Aura Kingdom, High Mountain Dragon Court.
Deborah led the four Young Dragons through the thick cloud layer, her wings slicing through the thin air as she landed steadily on the vast open ground paved with magical metal.
Many Great Bear Imperial Guards were already standing guard here.
Their statures were as majestic as moving small mountains, and their heavy armor gleamed with a cold, hard luster.
Every Great Bear looked straight ahead, exuding the aura of the Dragon.
These guards had generally undergone more than one Dragon-Forging Ritual, and their muscle lines contained explosive power that surpassed ordinary creatures.
After the four Young Dragons landed, they all began to look around in unison.
After seven years of growth and careful nurturing in the Fubo Dragon Domain, the little dragons had long since shed the fragility they had when they hatched.
Their scales had become solid and thick, and their body size had increased significantly. Especially the two red-scaled Young Dragons, their body lengths had already exceeded ten meters, making them look more like Young Dragons than seven-year-old hatchlings.
The other two, a Silver Dragon and an Iron Dragon, were slightly smaller in size, but they also far exceeded the dimensions expected of dragons their age.
"Is this Father's kingdom?"
The first Red Young Dragon to land stepped with his dark red claws, pacing twice on the metal platform, the clanging sound echoing with his steps.
He raised his head, his deep red eyes scanning the surroundings.
His gaze swept past the silent, statue-like Great Bear Imperial Guards, over the layered metal buildings in the distance, and finally fixed on the most magnificent palace situated at the highest point.
"Not bad,"
He evaluated, "This scale is barely worthy of a future world ruler."
He turned to look at his brothers and sisters who had just landed, raising a front claw to signal: "Listen, when we see Father later, show some respect. After all, he is still the boss here for now. We are newcomers, so we shouldn't lack proper etiquette."
Hearing these words, Deborah hovered in the air for a moment before landing.
The Copper-Silver Dragon's wings folded elegantly. She glanced at her eldest son, her lips curling into a half-smile.
Garcke Ignas—that was the Red Young Dragon's name.
As the eldest of the four siblings and the first to hatch, his personality was also the closest to a traditional Red Dragon.
Confident, proud, with a desire for dominance etched into his bones.
Beside Garcke, the young Iron Dragon folded her wings elegantly.
Golden patterns flowed over her obsidian-like scales, looking like soaring lightning.
"My dear brother," she spoke with a giggle, her voice crisp as a bell, "you're right. We should give Father enough respect—at least until he passes the throne to you."
As she spoke, her gaze quickly swept over the entire platform, taking in the surrounding situation.
Ophelia Ignas, the second Iron Dragon to hatch.
She was skilled at using a harmless posture to draw closer to other dragons, but she was keen on secretly fanning the flames, especially enjoying playing tricks on her elder brother and egging him on to do stupid things destined to invite trouble.
Meanwhile, the young Silver Dragon, with two faint trails of flowing light swaying behind her wings, circled in the air three times before landing.
Her flight path was light and ethereal, as if gliding through the air. She made no sound when she landed. She let out a long yawn, her long, sword-like wings lazily folding against her sides.
"A bit sleepy..."
She whispered, her voice carrying the laziness of someone who had just woken up. "After flying for so long, I should have a good sleep next."
She lacked interest in the magnificent buildings and steep mountains around her; even upon arriving at her father's kingdom for the first time, she didn't show much curiosity.
The Silver Dragon Isanora Ignas, the third to hatch.
She possessed the fastest speed among the siblings, yet she was naturally lazy and the smallest in size. However, her wingspan ratio was the most conspicuous, and her wing structure was unique.
The last Red Dragon to land did not speak.
He stood at the edge of the platform, overlooking the sprawling Crimson Flame Royal City below. The red lotus-shaped patterns on his scales flickered in the sunlight, rising and falling slightly with his breathing.
He gazed at the winding streets in the city, his breathing gradually becoming heavy, a certain light of excitement flashing in his eyes.
Laria Ignas, the last Red Dragon to hatch.
He had the Bloodline of a Red Dragon, but his personality was not irritable; instead, it tended more toward the rational thinking of an Iron Dragon.
He was usually taciturn, but he would become talkative whenever the Kingdom of Dragons was mentioned. Moreover, he was an extreme Dragon supremacist.
In his eyes, all non-Dragon creatures, including mixed-bloods, sub-dragons, and so on, should bow their heads to True Dragons. This was the Law of nature.
"Children, follow me."
Deborah's slightly weary voice came through.
Anyone who traveled a long distance with four offspring of distinct personalities and boundless energy would find it difficult to maintain a pleasant mood.
The Copper-Silver Dragon turned and stepped toward the main hall.
The four siblings looked around as they followed their mother into the Dragon Court.
Passing through the towering archway, the internal space suddenly opened up.
The main hall was cast from magical metal, with glowing crystals embedded in the walls, illuminating every corner.
The dome was extremely high, enough to accommodate dragons flying within. The floor was polished to a mirror-like shine, reflecting the light from the crystals above.
Then, they saw their father.
Garos Ignis stood in the center of the hall.
He did not sit on the throne located on the highest step, yet he was more eye-catching than if he were sitting on any throne.
Just by standing there, he seemed to become the center of the entire space. All light, airflow, and even gazes naturally converged toward him.
The four Young Dragons stopped in their tracks in unison.
They simultaneously looked up, gazing at that magnificent figure.
The Red Iron Dragon was even more majestic than their mother had described.
His scales, a weave of dark red and deep black, were like metal tempered a thousand times, flowing with a cold, hard luster. Even when folded at his sides, his wings were broader and more massive than those of dragons of the same size, the wing membranes appearing like solidified energy. The spines on his back stood like a forest of swords and halberds, each one radiating sharpness.
Even standing still, the bulging muscles beneath his scales were as clearly defined as if cast from steel.
Strong, powerful, and overbearing.
Even the boldest, Garcke, felt an instinctive tremor at this moment.
It was the uncontrollable awe deep within the Bloodline when a low-Rank Dragon faced a Legendary Dragon.
This pressure was invisible and intangible, yet it weighed heavily on the hearts of every Young Dragon. However, at the thought that this Dragon was their father, the pressure dropped significantly.
On either side of the Red Emperor stood two other adult dragons.
On the left was Iron Dragon Sorog, his deep black scales as steady as a mountain, his eyes calmly observing the Young Dragons with scrutiny and evaluation. On the right was Red Dragon Samantha; her scales were a burning bright red, and she was currently tilting her head with interest, a smile hanging on her lips.
"Lord of the Aura Kingdom, my respected father."
The last Red Young Dragon to hatch was the first to speak.
Laria took a step forward, his voice carrying unmistakable excitement. Those red lotus patterns glowed slightly with his movements.
"I am Laria Ignas. I am very glad to finally arrive in your kingdom."
He said, his gaze quickly scanning every detail of the hall. "Everything here makes me curious. The scale of the architecture, the discipline of the guards, the dragon aura in the air—it's all even more shocking than Mother described."
He raised his head, looking directly into Garros's eyes.
"It is truly an incredible feat for you to establish such a kingdom as a Red Iron Dragon in an era where the glory of dragons has faded."
"Father, I feel heartfelt admiration for you."
Pausing, he continued: "I hope to have the opportunity to hear you personally tell how you rose from insignificance and built the kingdom to its current scale. I believe that would be an experience worth learning for all dragons."
Kiss-up!
Usually so quiet, yet he has so much to say now!
Garcke turned his head to look at his brother, his deep red eyes showing unconcealed disdain.
He flicked his tail, creating a piercing scraping sound on the floor.
Garros's dragon pupils turned toward Laria, his gaze lingering for a moment on those red lotus patterns.
He knew very well that those patterns were not just for decoration.
Then, he looked away, gazing down at the still-tiny Young Dragons.
"Laria,"
The Red Emperor's voice was low as thunder, echoing in the hall.
"You are very interested in the process of my kingdom's founding?"
"Yes." Laria nodded, his speaking speed increasing slightly. "I have heard about the kingdom's general situation from Mother, but I believe that is only the tip of the iceberg. After truly coming here, I am even more certain of this. Your kingdom's structure is very reasonable, with the Dragon Clan at the core and other races performing their respective duties. This is the perfect embodiment of the Dragon Supremacy philosophy."
He lightly tapped the ground with his front claw and continued: "However, in my opinion, this system can be further optimized."
"The Aura Kingdom should establish a clear Pyramid System."
"Pure-blood Dragons are at the very top, enjoying the highest authority. Then come the Dragon-kin who have undergone the Dragon-Forging Ritual, acting as middle-level managers. Below them are sub-dragons and other dragon-blooded creatures. At the very bottom are the non-dragon races."
"This would ensure the stability of the rule and avoid the dilution of power caused by racial mixing..."
Hearing this, Iron Dragon Sorog glanced sideways slightly.
This offspring of his brother seemed to have his own ideas regarding national governance.
Regardless of whether these ideas were correct or feasible, being able to have such thoughts at this age already surpassed the vast majority of dragons.
"Laria."
Deborah interrupted her son's narration, gently touching the Young Dragon's back with her wing.
"Let your siblings introduce themselves first," she said. "Father needs to know each of you."
Laria realized his gaffe and immediately shut his mouth, stepping back half a pace and lowering his head in apology.
Aside from being somewhat extreme in his philosophy, his other personality traits were good, making him the Copper-Silver Dragon's most ideal child.
"I am Ophelia Ignas."
The Little Iron Dragon walked forward obediently.
Her black eyes blinked, her gaze lingering on Garros for a moment before she revealed an innocent and cute smile.
"Father," she spoke, her voice crisp and sweet, "Mother often told us stories about you, especially the part where you dragged a satellite down from space. That was so amazing! I feel my blood boiling every time I hear it!"
She went directly beneath the Red Iron Dragon's majestic body, fearlessly leaning against his massive front claw.
This movement was bold and natural, as if she were already accustomed to such closeness.
"Father, I am so happy." Ophelia looked up, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at Garros. "You are even more powerful and majestic than I imagined. Being your offspring is my greatest honor."
As she spoke, her tail also wagged gently, her tone full of admiration.
"Isanora Ignas."
The Little Silver Dragon reported her name in a flat tone, without any embellishment.
Then she asked: "Father, is there a place to sleep here? Preferably close to the dining hall. I don't want to fly too far just to eat; that consumes too much energy."
The corner of Garros's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
"There is," he answered simply.
"Great." The young Silver Dragon nodded with satisfaction, walked directly to a thick pillar at the edge of the hall, curled up her body, and closed her 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 entered a semi-sleep state almost instantly, her breathing becoming long and steady.
Finally, the Red Iron Dragon's gaze fell upon Garcke.
This Young Dragon's size was a full circle larger than his other blood relatives, his muscle contours more defined, and his whole body was brimming with an aura as irritable as fire.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling slightly, his deep red scales opening and closing with his breath, emitting a scorching temperature.
For a brief moment, Garros seemed to see the shadow of Gorsas the Red Dragon in him.
"Garcke, my dear brother, why aren't you saying anything?"
The Little Iron Dragon leaning against her father's claw tilted her head and asked with an innocent face: "I remember you once said you were going to make a declaration to Father to let him know how formidable you are. Now is the time."
The eldest Red Dragon son took a deep breath.
He puffed out his chest and strode forward, his claws making a heavy sound on the floor, every step exuding a sense of power.
Walking to about ten meters from Garros, he stopped, raised his large head, and looked directly at the Legendary Dragon with his deep red eyes without avoidance.
"Garcke Ignas."
He reported his full name, his voice loud. "Your most powerful offspring. You will feel honored to have a descendant like me."
After finishing this declaration-like opening, he changed the subject and asked: "Mother often said you once dragged a magical satellite down from space. Is that true?"
Garros nodded slightly.
"It is true."
He answered.
"Impressive!" The young Red Dragon wagged his tail excitedly, scraping sparks on the floor.
Immediately, his tone shifted again: "However, I feel you didn't handle it thoroughly enough."
"If it were me, I would have smashed that thing into Xio's royal capital, crushing the palace and the king into ashes together to eliminate all future troubles."
He raised a front claw, making a clenching motion.
"Father, you are not decisive enough, nor are you ruthless enough. Your methods toward enemies are still too merciful."
The Little Iron Dragon lightly tapped her father's claw scales.
She added in a low voice: "Brother often said when we were in the Fubo Dragon Domain that once he inherits your kingdom, he will burn all enemy nations to ruins. He said that is the way a dragon should rule."
Garros's brow ridge rose slightly.
Deborah covered her face with her claw, letting out a silent sigh.
She knew this scene was bound to happen sooner or later.
Sorog's expression was somewhat playful, his gaze moving back and forth between Garcke and Garros.
Samantha, on the other hand, directly grinned, revealing sharp teeth.
"Haha, quite the ambition." Red Dragon Samantha said, her voice full of appreciation. "Garcke? Good boy, I really like this personality of yours. If you can truly defeat your father, I'll reward you with ten gems—pick from my private collection. Even if you lose, as long as you show enough courage, I'll give you one gem as a meeting gift."
Garcke nodded, his expression serious: "Have those ten gems ready for me. I will come to collect them."
Pausing, he added: "You are my... aunt, right? I've heard Mother mention you. Good, you have good taste. You are indeed a smart and powerful Red Dragon."
Samantha laughed even louder, her wings trembling slightly from the laughter.
Opposite the young Red Dragon, Garros remained silent for a few seconds.
Does this little thing know what he's saying?
He wasn't angry.
Instead, a sense of interest rose in his heart.
He observed his eldest son as if observing an interesting new object.
"Oh? Surpass me?"
The Red Emperor repeated, his tone rising slightly at the end.
"Of course!"
Garcke's tail perked up, a sign of excitement for a Red Dragon.
"This is not just a possibility, but an inevitability. Mother said you were Rank 7 when you were my age, but my life Rank—"
He paused his voice, letting all the dragons focus on him.
"—has already reached Rank 8." He announced, his voice carrying unconcealed pride. "I am stronger than you were at the same age."
The Iron Dragon Ophelia added at the right time: "Brother has already defeated all peers in the Fubo Dragon Domain; even those Young Dragons are no match for him."
These words were like adding oil to the fire.
Two sparks puffed from Garcke's nostrils, burning briefly in the air before extinguishing.
He held his head high, the scales on his neck standing on end, making him look even more formidable.
"That's right! Father, if we were the same age, you definitely wouldn't be my match," he said bluntly. "This isn't arrogance, but a judgment based on facts."
"Greater strength, faster growth, and superior combat talent."
"I possess everything needed to surpass you."
He stomped his front claw heavily, the floor letting out a dull thud. "If you don't believe me, you can use Transformation to suppress your Life Rank to match mine and then spar with me. I guarantee I'll give you a surprise and show you that what I say is true."
This Red Young Dragon actually issued a challenge to the Red Emperor in front of all the Dragons.
Deborah finally couldn't help herself. "Garcke, you—"
"It's fine."
Galos raised a front claw, stopping the Copper-Silver Dragon's reprimand.
The Red Emperor looked down at the Red Young Dragon, his deep black eyes reflecting Garcke's figure standing tall and proud.
The way he looked at his eldest son became complex.
Three parts amusement, three parts nostalgia, and four parts eagerness to give it a try.
"I have experienced countless battles throughout my growth."
Galos spoke unhurriedly, "Those battles were never for the sake of fairness. Real combat only has victory and defeat, no rules. I became stronger to crush my enemies, not to play games of equal Ranks with them."
He paused slightly to let the Young Dragon digest those words.
"However," Galos continued, "you are my first descendant. As your father, I am willing to give you a chance."
"Want to challenge me? Fine."
He stretched his wings, his movements slow yet full of power, fully unfolding the wing membranes until they almost blocked the Young Dragon's entire field of vision.
"Follow me."
With that, the Red Iron Dragon turned and flapped his wings.
He didn't fly at full speed, instead gliding toward the outskirts of the royal palace at a steady pace, giving the Young Dragons time to keep 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. The Little Silver Dragon Isanora, who had been napping, found it rare and interesting; she opened her eyes, yawned, stretched her wings, and followed.
Amidst the mountains, there was a specially cleared, wide open space.
This was where Galos exercised daily, and the surrounding mountains and ground were covered in various scars.
The Red Emperor landed at one end of the clearing.
He turned to look at the Dragon Group that landed after him.
Deborah, Sorog, and Samantha landed at the edge of the clearing, forming a natural observation area.
Ithalamas, that Amethyst Dragon, although not showing himself, had also quietly followed and was observing from the shadows, curious about the Red Emperor's offspring.
The four Young Dragons landed at the other end of the clearing, facing off against their father across a distance of about a hundred meters.
"The rules are simple."
Galos spoke, his voice echoing through the mountains.
"I will use Transformation to control my Rank to a level similar to yours."
"You can use any means to attack me—physical attacks, Dragon Breath, Spell-like abilities, or any tactic you think of on the fly. I won't strike back; I will only defend and dodge."
"If you can leave even a single scratch on me, even just a slight scrape on the surface of a scale, you win."
As his voice fell, he began to activate Transformation.
His magnificent, mountain-like Dragon body rapidly shrank, his bones making slight but dense popping sounds as his muscle contours redistributed under his scales.
Within seconds, Galos's size became roughly the same as the Red Young Dragon's, and his aura was suppressed to an extremely low level.
Around Rank 8, matching the Rank Garcke had claimed.
But some things couldn't be completely hidden.
The depth in those eyes, the experience contained in his movements, and his body proportions, which remained exaggerated even after shrinking, all proved this was no true Rank 8 Young Dragon.
"A single scratch?"
Garcke felt his pride stung, his scales standing up in anger, their edges grinding against each other with a rustling sound.
"Father, are you sure? I'm no ordinary Young Dragon."
"In the Fubo Dragon Domain, I once frontally defeated a seventeen-year-old Young Gold Dragon!"
"Then make it two scratches." The Red Iron Dragon sat down leisurely, his wings folded at his sides, his posture as relaxed as if he were sunbathing. "Begin. Let's see what you're made of."
"Roar—!"
Garcke didn't hesitate for a second and launched a charge.
The dark red figure shot out like a cannonball, his hind legs leaving shallow depressions in the reinforced ground as he kicked off.
A blazing red light condensed on his front claws; it was one of the Spell-like abilities he had awakened at a young age, Blazing Claw Strike.
The air distorted around his claw tips as the temperature rose sharply.
Thirty meters, twenty meters, ten meters... the Red Young Dragon's speed grew faster and faster, his eyes fixed only on his father's figure.
He instinctively controlled the distance, angle, and speed, ensuring this strike would hit the chest dead center. Even if it couldn't cause damage, it would at least leave a mark.
Just a moment before the sharp claws were about to touch Galos's chest, the Red Iron Dragon slightly turned his body.
The movement was small, the timing precise.
Garcke's pounce met only empty air.
The Blazing Claw Strike tore through the air but touched nothingness.
Because he had used too much force and suddenly lost his target, his entire Dragon body rolled on the ground several times before barely coming to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Good speed,"
Galos commented, his voice calm. "But a linear charge is too obvious. Any enemy with even a bit of experience can predict your trajectory."
Garcke scrambled to his feet, shook the dust off his head, and bared his teeth.
The failure of his first attack didn't discourage him; instead, it ignited a stronger fighting spirit.
An orange-red glow lit up deep in his throat.
Dragon Breath!
Blazing flames gushed out, spreading like a fan and covering a large area.
Garcke turned his neck, letting the Dragon Breath sweep across all directions his father might dodge toward.
However, the flames only fell on the empty ground.
Galos flapped his wings and took off vertically the instant before the Dragon Breath reached him, then hovered at a safe height above the range of the fire.
His movements were concise and efficient, without any wasted effort.
The Red Young Dragon held his head high and continued to spew Dragon Breath, trying to force his father into a corner, but Galos simply moved nimbly in the air, narrowly avoiding the edge of the flames every time as if playing a game.
"Damn it!"
Garcke's throat began to ache.
He stopped his breath, gasping, his chest heaving violently.
Without hesitation, he pounced toward his father in the air again.
This time he had learned to be cleverer; he didn't charge in a straight line but quickly changed directions on the ground, creating feints to try and interfere with his father's predictions.
Claw strikes, tail sweeps, rams, and even attempts to slash with the edges of his wings, interspersed with occasional Spell-like abilities.
Garcke displayed everything he had learned in seven years, his offensive as dense as a rainstorm.
However, every single attack ended in failure.
Galos didn't use any flashy techniques.
He used only the simplest turns, arm raises, head tilts, and small movements to neutralize every attack. Sometimes he didn't even move, only adjusting his body angle to let the attacks slide off the surface of his scales.
Crucially, the speed he displayed wasn't fast, and his explosiveness wasn't strong.
He relied entirely on his rich combat experience to predict all the little Red Dragon's attack intentions and then made the smallest adjustments at the last possible moment.
After a while, Garcke stopped, panting heavily.
He was covered in dust, several patches of his scales were hot from intense friction, and his throat burned from overusing his Dragon Breath.
In contrast, even though Galos had suppressed his Rank and shrunk his size, his scales were still as clean as new, without any marks of battle, and even his breathing was as steady as ever.
Among the onlookers.
"Father is... just toying with Garcke." The Little Iron Dragon Ophelia sighed, though there was a hint of schadenfreude in her tone. "Alas, my poor brother; he thinks he's challenging Father, but he's actually just performing a comedy."
"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 egging him on."
"Hey, hey, see it but don't say it." Ophelia gave a soft huff, her black eyes turning toward the Silver Dragon. "Otherwise, every time you nap, you'll have to be careful about me waking you up. Do you know how many ways I can think of to keep you from sleeping?"
"Fine, fine, I'm so scared."
Isanora shook her head, deciding not to argue with this troublesome sister.
She curled up a bit more, burying her head under her wing, leaving only one eye exposed to continue watching.
On the other side, Laria stared at the battle without blinking, not saying a word, only observing those techniques her father displayed, trying to memorize them deeply.
In the center of the clearing, Garcke's chest heaved violently.
Sweat seeped from the gaps between his scales and was instantly evaporated into white vapor by his high body temperature. He stared at his father, the fire of resentment burning in his deep red eyes.
"Is that it?"
He suddenly spoke, his voice intermittent due to his gasping. "Father, is dodging all you can do? Do you dare to stay in place and take one of my real attacks? If you don't even dare to take a hit head-on, then what's the point of this contest?"
In his desperation, he used a provocation tactic.
Though simple, it was often effective against proud Dragon members.
Galos's eyes narrowed slightly.
In the air, he slowly descended, standing back on the ground with his wings fully folded and his front claws placed steadily in front of him.
"Very well," he said. "Use your strongest move. I will stand right here and no longer dodge."
Garcke took a deep breath, suppressing the wild joy in his heart.
He took a few steps back to create distance.
Then, he began to gather his power.
His deep red scales became even darker, almost approaching black. The spines on his back stood up one by one, their tips glowing red. The surrounding air distorted violently due to the high temperature, and the dust on the ground began to move without wind, forming a small vortex around him.
Three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds... Garcke's mouth opened to its limit, his jawbone making a slight sound.
Deep in his throat, a point of deep red light lit up and rapidly expanded.
That wasn't the glow of ordinary Dragon Breath; that light was more condensed, more profound, like a volcano about to erupt.
This seven-year-old Young Dragon was compressing his Dragon Breath, transforming it into a more lethal form.
Whoosh!
A fist-sized, deep red fireball shot out from Garcke's mouth.
Its speed wasn't fast—it was even somewhat slow—but everywhere it passed, the air clearly distorted and layered due to the extreme heat.
The middle of the fireball was a near-white bright light, its exterior wrapped in layers of deep red, with a thin stream of energy trailing behind it.
This wasn't an ordinary fireball, but a mass of highly Compressed Dragon Breath essence. Its power was often stronger than continuously spewed Dragon Breath, making it a finishing move for many Red Dragons at critical moments.
To be able to master the technique of compressing Dragon Breath as a Young Dragon, Garcke's combat talent was indeed impressive.
The fireball flew straight toward Galos.
The Red Iron Dragon did not dodge.
He raised his right wing, the wing membrane fully extended, and then pressed it down slightly, meeting the incoming Dragon Breath fireball at a perfect diagonal angle.
At the moment of impact, there was no explosion.
The fireball touched the diagonal surface of the wing membrane and, like water meeting a rock, its direction was cleverly changed. It slid along the wing surface in an upward arc, its trajectory completely diverted.
Swoosh!
The Dragon Breath fireball flew over Galos's head, continued to rise, and exploded in the air at a height of about fifty meters.
Boom!
A grand burst of sparks bloomed like fireworks, the shockwave spreading in all directions and shaking the surrounding mountains until dust fell. The firelight illuminated the entire clearing and flickered in the eyes of every Dragon.
Garcke watched this scene blankly.
His mind went completely blank.
His strongest strike, a Compressed Dragon Breath he had prepared for ten whole seconds, was just... flicked away by the slope of a wing?
He hadn't even seen his father use much strength.
The movement was nonchalant, like casually brushing away a fallen leaf.
"The energy compression was good," Galos evaluated, his voice calm. "If it hit an opponent of the same Rank head-on, it would indeed be a finishing blow, or even cause heavy injuries to someone of a higher Rank."
He lowered his wing and stood straight again.
"However, the preparation time is too long," Galos continued. "In actual combat, no enemy will wait in place for ten seconds for you to spew your breath. Moreover, the trajectory is too simple; flying in a straight line makes it too easy to predict and counter."
He walked toward his son, who was standing there dazed, his footsteps steady.
Even after shrinking, the Red Iron Dragon was still somewhat taller than Garcke, and his shadow gradually enveloped him.
"Garcke, you have great potential." Galos looked down at this hot-headed young Red Dragon. "But you need to understand one thing: in this world, there will always be existences stronger than you. Confidence is a good thing, as it can drive you forward, but conceit is foolishness; it will blind your eyes and keep you from seeing the true gap between us."
Garcke didn't hear his father's words clearly.
He stared blankly at the sparks gradually dissipating in the air, his blood feeling as if it had all rushed to his head, the blood vessels under his scales throbbing, and his ears ringing.
Shame!
An unprecedented shame!
He had been invincible among his peers in the Fubo Dragon Domain and could even challenge a Young Gold Dragon above his Rank. Yet today, he couldn't even touch a single scale of his father after he had suppressed his Rank to the same level? He couldn't even leave a single scratch?
The gazes from around him felt like needles pricking his pride.
"I haven't lost yet!"
Just as the Red Iron Dragon stepped closer, with only five meters remaining, a roar erupted from Garcke's throat.
It was a howl of pure emotional venting.
He kicked off with his hind legs, using all his strength to burst forth with unprecedented speed.
This time he didn't use claws, teeth, or Dragon Breath; he used his hardest shoulder blades and head, slamming into Galos like a battering ram.
This was a brute-force collision born from a loss of reason, without any technique to speak of, a desperate strike driven purely by rage.
The scales on Galos's forehead furrowed slightly.
The instant before Garcke was about to collide, the Red Iron Dragon's tail moved.
The tip of his tail, like the end of a whip, traced a short arc in the air and struck the joint of Garcke's front claw just as it hit the ground.
"Gah!"
Garcke's charging posture instantly deformed.
The sharp pain and sense of imbalance from his front claw caused him to lose control, his entire Dragon body tilting to the side.
He still wanted to adjust his center of gravity, but it was already too late.
A dragon claw covered in dark red and pitch-black scales had already descended over him.
The claw wasn't massive; under the effect of Transformation, its size was similar to Garcke's claws. But the timing, angle, and speed of its descent were all flawless. Like a pair of iron pincers, it firmly seized the Red Young Dragon's neck.
"Urgh!"
The feeling of suffocation and the creaking sound of his neck bones under pressure came at the same time.
With all four claws off the ground, Garcke was lifted up by the Red Iron Dragon father with a single claw.
His body hung in the air, struggling in vain, his claws scratching wildly at his father's arm, his tail violently thrashing the air.
He even tried to condense fire again, but with his neck restrained and breathing difficult, all his strength rapidly drained away, and the small spark was extinguished as soon as it appeared.
The strength he took pride in seemed laughable under the Red Iron Dragon's claw.
The claw wasn't even using full strength; he could feel that his father was just holding him steadily, his knuckles not even fully tightened.
But it was this ease that made Garcke feel even more despair.
"Failure is not something to be feared," Galos said calmly, his voice right next to him.
Those deep black eyes looked down at his son from a close distance, the previous interest gone, replaced by a kind of indifference and scrutiny. "What's truly terrifying is being unable to accept failure, becoming hysterical, and losing your reason. That is more pathetic than the failure itself."
"Let... let go!"
Garcke struggled violently, a roar squeezed from between his teeth.
The pressure on his neck distorted his voice, carrying a painful tremor.
The Red Iron Dragon did not let go.
He didn't even respond, merely watching the Young Dragon in his claws in silence; this silence was more terrifying than any reprimand.
"You don't seem convinced yet," Galos finally spoke.
"Not... convinced!" Garcke squeezed a roar from between his teeth, his eyes burning with extreme stubbornness. "You... are just... more years older than me... Wait until I... grow up..."
"You won't live to see that day. Since you're not convinced, then die."
The Red Iron Dragon's words cut short his fantasies.
Immediately after, the claw holding his neck began to steadily increase its force.
It was a slow, steady, and irresistible pressure. Every second, the pressure increased by a notch, like a hydraulic press gradually closing.
Crack... Snap... The distinct sound of bones fracturing rang out clearly.
Garcke's eyes instantly widened, his bloodshot eyeballs nearly bulging out of their sockets. Intense pain swept through his body from his neck, the sensation of suffocation made his lungs feel like they were on fire, and his vision began to darken at the edges.
But more terrifying than the physical pain was the feeling of life rapidly slipping away.
He could clearly feel his life force draining, like grains of sand falling irrevocably through an hourglass.
His heart pounded wildly, trying to pump blood, but the carotid artery was compressed, blood could not flow smoothly, his brain began to lack oxygen, and his thoughts became sluggish.
Death.
This word descended with such reality for the first time.
His frantic struggles turned into weak twitches. His scratching claws went limp, leaving only a few shallow marks on his father's arm guards. His tail also went stiff and motionless, the tip trembling slightly.
"Fa... Father... I... You..."
In the face of death, he finally felt fear.
A bone-chilling fear that reached deep into his marrow.
He began to beg for mercy, but after only a few words, his throat could only produce a wheezing, gasping sound.
Garcke shifted his gaze, trying his best to look toward his mother.
He wanted to call for help, to see his mother stop this execution, but his vision darkened rapidly. His Dragon father's majestic face blurred, Deborah's figure also became hazy, and the entire world was drifting away from him.
Fear, an unprecedented fear, gripped his heart.
So... this is what death is like... cold, dark, powerless, everything beyond recovery... "No... I don't want to die yet..."
One last faint thought flashed by, and then even the ability to think began to vanish.
"Wait, Father."
Two voices rang out simultaneously.
The Silver Dragon Isanora had already stood up, her wings unfurled. Her usually lazy eyes were now wide open.
"Garcke was wrong, but his crime does not warrant death; he is merely a bit arrogant," she said. "Please forgive him this once."
On the other side, the Red Dragon Laria also stepped forward.
He didn't plead directly like his younger sister, but instead took a different angle: "Father, my elder brother is indeed arrogant and ignorant, but this courage to challenge the strong is itself worth preserving. If it is stifled now, it would be a loss for the Kingdom's future."
Garcke could no longer hear these words.
His consciousness drifted in the darkness, with only one last thread of blurry perception remaining.
Crack!
The distinct sound of a neck bone breaking rang out.
The Red Iron Dragon released his claw.
Garcke's body slumped to the ground like a pile of mud. His head tilted to one side at an extremely unnatural angle, and his deep red eyes lost all luster, becoming empty and hollow.
He made no movement, showed no sign of breathing, and even the rise and fall of his chest had stopped.
The surroundings fell into a deathly silence.
The smile on the Little Iron Dragon Ophelia's face had long since completely vanished. Her black eyes were wide and round, and her body trembled slightly.
She had never expected such a result.
Her father's movements were as fast as lightning, and the way her brother fell was so heavy.
That crack seemed to still echo in her ears, making the muscles under her scales tighten. She even forgot to breathe until her chest felt tight, then she took a sharp, quick breath.
The Little Silver Dragon Isanora's narrow silver pupils were full of shock. She subconsciously raised a front claw, only for it to freeze in mid-air.
Laria stepped back half a pace, the red lotus patterns on his scales flickering unsteadily.
Samantha raised an eyebrow, while Sorog looked at Galos thoughtfully.
On the other side, Deborah shook her head slightly but said nothing.
Galos looked down at the Red Young Dragon's corpse, his face showing little expression. His long shadow stretched across the ground, shrouding most of Garcke's body.
The next second, a sudden change occurred.
On Garcke's lifeless body, between the gaps of the dragon scales on the left side of his chest, a brilliant light suddenly flared.
The light was not dazzling, yet it was exceptionally clear, shining through the deep red scales like a heart buried within was beating. The rhythm was steady, and the light rapidly extended from the center of the left chest, spreading along the paths of the Bloodline to the neck, limbs, and tip of the tail, enveloping his entire body in a halo.
The light extended rapidly, shrouding his body.
At the broken neck, flesh and bone made cracking sounds as they grew and healed, quickly resetting and reconnecting.
"Haa—!"
The Red Young Dragon lying on the ground suddenly inhaled a huge breath, his chest heaving violently, like a drowning person finally surfacing.
His tightly closed eyes snapped open, still the same deep red vertical pupils, but the previous arrogance was replaced by a lingering fear, and his pupils were still trembling slightly.
He was alive.
Staggering, Garcke used his front limbs to prop up his body, trying to stand, but his legs went weak and he stumbled, his front claws carving several messy furrows into the ground.
He steadied himself and subconsciously raised a claw to touch his perfectly intact neck, his eyes blank, as if he still couldn't understand what had happened.
Then, he looked at his father.
This time, in the Red Young Dragon's gaze, there was a clear sense of awe.
Galos looked down at him, as if he had long anticipated all of this.
In fact, he had already seen that within the chest of his eldest son, there was a dragon jade of the same origin as his own.
"dragon jade," Galos spoke. "One of my talents, passed down to you in the form of a Bloodline gift. It can give you a chance at Rebirth when you are infinitely close to death."
He paused and took a step forward.
The shadow once again loomed over Garcke, and the Young Dragon couldn't help but shrink his neck.
"But remember, if I can kill you once, I can kill you a hundred times, a thousand times."
"You are alive, and you are at a higher Rank than I was at the same age, only because you inherited my Bloodline and enjoyed my protection," Galos continued. "Without these, what are you? Just an ordinary Red Dragon hatchling. With your arrogance and ignorance, you might have already died in the wilderness or become a meal for some other predator."
Garcke stood there dazed.
His father had truly killed him once.
Without hesitation, cleanly and decisively, without even giving him time to react.
And he was alive not because he was strong, nor because his will was tenacious, but merely because he was lucky enough to inherit this gift.
What if there was no dragon jade?
This thought made his spine go cold.
The helplessness of life slipping away, the despair of consciousness sinking into darkness... those sensations instantly flooded his senses again.
He lowered his head, not daring to look directly into his father's eyes again.
"Raise your head and look at me."
The majestic words came from in front of him.
The Red Young Dragon flinched and timidly raised his head, meeting those deep black eyes.
"Garcke, if you lack awe for the strong and lack awe for life, then die now. I can kill you again, to save you from dying miserably later at the hands of some other powerhouse and disgracing my Bloodline."
Galos asked: "Now, answer me, do you want to live, or do you want to die?"
The Red Young Dragon opened his mouth, his throat dry.
Not a single word of those previous grand boasts could be uttered.
His tongue was frozen in his mouth, his teeth chattering slightly. Finally, he lowered the head he used to always hold high.
"To... to live, Father, I want to live."
His voice was thin and weak, still carrying the tremors of a survivor.
On the clearing, the mountain wind blew, stirring up a cloud of dust, as a few withered leaves swirled through the Young Dragons.
Galos nodded slightly and finally withdrew his oppressive gaze.
He turned to the side, scanning the other offspring, seeing that the shock in their eyes had not yet subsided.
"Remember this feeling."
He said: "Then, carry it with you as you continue to grow stronger. I don't need descendants who can only boast; I need Dragons who can survive and who can uphold this domain."
Garcke slowly stood up from the ground, wagging his tail to restore flexibility to his stiff body.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his still pounding heart.
"I understand what you mean, Father. Thank you for your teachings."
He said, appearing much more well-behaved, even the range of his tail's wagging was restrained.
"Hey, a gemstone, catch. This is a reward for your ambition."
Samantha spoke up cheerfully, breaking the tense atmosphere.
With a flick of her front claw, a deep red gemstone the size of a pigeon's egg flew in an arc.
The Red Young Dragon hurriedly caught it, carefully biting it with his teeth. After confirming its hardness, he hid it under the scales on the side of his neck like a precious treasure.
After receiving the gemstone, his previous negative emotions vanished instantly. His eyes lit up again, and his mood improved visibly.
They were Dragons after all; their love for treasure could dilute almost any gloom.
Galos took all of this in and did not stop it.
He asked leisurely, "What did you understand?"
The Red Young Dragon thought seriously for a few seconds and replied, "Before I truly become stronger than you, I will not attempt to challenge you, nor will I go against your will."
Hearing this, Galos's claws felt itchy again.
This kid still didn't fully understand.
However, enough was as good as a feast. There was no need to rush the education of his offspring; the seed had been planted and needed time to take root and sprout.
Next, Galos stepped toward the Little Iron Dragon.
Seeing him approach, Ophelia instinctively shrank back, but then forced herself to stand still, though her eyes darted around uncertainly.
He asked, "Ophelia, why didn't you stop me just now? You could have at least pleaded for your own kin."
The Little Iron Dragon said timidly, "I... I didn't expect this result... I was stunned..."
"Then," Galos continued to press, his gaze falling on her like something physical, "today, if your brother had died, would you have felt happy or pained?"
Ophelia didn't dare to look at her father's gaze. She lowered her head and stared at her own claws, her voice even lower.
"Pained... pained."
"I actually didn't want anything to happen to my brother. I just wanted to tease him. I didn't think it would turn out like this."
She was telling the truth.
The fun of a prank lay in controlling the situation and enjoying the other party's embarrassed reaction, not in truly wanting to cause a tragedy. She didn't want to see a tragedy happen to her own kin.
That moment of fear just now was real.
If Garcke had truly died, she would have been an accomplice and would have felt immense regret for it.
The Red Iron Dragon said solemnly, "You may have decent intelligence, but the wise are always defeated by their own arrogance."
He raised a front claw and gently tapped the Little Iron Dragon's forehead.
"You cannot predict how the world will change. This is something even the gods find difficult to do."
"You can use your cleverness to play with your kin, but the premise is to have a sense of propriety, because you cannot bear the consequences of a mistake. Today your brother had the dragon jade to protect him, but what about next time? If it were someone else, or yourself, would there be a second chance?"
Ophelia was silent for a moment, her small head hanging even lower.
"I... I understand."
She replied softly.
Finally, Galos looked around, his gaze sweeping over every Young Dragon.
They were of various forms, but his shadow was reflected in all of their eyes.
"The Aura Kingdom belongs to me, and it will also belong to you."
"But no matter what is in your Legacy, no matter how much content there is about betrayal, selfishness, and going it alone, remember, with me, Bloodline must come first."
He said slowly, his voice carrying through the mountains.
"Respect your parents, your elders, and the brothers and sisters beside you."
"You can compete, you can contest, but the bottom line is each other's lives and dignity."
"Fight for yourselves, and also fight for them. If you cannot even trust your own kin, who can you trust? And who do you expect to stand behind you in times of peril?"
The Evil Dragon Legacy was filled with arrogance, betrayal, distrust, and other such content. Those were the experiences of the Evil Dragon ancestors surviving in a harsh environment, but they had also become shackles that bound the race.
Galos wanted to teach his descendants to go against their nature, to understand awe, and to understand the power of unity.
He didn't want to be backstabbed by his own descendants one day, nor did he want to watch them kill each other and destroy the foundation he had worked so hard to build.
Teaching the next generation well was not something that could be done overnight, especially with Evil Dragon descendants. They were naturally proud and self-centered, and these descendants were each exceptionally gifted with astonishing potential, which made it even easier for arrogance to grow.
However, Galos had plenty of patience.
His life was long, and education itself was like polishing jade; it could not be rushed, nor could it be done crudely.
The mountain wind gradually grew stronger, blowing through the grass at the bottom of the valley and over the scales of the Young Dragons.
They listened quietly, some thoughtful, some with eyes flickering, and some still carrying lingering shock.
Garcke occasionally raised a claw to touch his neck, as if confirming that it had truly healed.
He knew he was somewhat different, but he had never thought that he could actually be resurrected. The talent inherited from his father was incredibly strong.
The Little Iron Dragon beside him hesitated for a moment, then used the tip of her tail to gently touch his hind leg.
The Red Young Dragon glanced at her and said nothing, but he didn't move away either.
Galos looked at them, having a premonition that the period before he entered his slumber would probably become quite fulfilling and interesting.