Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

The Wanfa Dragon Hitherfell cast a teleportation spell and directly departed from the territory of the Aola Kingdom. At the same time, Garoth raised his sharp claws and fiercely tore at the space in front of him.

A deep rift opened in space.

He stepped into it, and the rift closed immediately. The next moment, he had already returned to the Red Emperor Capital, back to the dragon court position where his Star-Self clone had originally been.

The sky was clear blue, and the clouds were like tufts of cotton.

Sunlight poured down from the high sky, illuminating the entire elevated platform brightly.

The iron dragon was pacing here, his steps unhurried, occasionally raising his head to glance around, waiting with a hint of anxiety.

Seeing Garoth's figure appear on the platform and not appearing to have been in a fight, Gordon's eyes lit up immediately, and he strode over.

"All taken care of?"

He walked quickly to Garoth's front and asked, "The White Scourge won't suddenly come back to strike, will she?"

Garoth said, "Mm. She came here mainly to see me, to prove a few things. We've communicated now, and barring any surprises, she most likely won't become our enemy."

"Prove a few things?"

The iron dragon was stunned for a moment and asked curiously, "Prove what?"

Garoth shook his head and didn't say more.

The iron dragon didn't press either. He let out a long sigh, his tone much lighter. "Regardless of anything else, just being able to confirm the White Scourge won't be our enemy is good enough. Saves me from being on tenterhooks."

As he spoke, a lingering look of lingering fear remained on his faceplate.

Garoth looked at Hitherfell and asked, "Red iron dragon, he seems very afraid of that Wanfa Dragon, but as far as you remember, they've never had any contact. Could it be that just hearing her legendary deeds was enough to instill fear in him?"

Hearing this, Gordon blinked his eyes.

"Of course you'd be afraid."

Without any hesitation, he said, "You, Sorog, Samantha... when you were all in slumber, that was precisely the time when the White Scourge was most frequently wreaking havoc in the Warmwater Ocean. Plus, the two territories border each other. The Warmwater Ocean lies right to the north of the Aola Kingdom. I was constantly worried she might set her sights on us, that one day on a whim, she'd fly over from the Warmwater Ocean and start causing destruction on our turf."

Speaking up to here, his voice paused.

Then, with full justification, Gordon continued, "Most crucially, she's a magic-obsessed dragon."

"Even the most domineering dragons don't want to face those dragon lunatics. Who knows what goes on in their heads? If they're in a good mood today, they might chat with you for a bit. If they're in a bad mood tomorrow, they might turn you into magical experiment materials."

"And what's more, she's a Mandate of Heaven-level lunatic."

"That's not just a trouble issue. That's a life-or-death issue."

It had to be said, the red iron dragon's words made some sense.

Among many intelligent creature races, normal individuals always give a wide berth to kin with mental problems.

Because you can't gauge their behavior using common sense. You can't predict their next move. That very uncertainty is enough to make one feel uneasy.

And when the individual with the mental problem also possesses overwhelming power, that unease transforms into genuine fear.

"But, this Hitherfell isn't necessarily a true magic obsessive."

Garoth said.

The iron dragon was taken aback, tilting his head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"What are the characteristics of a magic-obsessed dragon?"

Garoth asked back.

"A body covered in magic runes etched into the scales, treating magic as everything, willing to pay any price to study it."

The iron dragon answered without thinking.

"Correct. A body covered in magic runes etched into the scales is seen as the iconic symbol of a magic-obsessed dragon."

"But that doesn't represent the whole picture."

"It's just that, aside from magic-obsessed dragons, few great dragons can endure the dual pain of body and soul during self-modification. Those runes look like they're on the scales, but in reality, they're completely fused with the dragon itself, not just surface-level."

"Enduring one or two runes might be bearable, but covering the whole body? That pain isn't something a normal dragon can withstand."

The iron dragon nodded, showing agreement.

Garoth thought for a moment and said, "During my conversation with the Wanfa Dragon, I didn't sense that her pursuit of magic had reached the level of an obsessive."

"She pursues magic because it helps her achieve a certain goal, not because she's infatuated with magic itself."

"Then why did she cover her scales with runes?" The iron dragon asked, puzzled.

Garoth replied, "Probably formed by a different obsession. One strong enough to make her endure the pain of runic modification."

The iron dragon fell silent, seemingly digesting this information.

At this moment, a look of contemplation appeared in Garoth's eyes. He suddenly said, "Gordon, I have a question for you. Answer me honestly."

The iron dragon nodded, asking with confusion, "What question?"

Garoth's gaze fell upon the iron dragon. "There's a dragon who's inherently insecure. And even after becoming stronger, that insecurity didn't fade. Instead, it grew stronger alongside his power, driving him to desperately pursue more strength, all for the sake of ultimate peace of mind."

"Would you say such a dragon is similar to a magic-obsessed dragon?"

Without any hesitation, the iron dragon answered, "Similar? In essence, they're exactly the same. Both have mental issues."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Think about it. A normal dragon gets stronger, and they should feel at ease in their heart."

"If your strength is sufficient, no other creature dares to mess with you. What's there to be insecure about? If getting stronger makes you *more* insecure, it shows that dragon had something wrong with them from the very beginning. If that isn't a mental problem, what is?"

Garoth was silent for a while.

*The White Scourge isn't the crazy one; I am?*

*Oh, no wonder I always felt my mental state was great. Ever since I went crazy, I've been so much more mentally sound.*

He cracked a small joke to himself in his mind, then gathered his thoughts.

"Gordon doesn't know the specifics. There are things I can't explain clearly to him, so his judgment isn't quite right," Garoth mused to himself. "Anyway, my mind is sound. There's no problem."

No one is perfect, and the same goes for dragons.

He accepted the flaws in his character. Besides, it couldn't really be called a flaw in him.

His insecurity drove him to constantly grow stronger, to keep evolving, to walk step by step to where he is today. Without this insecurity, he might have been satisfied at some stage long ago and grown slowly.

From this perspective, it wasn't a flaw. It was motivation.

"Gordon, your notification was very timely."

Garoth changed the subject, saying to the iron dragon, "Keep it up. Summon me again when something similar happens."

Gordon nodded his head and said, "I'll only bother you when it involves a Mandate of Heaven. For everything else, the kingdom can basically handle it."

The Aola of today had already become a behemoth.

Without mentioning the great empires, no kingdom had ever had a territory that could rival the current Aola. Under the Aola Kingdom, there was already a considerable number of crown-level Legendary forces.

"Mm, I'll leave this place to you." Garoth said.

Then he walked to the center of the high platform, coiled up in the sunlight, and closed his eyes.

His scales glowed with a dark red luster under the sun's rays, rising and falling slightly with his breath. His body gradually relaxed, and his aura became calm, as if he had entered some kind of dormant state.

At the same time.

Just as the Star-Self Dragon closed its eyes and entered standby mode, the red iron dragon coiled in the desolate minor world opened its eyes.

He stretched his neck, making a few crisp sounds of bone joints popping, and then began to organize the information he had gained from the conversation with Hitherfell.

"Hitherfell acts with a strong sense of purpose. She isn't an evil dragon who does as she pleases. She's not a chaotic dragon type. Communication with her isn't difficult. There's a possibility for alliance or alignment."

He thought to himself.

Then, another question surfaced in Garoth's mind.

"If I were to go to war with Hitherfell, could I win?"

Garoth weighed the matter seriously, then shook his head slightly.

Hitherfell was a Level 39 Mandate of Heaven. She had walked very far within the Mandate of Heaven tier, only a step away from Immortal. Her magical prowess was unfathomable. Those runes all over her body weren't just decorations; each one contained immense power, capable of unleashing devastating spells at any moment.

And him? He had just recently broken through to the crown-level, and his level was only just over thirty.

He had his own advantages.

But whether these advantages could make up for the gap between him and Hitherfell, he wasn't sure in his heart.

"Hitherfell should be a Level 39 Mandate of Heaven. Same as the Gold Dragon King. Their next step is Immortal." He muttered to himself. "Compared to Mandate of Heaven dragons who have been famous for so long, I'm still a bit lacking."

"Perhaps I can defend myself, but it would be very difficult to defeat her. And forget defeating her; just to match her equally, I would at least need to make some breakthroughs within the crown-level tier."

Garoth didn't lose sight of his own abilities because he had easily defeated Reinhardt.

Reinhardt was a Level 35 Mandate of Heaven human, having just broken through not long ago, and his foundation wasn't stable yet.

There were also gaps between Mandate of Heaven and Mandate of Heaven.

The Wanfa Dragon Hitherfell, the Golden Dragon King Audothos... Mandate of Heaven dragons like them were absolutely more than a tier stronger than Reinhardt.

However, Garoth didn't sell himself short either.

After all, he wasn't even a Mandate of Heaven. He had only just reached the crown-level tier. Speaking purely in terms of level, he was at the bottom of the crown-level.

But in reality, he was already equivalent to a Mandate of Heaven dragon.

There were probably few dragons that had just broken through to Mandate of Heaven who could be stronger than him now.

The red iron dragon shook his head, gathering his thoughts.

He focused his gaze and once again looked at the meteorite fragment that had fallen from deep space onto the Arotala Continent.

It lay quietly in a corner of the minor world. Its surface was covered in a layer of charred, black fusion crust, as if burned by high temperatures. The fusion crust had many fine cracks, and through these cracks, the internal material could be vaguely seen.

Something dark red, like coagulated blood plasma, was faintly glowing.

Garoth stepped closer, reached out a claw, and touched it directly.

The tip of his claw made contact with the meteorite's surface.

In an instant, a blinding dark red light burst from the meteorite's cracks, as if it had come alive.

At the same time, Garoth only felt a wave of invisible frenzied flame spread out from the meteorite, highly concentrated, surging toward his body like a flood.

The sensation was hard to describe.

It was like something was burning in his blood vessels, crawling through his bones, and squirming under his scales.

It was an experience both painful and pleasurable.

"Khhh...!"

The red iron dragon stumbled back two steps, letting out a deep, strained growl.

He arched his back, propped himself up on all fours, and his muscles were tensed to the breaking point, as if bearing some immense pressure. The tips of his claws plowed deep furrows into the ground, sending gravel and sand flying in all directions.

His eyes had now completely turned blood red.

And it wasn't just his eyes. Blood vessels, like winding tree roots, bulged from the corners of the dragon's eyes, crawled out, and extended along his cheeks.

They even directly emerged on the scales of his face, covering most of it.

Dark red lines crisscrossed, making him look both eerily beautiful and dangerous.

*Crack!*

The dragon flicked his tail in irritation, whipping deep trenches into the ground.

*Crackle, crackle...*

At the same time, his dragon scales flared and trembled continuously, producing a dense, crisp rattling sound.

Some scales were visibly mutating and proliferating. Their edges began to extend outward, growing new patterns and protrusions. The mutated dragon scales collided with other normal scales, producing a metallic clang and shooting out red-hot sparks.

It wasn't just the scales.

The spikes on Gordon's body also changed.

From the head spikes to the tail spikes, along the row of sharp spines arranged down his back, some of them began to grow, extending outward at a visible rate, interlocking like jagged fangs, uneven and messy.

"My body is mutating? Deforming?"

"The concentration of frenzied flame in me is now so high that it's producing some mutative power."

Garoth clenched his jaw, maintaining his clarity amidst the assault of pain and pleasure.

Furthermore, he didn't panic. Instead of being alarmed, he was overjoyed.

This was the change he had been waiting for.

"Haah!"

The red iron dragon raised his head, closed his eyes, and took deep breaths continuously.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

The heavy, thunderous sound of his breathing gradually weakened.

Half an hour later, he reopened his eyes. They were still blood red, but the irritation and ferocity within them were almost invisible, replaced by a cold, sharp, and calm gaze.

At this time, the red iron dragon's appearance had undergone a significant change.

He lowered his head to inspect his own body, observing carefully.

His scales were still layered and interlocking, but their arrangement was no longer neat. There were some abrupt and discordant places.

Between his chest and abdomen, several hundred dragon scales had flipped outward. The edges of the flipped scales had proliferated fine serrated protrusions, like the barbs on a carnivorous plant.

The changes in some scales on his back were even more drastic. They had completely lost their original shape.

They had swollen, twisted, and piled up, forming irregular clusters of horny protrusions, like metal that had been melted and then re-solidified, with edges sharp as knives.

The most noticeable change was his spikes.

The spines that originally ran from the top of his head along his back all the way to the tip of his tail, each sharper and more pointed than the last, with perfect arcs, like a row of finely polished swords.

Now, they had become uneven.

Some had thickened, becoming short and blunt, like broken bones that had regrown. Some had lengthened, becoming thin and sharp, curving in different directions like bone spurs squeezed out from within. A few spikes had even split at the tips, dividing into two or three prongs, each end sharp as a needle.

Garoth raised his claw and stroked his own dragon face.

His visage had changed too.

The scales on both sides of his cheekbones had thickened and bulged outward, as if he were wearing a bony faceplate. The horny layer on his lower jaw had thickened and proliferated, adding an extra layer of protection. From the side, the entire contour of his lower jaw looked more rugged and massive.

The blood vessels at the corners of his eyes were still floating on the surface of his scales, a dark red that spread from the corners of his eyes all the way to his ear holes.

This made him look as if he were squinting in anger.

"This appearance..."

"On the outside, I look much more ferocious and sinister than before. Like an evil dragon among evil dragons."

He slightly furrowed the scales between his brows.

This wasn't the look he wanted.

He didn't care about his appearance, but he also didn't want to become too terrifying and hideous. After all, he still had to interact with various intelligent creatures, and a too-frightening appearance would bring unnecessary trouble.

Subsequently, Garoth carefully studied his own changes, feeling the strength of the mutated scales and spikes.

The raised edges of the mutated dragon scales were razor-sharp.

The mutated spikes had become like fangs growing on his body, also more aggressive than before. The change in his faceplate gave him an additional layer of defense, covering his original cheekbone and lower jaw areas.

However, this change was not harmonious.

Those proliferated scales, twisted spikes, protruding bone plates... they looked like they had been randomly pieced together, without any polishing or refinement. As a result, they had created some weak points that Garoth didn't have before.

For instance, the gaps between the flipped scales on his chest and abdomen had become larger.

This made it easier to penetrate.

"Uncontrollable, uncoordinated, imperfect... This is mutation."

"It's like some erroneous evolutionary branches sprouting from normal evolutionary foundations, without considering whether the whole is adaptable, with different parts evolving independently."

Garoth seemed to have an epiphany.

All along, the traits he had evolved were very well-matched.

When a single organ evolved, it also involved changes in his overall being. It's just that the changes in other organs were subtle and didn't constitute a fundamental evolution.

For instance, when he strengthened his claws.

His bones, muscles, and tendons would adjust accordingly to ensure the new claws could perform at their maximum efficiency.

Another example is when he strengthened his respiratory system and stomach; his skin, fascia, and even the positions of his internal organs would subtly adjust to accommodate the new structure.

Following his overall changes, some previously unsuitable traits would be gradually optimized away.

Now, the mutation produced by absorbing the frenzied flame from the meteorite fragment had caused some of Garoth's scales and spikes to disrupt his overall sense of balance, mutating independently.

This was a leapfrogging, disorderly change.

It didn't follow Garoth's own evolutionary style. It wasn't gradual. It didn't coordinate with other parts. Instead, it grew on its own, changed on its own, completely disregarding overall compatibility.

In contrast, his adaptive evolution, as long as the method was suitable, was actually controllable.

Garoth stared at the already dim meteorite fragment.

"It's not complete. The frenzied flame it gives me is limited. I've only just slightly mutated."

"If it were a large-scale mutation, what would I become? Tentacles growing from my back? Giant fanged maws forming on my chest or arm guards? Bone spurs covering my entire body..."

"In any case, this is indeed a direction for evolution, just too random."

Garoth recalled the appearances of some rage beasts.

Those creatures twisted by mutative power. Some had grown extra heads. Some had eyes and mouths scattered across their bodies. Some had a number of limbs that completely exceeded the normal range.

Randomness equals uncontrollability.

That meant mutation and evolution could produce results that he didn't want.

Garoth was a pragmatist, but he wasn't purely that in this regard. He didn't want to turn himself into a deformed, grotesque monster just for the sake of power.

"These are all forces within the realm of evolution, involving future Potency construction. I must try them."

"I've only just grasped a bit of mutative power now. There's plenty of time. In the future, perhaps I can gradually adapt this uncontrollable mutation into something controllable."

He touched the mutated dragon scales on his chest and abdomen, pondering deeply.

Then, Garoth concentrated his mind, immersing himself in the changes of the frenzied flame, groping for how to cause himself to mutate again.

The flaws of randomness and uncontrollability were obvious, but it also meant that if the number of mutation evolutions was high, it could potentially bring Garoth unexpected surprises, pushing open the doors to a new world.