Facing the vertical pupils of the Red Iron Dragon Galos, which seemed to spit actual flames, Deborah felt a brief tremor in her heart.
She couldn't help but recall those crazy things from the past.
Intertwined dragon tails, sparks flying when scales collided, breaths woven into low growls—those images presented themselves in her mind.
She subconsciously lowered her gaze, avoiding the Red Iron Dragon's eyes.
A few seconds later, as if feeling that such behavior was too immature, she raised her head again.
Deborah said calmly, "The hatchlings have just broken their shells; now is the time they need their mother's company most. As for you... Galos, I've said it before, I will not interfere with your choices."
The traditional mating view of Metallic Dragons tended toward monogamy.
But this tradition was never an ironclad rule; more often than not, it only applied to partners of similar strength and level.
When the gap in strength between the two parties was too large, this balance became difficult to maintain.
In fact, those highly respected Metallic Dragon Kings all had more than one partner around them.
Galos's own strength was unique enough, and now he was the ruler of the Aura Kingdom, naturally attracting the gaze of many of the opposite sex.
He had always been good at fighting his own desires and did not indulge in pleasure, but all sorts of temptations constantly surrounded him.
Deborah understood that if she really spoke up and asked him to follow the ancient traditions of the Metallic Dragons, he might agree, even treating the suppression of instinct as a form of cultivation, drawing satisfaction from tempering his will.
But she was unwilling to do so.
In the depths of Deborah's heart, a lingering worry always circled.
She always felt that because Galos had experienced too many crises and upheavals in his youth, he lacked a sense of security deep down, which was why he pursued absolute power so obsessively.
Coupled with his rare talent that allowed him to receive direct feedback from training, it made it easier for him to immerse himself in endless tempering.
Fighting desire, restraining instinct.
Things that seemed like torture to other Dragons could be transformed into nourishment for his cultivation.
Deborah had no doubt that if he ever had to choose between "continuing to grow stronger" and "her, his partner," Galos would choose the former without hesitation.
His heart, in its pursuit of strength, was as hard as iron and unshakable.
This was also the fundamental reason he could grow from an ordinary Red Iron Dragon into the King of Aura.
Perhaps even Galos himself hadn't realized how similar he and his father, Gorsas, were in essence.
Both were Dragons who could discard everything for the sake of power.
As a bystander, especially as a partner who understood him, Deborah saw this exceptionally clearly.
She feared that over time, Galos would one day discard all factors that might hinder his evolution.
Including emotions, bonds, and even the most basic desires, eventually becoming a cold monster that only knew how to chase power.
This was the ending Deborah least wanted to see.
In contrast, if Galos could occasionally and selectively indulge his desires, it would instead make her feel more at ease; at least it proved he was still a living Dragon of flesh and blood.
The Red Iron Dragon across from her did not know the churning thoughts in Deborah's heart.
After hearing her words, the heat in his eyes receded at a visible rate, quickly returning to his usual calm.
"Mm, you're right."
His voice was as steady as ever: "The young Dragons do indeed need you more right now."
As expected... he suppressed his strong instinctive impulses in an instant again.
Seeing this scene, Deborah's heart sank slightly, and a complex emotion spread through her chest.
"Galos," she changed the subject, "I see you've been immersed in training lately. The war on the Romanian Plain is over; you should let yourself relax for a while."
"For example, personally inspect your kingdom and listen to the voices of your subjects."
"Or disguise your identity like before, take Vera, and go for a walk in the towns of Aura to experience ordinary life."
The Red Iron Dragon shook his head: "That sounds like a waste of time."
He paused, his gaze casting toward the distant mountains. "War is only on a hiatus; it will never truly end."
"This world has never truly been peaceful. No one knows when the next crisis will descend. Only by continuously growing stronger can one be qualified to protect everything we have now."
Deborah knew that saying more would be futile.
She knew Galos; once he set his mind on a path, no one could pull him back.
She could only sigh softly and swallow the words that had rushed to her lips.
A moment later, the conversation ended.
The restlessness in the Red Iron Dragon's heart had long since settled completely. He returned to his calm and focused state, heading back toward the training grounds, soon becoming immersed in the fulfillment of feeling his strength grow with every effort.
Time flowed quietly, and a month passed in the blink of an eye.
After a high-intensity training session, Galos dragged his exhausted body back to the depths of the palace.
He stepped into the spacious hot spring room and slowly submerged his massive body into the perfectly tempered pool water.
Dense steam immediately rose, blurring his vision. The liquefied energy currents enveloped the Dragon's robust body, slowly penetrating every crack between scales and muscles, washing away the accumulated fatigue.
Galos closed his eyes, feeling the soothing sensation brought by the energy flowing within his body.
This was one of the rare moments he allowed himself to relax.
The pool water was specially formulated according to the Dragon Clan's Physique. It was high-concentration energy in itself, with various medicinal essences added for healing and nourishing effects, working wonders for physical recovery.
Before long, a group of carefully selected Snakewoman attendants quietly slipped into the pool.
They were all young and beautiful, tall and slender, and were top-tier Snakefolk Warlocks, skilled in their craft with precise control over their strength.
Carrying an instinctive reverence for their sovereign, these attendants approached cautiously and began massaging the Dragon's hard scales and muscles with just the right technique, helping him relax further.
Galos's breathing was steady as usual, without any fluctuations.
He didn't have much interest in these weak creatures; their touch was more like a routine service.
Moreover, fighting desire was one of his common ways to temper his will; this level of contact wasn't enough to distract him.
However, as time passed, among the touches of the many attendants, one began to feel different.
At first, it followed the standard path, pressing cautiously and with restraint near the Dragon's spine.
But gradually, the trajectory of that touch underwent a subtle shift.
That hand carried a certain tentative provocativeness, slowly wandering along the rugged lines of the spine, the pads of the fingers brushing against the edges of the scales as if by chance, finally stopping at a sensitive spot where the shoulder blades connected to the neck—one of the few areas on a Dragon where the scales were thinner and nerves were densely distributed.
The fingertips circled there gently, the pressure varying from heavy to light.
Galos didn't open his eyes immediately, but the rhythm of his breathing grew slightly heavier.
The other Snakewomen didn't seem to notice anything unusual, still focused on the work at hand.
The owner of that hand, as if receiving some signal of tacit permission, became even more explicit and bold in her movements.
She began to reach deep into the gaps between the scales, wandering over the Dragon's torso, testing the hidden reactions beneath that hard armor, gliding over the flanks, the waist, and even gradually approaching more private areas.
Galos finally opened his eyes slowly.
His eyes were still as sharp as knives amidst the rising steam.
His movement wasn't large; he just slightly lowered his gaze.
A Snakewoman was kneeling at the bottom of the pool, her hands cradling one of his front claws, gently licking the scales on the back of the claw.
Her movements were pious and meticulous, her tongue occasionally brushing against the soft membrane at the joints of the scales.
Feeling the Emperor's gaze, she paused for a moment and then slowly floated upward, emerging from the water.
Wet black hair clung to the side of her slender neck, water droplets rolling down her delicate skin.
Her appearance was stunning even among Snakewomen, with a natural allure in her eyes.
"My King, do you like this?"
She raised her head, looking up at the majestic Dragon before her who was like a mountain, her voice soft.
"You have overstepped."
The Red Iron Dragon looked down at her, his voice like thunder, revealing no joy or anger.
"Please... please punish my presumption..."
The Snakewoman lowered her head as if in panic, her body leaning forward slightly, revealing a beautifully curved, snow-white back that almost shimmered under the reflection of the water.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, making her look pitiful.
The Red Iron Dragon's gaze lingered on her for two seconds before turning to the other attendants: "All of you, withdraw."
The other Snakewomen did not have the slightest hesitation or question; they immediately stopped their movements, slipped into the water submissively, and quickly went ashore.
They walked with light steps, leaving wet water marks as they silently left the bath area, without making a single extra sound throughout.
The spacious hot spring room fell silent at once, leaving only the pervasive mist and the sound of gurgling water.
And, the Red Iron Dragon and that audacious attendant.
"Zoraya, there's no need to pretend anymore."
Galos spoke.
Under his gaze, the Snakewoman suddenly smiled radiantly, the panicked expression on her face vanishing without a trace.
Her body then underwent a distorted transformation.
Her face didn't change much, still glamorous.
The snake tail of her lower body quickly retracted, turning into a pair of long, straight legs, with a few azure snake scale patterns remaining below the knees; at the same time, several gem-like Blue Dragon scales appeared on her arms, chest, waist, and abdomen, arranged in exquisite patterns; a pair of dragon horns, branched like lightning, wound out from the sides of her forehead, with tiny electric sparks dancing at the tips.
The Blue Dragon Zoraya.
She showed no fear at all; instead, she puffed out her chest, letting her beautiful curves be fully revealed beneath the shimmering water.
The Emperor's pressure seemed to have no effect on her.
"As expected, nothing can be hidden from you, my King."
She said softly, "I just wanted to... personally soothe your fatigue after the victory. The glorious achievements on the Romanian Plain deserve a proper celebration."
She paused, her voice lowering but becoming even clearer.
"And I believe that I myself... can serve as this celebratory gift."
The pool water was silent for a moment, with only steam constantly rising, condensing, and dripping.
Galos slowly extended his front claw, and a massive shadow loomed over Zoraya.
He opened his palm, grasped her entirely within it, and then raised her to his eyes.
Zoraya sat slumped in the Dragon's palm, adopting a timid and weak posture, her hands clutching her knees, yet she met the Red Iron Dragon's gaze without flinching.
For a long time, she had harbored complex feelings for this powerful and majestic King of Molten Iron.
Awe, admiration, desire, and a contradiction of wanting to get closer but not daring to act rashly.
Galos's Heart-Nature was as tough as iron; he was rarely swayed by desire and never actively pursued pleasure, and he always ignored her various hints.
But now, the situation seemed to have undergone a subtle change.
After the war on the Romanian Plain, following such a brilliant victory, even the most steadfast heart would inevitably experience a moment of relaxation.
Moreover, that Metallic Dragon partner had not been by the King's side for some time.
Most importantly, that Metallic Dragon had actually contacted her, telling her that now was the best time to approach the King—whereas before, the Copper-Silver Dragon had always been very wary of her.
This might be a trap, or it might be to toy with her.
But after careful consideration, Zoraya decided to trust the Metallic Dragon.
So she planned this encounter, blending into the team of attendants.
During this time, she once felt as if her mind had been peered into and she had been discovered, but then nothing happened, and everything went smoothly.
"King, please... accept this gift."
Zoraya lightly bit her lip, her profile leaning against one of the Red Iron Dragon's curved and sharp hooked talons, slowly rubbing against it.
Her cheeks gradually flushed, and her breathing became hurried. The electric sparks leaping from the tips of her dragon horns became more active, crackling and popping, intertwining with the rising steam from the hot spring and making faint bursting sounds.
There were some ripples in Galos's eyes.
He could feel the temperature and trembling of the body in his claws, as well as a certain burning expectation.
Long-suppressed instincts stirred at this moment, engaging in a tug-of-war with reason.
"A fine celebratory gift," he finally spoke, his voice becoming somewhat low and raspy, "I accept it."
A full month later.
The Red Iron Dragon finally flew out of the palace and reappeared at the training grounds.
His movements looked no different from usual, still steady, with every beat of his wings carrying a majestic Aura.
But if one observed closely, they would find that his flight posture was slightly more relaxed than before, and his spirit was no longer constantly as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.
Moderate indulgence had indeed allowed him to achieve a certain degree of relaxation.
He soon threw himself back into his daily training schedule as if that month of absence had never happened, everything as before.
And in that former hot spring room, which had almost become a ruin.
The Blue Dragon had already returned to her original form and was struggling to prop up her body with her front limbs.
Large patches of the scales on her body were cracked and upturned, with wisps of blood constantly seeping from the gaps, dyeing the pool water beneath her a pale red; her right front claw was unnaturally twisted, clearly broken; there were several indentations in the scales on her chest and abdomen, marks of having withstood the impact of immense force.
Even more serious were the internal injuries.
At least four ribs were broken, and her internal organs had varying degrees of shock injuries. Every breath tugged at the wounds, bringing sharp pain.
What had just happened was, for her, no different from experiencing a life-and-death struggle.
This was the result of the vast difference in strength and body size between the two parties.
But no expression of pain or regret appeared on Zoraya's face.
On the contrary, there was a sense of satisfaction in her eyes as she panted lowly while trying to move her body.
Those pains seemed to speak of the Red Emperor's strength and madness, and this was exactly what she was most obsessed with.
That unparalleled sense of power, that feeling of being about to be completely crushed yet being carefully spared at the last moment by his control, left her intoxicated.
Daylight spilled through the broken window, forming several hazy beams of light.
Zoraya watched the dust dancing in those beams of light, her mind uncontrollably replaying the fragments of what had just happened.
The Red Iron Dragon's breath, as hot as a blazing fire, brushing past her ear, the pressure of his claws on her scales that felt as if they would shatter—she couldn't help but curl her intact claw and then softly gasp as it tugged at her wounds.
Finally, she fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.