Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

It didn’t take long for the four little dragons to tear the entire giant elephant apart; their swollen bellies finally brought a long-missed sense of satisfaction.

Feeling the pleasant fullness in their bellies, the young dragons lazily sprawled on the ground, enjoying this rare, post-meal moment of ease.

But the tranquility lasted less than a minute before the White Dragon’s cold voice exploded like thunder once more.

“Who gave you permission to rest?!” Trixie swung her dragon wings violently, whipping up a biting cold wind that swept over the little dragons. They shivered all over and instantly sobered up. “Get up, all of you!”

She let out a low, rumbling dragon roar.

The ogres that had been waiting nearby immediately lugged over huge, unbearably heavy metal blocks, one by one.

Under the puzzled, bewildered gazes of the little dragons, Trixie commanded icily, “Treat these lumps of metal as your enemies! Treat your own bodies as weapons! Ram them!”

She had witnessed Garoth’s brutal, almost masochistic training methods with her own eyes.

She had tried them herself a few times, but quickly gave up because the monotony and pain were unbearable.

Still, using a similar approach to “train” these overactive little brats was perfectly appropriate.

Using their bodies to smash into hard iron stones? It was tantamount to self-harm!

The little dragons hesitated, faces full of reluctance and resistance; none of them moved immediately.

“Have you never seen when the Redwing Lord Garoth descends from the sky? Have you never felt that meteor-like impact and unparalleled ferocity?”

Trixie’s voice suddenly rose, and she said, “He struck rocks and earth day and night, countless times until his body was covered in wounds, his scales repeatedly shattered and peeled off, his muscles and bones torn and mended again and again—only through that endless cycle of ripping pain and healing was that terrifying, iron-strong body forged!”

“Aren’t you all hoping to one day stamp me under your feet? Don’t you crave to become the uniquely powerful dragons of the world?”

She lifted her tail and pointed the sharp tip precisely at the cold metal blocks: “Then stop talking—start by ramming them!”

Hearing Trixie’s fiercely provocative words, especially the promise of “stamping me under your feet,” the red dragon Kahir was the first to bristle with unwillingness.

She gathered all her strength like a burning cannonball and slammed into the largest chunk of iron.

Clang!

A deafening crash rang out. Kahir was staggered by the massive recoil, her scales instantly cracking in several places, and faint spiderweb-like cracks appeared across the hard iron block’s surface.

Then a dull, continuous series of impacts echoed across the training ground.

The young dragons clenched their sharp teeth and endured the agony, repeatedly using their not-yet-fully-grown bodies to violently crash into those cold, hard iron stones.

Whenever they felt exhausted and on the verge of collapse, barely able to catch their breath, the merciless White Dragon would haul them up again and force them to fly with burdens, continuing to train the critical skills of flight and endurance.

Although the intensity of the training could never match Garoth’s inhuman standards, Trixie had essentially copied Garoth’s methods and devised a draconian training plan for the hatchlings.

Whoosh!

A violent gust swept in and the ground was cast under a massive shadow.

Red dragon Samantha and iron dragon Sorog circled briefly at low altitude before landing steadily on the wide high platform on the third level of Scorchsteel Fortress.

Sorog’s gaze swept downward and lingered for a moment on the dragons undergoing arduous training before he withdrew his stare and walked with measured steps into the fortress.

“Come to the council hall.”

His low, penetrating voice echoed directly in the minds of several dragons.

The little dragons looked up, their eyes fixed on the towering, vast, steel fortress that seemed to glow with heat—Scorchsteel Fortress.

They steadied their scattered thoughts and, led by White Dragon Trixie, flapped their wings and flew toward the high platform on the third level.

Scorchsteel Fortress—inside the grand council hall.

As the little dragons entered the huge chamber in sequence, several elder dragons were already waiting.

Red dragon Samantha and iron dragon Sorog occupied stone platforms on either side of the hall. In the deepest part of the chamber, on a golden imperial throne symbolizing supreme authority, sat the fierce and commanding Lord of Molten Iron.

What shook the little dragons and made them uneasy was this:

in the core council of the Five-colored Dragons, there was also a mixed-blood metal dragon radiating metallic dragon qi seated among them.

This dragon’s massive body even surpassed that of Samantha and Sorog.

Rooted hostility and vigilance embedded in the hatchlings’ blood made them instinctively want to emit threatening low roars, but the solemn, grave atmosphere in the council hall suppressed them; they forced themselves to hold back.

Though filled with great curiosity and confusion, none of the elder dragons explained why a mixed metal dragon was present here.

“Sit.”

On the golden throne, the red iron dragon spoke calmly; his voice reverberated through the cavernous hall.

The council chamber was enormous and wide. The new hatchlings followed instructions and sat upon massive stone platforms big enough for adult dragons. Their eyes inevitably focused on the red iron dragon on the throne.

“Sorog, discuss your concrete arrangements for them first.”

After saying this, the red iron dragon slightly closed his eyes as if entering a restorative state.

Sorog bowed his head briefly, then shifted his gaze to the hatchlings and juvenile dragons below.

He weighed his words and, in a tone that brooked no dispute, said, “Dragon Valley provides you with shelter and the food needed to survive; in return, you must shoulder your responsibilities and serve the future of Dragon Valley.”

He emphasized his words and scanned each young dragon with his gaze: “Do you all clearly understand this?”

Blue Dragon Heriam, Red Dragon Kahir, Green Dragon Ludwig, Black Dragon Seraphina.

Under Sorog’s imposing stare, the four hatchlings nodded one after another to indicate their understanding.

“Good. I’ll get straight to the point.”

Sorog didn’t beat around the bush and announced plainly: “You must fight the laziness and slackness of your nature. Given Dragon Valley’s current development needs, you must immediately choose and determine the first professional path you will officially take.”

His eyes first landed on Black Dragon Seraphina and Green Dragon Ludwig.

“Black Dragon—your nature enjoys toying with the body and the power of death; you are innately skilled at dealing with the undead and the domain of death. In the convergence lands there is no shortage of corpse resources, therefore the Necromancer path suits you best. Once you take that path and achieve a certain proficiency, you will be entrusted with an important task concerning the tribe’s future.”

“Green Dragon—you are born with the instinct to command and harness nature. The Druid path will allow you to draw power from the vast natural world. In the future you can play a key role in Dragon Valley’s agriculture and animal husbandry, providing indispensable foundation work. This is the path most suitable for you. After you succeed in taking the role, you, like Seraphina, will shoulder a crucial task.”

Garoth had already talked with Sorog about the Dragonforged Warriors transformation plan.

This could greatly strengthen the Molten Iron Tribe’s foundations. Sorog took it seriously, and to optimize dragon-blood transformation, research into life and soul was indispensable.

Natural dragons and death dragons excelled in those respective fields.

Black and green hatchlings had no objections to Sorog’s assignments.

Choosing a career path is a huge matter for short-lived species and requires careful deliberation, but for dragons with their long lives, it was less critical—they could master multiple paths over time.

Moreover, the Necromancer and Druid paths were naturally suitable for Black and Green Dragons.

“As for the two of you.”

Sorog’s gaze turned to Blue Dragon Heriam and Red Dragon Kahir.

“Heriam, you must fully utilize your innate storm talent and become a Storm Sorcerer who controls lightning and tempests and manipulates celestial phenomena. This will be the best manifestation of your power. In the future, the complex, variable weather regulation and utilization work in the convergence lands will fall under your full responsibility.”

“Kahir, your raging fury can also be transformed into a source of power. Choose the ‘Wild Dragon’ path—a route full of primal savagery. The Molten Iron Tribe currently lacks a role that fully demonstrates draconic ferocity and awe-inspiring intimidation; this position is perfectly suited for you to display your nature.”

Blue Dragon Heriam nodded steadily, accepting the task.

Red Dragon Kahir emitted a suppressed, excited low roar; her dragon pupils flashed with eager light.

Druid, Necromancer, Storm… Wild Dragon—these choices were both a response to Dragon Valley’s urgent developmental needs and an optimization based on each dragon’s innate talents.

“Druid, Necromancer, Storm.”

“These three paths require only proper meditation accumulation to take up,” Sorog said. “But becoming a Wild Dragon will require rage—fury, wrath, uncontrollable rage.” He turned to White Dragon Trixie: “Besides overseeing their meditation, I’m entrusting you with the task of getting Kahir to accept the role quickly.”

Trixie solemnly nodded her massive head when she heard this.

Then she uncurled her huge mouth and fixed a malicious, teasing grin on the red dragon Kahir below.

This task was tailor-made for her kind of “fun.”

After making the initial career arrangements, Nurturer Trixie led the four young dragons out of the solemn Scorchsteel Fortress council hall and back to the compacted training ground outside to continue her harsh instruction and drills.

“Before true war breaks out, they should all be able to reach the Young Adult dragon stage.”

When the hatchlings disappeared through the door, Sorog turned his gaze back to the red iron dragon on the golden throne and said with conviction, “By then, they will become indispensable pillars supporting the Molten Iron Tribe.”

The tribe had long suffered from a severe shortage of mid- and high-level combat strength.

Once these four talented dragons grew, the problem would be solved.

With more usable dragon talent, Sorog would no longer have to personally handle everything as he had in the past.

“When will we finally march into the Ser Wilderness, Garoth?”

Red dragon Samantha could no longer contain her impatience. She licked her sharp dragon lips with her crimson tongue and asked eagerly.

Ever since their brief return to the wilderness and the successful destruction of that dwarf outpost, the urge to return to that vast land and run wild had burned in her like a roaring wildfire.

“Now is not the best time.”

The red iron dragon’s steady voice sounded with undeniable authority. “But this waiting will not be long.”

He raised his rugged head, and his dragon pupils seemed to pierce through Scorchsteel Fortress’s thick steel walls as he gazed silently toward the distant south, overlooking the broad land called the Ser Wilderness.

“Last time we attacked the Blackrock Duchy’s outpost in the wilderness, we did not see any decent pursuers afterward.”

Garoth said, “That in itself is a signal—the attention the Federation states pay to the border wilderness is markedly decreasing.”

He paused slightly, then dropped a weightier piece of information: “Not only that—just a few days ago, I obtained a vital piece of intelligence from Gordon.”

He scanned the dragons present and said gravely, “The Lothrian Kingdom has recalled its legendary forces that had long been stationed at the Ser Wilderness frontier.”

Before Samantha fully grasped the implication, Sorog’s eyes shot open, radiating intense light.

“The Lothrian Kingdom recalled its legendary forces…”

“To cope with the enormous pressure and potential threat from Lothrian, neighboring kingdoms will very likely follow suit and also withdraw their top border and wilderness forces to the more central conflict zones!”

He concluded resolutely: “When the southern nations’ fires truly ignite and the legendary forces have no time for peripheral concerns, that will be the best opportunity for us to advance into the Ser Wilderness, to seize the spoils and claim the gains!”

The Ser Wilderness lies beyond the southern nations’ borders and technically doesn’t belong to any single nation; it’s viewed by the great powers as a communal backyard to be freely divided for resources and outposts.

When a nation’s homeland is calm and prosperous, the frontier garrisons in the wilderness are often well-equipped and filled with elites, making them very formidable.

However, when the continent’s situation suddenly changes and war clouds gather, nations will concentrate their strength on the looming core storm and withdraw their top forces from secondary areas like the wilderness, redeploying them to more critical and dangerous frontlines.

As a result, wilderness garrisons, while still not trivial, will be much weaker compared to their peak strength—creating opportunities for monsters and opportunists.

“Exactly! Sorog and I are in full agreement!”

After a brief silence, Samantha nodded her head emphatically and voiced her hearty agreement.