Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

The gray sky of the small world pressed down even lower, as if it had collapsed a layer from the dragon's roar.

Garoth stopped his breath.

The last embers of blazing flame faded between his fangs. He released the chrome dragon from his claws, letting the now-struggling body crash heavily onto the scorched lava platform.

Boom.

Debris scattered, dust rose, then slowly settled.

Claudia lay sideways among the rubble, limbs stiffly extended for a moment, then curled up like a heap of mud, collapsing limply.

Pain, anger, humiliation.

These emotions flickered across his face in succession.

But besides that, there was a lingering sense of something unfulfilled remaining in his consciousness.

After regaining a bit of clarity, the chrome dragon's chest heaved violently, hot smoke seeping from the gaps in his scales. His pupils refocused, a trace of reluctance flashing within them.

Garoth crouched down.

"You think you're unyielding, Claudia."

"You see yourself as a tough bone that would rather die than bend, that would rather choose death than bow to another dragon. You think you're strong-willed, noble, majestic, an inviolable Mandate dragon."

He paused, raising a forelimb, using a single claw to lightly tap the chrome dragon's snout.

"But in reality, you've already knelt."

"Not before me, but before hunger. You've been groveling to it for a long time."

Garoth looked down at the chrome dragon and continued, "You knelt before it, wagging your tail and begging. It told you to bite, and you bit. It told you to swallow, and you swallowed. It manipulated you like a puppet, completely controlling everything about you."

"You thought you were making choices, but it was always choosing for you."

"You're not a Mandate dragon. You're just a wild dog driven by hunger."

The truth, like a sharp blade, pierced through his defenses.

"Shut up!"

The chrome dragon's face twisted with anger, a hoarse growl tearing from his throat. His fangs bared, and his foreclaw scraped the ground.

Garoth tilted his head slightly, looking at him with a calm gaze.

"You've been groveling to hunger for millennia. Millennia, Claudia. Think about that number. And I, in a very short time, can pull you out of this abyss."

"You've already tasted it twice."

"Just now, and once before. And I can see that you're completely intoxicated by the feeling of being full. That's no illusion. Your body has truly quieted down for the first time."

At the mention of satiety, the chrome dragon's breath hitched.

His body still retained the fading fullness, a warm and satisfying sensation that made his stomach tingle slightly. So, although he wanted to retort, to say something to defend his dignity, the words stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

Because my body is honest.

The feeling of being full is real. It's a peace I've never experienced before.

"Since you must submit to something—hunger, or me—then submit to me, take a new master. What's wrong with that?"

"At least I won't keep you hungry forever."

Garoth's whisper continued, sounding in the chrome dragon's ear.

The chrome dragon didn't answer.

His lower jaw opened slightly, then closed, his fangs clacking together with a crisp sound.

The red-iron dragon stood up, looking down at him.

"At the very least, I won't hoard all the glory."

Garoth continued, "Follow me, and I'll share with you—glory, feats, spoils of war, everything that belongs to a victor, you can have a share."

"You won't be my puppet. You can be my comrade."

"But sinking into hunger..."

He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over the chrome dragon's curled-up body.

"It will only slowly kill you. Day by day, you'll go crazier, until one day you don't even remember your own name, drooling like a beast, crawling through the mud, and then dying completely, leaving behind an empty shell and a story mocked and ridiculed by countless intelligent races."

"Your name won't be remembered. Only your ugliness will be."

A moment of silence.

Wind blew across the platform, kicking up fine ash, spinning a small whirlwind between the two great dragons before dissipating.

"Heh... you speak so easily."

Claudia slowly pushed himself up, his forelimbs bracing on the rubble.

"What am I? A Mandate existence standing almost at the peak of the Material Plane. An ancient chrome dragon. The great Deep Freeze Tyrant."

"And you? Just crown-level, not even a Mandate."

He lifted his head, the madness in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by stubborn pride.

"Make me, a higher being, bow and grovel to a lower crown-level dragon? Make me follow behind you, like a lackey, sharing the prey you've picked over?"

He bared his teeth.

"That kind of disgraceful thing, I, Claudia, could never do. My pride is all I have left."

Garoth looked at him, unangered.

"You look down on crown-level?"

"That's right!"

Claudia said firmly, baring his fangs again.

"Then that's your problem."

Garoth was very calm. "A crown-level one tier below you captured you alive. That's already a fact. You know it in your heart."

Claudia's fangs retracted a little, but he still glared at the red-iron dragon.

Garoth continued, "And another thing. Not long ago, in a war involving two empires, two Saints, two Immortals, and an incarnation of a deity."

"The crown-level you look down on personally ended the divine incarnation that descended upon the Material Plane."

Claudia was stunned.

His lower jaw opened slightly, then closed, his tail sweeping back and forth among the rubble.

"...Liar. You're lying!"

Then the chrome dragon's voice rose several pitches, roaring, his breath hissing between his teeth: "Do you expect me to believe such an absurd statement? A crown-level killing a divine incarnation?"

"Not even the lowest beast would believe that."

"You underestimate me too much."

"I'm a bit crazy, but I'm not stupid!" He slammed a foreclaw against the ground, sending debris flying. "Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I'll kneel just because you made up some epic?"

Garoth's expression didn't change. "I don't need to explain to you."

His gaze was calm, without joy or anger.

The chrome dragon stared at Garoth, trying to find traces of a lie on that dark-scaled face.

But he found nothing.

Those eyes held no evasion or guilt, nor any eagerness to convince him.

Could he be telling the truth?

Claudia was a little dazed.

His reason told him that a crown-level killing a divine incarnation was too absurd.

But on the other hand, deep down, he felt that he really couldn't judge the red-iron dragon in front of him by conventional standards.

He had personally experienced the other's strength.

If he could free him from hunger, and as a crown-level had killed a divine incarnation...

Submitting to him might not be so bad?

Claudia was rationally considering this possibility when, suddenly, that damned hunger returned.

Unbeknownst to him, the satisfaction from before had completely faded.

The warm contentment retreated from his body like an ebbing tide, replaced by the familiar emptiness and burning anxiety. Hunger surged back, spreading through his blood vessels to the tips of his limbs, as if every muscle fiber was screaming for food.

His stomach contracted violently.

His lower jaw opened involuntarily. Saliva stretched in silver threads from between his fangs, dripping onto the rubble, forming ice crystals.

Reason was fading.

Madness surged back into his eyes. Blood vessels rapidly dilated, covering his eyeballs like a spiderweb.

He saw the red-iron dragon's throat.

So close.

Right in front of him.

Beneath the scales was warm flesh. He could almost smell it—the allure of life itself.

The next second, Claudia's pupils narrowed into vertical slits.

He didn't think. He pounced instinctively.

Then, a dragon claw swept in from the side, clutching a small dragonqi bomb, and landed squarely on his forehead.

Boom!

Claudia's vision flashed white, then went black.

The last thing he perceived was the rough sensation of his faceplate hitting the ground, and the blinding light erupting from between the red-iron dragon's claws.

Blazing, scorching, filled with destruction.

Then he knew nothing more.

Garoth retracted his claws and looked down at the chrome dragon lying among the rubble.

The ancient chrome dragon's posture was extremely undignified.

Limbs splayed, wings half-spread and crushed beneath him, tail twisted awkwardly over a protruding rock, like a fish left to dry on the shore.

His fangs were still bared, but they had lost all menace, now looking somewhat comical.

"His mental state is indeed unstable."

Garoth muttered to himself.

He recalled what had just happened.

"The chrome dragon's eyes clearly wavered when he heard I killed a divine incarnation."

"Reason told him it was possible, and his pride was backing down. But then hunger regained the upper hand, washing away the rationality he had just built up. He was driven by instinct again, recklessly pouncing."

Garoth looked thoughtfully at the unconscious chrome dragon.

Based on his extensive experience in taming dragons, Claudia had the potential to be tamed.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time, he knew that he couldn't make him submit with just a few words. This ancient chrome dragon's pride and madness coexisted.

And ultimately, that was because his mental state was abnormal.

For instance, a normal dragon should recognize that his own crown-level value surpassed that of a normal Mandate.

That was obvious logic. How could a crown-level who captured a Mandate be measured by ordinary crown-level standards?

But Claudia stubbornly believed that bowing to a crown-level was a disgrace.

That kind of thinking was abnormal.

"Once isn't enough. I'll repeat it a few times."

Garoth calculated in his mind. "According to the methods mentioned in the inheritance, the best way to treat binge-eating disorder is to make the patient feel full. After several courses of treatment, the gluttonous dragon's mental state will gradually stabilize."

As he thought, he carefully reviewed the inheritance content.

Among it, he didn't find what he wanted to know.

Garoth had also realized that his own mental state was a bit problematic.

The constant unease haunting his heart, the tension that something was about to happen—even in a safe environment, he couldn't fully relax.

However, Garoth didn't pay much attention to it.

Just like the joke he had made with the Silver Dragon King.

In this chaotic and dangerous era, living in a high-pressure environment for years, who didn't have some mental issues? Being completely normal was what was abnormal.

He extended a claw, grabbing the chrome dragon by the nape of his neck, and lifted him.

His other claw tore through space.

He held the chrome dragon and stepped into the rift.

Cold Sacred Spring.

Sunlight leaked in from the rift, as bright as when Garoth had left.

Not much time had passed.

Nereus was still sitting on the rock, staring blankly at the lake, her posture almost unchanged. When she heard the sound of space tearing, her ears twitched slightly, and she turned around.

She saw Garoth dragging the ancient chrome dragon out of the rift.

The chrome dragon's head hung limp, his limbs dangling in midair, his tail dragging on the ground as the red-iron dragon hauled him to the shore. He was unconscious, his injuries better than last time, but still not light.

"How is it?"

Nereus asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone. "Can you really tame a Mandate great dragon?"

Garoth dropped the chrome dragon onto the ground with a dull thud.

He looked down at the unconscious dragon and said, "I just let him taste the feeling of being full again. He reacted, and it was strong. His heart is clearly wavering. He's just stubborn, and his mind occasionally loses control."

"So?"

Nereus asked.

"So the chances of success are high. It just needs more time. Repeatedly let him experience satiety, let his body remember the feeling, and give reason more leverage to fight against madness."

He said.

Nereus nodded lightly.

"A Mandate. Worth the time." Her gaze fell on Claudia, carefully appraising him. "And judging by his age, he has the potential to break through to Immortal."

Among dragon Mandates, Claudia was actually considered quite young.

Garoth lightly nodded.

"The intelligence assessment on this guy mentioned that he likely possesses some growth-type traits."

Growth-type traits, not evolutionary-type.

The basis for this judgment was that Claudia hadn't undergone any significant changes in appearance or traits. His form had remained relatively stable, with no sudden leaps or mutations. His growth was primarily rapid in terms of numerical values and levels.

Nereus's gaze shifted to the red-iron dragon.

"Since you can't achieve the goal in a short time..."

She asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

"Leave him here for now."

Garoth said naturally. "Keep him sealed. I'll come every once in a while."

The Silver Dragon King was silent for a moment.

Her eyes looked at Garoth darkly. After a few seconds, she spoke. "You mean you knocked him out, left him with me, and then let me continue to watch him?"

"Exactly."

Garoth's expression didn't change, as if it were the most natural arrangement.

Nereus looked at him, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.

"Do I also need to thank you for thoughtfully providing me with a means to fight against twilight?"

Garoth grinned, revealing sharp fangs.

"That's not necessary. The Dragon King and I need not stand on ceremony."

"Your health and clarity are the blessings of the entire dragon domain. I'm just doing my small part."

Nereus looked at him and said, "Your faceplate is as thick as a city wall."

Garoth remained unmoved. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The Silver Dragon King shook her head slightly and sighed softly.

She didn't say more to Garoth. She stood up, walked over to the chrome dragon, extended a claw, grabbed him by the nape, and dragged him toward the lake. She pulled the chrome dragon under with her as she sank.

The lake surface calmed, with only a few ripples slowly spreading out.

"I should head back to Aola too."

The red-iron dragon looked up toward his kingdom, thinking.

But then, his gaze narrowed slightly, and he looked toward a certain direction in the Vophal Dragon Domain.

"Before that,"

"I should first fulfill my duty as a father and give my offspring some guidance."

He thought.

So, the red-iron dragon spread his wings and soared across the sky.

Through the Bloodline Connection, he precisely located Gabriel's position. Then, in a very enthusiastic manner, he guided Gabriel in some combat techniques through actual combat.

Whether Gabriel enjoyed that guidance was another question.

Satisfied, Garoth tore through space and left the Vophal Dragon Domain.

Rhen Plateau, Red Emperor Capital.

Rip!

Space shattered, and the red-iron dragon's figure leaped out, appearing directly atop the dragon court.

The wind howled.

Garoth folded his wings, his four claws landing steadily on the high platform.

At the highest point of the entire kingdom, he turned around, facing the vast territory. His tail slowly coiled around his side as he crouched down.

Wherever his gaze reached, mountains and rivers spread out like a painting.

The Red Emperor Capital cascaded layer upon layer beneath him.

Further away, the fields on the plains were swept by the wind, creating waves of green. The faint smoke of towns could be seen rising. Wide trade roads wound through the wilderness, connecting prosperous settlements one after another.

No smoke of gunpowder, no burning villages, no scattered legions fleeing across the wilderness.

This continent was now a land of peace.

"It's more reassuring to be back in my own territory."

Garoth thought.

He hadn't actually been away from Arotala for very long.

From arriving at the South Foothill Plain to participate in the war, to killing the divine incarnation and retreating, to sleeping and recovering in the Vophal Dragon Domain, dreaming and talking with Cerora, dealing with Claudia—none of it had taken very long.

But the tension in his heart only truly loosened here.

In the war-torn Arotala, the war between the Elves and Orcs continued. But on the Atlantis Continent, at least within the borders of the Aola Kingdom, the various races had achieved peaceful coexistence.

Occasional friction and disputes between nations.

But under Aola's governance, they never escalated into war. The very air here was filled with a flavor of peace and tranquility.

And Garoth actually liked peace.

But... his gaze shifted westward.

The West.

That was a different matter.

The tyranny of the Lord of Thunder still hung over the western lands.

Oppressed kingdoms languished under brutal rule, the people lived in fear and deprivation. Although, with the covert support of the Aola Kingdom, resistance organizations constantly fought back, they couldn't change the overall tragic situation.

Levies, enslavement, slaughter.

That was the theme of the West.

But Garoth knew this problem would be solved sooner or later.

It was just a matter of time, just a matter of method.

He temporarily set aside the thoughts about the West, looking back at his own territory. The contours of clouds and mountains were reflected in his pupils.

At that moment, the sound of wings breaking the air came from behind.

Garoth didn't turn around. The scent reached his nose first—it was his blood kin.

Gordon landed on the edge of the high platform, folding his wings.

The iron dragon's scales showed a deep black, like quenched steel, under the sunlight. The spikes on his back rose and fell slightly with his breathing.

"The satellite detected a high-energy reaction suddenly appearing at the top of the dragon court. I guessed you were back."

"Your guess is correct."

Garoth said, still looking into the distance.

Gordon blinked, his gaze sweeping over the dark red-iron dragon's body.

His eyes brightened with surprise. "The color of your scales looks more like an iron dragon now. It's changed a lot compared to before."

Early on, Garoth's scale color was closer to an iron dragon.

Black as the base, with a hint of frosted silver around the edges, but with some lava-like textures on the surface.

Later, with his successive growth and evolution, his scale color had become a relatively bright crimson for a long time, closer to a red dragon.

And now, the scale color scheme was close to what it had been at the very beginning.

A dark black as the main tone, with deep red patterns, like lava flowing between black rocks. This color made him look both steady and dangerous in the sunlight.

As he spoke, Gordon stepped closer.

He followed Garoth's gaze to the territory for a moment, then turned back, his eyes burning much hotter.

"You went to Arotala and killed a true god."

"This news has already reached Aola."

"Is it true or false? It sounds too exaggerated, but it's not just a rumor."

He asked, staring intently at Garoth.

Garoth nodded slightly.

"True," he said. "But I didn't kill a true god, just a divine incarnation."

Hearing this, Gordon's pupils dilated slightly, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled hot air.

"Hmm? It really does involve a deity?!"

"My dear brother, you're like a scorching sun in the darkness, always creating miracles wherever you are."

He had originally thought the so-called killing of a deity might be an exaggeration.

Perhaps a powerful being disguised as a deity had died under his brother's claws.

He hadn't expected it to really involve a deity. Although it was just an incarnation, an incarnation was still a part of a god.

The iron dragon was now very excited.

The spikes on his back were almost all raised, his eyes shining like two stars.

"Our Aola Kingdom now controls three-quarters of Atlantis. We have a Mandate below, numerous crown-levels, and an emperor who can kill a divine incarnation."

"Brother, we should take the next step."

He paused, his gaze burning as he looked at Garoth.

"Aola's size is too great. It's long surpassed the conventional meaning of a kingdom. We should change to a more resounding name, let the entire Bernardo re-recognize us."

"For example, the Holy Aola Empire, the Iron-Melted Empire..."

His voice was full of longing. "I think these names sound more domineering and suit us better. What do you think?"

Garoth looked at his blood kin and shook his head slightly.

"Now is not the time."

"A momentary victory doesn't warrant a grand declaration."

"The name of an empire is never self-proclaimed. When we reach that step, we will naturally receive the corresponding title. There's no need to rush."

The great dragon lifted his head slightly, his gaze passing over the plains and mountains, landing on a higher place.

"And, many things are not yet resolved."

Gordon followed his gaze.

In the extremely high regions of the sky, above the clouds, the faint outlines of giant cities could be seen floating there, like nails driven into the sky.

"These Sky Cities haven't had any problems for quite a while."

Garoth's voice deepened slightly. "The demons that previously invaded Atlantis have gone quiet, disappearing like an ebbing tide. But things won't end that easily."

Hearing this, Gordon also calmed down.

His spikes slowly lay flat, his breathing becoming steady.

If the demon calamity wasn't over yet, even with Halden's help, the Aola Kingdom couldn't let its guard down. It needed to remain vigilant, ready to respond to new threats at any time.

But if the demon calamity truly ended...

Two tigers couldn't share one mountain.

If the common threat disappeared, then the contradictions that had been temporarily set aside because of that threat would resurface. The relationship between the Aola Kingdom and Halden might become more complicated.

An empire entrenched in the Material Plane.

In reality, more dangerous than demons.

"Garoth, my dear brother."

Gordon snapped back to reality, looking seriously at the red-iron dragon.

"No matter what the future holds, no matter when those demons come, or when Halden becomes our enemy, I have always believed in one thing."

Garoth tilted his head, waiting for him to continue.

"Under your leadership, we, the Aolan dragons, will surely ride the wind and waves."

The iron dragon's voice was steady and powerful. "We will march step by step to farther places, cross abysses, surmount peaks, reach heights that our enemies cannot, leaving them only to look up."

Garoth smiled slightly.

He turned around, raised a foreclaw, and gently placed it on the iron dragon's shoulder.

"If one day we achieve the goal you speak of, it won't be solely because of my leadership."

"You also contributed to it."

"Sorog, Samantha, you, me... This will be our shared glory."

Garoth said.

The iron dragon's body shuddered, and he lowered his head slightly.

Then, he raised his head again, grinning. "By my calculation, Sorog and Samantha should be waking up from their slumber soon."

"Hmph. They definitely won't expect so many major events to have happened while they were asleep."

Gordon was looking forward to the awakening of his two blood kin.

On one hand, he had been managing the kingdom on their behalf, running himself ragged with various affairs.

His originally robust body had almost thinned out a bit because of it. Although, given the size of a dragon, that bit wasn't obvious, it was still there.

He didn't want to toil so much anymore; he wanted to hand the responsibility back to Sorog.

On the other hand, he felt he had done a pretty good job.

When Sorog and Samantha had successively fallen into slumber, it was mainly out of necessity that they entrusted the kingdom to him.

They probably hadn't had high expectations, just thinking it was better than having no dragon in charge. When they woke up and saw the Aola Kingdom as it was now, they would definitely be impressed by him.

Then, as if remembering something, he wiped the smile off his face.

"Brother, there's also one important matter I need to report to you."

The iron dragon's voice became stern and solemn. "Lamorein, this apostle of the Chromatic Queen, the Mandate Storm Dragon, has recently become very active in the West."

Garoth's gaze narrowed. "How frequent?"

The iron dragon said, "In the past, tasks like suppressing and purging dissidents were left to his claws and fangs."

"Lamorein himself rarely left the temple. Sometimes he wouldn't show himself once for a whole year."

"But now, he's been flying across the western sky almost every day, using storms and thunder to destroy all resisters. The resistance organizations that could hold on before are now being uprooted one batch after another by him."

"Fast. His methods are much harsher than his claws and fangs."

Garoth looked thoughtful.

"Since when?"

He asked.

Gordon thought for a moment. "Probably around the time the news of you killing a divine incarnation spread back to Atlantis."

"It hasn't been long."

"However, since he started taking personal action, the flames of resistance in the West are being gradually extinguished."

He paused, his voice dropping a little more.

"Even with our covert support from Aola, we can only buy time."

Garoth's gaze shifted westward, crossing mountains and rivers, landing on the edge of the western horizon.

With his Eye of Truth, he could see that the clouds over the West were lower than elsewhere, showing an abnormal gray-blue color. Thunderstorms flickered within them, which was not a natural weather phenomenon.

"Gordon, why do you think the Lord of Thunder has chosen to act personally now?"

Garoth said, looking west at the iron dragon.

Gordon thought for a moment, his spikes gently opening and closing on his back.

"It might be out of fear of you."

The iron dragon said. "He might be using an iron fist to harvest blood taxes on a large scale, offering them as tribute, then exchanging them for more favors from the Storm Dragon Queen, gaining more power, and then..."

He paused, his gaze turning sharp.

"Contend with us for dominance over the Atlantis Continent."

In Gordon's eyes, an existence like the Lord of Thunder certainly wouldn't be content to stay holed up in the West forever.

He had enough power, plus the backing of the Chromatic Queen. He must also be yearning for more territory. And the Aola Kingdom, occupying three-quarters of the Atlantis Continent, was probably the first target he wanted to attack.

Garoth didn't confirm or deny it.

"Is this the will of the Chromatic Queen, or his own will?"

After thinking for a few seconds, his gaze settled, and he said to the iron dragon, "Since the Lord of Thunder has stepped onto the stage, we are not far from a real war."

"But no need to be nervous."

"Even the fiercest storm, if it opposes me, is destined to be ended by my claws."

So arrogant?

I like it!

Gordon found that Garoth's personality had changed again.

But Gordon didn't think there was anything wrong with that.

He thought this was exactly the attitude the Emperor of Aola should have.

A single tremor of his dragon body and dominance would leak out, striking fear into enemies and giving his subjects a hundred times more confidence.

In comparison, the previous Garoth had been too steady.

"Then let's prepare to welcome the storm," the iron dragon grinned. "No, let the storm prepare to welcome us."

PS: The last day of double. Begging for monthly votes. Down with Qidian!