Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

“I hereby declare the victor of this final match—Garoth Ignas!”

After a brief silence, the legendary Brass Dragon announcer’s piercing voice rose again, more triumphant and impassioned than before, cutting clearly into every dragon’s ears.

He stood amid the sea, and with a crushing, indisputable victory he proved to us that he fully deserved to have long-standing tournament rules altered for him! He fully deserved to stand directly on this ultimate stage of glory!

“Now, let us offer the proper cheers for this splendid triumph of the red-and-iron dragon!”

Yet silence still shrouded large swathes of the sky.

Many metal dragons stared at the red iron dragon hovering in the air, momentarily struck dumb, unable to accept the outcome right away.

Just then—

“Garoth! Hail!”

“What! The red-iron dragon is invincible!”

“I knew it! You absolutely flattened that guy!”

Brass-silver dragon Deborah, the faerie dragon Vira, and Gold Dragons Nasha and Alberto... especially the exuberant shouts from the faerie dragon and Alberto, broke the silence first.

Soon after,

those metal dragons who had spoken briefly with Garoth, the one draped in gold cloth, reacted. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Silver dragons, Brass dragons, and others, after some hesitation and exchanged glances, recalled their earlier conversation. Coupled with the stunning victory before them, many began to feel that this red iron dragon truly stood apart; perhaps... the outrageous rumors about him being the Dragon Lord’s illegitimate son might actually have some merit?

Maybe he was the offspring of some Dragon Lord and an evil dragon.

So these metal dragons, with a mixture of curiosity and acceptance, began to join the cheers.

At the same time, like an unstoppable tide, murmurs began to spread rapidly through the dragon ranks.

“He actually won. So evil dragons can be this strong?”

“That power... that speed... it was like a legendary greatwyrm!”

“He seemed to negate Karus’s innate talent.”

“No, the red-iron dragon actually resisted Karus’s siphon and still managed to beat him. His physical attributes are absurd.”

Amid these voices braided with shock, analysis, and disbelief, more and more cheers swelled from all corners of the crowd—

sparse at first, then quickly swelling into a continuous roar.

Doubt? Anger? Resentment?

Those feelings certainly remained, especially in the hearts of some traditionally minded metal dragons; they would not vanish quickly.

But a growing number of metal dragons now looked at Garoth with subtly changed expressions.

From start to finish, that red iron dragon used no treacherous magic, no despicable evil curses.

What he used was the purest, most direct, and most aesthetically dragonlike approach—absolute strength. He smashed Karus with raw power.

It was an upright, unimpeachable victory.

No matter his bloodline, the victory itself merited celebration.

In the dragon world, strength is always the most effective passport to respect.

After all, deep in their bones, dragons revere the strong. The power Garoth displayed was enough to conquer many hearts.

Metal dragons’ instinctive wariness toward evil dragons had not entirely vanished, but it was now laced with increasing shock, awe, and a curious interest in this unusual red iron dragon.

At the battlefield’s center,

Garoth calmly reined in the outward projection of his dragon might and presence.

He glanced down at Karus, still floating unconscious on the sea, then turned to the legendary Brass Dragon announcer and said, “His injuries are severe. He should receive treatment as soon as possible, stabilize him to prevent deterioration.”

With that, he did not linger. He beat his wings, turned crisply, and left that airspace.

This calm, unpretentious bearing in victory—

this lack of gloating over a fallen opponent, instead showing concern for the loser’s wounds—

...Garoth’s conduct caused the legendary dragons watching from the cloud heights to nod slightly, their eyes reflecting a measure of approval.

The vast majority of order-aligned metal dragons, especially those weathered by time, wise, and capable of stepping into the Legendary tier, possessed their own scales for weighing right and wrong.

Extremist purification faction dragons were, after all, only a tiny minority.

For a dragon who displayed extraordinary potential and whose behavior was not chaotic or cruel, they viewed outreach and guidance as the best course.

On a thick cloud nearby, the legendary Gold Dragon Ovis could hardly conceal his delight, his whiskers trembling.

He bellowed a loud laugh and turned to the nearby legendary kin whose expressions were mixed, saying, “Who still doubts now? Who still questions?”

“I told you already, Garoth is nothing like those evil dragons who only know destruction and plunder!”

“He’s worth our domain’s efforts to court. Even if we can’t bring him fully into the domain, at least he can become a staunch ally rather than another enemy to oppose.”

Ovis was in ecstasy.

The red-iron dragon’s performance far exceeded his expectations, and this clean victory had also won him an enormous payout from the betting pool.

However, those legendary metal dragons who lost valuable wagers in the gamble were in a far worse mood.

Facing Ovis, a legendary Silver Dragon from the Everbright Domain stared at him with a dark gaze.

“Ovis, when you introduced him you said he barely fought to a draw with a human Legendary Sword Saint and was near death, badly wounded.”

“But what we just witnessed does not match that.”

Doubt threaded the Silver Dragon’s words.

According to Ovis’s earlier description, Karus, with his innate talent and battle experience, had many paths to victory.

Yet in reality, Karus was completely steamrolled from beginning to end, while the red-iron dragon looked composed and at ease, clearly not even exerting his full strength.

Ovis’s eyes narrowed instantly.

“What are you implying? Do you think I, Ovis, would lie to you?”

The old Gold Dragon spoke with righteous assurance. “I was very clear.”

“When I rushed over, his fight with the Legendary Sword Saint had already ended. As for Garoth’s true level, I only made a reasonable inference from the scene traces and some information.”

A legendary Bronze Dragon beside him snorted in displeasure, “You dared guarantee him and make us bet heavily based only on traces?”

Upon hearing this, Ovis straightened his chest and said in a deep voice, “Why not?”

“Who in the Dragon Domains doesn’t know I, Ovis, love a big gamble? When I see potential, I bet on it! This time I just had good eyes and luck!”

He waved a claw with a hint of impatience. “Hmph. If any of you are dissatisfied, go find an alternate challenger yourselves! If any non-Legendary you find in the same tier can defeat my chosen Garoth, I, Ovis, swear to return all wagers in full, not a coin kept!”

His gaze swept the legendary dragons, tone sharpening, “Enough talk! Wagered goods are dragon goods—when you bet, you accept the result!”

“Now, hand over all my spoils!”

Surrounded by Ovis’s bluster, the legendary dragons were momentarily speechless.

They counted through the legendary-tier dragons they knew or had heard of and reluctantly realized they could not find a peer who could stand toe-to-toe with Garoth at the same level.

Ovis’s eye for risk and his luck were simply extraordinary this time.

Reluctantly, under the pressure of Ovis’s burning stare, the legendary dragons could do nothing but hand over their promised wager items into a large spatial container Ovis had prepared.

Gold Dragon Ovis could hardly contain his joy.

His mouth curved wildly upward; the scales across his faceplate seemed to smile together.

Elsewhere,

the red-iron dragon beat his wings and flew toward where his companions were gathered.

Wherever he passed, the dense ranks of metal dragons instinctively parted, whether out of reverence, curiosity, or other complicated feelings. Unconsciously they made way, forming a smooth, unobstructed path.

“Nice fight! Exactly as I imagined—overwhelming, decisive! As expected, we Battle Dragons are the strongest!”

Gold Dragon Nasha, bold and straightforward, reached out a foreclaw and thumped Garoth’s broad, solid chest.

“Glad to see you aren’t badly hurt.”

At that moment, the Brass-Silver dragon drew near, stretching her neck to nudge Garoth’s faceplate.

“What are you doing...?”

Nasha paused, puzzled, then burst into laughter. “Is this some new greeting? Interesting, I want to try!”

She eagerly leaned in and nearly head-butted the red-iron dragon, sending his head tilting back slightly.

Only because Garoth’s body was so sturdy did he not see stars; another dragon might have been dazed.

Alberto stared at Garoth with a mix of admiration and jealousy and muttered, “To defeat challengers selected through multiple rounds with ease under all eyes and then walk away so nonchalantly...damn, why wasn’t it me?”

“Garoth! I strongly suspect you secretly stole the perfect dragon life that should have been mine!”

Vira the faerie dragon made an exaggerated face at Alberto.

She sniffed, “Give it a rest. You, who were knocked out cleanly in the first round, don’t go trying to ride on the coattails of our great, invincible Garoth!”

Alberto had indeed signed up for the tournament.

He had rotten luck—he met the top contender Brass Dragon Zafiri in the first elimination round.

Zafiri possessed a unique magical specialty and rapid casting talent; like a moving spell battery, she pounded down spells until Alberto could not hold, and he lost.

Alberto’s face flushed; he opened his mouth to protest for himself.

At that moment, a nimble, brass-colored figure flapped its wings and drifted over, landing nearby.

“Heh, Alberto’s actually not bad. He has potential. If our life levels were equal, I might not have held steady against his onslaught.”

The Brass Dragon spoke in a crisp, pleasant, fast-paced voice.

She had a long, lithe tail, lively bright eyes alight with curiosity, and a strong aura of magical energy.

She was Zafiri, the Brass Dragon from the Vophal Dragon Domain, a top challenger.

Her curious eyes focused on the red-iron dragon at the center of attention.

“Hello, powerful red-iron dragon. I’m Zafiri.”

The Brass Dragon made a quick, friendly introduction.

Garoth was about to reply politely when Zafiri, as if not needing a response, fired off a barrage of questions like a rapid-fire cannon.

“It’s my first time seeing a red-iron dragon! A fusion of red and iron dragons is extremely rare! Tell me, is your father a red dragon, or your mother a red dragon?”

“Oh, and the Dragon Legacy says familial bonds among evil dragons are generally poor.”

“Is that true? How are you with your parents? Did they shelter or guide you during your growth?”

She paused barely to breathe, eyes sparkling, and continued, “You do show traces of both red dragon and iron dragon form, but there are many structures I’ve never seen before.”

“Is this natural variation from being mixed-blood, or did you awaken some strange powerful unique talent?”

“Wow! Those scars and battle-hardened patterns across your body—varying depths, old and new intertwined—you must have gone through countless fierce battles.”

“Can you tell me about your past? Where were you born? How did you grow up?”

“And how did you meet Deborah, Nasha, and Alberto? The first time you met, did you fight because of differing factions?”

Zafiri’s mind leaped in fast bursts, her speech rapid as she unloaded a torrent of personal, bloodline, and history questions.

Garoth listened to this almost seamless string of queries and found himself at a loss, unsure where to begin or even whether to answer any at all.

He finally understood why the Legacy warned against dealing with Brass Dragons.

While Garoth hesitated, Zafiri drew a deep breath, chest puffed, ready to dig even further.

Garoth lifted a claw in advance to cut her off.

“Those questions you can ask Alberto. He knows me fairly well, and it seems you two already know each other.”

Zafiri blinked and liked the suggestion.

She nodded eagerly and, wearing a pleased expression, turned to the Gold Dragon Alberto who was trying to slip away quietly, chasing after him to pepper him with questions, “Alberto! Tell me! How did you meet? What happened the first time? Is Garoth’s strength from some special secret?…”

Alberto looked dizzy.

Meanwhile,

high above in the sky, isolated from the noisy dragon groups below, a Bronze Dragon sat on a drifting cloud.

Siano’s eyes narrowed as he watched the red-iron dragon surrounded and conversing amicably with the formerly proud metal dragons. The scene made his brow knot deeply.

A wave of uncontrollable disgust and displeasure churned in his heart.

Still, the opponent had indeed won by plain, proper strength and had not resorted to tricks. Moreover, this match had been vouched for by elders like Ovis—dragons of high status, not the lowest-ranking legends.

Although Siano reveled in inner loathing, he was not a fool and held his own pride.

He had no intention of using his Legendary status to strike at this young red-iron dragon immediately.

In Siano’s view, even if he planned to make a move, he would at least wait until the other reached Legendary tier so they could duel fairly.

But just as he forced down his displeasure and prepared to look away,

a solemn, holy whisper accompanied by immense pressure resonated within Siano’s soul.

“Siano Sheffield, my child.”

It did not arrive through the air but rang deep inside him, vibrating his dragon spirit.

Siano’s gaze went instantly rigid.

He scanned his surroundings; dragon might lay hidden, his sharp eyes swept the space and other dragons, but they showed no sign—they were still immersed in their post-match emotions.

It seemed only he could hear it.

The holy, dignified voice continued to flow through his mind.

“I watch over the lands that bear my blood and my hopes, I watch my people who inherit my radiance and oaths.”

“Yet beneath the light, shadows grow. The weight of vows is being forgotten.”

“When strength is worshipped blindly, when victory masks the root of evil, when my children begin to consort with evil and even cheer for it... the foundation of order has cracked.”

The voice remained steady, threaded with an indescribable disappointment.

Siano felt clearly that the feeling was not aimed solely at him but at all domains that appeared to be straying from their course.

Simultaneously, a thought like lightning pierced his soul—he realized whose voice it was.

Siano inhaled cloud-air and forced down the eruption of joy and excitement within him. With the most devout intent, he timidly asked within his heart,

“Is that you? The father of the metal dragons, the great Platinum Dragon God Bahamut? Are you watching me? Are you speaking to me?”

The voice gave no straightforward yes or no.

Siano pressed on, “The radiance of order is being corroded, the blade of justice grows dull, my people... are gradually falling.”

A brief pause seemed to freeze time around Siano; all things fell silent.

The divine edict focused entirely on him.

“In these lands drifting toward ignorance, I see you, Siano Sheffield.”

“I have watched you, my child.”

“Your faith is like tempered bronze—unbreakable. Your will is like a spear aimed at sin—unwavering. The flame of justice burning in you remains a pure, fierce spark amid the dimming light.”

“You are the executor I most approve of in this world.”

Hearing such recognition and praise, Siano felt his eyes go wet; an indescribable ache and exhilaration swelled up, almost forcing this mighty Legendary dragon to shed burning tears.

He had always been lonely, misunderstood.

Evil dragons saw him as an enemy to be rooted out; many comrades he fought for questioned his excessive measures and lack of tolerance.

He had pushed forward fueled by inner conviction.

Sometimes, on dark nights beneath the vast heavens, he had doubted whether his path was right.

Now, every doubt and grievance evaporated in that instant.

It wasn’t that he had taken the wrong path—others were drunk while he alone was sober!

The great Platinum Dragon God understood him! Acknowledged him!

From now on, Siano Sheffield would not waver even a fraction!

“Evil must not be granted the right to dwell in lands of light simply because it is strong or unique.”

“Those who taint order must face judgment.”

“Those who blur right and wrong must be purged.”

“My child, uphold your faith, enact your will, and return that evil to the darkness where it belongs. Let the strayed see true glory and the inviolable boundary.”

“This is your responsibility, and my... expectation of you.”

As the words faded, the vast, awe-inspiring pressure receded like a tide, as if it had never been, yet the divine edict’s every word had been stamped upon Siano’s soul.

He slowly lifted his head and looked toward where the red-iron evil dragon stood.

The hint of hesitation and principled restraint in him had turned into iron certainty—sharp, even touched with martyr-like fervor.

The Dragon God’s endorsement and the sacred mission to cleanse evil had overridden his previous restraint.

This was no longer mere personal animosity or prideful dispute; it was a holy war about the future fate of the dragon domains and the defense of order’s foundation!

He would act as the Dragon God’s executor, carry out judgment, and purge the evil!