Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Breckton Kingdom.

Inside a mountain, a massive domed space had been secretly hollowed out.

This place was completely sealed off from the outside world, with no sunlight or wind, only heavy silence and darkness.

The altar sat at the very center of the space, carved from a single piece of obsidian, its surface covered in dense, intricate runes.

The runes were arranged in a pentagram pattern, with complex magical circuits connecting at every turning point, spreading like blood vessels across the entire altar surface. At the five points stood pillars, each topped with a gem the size of a human head.

Their colors were red, blue, green, black, and white, representing the five scale colors of the Five-Colored Dragons.

The air in the entire space was stagnant and heavy, as if invisible hands pressed down on one's shoulders, making it hard to breathe. If an ordinary human stood here, they would feel dizzy and lose consciousness within seconds.

A massive dragon silhouette, covered entirely in blue scales, stood silently in this place.

Lamorein Helmod, the Lord of Thunder.

He stood at the edge of the altar.

The body of a Crown-level great dragon no longer seemed so massive here; this space was spacious enough.

His vertical pupils were fixed on the center of the altar, unmoving.

Time slowly passed in the profound silence, and he had stood here alone for a long time.

Lamorein closed his eyes, then opened them again.

In his mind's eye, the sword light of the Mandate of Heaven human appeared. White, traversing the horizon, cutting through the dark clouds like cloth. The sheer power of that sword strike, even now when he thought of it, still made his heart tremble, filling him with shame and anger.

However, deep down, he understood clearly.

In essence, it wasn't a human problem.

Reinhardt was just following orders. The real problem lay much deeper.

In the humiliation of being suppressed by the Metal Dragons yet unable to turn the tide of battle. In the absurdity of his thousand years of patient accumulation being outdone by the Red Emperor's two to three hundred years of meteoric rise. In the crushing frustration of wanting to lead the dragons to greatness, yet finding himself utterly powerless.

He was incredibly jealous, and incredibly envious, of Garoth.

Garoth was much younger than him, his rise had taken much less time, yet he had already achieved what Lamorein had failed to do in over a thousand years, and he had done it better.

"My poor child."

The whisper echoed again.

Soft, burning hot, carrying a special power that made the listener want to cry. It was like a mother watching her child fall into the mud, wanting to give them the strength to get back up.

"You have stood here for a long time, my child."

The voice was gentle, like silk brushing over scales. "I can feel the struggle within you. I can feel your pride resisting. I can feel your reason warning you. You don't trust any free gift, because you have lived too long and seen too many traps."

"This is the wisdom that has kept you alive until today, and it makes me glad."

"But... what has this so-called pride brought him?"

"It has only allowed him to break in a uglier way before he is shattered. It makes his defeats look so miserable. It makes his retreats look like a choice."

"But the result is the same, isn't it?"

Hearing these words, Lamorein's claws dug deep into the ground. Cracks spread outward from his claws, accompanied by a fine, splintering sound.

He remained silent, unable to refute her.

Because he couldn't refute her.

Every single word from the Dragon Queen landed squarely on the cracks in his bones, so precise that it made his insides churn, almost to the point of nausea.

"I'm not here to humiliate you."

Her voice suddenly softened, like a mother realizing she had spoken too harshly and gently pulling back some of her force.

"You are proud, so you are unwilling to accept this. You are unwilling to accept this, so you stand here. Your pride hasn't betrayed you. It has only led you to the correct door."

"Open the door, my child."

"Accept my grace. Take the power that belongs to you. Make all those creatures who look down on you grovel before you. Let the great dragons gaze upon the sheen of your scales as you lead them back to greatness."

The Blue Dragon did not speak. He remained silent.

The five gems on the altar flickered with light, as if echoing the Dragon Queen's words. Different colors interwove, casting a dappled, colorful glow across the domed space.

After a long while, he finally spoke.

"Then, what is the price?"

He asked.

He had seen countless souls fall into the Abyss because they coveted power. He had seen countless strong individuals become puppets of others due to a moment of weakness.

He never believed in free grace. Because "free" itself was the most expensive price; the bill just hadn't arrived yet.

The Dragon Queen styled herself as the mother of the Five-Colored Dragons.

But this deity was, in essence, a selfish and malevolent evil god.

Younger Five-Colored Dragons might not know this, but ancient dragons like Lamorein, and indeed any Five-Colored Dragon who could reach the Crown-level, knew very well in their hearts that they absolutely could not trust the Dragon Queen and must resist her advances.

Yet, Lamorein was still standing here now.

Some things, even when you knew them, didn't change anything.

The Dragon Queen let out a fond, light laugh.

It was like a mother's approving chuckle when her child asked a smart question.

"My child, you have asked a very good question."

"This proves you are still awake, still rational. You haven't been completely blinded by anger or unwillingness. This makes me even happier."

"Then, let me answer you."

Her voice became solemn. It was no longer a whisper. It echoed in Lamorein's mind like the tolling of a bell, every word carrying an undeniable authority.

"The price... is no price."

"What I want is your rise, your glory, your victory."

"When you use the power I bestow to rebuild the brilliance of the Dragon race, the entire world will know that it was the Five-Colored Dragon Queen who gave you all this. They will know that I have never abandoned my children. She was only waiting for her children to learn humility and reach out their hands."

"This is what I want."

"Your victory is my glory."

"While you live, you will become my apostle. You will walk upon the earth, spreading the fame of the Five Colors on my behalf, ruling over my offspring. After you die, your soul will return to my divine realm, securing a place in my hall. There, alongside all the great ancestral dragons, you will bathe in my radiance forever."

"This is not a price, Lamorein."

"This is grace. This is your final destination."

Lamorein's expression did not change.

He closed his eyes, lost in deep thought.

An apostle...

Lamorein knew what that word meant.

An apostle was the deity's voice in the mortal world. The vessel for the deity's power. The extension of their will. Becoming an apostle meant he would touch the power of a god while still alive, gaining power far beyond what he had now.

But at the same time, it also meant he would be branded forever.

An apostle always belonged to a god.

There were no exceptions.

At that moment, the voice echoed again.

"You want power, don't you?"

"Your lofty ambitions, your patient concealment, your unwillingness and anger... I have seen all of this, child. From the moment you cracked out of your shell, I have been watching you."

"I watched you spread your wings for the first time in the storm. I watched you temper your scales with lightning. I watched you build your kingdom, piece by piece."

"Every step you took, I have seen it."

"I watched you endure. I watched you wait. I watched you be crushed by reality, time and time again."

"You are tired, Lamorein, my poor child."

"But now, you no longer have to carry all this alone. Accept my grace, and I will be with you."

After a moment of silence, Lamorein slowly opened his eyes.

Was there any gift in this world that came without a price?

No.

He knew this better than most dragons.

He might have a chance to break through to the Mandate of Heaven in the future, but it was absolutely impossible to reach Immortal. And if even a Mandate-level Gold Dragon King couldn't change things, how could he possibly manage?

Accepting the Dragon Queen's power was at least a glimmer of hope.

As for Garoth...

At first, Lamorein thought he was the same as himself. Both were emperors wanting to lead the Dragon race to power, just taking different paths.

But now he understood. He had been too presumptuous.

Garoth was fundamentally different from him.

Aola was a kingdom where dragons were supreme.

But in the end, it was a kingdom where the Red Emperor was supreme.

He didn't truly care whether his own race was glorious or faded into obscurity. What Garoth wanted was his own strength, not the strength of the Dragon race.

"You should know that on this planet, there is a Scarlet Emperor Cangxing who is more suitable to be your apostle than I am."

Lamorein asked. "Why didn't you choose him?"

Before the answer came, he suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"Mmm, probably because a dragon like him simply doesn't need to, and would never, pray to anyone."

His voice paused briefly, then he said calmly, "I accept this power."

The Blue Dragon strode toward the center of the altar.

Around the perimeter of the altar, countless gold, silver, gems, and ore ingots lay scattered... but these treasures now seemed so cheap, like mere ornaments.

"Let's begin."

The Blue Dragon stopped in the center of the altar, said in a low voice, and closed his eyes.

The wealth piled up on the altar, the mountain-like gold coins, the dazzling gems... suddenly began to spin silently.

They were pulled by an invisible force, like leaves caught in a whirlpool. The speed grew faster and faster. Gold coins and gems collided, producing a fine clattering sound, but this was quickly drowned out by the roar of the vortex. Eventually, they formed a single, shimmering torrent.

But these were not the most important offerings.

Lamorein knew that the most crucial offering was himself.

A void appeared in the center of the treasure vortex. All of it surged into the void and disappeared, as if swallowed by an invisible mouth.

Then, a vast and unmatched will descended from within.

It was as if the weight of the entire sky had suddenly pressed down. The air solidified. The rock groaned under the unbearable pressure. The light inside the mountain was instantly drained away, plunging everything into absolute darkness. Even Lamorein's own scales' sheen was swallowed up.

In the suffocating darkness, a single drop of liquid, shimmering with five mixed, impure halos, fell from the void.

It hovered above Lamorein, about the size of a human head.

Five-Colored Divine Blood!

The next second, it expanded violently, blooming like a flower. Petals of five colors unfolded, one after another. Each petal emitted a different light. They expanded to their fullest extent, then closed together, forming a swirling, five-colored cocoon of light.

Lamorein was completely engulfed within it.

"AHHH!"

A roar of agony, suppressed to its very limits, came from within the cocoon.

The Blue Dragon's body inside the cocoon convulsed and twisted violently.

His tail thrashed wildly, slamming against the inner walls of the blood cocoon. His wings snapped open, then slammed shut, the wing membranes tearing in the cramped space. His claws also ripped at the inner walls of the blood cocoon. Each struggle caused a massive bulge to form on the surface of the cocoon.

If anyone could see inside the cocoon, they would see his scales melting.

The blue scales began to darken, becoming deeper, more intense, turning into the deep indigo-blue color that only appeared when a storm was brewing to its extreme. It was deeper than the deepest ocean.

The shape of the scales was also changing.

The original hexagonal scales became elongated. Fine protrusions grew along their edges.

In the center of each scale, a lightning bolt-shaped raised pattern appeared, like a frozen bolt of lightning embedded into the dragon scale.

And it wasn't just the scales.

His wings were also changing.

The wing membrane became thicker and tougher, showing scale-like patterns. His dragon horns became longer and sharper, their surfaces covered in fine lightning runes. His fangs grew thicker, their edges sporting serrated notches... his entire body was undergoing earth-shattering transformations.

Lamorein roared within the blood cocoon.

The pain did not lessen; instead, it grew more intense. His consciousness flickered between clarity and blurriness in the agonizing torment, as if he had been thrown into a nightmare from which he could never wake.

"Endure, my apostle!"

"Your bloodline is being remade! This is a return to the source, a coronation of glory! Every bit of pain is worth it. Do not resist. Savor it carefully."

The change was not only happening on a physical level, but on a bloodline level as well.

The Five-Colored Divine Blood was rewriting the very essence of his bloodline.

However, this was not an evolution.

He was backtracking.

Backtracking to the distant era when the Dragon Lords ruled the world. Backtracking to the time before the Five-Colored Dragon bloodline had diverged, before it had been diluted, before it had been weakened by time.

In that era, a few Blue Dragons had a different name from the others.

Storm Dragons.

The pinnacle of the Blue Dragon bloodline. A walking natural disaster.

They didn't need incantations. They didn't need rituals. They only needed a single thought to summon countless storms. In that era, Storm Dragons were the kings of the Blue Dragon clans, the pinnacle of all Blue Dragons.

And now, Lamorein was becoming a Storm Dragon.

The Five-Colored Divine Blood enveloping him began to solidify. It became thicker, harder, covering him like a shell, making it difficult to see the transformation of his figure within. It was like the egg of some ancient creature.

Lamorein silently endured the excruciating pain, allowing the darkness to engulf him.

And as time passed, his aura rose, swelling like a rising tide.

Meanwhile, on the central continent.

The wind and snow were long behind them. The bitter cold of the convergence lands was shaken off.

The sky was clear and cloudless. Garoth and Hitherfell flew side-by-side at a high altitude. The clouds spread out beneath them like an endless, white velvet carpet. Sunlight poured down from directly above, casting the shadows of the two great dragons onto the sea of clouds.

The Red-Iron Dragon's scales shimmered with a dark red metallic sheen under the sun, while the White Dragon's scales shone like polished silver, reflecting dazzling patches of light.

The two of them gradually descended in altitude.

A green plain unfolded in their view. Rivers wound through it like silver ribbons.

After crossing a range of undulating mountains, the terrain changed. On what should have been a flat plain, there was an area that looked like it had been punched from above by a gigantic fist, forming a massive, almost circular depression.

The edges of the depression were ringed by a ridge of low hills. Viewed from high altitude, it looked like a basin.

The White Dragon's gaze narrowed slightly.

"So this is where you destroyed the Abyssal Rift?"

She said, "The story of the Red Emperor single-handedly destroying an Abyssal Rift... I heard it more than once even in the Cold Water Ocean. The expressions on some of those Metal Dragons' faces when they brought it up were absolutely priceless."

"Yes."

Garoth nodded.

"This was the first one."

He said, his gaze falling upon the land below.

At the edge of the basin, the soil was a grayish-brown, mixed with fine black particles, looking like the traces of intense heat. The closer they got to the center of the basin, the darker the soil became. At the very center, the land was still a scorched, blackened wasteland, barren and lifeless, looking like a scar on the earth.

However, on the slopes and edges of the basin, tiny specks of green were already appearing.

Clusters of wild grass pushed up from the gray-brown soil. In some places, low shrubs had even grown.

Although the plants were not tall and the leaves were not thick, they were there, stubbornly taking root, bringing a bit of life back to this dead land.

"Back then, this place was barren, with all life severed."

Garoth said, "Right after I destroyed the Abyssal Rift, this land was completely dead. Forget plants, even insects wouldn't stop here."

"But as long as the Abyssal Rift is sealed and the source of pollution is cut off, the land will slowly repair itself."

He continued, his eyes scanning the green spots.

"No matter how barren a place is, given enough time, something will always grow."

The White Dragon nodded, acknowledging this. "That's true."

"It's the same in some places on the Cold Water Ocean floor. After a volcanic eruption, lava covers everything. Nothing can live. But give it a few decades or a few centuries, and new coral reefs grow up, even more lush than before."

Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she remembered something. "Abyssal Rifts have also appeared on the floor of the Cold Water Ocean."

"More than one. Several of them, big and small."

"I couldn't be bothered to deal with them. The Metal Dragons, though, they were diligent. They went back and forth dealing with them several times. They even came into my territory to do it, which annoyed me to no end."

Garoth was silent.

It had been a long time now, but the scenes of battle against the demons were still vivid in his mind. They had quieted down for now, with no major activity. But Garoth always felt they would come back.

"The Halden Empire is really something, though."

The White Dragon continued. "To have held out this long under the erosion of the Abyss, and even to have pushed the demons back. If it were any other ordinary empire, they probably would have collapsed by now."

"I've seen plenty of so-called 'strong nations' crumble within months when faced with a real crisis."

Garoth said, "The Halden Empire is indeed strong."

The White Dragon lifted her head and glanced at the Sky City between heaven and earth.

"Strong, yes, but who knows how much longer they can hold out."

"The demons aren't to be trifled with. They've been building up their power in the Abyss for so long. There's no way they'll give up just because of a few defeats. Getting pushed back now might just be them gathering for a bigger strike."

"I've lived this long and seen it too many times. The most dangerous time is often when the enemy goes silent."

Hearing this, the Red-Iron Dragon gave a slight nod.

"The demon threat hasn't been neutralized. Halden knows this too. That's why they're in such a hurry to find allies on the surface, to rally any force they can."

The White Dragon tilted her head, looking at Garoth.

"Sounds like you care a lot about this."

"I am the Emperor of Aola. The Atlantis Continent is now mostly my territory."

Garoth said, "If the demons invade again, my kingdom will bear the brunt of it. It's unavoidable. When they come out of the rifts, my kingdom will be the first they attack."

The White Dragon let out a low, snorting laugh.

"What does that have to do with us?"

She spread one of her dragon wings, casually smoothing a crease in the wing membrane.

"Dragons like us are only staying on planet Bernardo because we're familiar with it. Born in this Material Plane, lairing here for so long, we can't be bothered to move."

The White Dragon spoke slowly and deliberately.

"But honestly, if the demons really did attack and things looked bad, we could leave at any time."

"It's not like other Material Planes are uninhabitable, right? I've lived for thousands of years and have been to more places than you've seen dragons your whole life. Changing worlds to live in isn't a big deal for me."

She turned her head to look at Garoth.

"You're the same."

"You might have a kingdom, but as long as you're alive, you can build another one if you lose it. Don't tell me you don't know this. Your blood relatives, your offspring, you can take them all with you. No matter how strong the demons are, are they going to chase you to another Material Plane?"

Garoth didn't dwell on this topic.

He knew the White Dragon was telling the truth, but some things couldn't be decided right now.

After thinking for a moment, he said, "I heard that when the Gold Dragon King was trying to break through to Immortal, you went to the Everbright Dragon Domain and caused his breakthrough to be interrupted."

"Was it a personal grudge? Or was it because the Gold Dragon King wields time power?"

The White Dragon slowly nodded.

"Both of the reasons you mentioned."

She said, a hint of disdain in her tone.

"And besides, that old bastard and I just didn't get along. The moment I arrived at the Everbright Dragon Domain, before we'd even exchanged a few words, we started fighting. The attitude he had, like he was already Immortal, bossing me around."

Saying this, the White Dragon showed a sarcastic smile.

"The Metal Dragons think it was me who caused the Gold Dragon King's breakthrough to fail."

"They go around saying that the Wanfa White Dragon stormed into the Everbright Dragon Domain, interfered with the Gold Dragon King's breakthrough, and made him fail at the last step, preventing him from entering the Immortal realm. They say it as if I deliberately went there to sabotage him."

"But the truth is, he just wasn't good enough."

"When I got there, he was already on the verge of failure. The path he took was a dead end from the very beginning. Time Potency isn't something you can just shape. No matter how much he struggled, he was just running in place. The ruckus I caused actually saved him."

The White Dragon chuckled.

"Oderhaus and all those Metal Dragons who admire him should be thanking me. If he had gambled everything on that breakthrough, he'd most likely be dead. Having me interrupt him at least means he's still alive now."

"Maybe not living very gracefully, but still better than being dead."

Garoth glanced sideways at the White Dragon.

He said thoughtfully, "You seem obsessed with time power as well? Do you want to shape your own Time Potency, or is it for something else?"

The White Dragon didn't answer immediately.

Her gaze drifted forward, landing on the blurry outline of a mountain range. Sunlight was leaking through the gaps in the clouds, casting patches of alternating light and shadow on the ridges, like the earth was paved with pieces of gold.

After a few seconds, she spoke.

"I'm not as unaware of myself as the Gold Dragon King."

She said, her voice dropping a little. "I know that Time Potency is hard to shape."

"It's not something you can get just by forcing it. It requires a special opportunity, or an inborn talent. The Gold Dragon King thought he could do it through sheer accumulation. That was stupid of him."

"My obsession with time power is just for an attempt."

Garoth looked at the White Dragon.

He recalled some rumors he had heard before, stories about the White Dragon that spread among the races. Some were exaggerated, some were hearsay, but some sounded like they might be true.

"I've heard some of your stories."

He said slowly.

"For instance, when you were weak, you had a human partner, a legendary spellcaster."

"Almost every version of the story says you were more cunning than a Green Dragon, full of patience, biding your time and enduring, waiting until the spellcaster's lifespan ran out and he died of old age. They say you only got close to him for the magical resources he possessed."

"But..."

Garoth paused for a moment, then continued, "My guess is, you wanted to try and resurrect this spellcaster."

The White Dragon fell silent for a moment.

The air around them seemed to solidify.

The next second, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she snapped her head around, a ferocious look in her eyes.

The White Dragon bared her fangs at Garoth, the sharp points glinting in the sunlight.

"Perhaps my easy-going attitude has given you some wrong ideas."

Her voice became low and dangerous, like a thunderclap before a storm. "But if you take me for one of those fragile creatures who get all torn up over love and want to die for it... are you trying to insult me?!"

The White Dragon's pupils contracted into thin slits. Her dragon might erupted suddenly, pressing down on Garoth like a tangible wall.

Garoth's body did not move, nor did he say much.

He simply gazed at the White Dragon, his eyes seeming to pierce through her dragon heart and see what was beneath her scales.

The wind blew between them, howling as it passed. Sunlight cast shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Then, under Garoth's gaze, the White Dragon's ferocity gradually faded.

Her gaze shifted away from Garoth, looking up at the distant sky, before she spoke in a faint, melancholy tone.

"The greatest advantage of a great dragon over a short-lived race is this..."

"A great dragon's life is long. We can spend a great deal of time on one thing, like disguising our true feelings and managing a relationship. A short-lived race can't do that. They live too short a time. They never have enough time."

As if recalling something, her voice paused, then continued.

"When I had just come of age, I was still far from Legendary, but I was already obsessed with magic."

"To become stronger, I took a risk, transformed into a human form, and went to a human city."

"I stayed there for a long time. Observing. Learning. Studying."

"I knew what humans liked, what they feared, what they would give everything for... In the end, I chose a legendary spellcaster."

Her tone was very calm, as if she were telling someone else's story.

"He had a rich collection of books, countless treasures. His magic tower held knowledge I had never seen before. Those ancient texts, scrolls, research notes... any one of them would have been enough for me to study for a long time."

"I wanted those things."

The White Dragon's gaze became distant, as if piercing through time, seeing scenes from long ago.

"Later, I got close to him. I was considerate in every way, gentle and virtuous."

"Whatever kind of person he liked, that's what I became. Whatever he needed, I gave him. I disguised myself as his ideal partner, day after day, year after year. Every meeting, every conversation, I meticulously designed."

"As a spellcaster, he was exceptionally gifted and knowledgeable."

"In terms of magic, he was one of the most outstanding humans I have ever met."

"But as a person, he was dull, unsociable, slow to react to things outside of magic. He even gave the impression of being simple-minded. He was almost completely ignorant of many things."

"Heh heh, how could someone like that ever refuse me?"

"And so, he thought he had truly found his soulmate. He taught me a lot of magic. He taught me everything he knew."

"His book collection, his notes, his research findings... all opened up to me."

"He held nothing back from me, like a young beast sharing its toys. He was full of enthusiasm as he told me about his magical research and discoveries. And I listened intently, responding every time, asking questions that pleasantly surprised him, making him feel like I understood him."

The White Dragon's voice paused again before she continued.

"In the end, he died."

"A failed magic experiment caused a severe backlash. He wouldn't listen to my advice. He refused to undergo a dragon vein transformation or any other kind of transformation ritual. He withered away and died."

"At his weakest moment, I showed my true colors. I sneered at his stubbornness and stupidity."

"I had already planned it. When he showed an expression of anger or regret, I would feel the greatest satisfaction and pleasure. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he had been deceived his whole life."

"But instead... he just smiled weakly, tightened his grip on my hand, and then faded into silence."

Saying this, the White Dragon paused for a long time before speaking again.

"Afterwards, I inherited everything from him."

"His knowledge. His research. His magic tower... I walked the path of magic, going further and further, growing stronger and stronger, until I became the Wanfa White Dragon I am today."

Her tone remained at a steady rhythm from beginning to end, without any rise or fall.

Her faceplate looked cold and hard in the sunlight. The dense runes on her scales glimmered with a faint light, like countless closed eyes.

"If it were a Silver Dragon, this might be passed down as a tragic and beautiful love story."

Garoth said. "The versions I heard mostly talk about the despicableness of the evil dragon."

The White Dragon's voice was cold. "You seem to have misunderstood something. I want to resurrect him, but not because of some so-called love or affection."

"That kind of thing only makes me feel sick and disgusted."

Garoth asked, "Then why?"

The White Dragon ground her teeth. "That hateful human... he saw through my heart. He used a smile and his death to make my expectations come to nothing. He denied me the satisfaction of seeing his regret and despair."

"I lost that round, but I don't accept it."

"So I'm going to bring him back to life. I'm going to torment him. Make him live in pain. Make him beg for my forgiveness. I want him to know that his little cleverness back then couldn't change a damn thing."

"Only then can I turn that defeat around and find peace of mind."

Hearing this, the Red-Iron Dragon glanced sideways at her.

"This White Dragon's mouth is so tough it could shatter the planet Bernardo."

He thought to himself.

But he didn't say anything.

Some words would only provoke the other party, and he didn't feel it was necessary to call her out on it. How the White Dragon chose to explain it was her business. What he heard was what he heard.

Just then, the White Dragon showed a look of boredom.

"Let's call it a day here. Your kingdom has some nice scenery, but I have things to do back in the Cold Water Ocean."

She turned her head to look at the Red-Iron Dragon. After a moment of thought, she spoke again.

"It's rare to have a dragon I can talk to this much with. As a token of my appreciation, I'll give you a warning."

Garoth asked, "What warning?"

The White Dragon deliberately played coy and asked back, "Where do you think the most likely danger to you is going to come from right now?"

Garoth thought about it carefully.

Abyssal demons, the Primordial Wastes in space, the three great empires, the Purification Faction of dragons...

Any of them could be a danger.

Every single one was a big problem.

Then, without waiting for his answer, the White Dragon said bluntly, "I'll tell you. The first thing you need to be careful of isn't something inside this Material Plane. It's... the Queen of Colors."

Garoth's gaze sharpened.

Speaking a god's true name directly would allow them to sense it.

'The Queen of Colors' was a euphemism for the Five-Colored Dragon Queen. A discreet way to refer to her without being detected. This was an unspoken agreement among the dragon races, using epithets to talk about gods to avoid unwanted attention.

The White Dragon continued, "You can easily avoid the dangers inside this Material Plane by giving up some things. If the demons come, you can run. If the empires go to war, you can ignore it."

"But any Five-Colored Dragon who reaches Crown-level, or who shows exceptional promise after becoming Legendary, will attract the attention of this one."

"And no matter where you run, you can't escape her."

She said in a deep, ominous tone.

A god's influence on the Material Plane is largely through their followers. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Let's not talk about other gods or dragon gods for now.

Take, for example, the Five-Colored Dragon Queen and the Platinum Dragon God.

The former stops at nothing, uses any means necessary to recruit apostles. Her reputation is notorious. Even the Five-Colored Dragons are reluctant to deal with her. She clings to promising Five-Colored Dragons like a starving wolf eyeing a piece of fat.

The latter is majestic and solemn. He also wants apostles who can carry out his will.

But he scorns to use trickery. He prefers his dragon subjects to pray to him willingly and ask for the dragon god's blessing. However, although the Metal Dragons respect him, it can hardly be called faithful devotion.

As a result, both dragon gods have a handful of followers on planet Bernardo, but they have never had a powerful apostle.

"With your performance, she's definitely going to extend an olive branch to you."

The White Dragon said with certainty.

"If you've refused her before, but seemed indecisive, then her whispers will keep ringing in your ears whenever you're in trouble. She will tempt you to pray to her. She will find you at your most vulnerable moment and speak to you in the gentlest voice."

"Until she opens your heart's defenses and has her way with you."

"If you resist her strongly, making her feel you're impossible to win over, then you need to be careful too."

"This Queen of ours is notoriously petty and vicious."

"When it comes to something she can't have, the more precious it is, the more she's inclined to destroy it. If she can't have it, she won't let anyone else have it either."

Hearing this, Garoth fell silent.

He remembered, during his fierce battle with Siano the Bronze Dragon, when he broke through to Legendary in a fit of rage and killed him, he had vaguely heard a whispering temptation...

Back then... he had been filled with a raging fury and responded with a furious roar.

Seeing Garoth's subtle expression, the White Dragon said with a laugh, "Looks like you've already been in contact with her too."

"In any case, unless you agree, no matter how you react, you are destined to be entangled by her endlessly. I'm quite qualified to talk about this. I've been dealing with her longer than you've been alive."

In the end, the Red-Iron Dragon nodded his massive head.

"I had almost forgotten about her existence... Mmm, I've received your warning."

He said.

He truly hadn't thought about this problem for a while. In the past few years, all the threats he faced were tangible ones. Demons, enemies, rivals.

The danger at the level of gods still seemed distant.

But the White Dragon was right. This wasn't something that could just be ignored.