Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Deep within the vast and perilous convergence lands, Dragon Valley rose in solemn majesty.

The biting wind and blizzard could not pierce the towering, solid barriers of the valley. Only scattered snowflakes, like sifted fragments of jade, drifted down to dot this dragon habitat.

White Dragon Trixie retrieved the now-dimmed communication device and tucked it back into the warm, secure layer beneath the neck scales.

She lifted her head slightly and looked toward the screaming wind and snow above. Her mood was very pleased, and she could not help but emit a low, satisfied rumble from her throat.

“Garoth has always valued that batch of black oil crystals highly.”

Trixie lightly swished her tail, thoughts racing as she probed the leader’s deeper intent.

“If something so crucial and precious was specifically entrusted to me to escort, doesn’t that mean that in Garoth’s mind my status and reliability already surpass the other dragons?”

“He must have seen my value, and he values me even more now!”

To Trixie, although she did not participate as frequently as other dragons in frontline tribal warfare, her work educating and training the younger generation was also a grueling and vital task.

She firmly believed that her contributions to the tribe and the future of the entire dragon host were indispensable.

Her worth was immeasurable!

“If it weren’t for my careful guidance and strict discipline, how could the young dragons of the tribe so quickly shed their naivety and grow strong?”

“Without me, the host would fall apart.”

“With Garoth’s wisdom, he must be absolutely certain of this.”

Trixie thought.

Take the current new generation of adolescent dragons, for example.

Their excellence now, and their ability to contribute to the Molten Iron Tribe’s efforts in the wilderness wars, in her view, was entirely inseparable from her past efforts.

Perhaps her methods were unorthodox, but results mattered more.

On the other hand,

Thinking of the increasingly powerful dragon host and the tribe’s rapid expansion—both closely tied to her contributions—White Dragon Trixie proudly puffed out her chest covered in thick white scales.

Then,

to validate this and satisfy her sense of accomplishment,

she turned her head and fixed her gaze on a young white dragon not far away who was training with a heavy load.

Trixie straightened, radiating the imposing presence of a mature dragon, creating an aura of authority that did not need anger to enforce itself.

In a calm but indisputable tone she said, “Belquis, answer me. On your path of growth so far, have I not been the most important and most influential presence?”

Belquis, the young white dragon, had been hoisting a massive boulder as part of his training.

At the sound of the mature dragon’s familiar, heart-stirring voice, he dared not slacken for a moment. He immediately paused, set the rock down.

The huge stone crashed to the ground, spraying ice dust.

He lowered his head slightly, avoiding that oppressive gaze, and replied in a quiet voice: “…Y-Yes.”

White dragons are by nature wild and hard to tame; young white dragons should be as uncontrollable and rebellious as undomesticated beasts.

Objectively, Trixie’s instruction had indeed been effective enough to make this adolescent white dragon react with such reverence when facing her.

However, Trixie was not satisfied with that overly simple answer.

“Stupid fool! Who told you to stop? Continue! No slacking!”

The mature white dragon’s tail lashed like a whip, slicing through the air with a tearing sound and striking the young white dragon.

Amid the dull impact, the young dragon was sent down to one knee and slammed heavily against a cold rock wall.

Trixie continued to rebuke: “Didn’t I teach you? When speaking to a being of higher ecological niche, you must use respectful language! Show reverence! Answer again, while you train!”

Struck and insulted without warning, Belquis’s muscles tensed instinctively, and a threatening low snarl rose in his throat.

The white dragon’s innate wildness was stirred.

Even facing a powerful adult, his sharp fangs bared reflexively, glinting coldly.

Yet, just as fury threatened to break through the dam of reason, countless images of past rebellions that had been met with harsher punishment flashed through his mind like lightning.

He forced the boiling anger down, suppressing his instinct to strike back deep within his chest.

Silently, the young white dragon lifted the heavy rock again and continued the monotonous, painful training.

He kept his head down, avoiding Trixie’s gaze, swallowing his resentment, and replied as respectfully as he could: “Great Pale Wing, you are the most important guiding dragon on my path of growth. You are irreplaceable.”

“Your teachings are as profound as ice and snow. I will always remember your favor.”

Hearing such reverent words, Trixie finally nodded in satisfaction.

“Listen up, you weak, foolish, and clueless crawlers!”

She glanced around, eyes sweeping past several adolescent dragons who were either training or standing by silently, and the youngerlings. Her tone rose as she proclaimed her truth.

“Remember your ecological positions! Carve it into your bones!”

“When facing a being of higher ecological niche, only when it is absolutely necessary, when you must fight to the death—then fight.”

“You only have two choices.”

“Either, wisely choose to keep your distance and avoid the storm’s center.”

“Or set your attitude right, be more respectful, show submission and deference.”

She curled the very tail that had just struck the white dragon and said, “Otherwise, you’ll suffer consequences like what just happened. Bear responsibility for whatever painful attacks might come! Pay with blood.”

After completing her routine instruction for the young dragons, Trixie felt greatly satisfied.

She did not linger further. Taking the black oil crystals, she vibrated her wings, sending snow and ice shards scattering, ascended, and flew out of Dragon Valley toward the Ser Wilderness.

The undulating mountains and forests of the complex terrain helped the vast Ser Wilderness resist cold incursions from the far north.

As the white dragon flew steadily southward away from the valley, the all-encompassing snowfall that had pleased her gradually weakened and then ceased. She entered the skies above the wilderness.

It was the rainy season in the wilderness now.

Though there was no heavy snow, the rain pouring from the dense dark clouds still felt quite pleasant to Trixie, a white dragon of the host—certainly far more comfortable than a dry, scorching environment.

Time slipped by in the sounds of wind and rain.

Her massive white form cut through the downpour as she steadily approached the coordinates Garoth had given.

Meanwhile, in the Ser Wilderness.

On a relatively flat patch of wasteland not far from Needleleaf Valley, rainwater collected into small streams and trickled across the uneven ground.

Four adolescent dragons stood in the rain, water droplets running off their scales.

“Heriam, Kahir.”

Green Dragon Ludwig greeted the two companions who had arrived earlier than him.

His gaze swept over the scales covering his two companions, paused for a moment, and said, “I haven’t seen you for a few days. It seems the fighting on the front has been intense.”

“You’ve got so many new scars.”

To dragons, scars are not derogatory.

Through repeated injuries in battle, dragon scales are torn and damaged, then repaired again and again.

Over time, those intertwined, deep scars and scale growth traces transform into unique patterns symbolizing honor, strength, and extensive combat experience—Battle-Hardened Patterns.

They are marks of power.

For example, their leader.

When the red iron dragon’s outer heavy scales shattered and peeled away in fierce combat, revealing the complex, web-like battle-hardened patterns that spread across his body,

that sight, even if seen many times, still delivered a tremendous shock to them every single time.

“Hmph.”

Red Dragon Kahir snorted twin plumes of searing white breath, sparks leaping within. She grinned with a wild, provocative smile.

“These are the glory marks left by war! Proof of strength!”

She paused, then raised her head arrogantly and looked disdainfully at the black dragon and the green dragon: “You two weaklings who aren’t qualified to join frontal warfare keep your scales so well-maintained.”

“You look just like those pampered metal dragons who haven’t experienced blood and annihilation.”

In fact, the black and green dragons bore many damaged and intertwined old and new scars.

Those were the marks left from their recent purge of the undead lair.

But Kahir ignored this entirely, pride written on her face, her words laced with contempt.

Neither the revenge-minded Seraphina nor the usually cautious Ludwig responded or explained to Kahir’s belittling and provocative words.

“Kahir is a red-skin Wild Dragon, hot-tempered and explosive. The point is, her combat power among peers is indeed strong.”

“Right now, provoking her brings no benefit—only getting beaten for nothing, and that’s pointless.”

“Lay low and wait. Once our strength improves and our ecological niches outrank Kahir’s, we’ll find a chance to get even properly—with interest!”

The two dragons exchanged a conspiratorial look, silently reaching that consensus.

After all, both had been nurtured under Trixie’s ecological niche doctrine.

Even if their personal grasp and practice couldn’t reach Trixie’s level, they would not, like totally uneducated wild dragons, recklessly ignore strength differences and consequences, letting hot blood make them seek a life-or-death fight over some insult.

“Ludwig and Seraphina each have their duties and missions.”

At that moment, blue dragon Heriam shook his head slightly and spoke objectively: “Relying solely on war and conquest cannot run a large tribe well.”

“Logistics, threat cleanup, intelligence, resource prospecting… those tasks are equally important.”

He said seriously to Kahir, “Your view is too one-sided.”

Among the four adolescent dragons, red Kahir was too belligerent and straightforward; black Seraphina was gloomy and vindictive at times; green Ludwig could be overly cautious and indecisive.

By contrast,

Blue Dragon Heriam tended to think more comprehensively and logically from the tribe and host’s overall interest.

For that reason he was a focus of Iron Dragon Sorog’s attention and cultivation.

“Hmph!”

Kahir expelled stronger flame and black smoke from her nostrils to show her displeasure, but she did not argue with Heriam.

On one hand, she could not win an argument with his clear thinking.

On the other, and more importantly, she could not beat him.

Although wild red dragons should be stronger than storm blue dragons at similar ages, a series of private duels had shown she was not Heriam’s match.

Heriam’s individual talent made up for species-value gaps among different dragon types.

Moreover, though begrudgingly, Kahir had accepted ecological niche teachings.

She was still the kind who loved fighting, but she had subconsciously learned some principles of seeking benefit and avoiding harm.

For the black and green dragons she considered below her, she could insult and provoke at will; but for the blue Heriam, who outranked her ecologically… she wouldn’t pick a fight.

Once she became stronger and the niches reversed, she would crush him and trample him underfoot, humiliating him utterly—she thought viciously to herself.

“By the way, does anyone know why the leader suddenly summoned all four of us together?” Ludwig flicked rain from his tail and asked, puzzled.

His question broke the brief silence.

Since arriving in the wilderness, it was rare for them—each on different tasks—to be gathered at the same time.

Heriam shook his right wing, shaking off accumulated rain, and answered: “When the leader told me, he only said we’d performed well recently and that we’d be given a reward.”

“But he didn’t say what the specific reward would be.”

All the adolescent dragons felt anticipation at this unknown reward from the host leader, momentarily forgetting their small quarrels.

“What could it be?”

“Mountains of gold coins? Shiny gems or some powerful alchemical gear? Or… permission to lead our own troop?”

The young dragons craned their necks in the drizzling rain, eyes occasionally scanning the sky.

Soon after,

whoosh—!

A violent wind swept through first!

It skewed the steady rain into whipping arrows.

Puddles on the ground were lifted into fine spray by the gusts.

The adolescent dragons sensed it and all looked up at once.

A meteor tore through the dim rain curtain, closing in at terrifying speed, its pressure making the surrounding rain seem to part. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

In the blink of an eye the blurred figure sharpened.

A formidable, majestic dragon silhouette appeared above them and descended swiftly.

Boom!

The heavy thudding landing made the earth seem to tremble. Invisible pressure spread outward.

“Great Lord of Molten Iron, Heriam is here to pay you the highest respects.”

The blue dragon bowed first and spoke with reverence.

“Leader!”

“Salutations to you, noble Redwing Lord!”

..........

Red Dragon Kahir, Green Dragon Ludwig, and Black Dragon Seraphina followed suit, dropping their heads and adopting deferential postures, expressing the deepest awe and respect to the host leader in their own ways.

Cold rain streamed down their lowered necks.

“Heriam, Kahir, you fought bravely in the northwest and achieved impressive results.”

The red iron dragon’s gaze swept the blue and red dragons, then turned to the other two: “Ludwig, Seraphina, your task of clearing and remolding the undead lair is also important. It concerns our foundational strength and future development, and your progress has been good.”

He did not spare his praise.

“In light of your recent performance…”

The red iron dragon paused slightly, and the four adolescent dragons’ hearts leapt to their throats.

“…I have summoned you here to give you the proper reward.”

At that, the young dragons brightened immediately, their eyes seeming to glow.

Impatient Kahir could not help stepping forward half a pace and asked eagerly, “Leader, what is the exact reward? Gems? Or permission to lead our own legion?”

The red iron dragon did not answer directly. He slowly raised his enormous head and looked to the clouded sky.

He sat like a sculpture of steel on the ground, maintaining a mountain-like dignity, and said: “Just in time, she has arrived.”

“What is the reward… you’ll see for yourselves.”

Following the leader’s gaze with curiosity and expectation, the adolescent dragons looked up.

Through the rain, another gradually clarifying snowy-white figure streaked toward them, reflected in their widening vertical pupils.

It was the mature white dragon—Trixie.

Seeing her arrival, the adolescent dragons first showed surprise in unison, faces registering confusion as to why she would appear here.

Then,

a long-buried but never fully extinguished ember of emotion was instantly ignited.

Scenes of past times when this white dragon, using her age advantage to repeatedly educate, insult, and suppress them resurgent in their minds like tides.

The memories were vivid and clear.

They almost simultaneously grinned.

Their mouths stretched into smiles that mixed many emotions.

Even usually calm and rational blue Heriam could not suppress a flush of excitement; his breathing unconsciously deepened, muscles tensing slightly.

They understood in an instant.

The leader’s promised reward was not coins, gems, or magical items.

It was something more coveted than any material—a chance to publicly avenge past humiliation!