Translator: AnubisTL
Needleleaf Valley, Sulfur Pool.
Garos tossed chunk after chunk of red copper ore into the pool.
This ore, found throughout the valley, was a fire-attribute metal. When it came into contact with the sulfur pool, it reacted violently, producing intense heat. The earthstorm bears had previously used red copper to enhance the pool's effects, making it boil more vigorously and generate even more steam.
Sizzle! Sizzle! Sizzle!
As the ore hit the water, the pool immediately began bubbling continuously, hissing and bubbling as its temperature rose steadily.
Garos didn't jump into the pool to soak.
Instead, he raised his dragon wings, which were coated in serpent dragon poison blood, and held them horizontally above the sulfur pool, allowing the steam to blast against the areas riddled with holes from the corrosive blood.
The hot, moist steam—
—penetrated every crevice, seeping into the blood holes on his wings. The searing pain made the corner of Garos's mouth twitch slightly.
Ordinary heat didn't bother him.
Thanks to the Blessing of Fire, his fire resistance had recently surpassed its previous peak after an initial decline. He could now basically ignore standard fire damage.
But this steam was a hybrid attack.
The pain was indescribable, a fusion of the Kagallos' water-type damage and the burning agony of the snake venom. If one had to describe it, it was like having a mouth full of painful canker sores and then taking a spoonful of chili powder, the tongue thoroughly coating each sore with the fiery dust.
"Even if this attempt fails, it should increase my water resistance somewhat."
The agony was even more unbearable during these non-combat moments. Garos' tail thrashed wildly, and his dragon wings trembled uncontrollably.
Yet his eyes blazed with fierce determination as he spread his wings wide, enduring the searing steam.
"Pain? I am the master of this body."
"Submit, you pathetic sensation!"
"This isn't pain—it's exhilaration! This is exactly what I want."
Garos grinned wolfishly and tossed another chunk of red copper ore into the sulfur pool, intensifying the steam's heat and density. The agony made his teeth clench, but he refused to budge his wings.
Fairy Dragon Vera and Red Dragon Samantha exchanged glances, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.
"Garos has become even more twisted," Vera murmured.
"To torture himself like this... ordinary pain no longer satisfies him," Samantha said, silently retreating a few steps from the steaming area.
"When did this... condition of Garos' begin?" Vera asked, her brow furrowed. "Could he have developed some kind of dragon mental illness?"
Dragonkind possess highly developed brains, allowing them to perceive the fundamental nature of the world.
However, this also makes them susceptible to mental illness.
Infinite gluttony, extreme legalism, and wandering far from their lairs are all forms of dragonkind mental illness. Garos's symptoms were unusual, but the fairy dragon felt they resembled the early signs of such a condition.
"As far as I remember, he's always been like this," Samantha said, stroking her horny chin thoughtfully. "This isn't mental illness; it's some kind of fetish. My inheritance mentions that some intelligent beings enjoy the sensation of injury and pain."
"Garos must be like that—the more his body hurts, the more he relishes it."
The fairy dragon's eyes lit up with understanding. "As expected of Garos, always so unique. Even his fetishes are bizarre."
Garos's mind was locked in a battle against the pain, completely unaware of the two dragons' conversation.
Had he noticed, he would have swooped down and slapped them both, making them pay for their slander!
He had to visit Crescent Moon Valley in three days. If the Howling Moon Clan's werewolves refused to negotiate, a fight would be necessary. This time, Garos only gave a brief taste of his power before stopping.
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, three days had arrived.
Garos had mostly recovered, so he soared into the sky and flew toward Crescent Moon Valley.
To be safe, two days earlier, he had ordered Mobel to lead most of the earthstorm bears toward Crescent Moon Valley. Garos didn't need them to attack, only to station themselves at intervals along the perimeter, hidden from view.
This way, if negotiations with the Howling Moon Clan went poorly, they would have a much higher chance of completely annihilating the werewolf tribe with the earthstorm bears' coordinated encirclement, leaving no member alive.
Meanwhile, in Crescent Moon Valley, the Howling Moon Clan was gathered within their territory, awaiting the dragon's arrival. The old shaman, chieftain, and a group of adult graymane werewolves stood waiting. Some of the werewolves bore fresh wounds, and while the number of giant wolves in the clan had increased, the werewolf population had correspondingly decreased.
These past ten days had been tumultuous for the Howling Moon Clan. Both the old shaman and the chieftain, the clan's highest leaders, leaned toward submission and loyalty to the dragonkind. From their elevated positions, bearing the greatest pressure, they understood the immense difficulty of leading their people to survival in the wilderness. After poring over ancient texts within the clan that documented dragonkind, they realized that Garos was likely only a young dragon, yet he had slain the evil serpent they considered their greatest enemy. Such a feat far surpassed that of ordinary dragonkind.
Following a young dragon with such extraordinary potential...
This was a good choice for the wild clan.
Moreover, Garos's final act of kindness convinced them that he was not the cruel, bloodthirsty evil dragon they had feared.
However, opinions within the clan remained divided. Some werewolves, still haunted by the shadow of the cliff serpent dragon, adamantly refused to let another wolf into their den.
Soon, these differing views hardened into factions.
The once peaceful discussions grew increasingly heated.
In the graymane werewolf tradition, might made right. Since they couldn't reach a consensus through discussion, they resorted to combat. The strongest would ultimately have their way.
Thus, to determine the clan's future direction, a group of werewolves with the same goal but different ideas clashed in a duel at this critical juncture. The shaman and chieftain's faction emerged victorious.
Those who lost the duel, according to the Howling Moon Clan's tradition, willingly transformed into giant wolves, abandoning their intelligence to embrace primal instinct and instinctual thinking. Under the leadership of other werewolves, they continued to guard the clan.
Whoosh!
A piercing shriek echoed from the distance, growing closer with each passing moment.
To demonstrate his power, Garos once again streaked across the sky like a crimson meteor, descending upon the Howling Moon Clan's territory.
His gaze swept over the werewolves, finally settling on the old shaman.
Garos smiled faintly and said, "What have you decided? Will you choose to follow under my wings and walk a brighter path, or will you refuse my offer and continue to struggle for survival in the wilderness?"
The old shaman was the first to bow his head and kneel before Garos.
"Noble and mighty dragonkind, it is the honor of the Howling Moon Clan to pledge our loyalty to you."
"From this day forward, the Howling Moon Clan will become your familiar, offering you unwavering devotion. Wherever you tread, the wolves of the Howling Moon will follow."
As if a switch had been flipped, the werewolves one by one prostrated themselves before Garos.
Thus, Garos gained his first intelligent creature as a familiar.
The process went smoothly, as if it were the natural course of events.
Soon after, Garos noticed a change in the number of giant wolves and werewolves within the Howling Moon Clan.
"What is the meaning of these newly appeared giant wolves?" he asked the old shaman.
The old shaman's gaze was complex as he slowly explained, "These were once warriors who opposed the decision. Now, stripped of their wisdom, they have become beasts, guarding the clan in a different way."
He then recounted the specific events to Garos.
This left Garos with a mixture of reflection and contemplation.
He had merely presented a choice and then disregarded the Howling Moon Clan's response, waiting only for the final outcome.
Yet, in their struggle to make that decision, the Howling Moon Clan had endured an internal conflict within those ten short days.
This further reinforced Garos's understanding of the critical importance of strength in this world of the strong devouring the weak.
A single thought, a whim of a powerful being, could determine the fate of the weak, either granting them a new life or plunging them into the abyss.
Meanwhile, in the northern Sierre Wilderness, between the wildlands and the Permafrost Tundra, at Red Maple Ridge...
A red copper dragon soared into the sky.
"You evil hybrid dragon! I will find you, defeat you, capture you, train you, and make you a good dragon!"
Clad in new armor and having undergone over half a year of rigorous training, the red copper dragon, brimming with fighting spirit, ascended to the heavens.
(End of the Chapter)
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