Translator: AnubisTL
"Don't call me White Dragon."
White Dragon Treacy licked her lips, her eyes burning with desire as she pressed closer to Garos.
"I want you to bite my spine with your sharp dragon fangs, making me writhe in pain."
"I want you to constrict my neck with your thick, powerful tail, suffocating me."
"I want you to call me White Scale, trample me, torment me, humiliate me."
At that moment, she seemed to be under some kind of influence, her body radiating an unnatural, feverish scent that made Garos's skin burn as if he had been poisoned.
Is she using poison on me? A potent one, if my poison resistance is reacting so violently.
Garos's heart pounded with alarm. He slammed a claw into the white dragon's head, knocking her to the ground. "White Dragon! Enough with your games!" he warned.
The blow seemed to snap Treacy out of her trance.
"Juvenile Dragon!" she cried, her voice bitter and resentful. "Why do you resist so fiercely? You're clearly in heat too! We're both evil dragons—don't pretend to be like those metallic dragons with their false modesty. We don't need gifts or sentimental talk. Let's just give in to our madness!"
Garos frowned.
In heat? How could I not have noticed?
The red-iron dragon's expression shifted to one of realization.
"Oh, so it's heat season. I thought I'd been training hard enough to trigger evolution."
He suddenly remembered that for the past few days, he had inexplicably felt a feverish heat emanating from the little dragon. Not considering the possibility of heat season, he had mistakenly assumed the little dragon was about to evolve and intensified their training, even breaking several iron stones in the process.
Now that the truth was revealed, Garos fell silent, his understanding dawning.
Under normal circumstances, a dragon's heat season wouldn't begin until their adolescent stage, typically after the age of 25. This was why Garos hadn't considered it.
Yet, upon reflection, it wasn't entirely surprising.
His physical development had outpaced that of ordinary dragons, so it was only natural that he would enter heat season prematurely.
"No wonder Tasha's gaze had been so strange these past few days."
"No wonder Vera has been avoiding me entirely lately."
Garos shook his head, finally understanding the reasons behind their behavior. He then knocked the white dragon, who was trying to cling to him, back to the ground.
The white dragon, battered and bloodied, covered in sticky blood and scattered scales, held no allure for Garos. The creature had overestimated its own beauty and seductive power while underestimating Garos's resistance to lust.
Across from him, the white dragon, once again knocked to the ground, finally regained full consciousness.
The heat-inducing scent that had been emanating from her vanished.
"Now, let's get down to business," Garos said bluntly. "I need tangible benefits."
"I'm willing to accept compensation of fifty percent of your wealth," Garos stated directly. "But for the remaining fifty percent, I require your loyalty to repay the debt. Moreover, during your period of service, that remaining fifty percent will be held in escrow by me."
The white dragon, Treacy, flicked her tail. "Would forty percent be acceptable?"
"You're in no position to negotiate," Garos replied firmly.
Next, they finalized the duration and specific terms of her service.
For example, the white dragon would work for Garos for the next fifty years to repay her debt. During this time, she would not disobey his orders and would fight, guard, and patrol for him. However, Garos could not force her to undertake suicidal missions, treat her like a slave or familiar, or extort any spoils of war or new wealth she acquired during her service.
Dragons could accept serving their own kind.
But they would rather die than submit to the status of a servant.
These were reasonable demands.
With numerous precedents to guide them, Garos and the white dragon quickly finalized their agreement. Neither party would use contract magic or magical artifacts, and oaths sworn to divine spirits held little binding power. The primary leverage Garos held was his seizure of the white dragon's wealth, which he would use as collateral to ensure her loyalty.
Immediately afterward, Treacy returned to the Centaur Camp with the red-iron dragon. She would first resolve matters with the humans before escorting Garos to her dragon nest to retrieve his wealth.
"She will soon become my follower," Garos announced, easing the tense spirits of the centaurs.
"I wish to praise you, but I can find no words adequate for this moment," Nick, the caravan leader, offered his admiration. "A juvenile dragon subduing an adult dragon—this is a legendary, inconceivable feat."
Since the white dragon's appearance and the start of their battle, the merchant had been watching with bated breath, fearing his all-in bet on the juvenile dragon would end with him falling beneath the adult white dragon's claws.
As it turned out, his worries were unfounded.
The Ominous Star of Death's power had shattered his preconceived notions about juvenile dragons.
If he could defeat an adult dragon so easily, he would undoubtedly become a dominant force in the future.
Despite the precarious survival conditions of chromatic dragons and their overall inferiority to metallic dragons, every so often, exceptionally powerful individuals would emerge from their ranks. These dragon kings would establish their dominion over vast territories, becoming figures no one dared provoke.
In the history of Bernardo Planet, the number of evil dragons remembered far exceeds that of metallic dragons.
Grown evil dragons are stronger than metallic dragons.
This has become a common perception of dragonkind among the people.
However, in this era, the twenty-four-winged golden dragons of the Metallic Dragon Clan are overwhelmingly powerful, nearly reaching the pinnacle of the material realm. Moreover, there are currently no outstanding overlords among the evil dragons, making them appear weaker.
"Enough with the flattery," Garos said.
Nick grinned. "Only practicality can lead to the summit. Your wisdom fills me with admiration."
Enough with the flattery?
No, you need more.
Nick was shrewd, able to discern which of Garos' words were sincere and which were mere casual remarks.
Garos narrowed his eyes slightly, unconcerned by Nick's subtle maneuvering. "Nick, from this day forward, you shall be my claws and fangs in the south, my tendrils in the human world."
"I will also grant you the opportunity for rebirth. When you have made your decision and prepared yourself, I will initiate your dragon blood transformation."
Nick's smile vanished, replaced by a solemn, earnest expression. He prostrated himself again, his forehead pressed against the hard earth. "I swear on my life and soul that I will never betray your trust!"
Sometimes, going all-in is a form of wisdom.
He had already decided to walk this path to his death.
Afterward, Nick received the communication method for Garos' message stone.
Garos wanted to establish a dragonkind presence in the southern federation's heartland and develop intelligence networks, so he placed Nick directly under his command.
Garos himself had no interest in handling trivial matters, which should have been delegated to the iron dragon.
However, just two days prior, the iron dragon had entered his long slumber, now resting in Dragon Valley.
Solgorn was twenty-two years old, a prime age for juvenile dragons to enter their extended slumber. He wouldn't awaken for at least four or five years, possibly even seven or eight.
When he next awoke, he would likely have become a mind mage.
Mind mages could split their consciousness, allowing for parallel thought processes. Although the Ironforged Clan was steadily growing, for the time being, the iron dragon could still manage the clan effectively after becoming a mind mage.
Moreover, Garos estimated that his own dragon sleep was approaching.
It would likely occur within the next year or two, certainly before he turned twenty.
Before entering dragon sleep, I must avoid stirring up trouble, Garos thought silently. The Borderlands are teeming with powerful entities. If I become too active and draw attention or hostility, and then enter dragon sleep, the Ironforged Clan could face a devastating blow.
Now was not the time for reckless arrogance.
The juvenile dragons still needed to temper their claws and fangs, like tigers lying low in the mountains, biding their time to reveal their true strength.
(End of the Chapter)
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