The southern lands of Svartálfaheim, under the rule of Harðtennr, were once a landscape of complex mountain ranges and vast, fertile plains.
However, ever since this giant dragon conquered the territory with his massive swarm of offspring, the region had gradually transformed. It became a barren, desolate wasteland, devoid of all life save for the dragons that occupied it.
The entire land was cloaked in a perpetual grey smog that never lifted. The stench of sulfur and the scorching breath of dragons mingled in the air, giving the realm the appearance of a world burned over and over again.
Harðtennr's seat of power and residence was originally one of the most impenetrable stone fortresses of the ancient dwarven kingdom. The passage of time, coupled with the giant dragon's rule, had reduced that once-mighty fortress to nothing more than a cluster of cracked and dilapidated stone ruins.
Nevertheless, legends still spoke of tens of thousands of gold coins and countless ancient dwarven treasures hidden within those ruins—wealth plundered by the dragon king who now ruled this land.
Amidst the veil of grey smoke billowing above the ruined fortress, two fierce gusts of wind suddenly swept through.
One was as scorching as flames erupting from a volcano, while the other was as freezing as the breath of an icy abyss.
The dragons, both great and small, surrounding their king, Harðtennr, shifted instinctively. They immediately sensed approaching intruders.
Some dragons rose from the stone floors they had warmed with their own breath, while the winged ones took to the sky. In unison, they unleashed deafening roars that echoed throughout the valley.
They prepared to confront the two visitors—those who dared intrude upon the territory of the Dragon King of the South.
"Clear the way and let them come to me!"
A deep, resounding roar echoed from the ruined stone fortress, instantly bringing the swarm of dragons to a halt. It was the voice of Harðtennr.
The colossal body of the dragon king slowly roused itself from a massive stone dais. The cracked fragments of ancient walls around him trembled, as if awakening from a long slumber.
Harðtennr was a giant dragon covered entirely in golden scales. With every movement, the reflection from those scales gleamed like molten gold beneath the grey smog. His wings were immense, shaped like those of a bird, unlike the bat-like wings of typical flying dragons.
His body alone was as massive as a moving mountain.
Upon the dragon king's command, the dragons poised to attack were forced to part, opening a gap in the sky for the two visitors.
Amidst the swirling smoke and gusts of wind, two colossal shadows slowly approached.
One shadow was black and red, like fire mixed with ash, while the other was pale white, like pure ice.
Before long, the giant dragon with black-and-red scales resembling newly cooled lava swooped down and landed fearlessly before Harðtennr.
The white dragon, with scales like ice crystals, did not approach. It merely flew over to perch on a nearby rocky cliff, as if wishing to observe everything from a safe distance.
These two visitors were no ordinary dragons; they were Gorfang and Nifflhogg.
The red dragon, Gorfang, stepped closer to the dragon king of the southern lands without the slightest hint of fear. His eyes shone with ferocity and arrogance, like one who had just ascended to the pinnacle of power.
"I am Gorfang… the slayer of Magni."
His deep voice thundered across the ruined fortress, proclaiming his victory so every dragon would hear Magni's name. The god's name remained a legend of the age—the one who had once been the strongest being in the world.
The golden dragon king stared at the visitor with cold eyes before speaking slowly, "Gorfang… the son of Vulkanfang, is it?"
His tone was calm, yet laced with an authority that silenced the surrounding dragons.
"That is correct," Gorfang replied instantly. "I am the strongest heir of Vulkanfang."
The answer brimmed with hubris, as if he were trying to prove himself worthy of being the strongest dragon.
Harðtennr continued to ask in an impassive voice, "Son of Vulkanfang… for what reason have you come to my territory?"
Harðtennr did not address Gorfang by name directly, choosing instead to use the title "Son of Vulkanfang." The simple choice of words carried a clear implication—in his eyes, he did not view the other party as an equal.
Gorfang narrowed his eyes slightly but displayed no displeasure. He merely raised his head haughtily before stating, "Magni is no more. We, the dragon race, should be more ambitious." His voice echoed across the ruins. "Never mind conquering the entirety of Svartálfaheim. Even Asgard... we should be able to conquer it as well."
Harðtennr stared at him silently before returning a question with a hint of disdain, "Because there is no Magni... you think you can already conquer Asgard?"
Harðtennr's words naturally implied that there were still many gods in Asgard; it was not a place that would fall so easily.
Gorfang sneered slightly before answering, "I also know that Baldur is both weak and old."
He deliberately projected his words, not just to converse with Harðtennr, but to announce it to all the subordinate dragons around them.
"If Baldur is truly that old and weak, then I invite you and your white companion to go and conquer Asgard as you please." Harðtennr paused for a moment before continuing in an icy tone, "Then why did you seek me out?"
"That white one is no companion of mine," Gorfang said, glancing over at the white dragon perched on the cliff. He continued, "It merely followed me here. We have fought many times... but have yet to determine a victor."
High on the cliff, Nifflhogg remained as still as a statue. He did not move an inch, nor did he utter a single word.
The golden dragon king, Harðtennr, cast a sidelong glance at the white figure before speaking up, his tone critical, "No wonder... it hasn't spoken a single word."
Gorfang softly blew a scorching breath from his nostrils before answering on its behalf, "It has never spoken once. I fear... it might have been born mute."
Harðtennr continued to stare at the white dragon for a moment. An indescribably strange feeling arose in his heart. Some instinct whispered a warning that the white dragon was entirely different from ordinary dragons.
"That one is named Nifflhogg. Its physical strength is beyond question. If the three of us join forces, nothing will be able to resist us anymore," Gorfang circled back to his original proposal.
The golden dragon king turned his gaze back to Gorfang before stating in a frigid tone, "Be that as it may, I have no interest in allying with you... or with that white dragon."
The answer was absolute, delivered without hesitation. Yet, Gorfang showed not the slightest hint of anger. He simply raised his head a fraction and continued with a voice tinged with regret.
"In the past, had you and Eldhali heeded my father's words..." Gorfang paused briefly. "With three great dragons allied, I believe this world would have fallen to the dragon race long ago."
Harðtennr's eyes narrowed slightly before he retorted instantly, "In the past, I had no thought of allying with your father, Vulkanfang. And today... do you still think I would willingly ally with you?"
Gorfang took a slight step closer, his eyes beginning to flash fiercely. "Why must you be a stubborn old fool who never changes..."
Gorfang rebuked the dragon king without the slightest hint of fear.
"Hmph..." Harðtennr chuckled softly in his throat. "Did Vulkanfang never teach you how I differ from the likes of you?"
The moment he finished speaking, the golden dragon king threw his head back and unleashed a roar that echoed throughout the valley. The roar shook both heaven and earth.
In the blink of an eye, the swarm of dragons large and small surrounding the ruined fortress launched into the air. They surged forward to attack Gorfang and Nifflhogg instantly.
Chaos erupted immediately. Harðtennr's subordinate dragons swooped in, swarming to attack Gorfang from all directions.
The sound of massive wings beating against the air echoed thunderously across the valley. Fragments of rock from fractured cliffs scattered in every direction, while the flames and scorching breath of countless dragons surged toward the same target.
Amidst that storm of dragons, Gorfang lashed out with his bright red claws, slashing at everything closing in on him. His fiery eyes blazed with savagery before a deafening roar tore from his throat. In the very next instant, black-and-red flames erupted from his maw like an exploding volcano.
A colossal pillar of fire swept across the sky in a wide arc. Several dragons lunging toward him were instantly swallowed by the flames. Their scales and wings ignited in mid-air before they plummeted, crashing onto the stony ground below.
While Gorfang was entangled with the swarming dragons, on the other side, atop the high rocky cliff, Nifflhogg could no longer remain idle.
Five exceptionally large subordinate dragons swooped down on him simultaneously. They intended to crush the silent white dragon and force him off the cliff.
The combined assault of all these dragons forced Nifflhogg to deflect and fight back desperately. Two dragons rammed him from the flanks, their massive claws digging in to pin his body down. Another used its long neck to tightly coil around his left arm. Yet Nifflhogg struggled with savage strength. The chaotic struggle shook the cliff until, finally, all the gargantuan bodies lost their balance and tumbled off the precipice together.
"RUMBLE—!"
The six colossal bodies tangled into a massive knot before slamming into the stone courtyard below, creating a tremor that sent rock dust billowing into the air.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield below, Gorfang continued to fight like a madman, refusing to yield a single step. He whipped his giant tail in a wide arc, the impact as devastating as a giant hammer. Three dragons were sent flying, crashing violently into the cliff face.
As the encirclement began to open up, Gorfang seized the opportunity to lunge straight at Harðtennr. He spread his left wing to strike the golden dragon king, spinning his body to channel all his momentum into a devastating tail whip with tremendous force.
"BANG!"
The collision was deafening, yet neither his wing nor his tail could even touch Harðtennr's body. A radiant golden aura of power had materialized around the golden dragon king, completely repelling every attack.
Harðtennr looked at him with frosty eyes before speaking slowly, "You foolish creature... Now that my scales have turned this shade of gold, even if Vulkanfang were to see this... he would have no choice but to flee."
The meaning behind those words was crystal clear. Once, in the past, Harðtennr might have been inferior to a giant dragon like Vulkanfang. But over the past few centuries, he had not remained stagnant. The golden scales covering his body today were proof of a new evolution. His power level... had truly crossed into the realm of a Dragon Emperor.
And in that very instant, a sickening sound of tearing flesh echoed loudly.
"SLASH!"
With just a single downward lash of Harðtennr's tail, one of Gorfang's arms was completely severed from his body. Dark blood spurted into the air. The scales and hide that Gorfang once believed to be tougher than anything else could not withstand the golden dragon king's tail strike in the slightest.
Gorfang's massive frame was knocked back, slamming violently into the stone floor. The impact shattered a wide area of the courtyard, sending rock fragments flying everywhere. Dark blood continued to stream profusely from his severed arm. This time, however, his fiery eyes no longer blazed with the same ferocity as before. That gaze... was now filled with terror. Gorfang finally truly realized just how far Harðtennr's power had surpassed its former limits.
The golden dragon king looked down at him coldly from above before slowly opening his jaws. Golden energy began to gather deep within his throat, rapidly forming a light as blinding as the sun. Harðtennr prepared to unleash a golden beam of light to end the life of this arrogant son of Vulkanfang once and for all.
But suddenly, an event no one could have anticipated occurred.
"GRAAARRR!"
The enormous head of the white dragon lunged from the side with blistering speed. Its pale, icy fangs clamped deep into Gorfang's neck before hurling his body away with tremendous force. The red dragon's body tumbled across the stone floor, narrowly escaping the golden beam that Harðtennr was about to unleash.
The one who intervened in the middle of the battlefield was Nifflhogg. The white dragon stood tall between the two factions. His pale scales constantly emitted a faint, icy aura. His freezing eyes stared straight at the golden dragon before him, unflinching. It was hard to believe that just moments ago, he had successfully slaughtered the five subordinate dragons—arguably the strongest ones sent to gang up on him.
Parts of those dragons' corpses were frozen solid into ice statues, while many other pieces had shattered, scattering like white crystal fragments across the stone courtyard—serving as evidence of the fierce battle moments prior.
Throughout all of this, Nifflhogg still had not uttered a single word. Yet, in the brief window that he stepped in to block the attack, the heavily wounded Gorfang used the opportunity to launch himself into the air and flee the battlefield.
Seeing this, Harðtennr let out a furious, deafening roar. The golden beam of light shot out from his mouth once again, but this time, the target was the white dragon standing in his way. Suddenly, however, the ground around Nifflhogg erupted into several colossal pillars of ice, shooting upward to surround his body like a fortress wall. The golden beam slammed into the ice barrier, causing a world-shaking explosion that echoed throughout the valley.
Harðtennr narrowed his golden eyes before a low growl slipped from his throat. "You are mute... yet you can cast magic?"
At the same time, another massive magic circle appeared beneath Nifflhogg's feet. The surrounding ground was rapidly swallowed by ice. An immense wave of cold energy billowed from his body, coalescing into a massive blizzard right in the middle of the courtyard. The freezing gale blew so fiercely that several subordinate dragons were forced to retreat.
Harðtennr roared once more before firing a golden beam at full force straight into the blizzard.
"BOOM—!"
The explosion sent dust, smoke, and debris hurtling into the sky. But as the smoke began to clear, the blizzard vanished with it. And Nifflhogg had disappeared, leaving behind only a vast stretch of frozen stone courtyard.
Harðtennr swept his gaze around in silence for a moment. Both the red dragon and the white dragon had escaped. He then muttered softly to himself, "That Nifflhogg creature... is it truly a dragon?"
Because even a dragon that had crossed into the realm of a Dragon Emperor was still incapable of casting magic.