Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

The gray-dim sky hung low, the cloud layers so thick they seemed about to collapse downward.

The red iron dragon was coiled on the ground, his massive body undulating and sprawling like a mountain range taking a nap.

He made no other movements, his eyes slightly closed as if resting.

At the same time, centered on him, a human figure kept flickering through the air.

It was too fast—each flash trailed a string of afterimages, as if a dozen figures were darting around the great dragon simultaneously.

Their movements had no discernible pattern.

Sometimes, they charged in from the front, twin swords crossing to slash at the dragon’s chest. Other times, they vanished on the spot, only to appear behind the dragon the next second, blades hacking viciously across its spine. Still other times, they flickered multiple times in succession, attacking from different angles, making it impossible to predict where the next strike would land.

The Terminus Arc would flash in tandem.

Yet the dragon never opened his eyes, nor did he make any attempt to counterattack or defend.

He simply coiled there in stillness, allowing those sword marks to appear on his body one after another.

After some time, Garoth slowly opened his eyes.

The crisscrossing sword scars on his body were shocking to behold. The deepest one stretched from his shoulder blade all the way to his waist and abdomen, nearly splitting half his torso open. However, the edges of those wounds had already begun to heal.

Muscles writhed autonomously, reconnecting torn tissue.

New scales grew from the edges, softening to hardening, thinning to thickening, their color shifting from tender red to a deep metallic hue.

All the injuries were recovering at a visible rate.

"Alright, let's stop here for now."

Garoth spoke.

Reinhardt's figure halted in midair. His twin swords spun twice in his hands before being sheathed.

His breathing was slightly quickened, his chest rising and falling a bit faster than usual, but his overall state was still intact, nowhere near exhaustion. His robes clung tightly to his body, whipped by the wind, revealing a lean and sturdy silhouette.

Reinhardt stood across from the dragon and bowed slightly.

"Your Majesty, how do you feel?"

He asked.

The mountain-like great dragon slowly rose to his feet. He lowered his head to examine the sword marks on his body, his gaze moving from the deepest cut on his shoulder blade to his waist and abdomen, then to the shallower marks on his arms and chest, before revealing a satisfied smile.

Under the condition of completely not fighting back and only relying on his body to withstand the attacks, Reinhardt's strikes still hurt quite a bit.

The tearing sensation each time the Terminus Arc sliced through his scales was both a stimulus and a pleasure for Garoth.

This human had fast attack speed, high damage, and an excellent Domain mechanism.

The only flaw was that the human body itself was relatively fragile and couldn't withstand many heavy blows, but this flaw was completely acceptable when weighed against the advantage of "high damage."

For Garoth, high damage alone was enough to satisfy him.

"At my current level, my physical toughness has exceeded the imagination of most legendary beings. Many attacks land on me without any pain or itch, so naturally, it's hard to stimulate my body's adaptation and evolution."

"I need power that can truly hurt me."

Reinhardt's appearance had greatly alleviated this problem for him.

"Aphra is also decent. Her magic is even more effective than Reinhardt's in some aspects, but purely in terms of damage, she's still far behind him."

"As my body and physique grow day by day, the number of attacks that can truly inflict damage on me is dwindling."

"Reinhardt, keep sharpening your edge."

He paused, his tone becoming more serious: "Not just maintaining it—you need to make it stronger. Otherwise, the distance between you and me will only grow wider, until one day, I will no longer need you at all."

Reinhardt lifted his head to meet the dragon's gaze.

"I can guarantee that."

He said: "Your Majesty, your body's hardness is actually an excellent whetstone for me. That analogy isn't quite right, but the meaning is roughly the same. Your scales can also help me refine my swordsmanship."

"Opportunities like this are far too rare."

For him, there were almost no opponents who could withstand the Terminus Arc.

The Terminus Arc was born from the intersection of light and darkness, capable of ignoring defense. But Garoth's scales could somehow endure it—they would be cut open, yes, but they wouldn't collapse without resistance like other substances.

This sense of resistance was something Reinhardt had never experienced before.

Previously, whenever he wanted to hone his swordsmanship, he lacked a suitable target.

Garoth was different. His defense was strong enough, his recovery fast enough, to withstand Reinhardt's unrestrained attacks.

The great dragon used his sharpness to temper his body, while the dragon's bodily hardness was also a good target for refining his sword skills.

"That's even better."

Garoth nodded slowly.

He didn't mind Reinhardt becoming stronger too. On the contrary, that was exactly what he wanted.

A stronger swordsman could provide him with more effective stimulation, allowing his body to grow faster through injury and recovery.

"You went to Theo earlier. How did it feel?"

Garoth changed the subject, his tone becoming more casual.

Reinhardt's face showed a subtle expression.

The corners of his mouth curled upward with obvious pleasure, while his brows furrowed downward as if troubled. The two emotions intertwined, creating a face that was both happy and helpless.

"They... were too enthusiastic."

"Too enthusiastic for me to handle."

He shook his head with a wry smile, as if reminiscing about those scenes that left him flustered.

Upon hearing this, the red iron dragon let out a low, rumbling laugh.

"Enthusiastic?"

Garoth said: "You used 'enthusiastic'? Reinhardt, you don't need to be so restrained in front of me. Be honest. Just tell me—how did they treat you?"

Reinhardt shook his head helplessly again, but a slight curve involuntarily rose at the corner of his mouth.

"It really was more than just enthusiasm."

He admitted.

"Last time I went to Theo, no one remembered me. I walked through the streets for an entire day, and not a single person recognized me. Some even treated me as a stranger, asking where I came from and where I was going."

"I thought they had long forgotten the Light of Theo who once gave them hope and then let them down."

"I thought, 'This is fine. I can just go back quietly and take a look.'"

He paused, his expression growing even more subtle.

"And then?"

Garoth asked.

Reinhardt sighed.

"And then... I was already keeping a low profile."

"I was just like an ordinary adventurer, staying at an inn, wandering around the city every day, visiting the places I went to as a child."

"But in just two or three days, the entrance to my inn was packed with people."

Garoth said: "It seems someone recognized you."

"I'm not sure how the word spread."

Reinhardt said: "Maybe someone on the street recognized my face. Anyway, the news spread throughout the entire Silverglow City."

"One morning, I pushed open the inn door, and there were already hundreds of people standing outside. By the third day, it was thousands. They blocked the entire street just to catch a glimpse of me."

"The king came in person. Almost all the nobles came."

"They even bestowed a bunch of titles on me."

"Guardian of Theo, Sword Saint of Light and Dark, Pillar of the Kingdom... I didn't even remember them all. There were too many, each one more exaggerated than the last. I felt like they were competing to come up with the best-sounding name."

"They also erected a statue of me."

"It's right in the square in front of Theo's royal palace, beside Your Majesty's statue. The base is made of white marble, engraved with my name, my deeds, and an inscription that reads 'To Theo's Greatest Hero.' They said they wanted everyone, now and in future generations, to know that Theo had given birth to a Mandate of Heaven."

As he spoke, Reinhardt kept smiling bitterly.

"When I was young, I liked these things."

"Back then, I was still a reckless young man. I had just become a legendary, full of ambition, feeling like the whole world was my stage."

"But maybe because I've spent so much time adventuring alone, experienced so many life-and-death battles, and witnessed the cruelty and complexity of the world, now that I'm surrounded by flowers and praise again, I feel somewhat overwhelmed and unable to cope."

Garoth looked at him with amusement.

This human said he couldn't cope, yet his brows were much more relaxed than before, and the curve of his mouth was noticeably wider.

His wry smile wasn't so much annoyance as it was a kind of unfamiliar satisfaction.

It was like someone used to loneliness suddenly being pulled back into a crowd. Though they would feel strange and uncomfortable, the satisfaction of being needed and recognized was something they couldn't hide no matter what.

"Can't cope? I think you're quite enjoying it."

Garoth said bluntly.

Reinhardt froze for a moment. He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words caught in his throat and were swallowed back down.

He admitted in a low voice: "...Yes."

"I thought I had grown a lot, become mature and detached enough not to care about these empty titles. But when I saw the warm smiles of Theo's people, I still felt genuinely happy."

"And deep down, I subconsciously denied all of this."

Garoth asked: "Why deny it?"

Reinhardt was silent for a while, then said: "Maybe... because I feel like I shouldn't care about these things."

"A truly strong person shouldn't be concerned with external opinions. They should focus on their own path."

"I'm ashamed that I still care about all this."

After listening, Garoth let out a low grunt.

"Human life is short. Spring blossoms and autumn fruits pass in the blink of an eye. If there's something you like, there's no need to hide it. Just admit it openly."

"Honor, praise, being remembered—these are things worth being happy about."

"You're seeing the echoes of what you protected while you're still alive. There's nothing shameful about that."

Reinhardt looked thoughtful, his gaze growing distant.

Across from him, the red iron dragon continued: "Many of the honors you received when you were young were false, even outright flattery meant to set you up for a fall."

"But it's different now."

"A living Mandate of Heaven—you should know very well what that means to a kingdom. Throughout the entire planet Bernardo, the number of living Mandate of Heavens isn't large. Theo's status is rising precisely because of you."

"Those titles, that statue, the royal court's treatment—they are given from the heart."

"These honors are what you deserve. There's no need to feel uneasy about them."

Reinhardt was stunned for a few seconds, then the expression on his face gradually brightened.

"Your Majesty is right."

He nodded seriously.

"I've been overthinking things. I always habitually reflect on myself, but I really do... really like that statue."

"Even though it doesn't look much like me—they made the face too square. My face is a bit thinner, and the curve of the Evernight sword was also carved slightly wrong—but every time I pass by it, I can't help but take an extra look."

Garoth let out a low, rumbling chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with pursuing the things you like."

"Whether it's power, honor, authority, or something else, as long as you know what you're pursuing and why you're pursuing it, that's enough."

"And now, you deserve those flowers and praises."

He paused, then changed his tone.

"However, having your statue beside mine but carved imperfectly—that's unacceptable. Next time you go back, have them redo it."

Reinhardt was stunned for a second, then couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Alright."

After the brief laughter, the atmosphere settled back into calm.

"Your Majesty, let's continue."

Reinhardt said.

His expression shifted back from relaxation to focus. Two great swords materialized in his hands again—one forged from light, the other from darkness.

"Your recovery speed is very fast. Please allow me to continue honing your scales now."

Garoth nodded slightly: "Let's try a different method."

As his words fell, Dragon Qi surged around Garoth, coalescing, compressing, and shaping itself around him.

Eventually, it transformed into a Star-Self Dragon identical to his true form.

"Come. Go all out."

Garoth's true body closed its eyes, while the Star-Self Dragon opened its own, its gaze sharp.

Reinhardt studied the Star-Self Dragon for a few glances, sweeping his gaze from its head to its tail and back again, then unfolded his Domain.

Light and darkness swirled along the blade edges. The Terminus Arc flashed intermittently, cutting through the Star-Self Dragon's scales.

The Star-Self Dragon let out a low roar and assumed a combat stance of three heads and six arms, then activated the Starlight State, the first-stage Explosive Qi, and so on.

As time passed, the Star-Self Dragon's body grew increasingly dim.

After about twenty minutes, with a flash of the Terminus Arc piercing from head to tail, the Star-Self Dragon was completely shattered.

Reinhardt wasn't unscathed either.

During the battle, the Star-Self Dragon had triggered his Nine Lives of Fortune three times.

Finally, at the moment the Star-Self Dragon dissipated, the maximum effects of both Rage Without Fear of Death and Born from Death were triggered simultaneously. At the last moment of its life, it erupted with power far exceeding its usual level, relentlessly pursuing Reinhardt.

In that brief span, Reinhardt was practically dancing on a razor's edge, triggering Nine Lives of Fortune once more.

"Your Majesty, this clone of yours is almost comparable to a Mandate of Heaven."

"If it were back when I had just broken through to Mandate of Heaven and challenged you, I might not have even been able to defeat this clone."

Reinhardt's chest heaved violently as he gasped for air, his eyes filled with astonishment.

His words came from the heart.

The sense of danger this clone brought him was almost identical to Garoth's true body.

The only difference was that this clone didn't seem to grow stronger during battle.

The terrifying thing about Garoth's true body was that as the fight progressed, it continuously adapted to the opponent's attack patterns, constantly evolving targeted defenses and countermeasures.

This clone also grew stronger as it took damage.

However, only its base attributes increased—it didn't adapt to Reinhardt's attack methods.

"Can't evolve mid-combat. No Radiant State. Its HP pool is far inferior to mine."

"But it's still barely on par with a human Mandate of Heaven's power."

Garoth silently evaluated, forming a clearer understanding of this clone's capabilities in his mind.

He was fairly satisfied with it.

On one hand, his mastery over the Star-Self body wasn't yet perfect. On the other hand, the Star-Self body's upper limit could still increase as his path level rose.

The key point was...

For the first half-hour of its existence, the Star-Self body didn't consume extra Dragon Qi.

Since Garoth's true body wasn't fighting, his Dragon Qi recovered rapidly with each breath through the effect of his Abyssal Breath Lungs.

By the time the Star-Self body was dispersed, much of the Dragon Qi he had expended had already been recovered.

"If the Star-Self body isn't dispersed, after half an hour—when not in combat—its Dragon Qi consumption basically balances out with what breathing replenishes."

Garoth calculated inwardly: "Hmm, it can exist for extended periods."

By that reckoning, Aola actually had three Mandate-level combat forces.

Ranked by strength, they were: himself, Reinhardt, and the Star-Self body.

Aola was now the strongest tier beneath the Empire.

Just then, as if sensing something, Garoth narrowed his eyes slightly. He produced a lightning-ball-shaped communication device and gently touched it with his dragon claw, activating it.

Almost immediately, the voice of Lamorein, the Lord of Thunder, rang out from within.

"Garoth, congratulations on awakening."

"News of your deeds has reached my ears. Single-handedly taking down all the crown-level beings of the Eastern Alliance and Southern Domain, and even making a Mandate of Heaven submit... Truly impressive."

Garoth didn't take the bait. He asked directly: "You made a special trip to send me a message, just to congratulate me?"

"Of course not."

Lamorein replied immediately.

"The congratulations are sincere. Among us dragons, the number who have reached the crown level isn't large. You've done it, and you can even hold your own against other races' Mandates of Heaven in a direct confrontation. I'm happy for you."

"Get to the point."

Garoth interrupted him without ceremony.

He knew Lamorein's personality very well. The Lord of Thunder was never the type to send a message just to make small talk. If he was contacting him specifically, there had to be a reason.

On the other end, Lamorein was silent for a moment.

"In the past, you would have had the patience to listen to me finish."

"It seems the rumors aren't false. The Red Emperor of today may be at crown level, but he is already like a Mandate Dragon."

His tone was somewhat complex.

"Fighting above his weight at high legendary—that much the Helmod Dragonflight could barely accept."

"After all, dragons have a bloodline advantage, and Garoth was always the type with extraordinary combat talent. Crossing tiers to fight, while rare, wasn't impossible."

"But breaking through to crown level and still carrying on that style, crushing a Mandate of Heaven across an entire major realm?"

"That's just too outrageous."

The gap between legendary tiers, though not as vast as the chasm between mortals and legends, was still not linear.

The higher you went, the larger the gap between each minor realm, and the harder it became to fight above your weight.

At the crown level, even for a dragon, barely holding out against a Mandate of Heaven was the limit. Beating one? And even subjugating it? That was an entirely different concept.

This was beyond Lamorein's expectations.

The position he held today was the result of a thousand years of accumulation.

Step by step, he had grown from a hatchling to an Ancient Dragon, from a legendary to a crown level. How much effort had he invested, how many battles had he endured, how much hardship had he suffered—only he knew.

And yet the red iron dragon had risen like a comet in just two or three hundred years, surpassing him in the blink of an eye.

The Lord of Thunder felt genuine admiration from the bottom of his heart, and even a hint of jealousy.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his inner emotions, and said: "Alright, I'll get to the point. Garoth, does our old agreement still stand?"

The corner of the red iron dragon's mouth curled slightly.

"'After I can sweep through the human kingdoms alone, you and I will fight. The loser offers their loyalty, or you admit defeat and willingly submit.'"

"That was your intention back then."

"Yes." The Lord of Thunder confirmed without hesitation. "I said it, and it still holds true. What about you? Do you still recognize this agreement?"

Garoth said: "Of course. I never break my word."

Across from him, the Lord of Thunder was silent for a few seconds, then said slowly: "Although we're both at crown level, there's no need for a fight. I admit I'm no match for you, and I am willing to lead the entire Helmod Dragonflight to prostrate ourselves beneath the wings of you Aolan dragons."

Garoth's eyes narrowed slightly, his pupils contracting.

He asked: "If you're willing, I naturally won't refuse. But you—a crown-level Ancient Dragon, a king of a realm, the leader of a dragonflight—are you sure you can submit to being under another dragon?"

"A leader accustomed to giving orders suddenly becoming a subordinate to another dragon?"

"This isn't an easy thing to do, and it's not something you can just say with words."

A dragon's pride was innate, especially for Ancient Dragons like Lamorein who had lived for over a thousand years. Their self-respect was stronger than that of ordinary dragons, making it even harder for them to accept being beneath another dragon.

Lamorein spoke again.

"I can."

"You know me. What I desire most is to see the dragons become great again."

"Even if I can't lead them myself, as long as I can watch the dragon race gradually rise and reclaim its former glory, I don't mind working for you."

He paused, then added: "But there's a condition. You have to help me deal with the trouble in front of me first."

"The Metal Dragons of the Raging Tides, those damned dragons full of righteousness and order, have their eyes on me. They're biting at my heels and won't let go."

He ground his teeth as he spoke: "Before, it was one crown-level dragon tailing me. Now it's two—two crown-level dragons leading a group of legendary Metal Dragons, repeatedly attacking my kingdom, rampaging through my territory!"

As he spoke, the Blue Dragon's voice grew louder and more frantic.

"The coast of Brakton is mostly blockaded by them. The kingdoms I used to keep under my thumb are now rising up against me. I'm almost at my wit's end."

Previously, with both sides locked in stalemate, he could still maintain the situation and maneuver against the Metal Dragons.

But now, with the appearance of another crown-level Metal Dragon, the situation had taken a sharp turn for the worse.

The two crown-level dragons sent by the Raging Tides Dragon Domain were no pushovers, and the other legends weren't weak either. His dragonflight had already been suppressed. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Garoth was silent for a few seconds, quickly calculating in his mind.

He had been thinking before about whether to get involved in the conflict between these two sides.

The conflict between the Raging Tides Dragon Domain and the Lord of Thunder was, in a sense, a continuation of the contradictions between Metal Dragons and Five-Colored Dragons. Getting involved had both pros and cons, and he hadn't been able to come up with a clear result in a short time.

And now, Lamorein had come to him himself.

"You should have expected that the Raging Tides Dragon Domain wouldn't just sit back and watch you establish a kingdom."

Garoth said.

"I didn't think the Raging Tides would move so fast..."

Lamorein stopped mid-sentence, then changed tack: "What's done is done, Garoth. I need your strength. Helping me is helping yourself. You know this. The Raging Tides won't have a favorable attitude toward you either."

"Once I'm crushed, you'll be next."

"The 'Purification' of those Metal Dragons won't stop at Helmod. They might march all the way north and add your Aola to the list as well. To them, you and I are both evil dragons—there's no difference."

"Furthermore, if Aola accepts my dragonflight's allegiance, it will inevitably be seen as a provocation by the Raging Tides."

"Either way, the Raging Tides Dragon Domain will end up opposing you. It's just a matter of sooner or later."

His words weren't without merit.

Garoth pondered for a moment, then said slowly: "I know you're anxious, but don't be for now. I will give this matter serious thought and give you an answer."

"Hurry! Hurry!"

Lamorein said urgently, then ended the transmission.

Beneath the gray-dim sky, the red iron dragon coiled back onto the ground, his eyes slightly closed, lost in thought. Reinhardt stood silently in place, not daring to make a sound, simply waiting patiently.

Not long after, the red iron dragon's voice rang out again.

"Reinhardt."

"Yes."

The human bowed slightly.

"What do you think?" Garoth asked.

Reinhardt thought for a moment, then said seriously: "Your Majesty, my opinion doesn't matter much, but in my own view, I think this Lord of Thunder is not to be trusted."

He paused, organizing his words.

"A dragon like him won't willingly submit."

"He's been a king for too long. He's used to being looked up to by other dragons. Even if he bows his head now because of the circumstances, once the situation improves, he will definitely find a way to regain his independence, or even turn on you."

"Loyalty—that kind of thing isn't that important to an Ancient Dragon who has lived for over a thousand years."

Garoth nodded slowly.

His blood relatives could follow him with unwavering faith, largely because they had gone through hardships together since childhood. The other Aolan dragons were also influenced by hearing the Red Emperor's great deeds from the moment they were born.

This even included Reinhardt before him.

The reason he could submit was largely because he had been psychologically scarred in his youth.

A crown-level Ancient Dragon like Lamorein almost certainly couldn't submit obediently.

"I think so too."

Garoth said.

After a pause, he changed his tone: "However, whether he can be trusted doesn't matter. At this point, he no longer poses much of a threat to me."

His gaze grew distant.

"The key point is the Raging Tides Dragon Domain."

Garoth still remembered how close he had come to death when the Bronze Dragon had attacked him.

That had been the closest he had ever been to death.

The Metal Dragons who espoused the philosophy of Purification were, in some ways, more extreme and more dangerous than evil dragons.

The Five-Colored Dragons could at least be manipulated through greed and other emotions. But the Purification of those Metal Dragons was a mission, an obsession that was difficult to shake.

They didn't fight for profit or territory. They fought only for so-called justice and order.

Dealing with dragons like that was more difficult than dealing with Five-Colored Dragons.

Before, Garoth had tried to avoid the Raging Tides Dragon Domain as much as possible.

Fortunately, his territory was in the Northern Borders, separated from the Raging Tides Dragon Domain by the entire Atlantis Continent, with numerous kingdoms and vast lands serving as a buffer. It was relatively safe.

But now, almost the entire continent of Atlantis was nearly under his control.

Soon, he would inevitably come into contact with the Raging Tides Dragon Domain. When that happened, maritime spheres of influence, land territorial boundaries... there would be too many places where friction could arise.

Having the Helmod Dragonflight right now actually served as a decent buffer. He couldn't afford to completely ignore it.

"'A king does not see a king; avoid the sharp edge for now...'"

"I've been avoiding their sharp edge for far too long. Ever since that attack by the Bronze Dragon, I've been dodging them. But now, there's no need to keep retreating. I can test the waters a bit."

He had made up his mind.

Then, Garoth looked toward the Mandate swordsman standing beside him.

"Reinhardt, go to the west for a while. When the Helmod Dragonflight encounters major difficulties, step in and help them repel the Metal Dragons."

He paused, emphasizing: "Remember, repelling is enough. Don't take any lives. Don't let any Metal Dragon die by your sword."

Garoth didn't have a good impression of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain, but the other dragon domains were still acceptable. Considering their existence, the conflict with the Raging Tides couldn't be allowed to escalate too severely.

But to completely avoid it?

That was already in the past.

The red iron dragon gazed at the human before him and said solemnly: "This is the first official task I am entrusting to you."

Reinhardt's face turned serious. He shed all his casualness and ease, straightened his body, and said firmly: "I accept! I will not betray Your Majesty's trust."

He said in a low voice.

Soon after, Reinhardt set off.

Garoth also returned to the Material Plane.

"Bronze Dragon King, Raging Tides Dragon Domain..."

The red iron dragon soared through the high sky, his wings spread wide, blotting out the sun. Each flap stirred up a gale. He looked toward the direction of the Boiling Sea and murmured to himself.

He had only been to the sea once, right after he came of age.

Later, he had provoked the Purification Faction dragons and was attacked by a Bronze Dragon, nearly dying in the sea.

Out of caution, Garoth had never gone to sea again.

Those offspring with Metal Dragon bloodlines had gone to the Vophal Dragon Domain with their mother; he hadn't followed.

Just now, the thought of going to sea again had occurred to him.

However, after taking a deep breath, Garoth shook his head slightly and whispered: "No rush. There's no need for me to go. Having Reinhardt carry my will there is sufficient."

Compared to going to sea, he was more interested in going to the Arotala Continent first.

There wasn't much going on in the kingdom right now. Leaving a Star-Self body to guard it would be enough. If a real problem arose, the Star-Self Dragon could hold the line for a while. Once his true body pinpointed the location through the Star-Self Dragon, he could tear through space and arrive quickly.

Going to the Arotala Continent now meant there were basically no worries to hold him back.