Translator: AnubisTL
The long rainy season had finally come to an end.
As the first true rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, a rare morning mist rose from the frozen soil north of the Estonian Great River. The air, already bordering on the Permafrost Tundra, carried a faint, lingering chill.
At the same moment, within a naturally formed basalt cave, a colossal, iron-clad black beast slowly opened its deep, obsidian eyes.
Garos had awakened.
After a full month of slumber.
This was not a dragon sleep for growth, but a restorative hibernation to heal his wounds.
Raising a clawed hand, Garos touched his thick neck.
The deep, bone-revealing gash had vanished completely. Flesh and dragon scales had regrown, and all the sword cuts, axe wounds, and other injuries had healed without a trace. Even the terrifying wound that had pierced his body clean through was gone.
For any other creature, such severe injuries would likely leave lasting consequences, affecting them for life.
But for dragonkind, as long as they survived the initial blow, recovery was rarely a problem.
Through the best medicine—sleep—his injuries had completely healed without any lingering aftereffects.
Reflecting on his near-death experience, Garos felt immense gratitude for his tireless training and foresight.
For example:
His adaptation to serpent dragon venom had rendered the poisons of magic potion experts virtually ineffective against him.
And his Dragon Neck, strengthened through years of targeted exercises, had withstood a ferocious strike from a holy knight, who had poured all his skill and effort into the blow, preventing his immediate decapitation.
Regarding dragonkind anatomy:
Compared to the robustness of other body parts, the neck is a major vulnerability—proportionally long and slender.
Garos was different.
Decades of specialized training had made his neck thick and sturdy, covered in a layer of fine steel-like scales. His neck muscles were so powerful they could support his massive body suspended upside down in mid-air.
One by one, his weaknesses and shortcomings were being eliminated.
Rising to his feet, the red-iron dragon stretched his body, lowering his chest and arching his tail and hindquarters. He extended and flapped his wings, his muscles and bones cracking like firecrackers before shaking off the loose dust and pebbles clinging to his scales.
Next, he closed his eyes slightly, sensing the flow of energy within his body.
In addition to magic energy and life energy,
there was an even more fervent, dynamic, and surging energy coursing through him.
Dragon qi, also known as martial qi.
Garos opened his eyes and took a deep breath.
Whoosh!
A blackish-red stream of qi materialized on his claw.
This dragon qi, poised between substance and illusion, sometimes flared like flames and sometimes flowed like molten iron. Its overall color was blackish-red, with a pitch-black core and a dark crimson surface. Garos shook his head in resignation.
The color of dragon qi was tied to one's fundamental life essence.
As a red-iron dragon, his blackish-red dragon qi was perfectly logical.
Currently, his dragon qi was still nascent, only about one-tenth converted.
But as his martial combat level rose, and all his magic energy and life energy transformed into dragon qi, he would eventually be able to emulate the martial monks of old, completely enveloping his body in dragon qi flames during intense battles.
At that time,
when his dragon qi ignited, the blackish-red illusory flames would engulf his entire body, churning and burning with an aura of extreme danger and utter evil.
If the flames were golden, they would appear sacred and majestic rather than menacing and dangerous.
To achieve this, Garos needed to reach a higher level and acquire the dragon qi mastery feat. Once he did, he could manipulate the flames into any color imaginable—even a multicolored black or a vibrant white.
"The battle with the dragon hunting group was perilous, but the rewards were immense. Most importantly, I've officially become a martial dragon," Garos mused inwardly.
The birth of his dragon qi signified his successful class advancement.
During his slumber, he had directly inherited a core class skill through the inheritance:
— Claw Strike Mastery.
A vast array of claw-based attack and defense techniques surged into Garos's mind as if learned instinctively.
Compared to this, his previous use of his claws felt primitive and crude, like that of a wild beast—an utter waste of his physical potential.
Now, with a casual flick of his wrist, his claws could precisely pierce the weakest layers of rock.
This enhanced precision in controlling his strength was far more valuable than a mere increase in raw power.
Moreover, his martial combat level was currently only at Level 1.
As his class level increased, he would unlock class-specific skills like Tail Strike Mastery and Wing Strike Mastery, as well as the sensory skills Garos desperately wanted.
Of course.
Given enough time and leisure, he could also learn these skills independently, without relying on inheritance.
It's worth noting that class level and life grade are two separate systems.
For naturally weak creatures, class level essentially equals life grade.
But for apex magical beings like dragonkind, their overall strength after taking a class cannot be determined solely by life grade and class level.
A martial combat level of 1 was very low.
Yet Garos already felt a significant change.
Even without the Claw Strike Mastery skill, the mere tenth of his dragon qi reserves could extend the duration of his frenzy state or be used to enhance his attacks or defenses.
His life grade remained unchanged.
But his combat power had undeniably increased.
"I don't really need more offensive skills right now. What I truly need are sensory skills."
"At level 3, there's Reflexive Evasion, and at level 6, Danger Sense. It won't take long to acquire them."
Garos mused inwardly.
Martial dragons primarily advance their martial combat level through battle and brutal self-torture training. Garos excelled at both, allowing him to level up rapidly when his class level was low.
Eager to begin training immediately, he suppressed his impulse, remembering that the other dragons and their familiars were vigilantly guarding him, and that now wasn't the ideal time for training. He soared out of the hidden underground cave.
Hearing the commotion, the juvenile dragons guarding the area immediately turned their heads, their eyes alert. When they saw the massive black dragon soaring through the sky, they simultaneously exhaled in relief, their long-strained spirits finally relaxing.
After circling briefly in the air, Garos retracted his wings and descended to the ground.
The fairy dragon was the first to flutter toward him, circling his massive body and showering him with glittering, dazzling powder in celebration.
"My dearest brother, you've finally awakened!"
Iron Dragon Solgorn strode forward, but before he could approach, he suddenly froze in his tracks, his dragon scales trembling slightly as if sensing some invisible pressure.
He stared at Garos, a hint of astonishment flickering in his eyes.
The red-iron dragon before them still possessed its majestic form, yet it now radiated an indescribable aura of power, as if even the air itself trembled before its breath.
Blazing. Resilient. Ascendant.
Its physical appearance seemed largely unchanged.
But in essence, it felt as though a qualitative transformation had occurred.
"You..." The iron dragon's voice wavered slightly. "You've chosen a class? What is it?"
Garos didn't hesitate. "Martial dragon."
Neither the iron dragon nor the red dragon seemed particularly surprised by this revelation.
Few dragons chose the martial dragon class. While dragonkind relished combat, they were generally lazy, disinclined to train, let alone endure the near-masochistic rigor required. Moreover, traditional warrior classes offered a readily available alternative. Garos, however, defied conventional expectations.
"Martial dragon and alchemist."
The iron dragon's gaze swept over Garos and Samantha, thoughtful. "Since you've both chosen your paths, I should select a class to develop as well."
Due to their potent bloodlines, the sorcerer class was the easiest for dragons to master.
Garos, of course, was an exception.
For most juvenile dragons seeking to choose a class, the sorcerer path remained the only viable option.
"You should choose a sorcerer class first," Garos suggested. "Don't forget, time is on our side. Once you've passed your growth phase and things have stabilized, it won't be too late to change paths."
Short-lived creatures can only specialize in a single class.
But dragons, with their millennia-long lifespans, often pursue multiple classes and explore different paths throughout their lives.
For ancient dragons over a thousand years old, beyond their inherently high life grade, it's nearly impossible to determine how many skills they've mastered or how many unpredictable methods they possess.
Garos was deeply interested in magic.
However, the long learning curve and the time required to convert magical knowledge into combat prowess made it unsuitable for his current situation. He had to set it aside for now, planning to delve into the arcane arts when the time was right.
Soon after, the migrating party regrouped and prepared to depart. Garos spread his wings and soared above the procession, circling in the sky.
His shadow stretched across the wilderness, gradually extending northward.
The riverbank wasn't suitable for establishing a permanent base. Under the shadow of the dragon wing, the monster horde resumed its northward migration, the long column resembling a thin stream flowing toward the border between the wilderness and the tundra.
(End of the Chapter)
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