!
Ambition ultimately overshadowed his fear.
"I thank you for your trust. This will be my honor," Mobel said, lowering his head in a low voice.
As the sun slowly set behind the distant mountains, night fell, replacing the hazy twilight with an endless, star-studded sky.
In the thick darkness, the Red Iron Young Dragon stretched its wings among the high clouds, soaring through the air. The wind whistled through its massive, powerful wings, rustling loudly with each beat.
Soon after.
Garos hovered above the mountain range, gazing down.
The slopes below were densely covered with coniferous forests, the fir trees thick and lush. The range itself was low-lying, not particularly towering.
This was the bear clan's territory.
Garos circled the sky, his gaze sweeping inch by inch across the slopes and forests. He quickly spotted an unnatural clearing at the foot of the mountains, along with numerous dark, cavernous holes—the bear clan's dens.
Though it was late at night, the bears were not resting in their dens.
Bears resembling Mobel were gathered in the clearing before the caves.
Some were rubbing against the rocks to scratch an itch, others dozed on the ground, sharpening their teeth on sharp stones. Four or five bear cubs chased each other, their short legs churning.
Among these raging bears,
one stood out for its extraordinary size and strength.
Its shoulder height exceeded ten meters, its bear arms thick and muscular, its waist broad and round, like a small mountain in bear form. Even when sitting, it radiated an aura of danger.
In terms of size, this raging bear far surpassed Garos.
Moreover, its fur was unlike that of an ordinary Earthstorm Bear. In addition to the deep yellow, rock-like fur, it was interspersed with dark red strands that swayed like flames in the wind.
This raging bear seemed to possess both earth and fire attributes.
Its identity was unmistakable—it was the Tyrant Bear Chieftain.
Life Level Detection Technique!
A faint glow flickered in Garos's black dragon eyes as he focused on the Tyrant Bear Chieftain.
Life Level: 10
At the same time, the level 10 Tyrant Bear Chieftain seemed to sense something. It suddenly raised its head and gazed at the night sky, its eyes piercing through the cloud cover to lock onto Garos with precision.
ROAR!
The chieftain rose to its feet, its massive body swelling as its fur bristled, making it appear even more formidable. It threw its head back and let out a thunderous roar that rumbled like distant thunder.
It had detected the presence of the Red Iron Young Dragon.
As the roar echoed, the bear cubs, as if receiving a signal, scurried back into their den under their mother's protection.
The entire bear clan tensed, on high alert.
"A level 10 Tyrant Bear Chieftain—its senses are far sharper than any demonic beast I've encountered before," Garos thought as he circled in the sky, gazing down at the bear clan below while weighing his options.
So far, the highest-level ferocious beast or demonic beast Garos had ever slain was level 8.
Among them were both weak and strong. The weak couldn't withstand a single strike from Garos, while the strong could briefly entangle him, leaving minor wounds on his body.
Above these were the 9th and 10th-tier ferocious beasts and demonic beasts.
Garos had never encountered these.
While life grade couldn't fully measure combat power, it served as a valuable reference.
On average, each increase in life grade brought a significant leap in power. Lower-grade creatures weren't necessarily weak, but those with higher grades were undeniably formidable, with their strength increasing with their life grade.
10th-tier. This was the average level of a 25-year-old adolescent red dragon.
Of course, a 10th-tier red dragon was far stronger than an Earthstorm Bear. However, this comparable level to an adolescent red dragon indicated that the Tyrant Bear Chieftain was a formidable demonic beast.
Garos wasn't entirely confident in his ability to defeat the 10th-tier Tyrant Bear Chieftain.
In a direct confrontation, he might eventually win.
But injuries would be unavoidable, and they could be severe.
In fact, severe wounds could stimulate Garos's adaptive evolution, but the risks were too high. Without the protection of his patron and with no retreat, a serious injury could leave him vulnerable to stronger enemies, putting him in extreme danger.
The Sierre Wilderness was fraught with danger.
Demonic beasts and ferocious beasts roamed in abundance, as did the armies of the Lothurn Federation stationed across its lands.
Even unintelligent wild animals knew to avoid injury during a hunt.
Compared to fleeting thrills and risks, Garos prioritized steady growth and longevity. As a seven-year-old young dragon with exceptional talent and a bright future, he saw no need to rush.
"Now isn't the right time. I might not win for sure."
"I'll wait a little longer. I'm close to breaking through to level 8."
Garos didn't linger.
With a flap of his dragon wings, he vanished into the night.
Watching the dragonkind's retreating figure, the Tyrant Bear Chieftain withdrew its gaze.
There was not a trace of tension or worry on its bear-like face. Instead of returning to its den, it simply sprawled out in the clearing ahead and dozed off, completely relaxed.
Judging by Garos's size, he was merely a small young dragon.
The chieftain feared neither juvenile dragons nor even adult ones. If a mere hatchling dared to cause trouble here, it would take just a single paw swipe to deal with him. If the little one was suicidal, the chieftain wouldn't mind tasting dragon meat to see how it was seasoned.
(End of the Chapter)
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