Alberto's bloodshot vertical pupils locked onto Galos, and his massive Dragon wings slightly lifted.
Accompanied by a subtle flicker of alchemical tool light.
One after another, huge treasure chests made of heavy solid wood, with metal reinforcement strips around their edges, appeared as if out of thin air, crashing heavily between the valley cliffs where he stood, emitting dull thuds and raising a cloud of dust.
"This is the original 30% of the debt and interest," Alberto said with a pained expression.
The Red Iron Dragon's gaze calmly swept over the treasure chests, and he nodded slightly.
Almost simultaneously with his nod, a group of well-trained wyverns of various sizes soared from the shadows of the Burning Steel Fortress, snatching up the heavy wooden treasure chests one by one and swiftly transporting them away from the valley cliff.
"These things were originally mine," the Red Iron Dragon said. "Whether you challenge me or not, they would have been returned sooner or later, and cannot be considered an additional stake for this challenge of yours."
"I know," Alberto said. "It's just a partial repayment."
He exhaled, then said in a deep voice:
"If I lose, I will owe you an additional debt equivalent to double the original total amount."
"But if I win, that will be enough to prove that I am already stronger than you. An undeniable strength. A complete transcendence of you."
The Red Iron Dragon's thick neck, covered in heavy scales, now swayed slightly, emitting a faint metallic friction sound.
Indeed.
It had been some time since he had properly stretched his limbs and enjoyed a more intense battle.
However, seeing Alberto's eager demeanor, Galos didn't mind saying a few more words to him.
"Alberto, you seem very eager to win this battle," he said, shaking his head. "The probability of victory, in my eyes, is not high."
"If you lose, it will be even harder for you to clear your debts."
"Are you sure you still want to challenge me?"
The Golden Dragon Gold Dragon Alberto's massive head, covered in golden scales, nodded heavily.
Without any hesitation.
Without any doubt.
As if he had long since cast aside any so-called consequences.
In fact, his willingness to challenge the King of Molten Iron, who was renowned in the Borderlands, despite the risk of increasing his debt, did not stem from ordinary competitiveness.
Its root lay in the almost masochistic Iron Vow he had made five years ago in a moment of youthful recklessness and hot-headedness—that before truly defeating and thoroughly surpassing the Red Iron Dragon Galos, he, Alberto, would abstain from all forms of entertainment and leisure activities, and would wholeheartedly and unreservedly devote himself to training and honing his own limits.
In the first two years, under the constraint and urging of this vow.
Alberto squeezed his potential day after day, night after night. He reveled in the sense of fulfillment brought by this extreme training, enjoying it immensely, filled with soaring fighting spirit and the conviction of victory. It was as if surpassing Galos was just around the corner.
However.
As time flowed mercilessly into the third year, his enthusiasm began to wane.
A deep sense of fatigue, like a creeping vine, quietly entwined his body and mind.
He began to yearn to relax his taut nerves, even if only to briefly gaze at the stars or lazily bask in the sun.
But.
Because in order to strengthen his resolve, he had made the vow too absolute, too cruel.
Let alone entertainment and relaxation.
Even the most basic, sufficient rest time became a luxurious wish.
The Holy Dragon's proud recovery ability.
Now, it had become a curse.
Every time he trained himself to exhaustion, collapsing like a lump of mud, it wasn't long before the vow would immediately transform into invisible flames, forcing him to get up as if his back was on fire and immediately throw himself back into honing.
What tormented him even more was that.
His grand ambitions, his dream of forging perfect golden laws—all these magnificent blueprints for the future could now only be thought about and constructed in the pitifully brief rest intervals squeezed out under the vow's compulsion, like toothpaste, seizing every available moment.
The entire Dragon was like a spinning top whipped by an invisible lash, never idle for a moment.
For five years, a full five years!
He was so busy that he almost doubted the meaning of Dragon life.
Even his inherent obsessive nature had been worn down and diluted significantly by this endless honing.
Finally—
He had endured until today, five years later.
Alberto could no longer tolerate it, and a voice deep within him roared:
After these five years of hellish, extreme tempering.
The potential of the noble Golden Dragon blood flowing within him had been squeezed to its limit, exploited to its maximum.
He had grown immensely compared to five years ago.
With his potential, with his talent, with his continuous efforts over these five years… at this moment, he might not be weaker than the Red Iron Dragon.
"I have made up my mind!" Alberto's voice was decisive: "Galos, accept my challenge."
As his voice fell.
Alberto's sharp foreclaws, covered in thick golden scales, carved several bottomless ravines into the hard valley cliffs, like a hot knife through butter.
His robust limbs suddenly bent, muscles instantly tensing and bulging like adamantine cables.
His entire massive and heavy Dragon body pressed down slightly, like a giant golden bow drawn to its limit.
The entire Dragon was poised, an arrow on the string, ready to strike with the force of thunder.
"Then, come, Challenger."
Galos's voice remained calm, announcing the start of the challenge.
Whoosh—!
The Red Iron Dragon's formidable Dragon wings, which covered the sky, suddenly spread wide.
With just a seemingly casual flap, a fierce hurricane formed out of thin air.
Immediately after, he transformed into a crimson meteor tearing through the sky, soaring straight up without any fanfare, piercing the high and vast firmament.
"I must win," the Golden Dragon Gold Dragon Alberto roared in his heart.
Buzz—!
Buzz—!
Two sacred and majestic lights suddenly illuminated.
A crown symbolizing authority, flowing with brilliant golden light, instantly appeared upon his high-held head. The Holy Oath Halberd, symbolizing the will to conquer and inscribed with ancient vows, also shone with dazzling light, condensed from pure energy, and was firmly grasped in his massive Dragon claws.
The fully armed Young Dragon was bathed in sacred radiance.
His huge golden Dragon wings also flapped with full force at this moment, and the entire Dragon transformed into a golden lightning bolt tearing through the sky, following closely, charging valiantly into the turbulent, boundless heavens.
At the same time.
Apart from the Crimson-Silver Dragon Deborah, who still stood at the edge of the fourth-floor observation deck of the Burning Steel Fortress, her slender Dragon claws elegantly resting above her brow bone, looking up as if watching a play.
In the training ground below.
The White Dragon Teresa had already paused her "education" of the two Young Dragons.
She was now watching with great interest, alongside the Black Dragon Seraphina, who had just gotten up from the ground, and the thoughtful Green Dragon Ludwig, as they all focused on the two figures in the high sky that were about to collide.
"The Golden Dragon's ecological niche is indeed very high in the mainstream Dragon lineage," the White Dragon Teresa analyzed calmly in her mind.
"In the eyes of other races, and even before most Five-Color Dragons and Metallic Dragons, they naturally appear majestic, sacred, and noble."
"But—"
A silent sneer escaped her heart.
"—he insists on challenging Galos, the Red Iron Dragon, whose ecological niche is essentially higher than his."
"A lower-ranking challenging a higher-ranking will probably only result in another crushing and humiliating defeat."
She didn't need to see the process; she already foresaw the outcome.
"Hmph, an ignorant Golden Dragon," the Green Dragon Ludwig's slender, long, emerald-green tail swished, emitting a disdainful sneer. "The great King of Molten Iron will soon beat him into begging for mercy," he said in a low voice.
Beside him, the Black Dragon Seraphina, who had just struggled to get up from the ground, echoed with a silent nod.