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Translator: AnubisTL
As night fell like ink, the oppressive atmosphere in Dragon Valley gradually dissipated.
The frost covering the land silently receded, frozen flowers and grasses unfurled anew, and startled small animals shook off ice shards and fled in panic.
Not a single leaf had withered from the frost. Neither flora nor fauna had suffered harm under the silver dragon's wrath.
The red-iron dragon's pupils narrowed slightly.
This wasn't a sign of insufficient power, but rather proof of Frostmark's near-perfect mastery over ice magic.
As a Lawful Good dragon, he adhered to his principles even in a rage, sparing even the smallest life.
Only Garos, the primary target, had endured soul-piercing cold. The backlash from shattering the ice crystals left his Cold Exploding Scales riddled with cracks.
He's likely not just a mature dragon of two hundred years old. His life grade might be 19, not 18.
If a Tier 9 silver dragon had ambitions for dominance, the Frontierlands would have long been devoid of the Four Great Tribes, their survival dependent solely on dragon breath.
Fortunately, my ice resistance is no longer a weakness. If I were an ordinary young red dragon, I would have been critically injured just now.
Garos secretly rejoiced while pondering the flaws of his Cold Exploding Scales.
It relies on absorbing heat rather than creating cold from nothing.
This meant that fire-type attacks could help him accumulate thermal energy, but pure, extreme cold and ultra-low-temperature attacks devoid of heat could counteract his heat absorption.
The path to evolution is long and arduous. My Cold Exploding Scales are far from perfect, with flaws and weaknesses still present.
How long will it take for the flawless, ultimate dragon to reach this stage?
Garos mused silently.
Meanwhile, Frostmark Edri folded his wings and hovered in mid-air, lowering his head. His silver eyes swirled with scrutiny. "Bring order to the Frontierlands? Red Iron Brat, do you even know how much blood and death stains this land?"
"Order isn't something you can simply declare with words."
Garos didn't refute the silver dragon's words. Instead, he replied earnestly, "Precisely because of that, I choose to act."
After a brief pause, the red-iron dragon lifted his head slightly, his expression calm yet revealing a hint of ambition. "How can those insect-like creatures ever govern the Frontierlands properly?"
"Only by sweeping them all away and becoming King of the Frontierlands can I bring order to this place and end the chaos and conflict."
Merely talking about order sounded hollow and pretentious, bordering on hypocrisy.
At this moment, revealing a hint of ambition would only make him seem more genuine.
"King of the Crossroads?" Edri's eyes narrowed slightly. "Red Iron Brat, you certainly have a big mouth. I dwell in the Frontierlands and am as much a part of this place as you are. And you want to be its king—"
A cold sneer escaped from between the silver dragon's fangs. "—You mean you expect me to bow down and pledge allegiance to you?!"
The misunderstanding had been cleared up.
But the thought of Deborah's deception, and the way she had stood protectively in front of this red-iron dragon, still stirred Edri's anger.
This wasn't the rage of a metallic dragon toward an evil dragon, but the fury of a father seeing his cherished child turn against him for the sake of another dragon.
Even if the other dragon had been a metallic one, Edri would still be furious.
He wasn't some foolish White Scale; he was the noble and wise silver dragon, Frostmark Edri.
Edri's sharp gaze easily discerned that the red-silver dragon had already fallen for this red-iron dragon. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been sneaking around behind his back or standing in his way.
He recalled Deborah's former obedient and sensible demeanor, then looked at her current guarded posture.
Endure for a moment, and the anger only grows stronger.
Take a step back, and the fury consumes the heart.
The silver dragon felt as if a fire were burning in his chest.
As a lawful dragon, the silver dragon adhered strictly to his principles, refusing to attack juvenile dragons without a legitimate reason or to bully the weak.
Thus, the silver dragon was deliberately provoking a confrontation.
He wanted to goad the red-iron dragon into revealing his arrogant, evil dragon nature, hoping the juvenile would hurl insults that would justify a brutal beating.
Under the silver dragon's icy gaze, Garos sensed his hostility.
Having a deep understanding of dragon nature, Garos could roughly guess the silver dragon's intentions.
"I'm willing to relinquish my claim to the title of King of the Crossroads," the red-iron dragon said with a slight smile, his tone magnanimous and carefree. "I believe the metallic dragons can bring order to this place. In time, I only ask for a small corner of territory where I can dwell."
It was like throwing a heavy punch into a cloud of cotton candy.
The silver dragon's eye twitched. He exhaled a long, turbid breath before saying, "I have no interest in governing territory."
Both gold and silver dragons valued order, but they lacked the aptitude for territorial administration and were ill-suited for handling trivial matters. As a result, they preferred to serve as guardians of order rather than its creators or enforcers.
"Red Iron Brat, if you want to become King of the Crossroads and bring order to this place, go ahead. I won't stop you. In fact, I'll even witness your ascension."
At this point, the silver dragon's tone shifted, his voice deepening. "But if your presence only plunges the Frontierlands into further chaos, I will make you pay the price for deceiving a metallic dragon."
The Black Silver Scale Armor reflected a faint light as the red-iron dragon nodded slightly. "Please, watch and see."
Sensing the red-iron dragon's resolve, the silver dragon's expression softened slightly.
His gaze swept across Dragon Valley before he folded his wings and slowly descended to the ground. Deborah and the red copper dragon Serena also landed.
Then, as a faint white aura flickered around their bodies, the massive silver dragon and red copper dragon began to shrink, using transformation magic to gradually reduce their size.
"Dragon Valley's open spaces are vast enough," Garos said. "There's no need to suppress your true dragon forms."
"Oh dear, we wouldn't want to trample the flowers and grass," Serena replied. "Being so enormous can be quite inconvenient at times. You'll understand later..." She trailed off, glancing at Garos's imposing physique.
A young red-iron dragon's physique doesn't match that of a mature dragon.
Yet Garos's sheer bulk was astonishing.
The silver dragon and red copper dragon, both mature dragons over three hundred years old, had never encountered a dragon as exaggeratedly muscular as Garos in all their long lives.
Edri's face was as beautiful as an elf's, his slightly narrow eyes giving him a sharp, piercing gaze. His waterfall of silvery-white hair was bound with an ice crystal clasp, and a prism-shaped gemstone, like frozen soulfire, hung from his left ear. Even with a smile, he exuded the aura of an icy mountain, his appearance truly extraordinary.
"The inheritance records were right," Garos thought, observing the silver dragon's humanoid form. "Silver dragons really are the most handsome and elegant of the main class dragons." He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "But he's too slender. Doesn't look like he has much muscle."
Iron-hard muscles, steel-forged bones.
Powerful! Dominating! Strong!
Even standing silently, he radiated terrifying strength. Garos himself preferred this kind of physique.
Serena stood beside Edri, her appearance far different from the silver dragon's, yet equally charming and playful. Her face was dotted with freckles, her skin smooth and honey-toned, and her eyes sparkled with youthful vitality.
If Garos hadn't known she was an ancient being over two hundred years old, he would have mistaken her for a girl of fifteen or sixteen.
"Red-iron dragon, Deborah mentioned you before. I remember you were in the Sierre Wilderness. Why have you come to the Frontierlands?" Serena asked, unable to discern the red-iron dragon's thoughts.
"You may call me Garos," the red-iron dragon replied. "I came to the Frontierlands out of necessity. In the Sierre Wilderness, I was suppressed, driven out, and had a bounty placed on my head by human nobles."
His voice carried no resentment or anger, only the calm of one who had grown accustomed to hardship, weathered countless storms, and found peace in resilience.
Deborah blinked, explaining on Garos's behalf, "When he was in the Sierre Wilderness, he secretly controlled a trade route, preventing monsters from harming people, establishing rules, and managing the area with remarkable order."
"But the human nobles forced him into a corner with exorbitant taxes."
"Left with no other choice, he chose mutual destruction, abandoning his foundation in the Sierre Wilderness and retreating to the even more barren Frontierlands, far from human territory."
She looked directly at her parents and said slowly, her voice earnest, "Father, Mother."
"You often say that the birth of an evil dragon is tied to its environment."
"Garos endured immense prejudice, yet he was never twisted by it. He is nothing like the evil dragon of popular imagination. I have never seen him slaughter the weak or display bloodthirsty cruelty."
"He cherishes a peaceful life, focusing on self-improvement with disciplined routines and unwavering diligence."
"The world harbors prejudice against him, treating him as an enemy, yet he never blames the world. He accepts reality with equanimity, adapting cautiously and surviving quietly."
Is this how Deborah sees me? Garos thought, listening silently.
He felt Deborah had idealized him somewhat, but overall her assessment was accurate enough. He accepted the praise with composure.
(End of the Chapter)
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