A crescent moon hung like a hook above the Rock-Gnawing Tribe, stretching the shadows cast by the low hills into distorted shapes.
Garros's dragon pupils were deep and dark in the night as he lowered his body, the dark red patterns on his obsidian-like scales shimmering.
"Let your deaths soothe the unease in my heart."
With a sweep of his tail, he smashed a goblin warrior jumping from behind into a radial splatter of mud; the leather armor it wore, meticulously tanned and protected by alchemical runes, was like water-soaked paper, crumbling at the slightest touch.
"Cursed Dragonkin!"
Firelight and his devastated territory reflected in his eyes as Broken-Tooth Goruk reacted, letting out an angry low growl.
Whirrr, whirrr, whirrr!
The engine started, and black oil burned rapidly, converting into energy.
black oil—formed from the long-term sedimentation of demonic beast carcasses, it is a thick black liquid and the basic energy source for many alchemical tools, similar to petroleum but containing much higher and stronger energy.
The immense abundance of resources like black oil, Demonic Energy Stones, and Source Crystals...
...was a vital factor in the extremely high level of alchemical development on Planet Bernardo.
As the engine's hum rang out.
A large amount of steam rose from the Giant-Arm Miner, and the alchemical runes etched on its steel plates lit up one by one as its heavy body stomped across the ground, charging toward the Red-Iron Young Dragon.
If on the ground.
If it were on the ground.
Broken-Tooth Goruk, piloting the Giant-Arm Miner, was confident he could kill any young dragon.
Furthermore, given the intelligence, arrogance, and conceit of young dragons, they might forget their advantage of flight during a fight and stay on the ground to engage in a bitter struggle with the enemy.
"I'll tear off its wings first. By the time it wants to fly back into the sky, it'll be too late!"
Broken-Tooth Goruk had already devised a battle strategy in his mind.
The Giant-Arm Miner was not a combat-type Alchemy Golem, but its massive arms possessed the powerful strength to crush rocks into powder and bend steel; it should have no problem fighting a young dragon head-on.
On the other side.
Groz, the shaman of the Rock-Gnawing Tribe, hunched his back. The largest pustule at the very top, resembling a hump, burst open, and along with a disgusting fluid, a massive black-purple spider jumped out.
This spider had dark red compound eyes, a pitch-black carapace, and legs covered in fine, sharp hairs; it was the size of a goblin's head.
At first glance, it looked lifelike, as if it were a physical creature, but it was actually a spirit cultivated by Groz and the primary means of attack for this goblin shaman.
Spider Spirit Web!
Groz cast a Spell, and the Spider Spirit perched on his back, opening its mouth to spit a tough, massive, sticky, and poisonous web toward Garros.
On one side was the web formed by the Spell.
On the other side was the menacing Giant-Arm Miner.
Garros slightly bent his limbs, the muscles beneath his dragon scales tightening like steel wires. Then, he instantly erupted with powerful force, simultaneously flapping his dragon wings.
Whoosh!
A great wind carrying dust formed a shockwave that scattered in all directions.
Before the web could fall, the Red-Iron Young Dragon soared into the sky.
Goruk, piloting the Giant-Arm Miner, looked up at the sky. He could do nothing but stare blankly, as this Alchemy Golem lacked any anti-air capabilities.
"Is it running away because I scared it, just like that red young dragon before?"
Having scared off two young dragons in a row, Goruk felt he was incredibly powerful; perhaps even a juvenile dragon was nothing to fear now.
"Cheer for me! The mighty Goruk has once again forced a dragon to retreat!"
The goblin roared.
The other bewildered goblins instinctively echoed him, praising Goruk's strength and bravery.
Only Groz knew that this was not over yet.
"Everyone, be careful! It hasn't left!"
Garros ascended to a high altitude, looking down at the tiny Goblin Tribe below.
His wings flapped, tearing through the air as he dove downward. The airflow contacted the feather-like fine scales on his wing membranes, producing a piercing shriek.
When the distance was just right.
Garros folded his wings into a cone shape, the dark red patterns on his scales glowing slightly, like fire flowing over steel.
The Red-Iron Young Dragon was like a small black-and-red meteor, descending from the sky with immense pressure and smashing toward the conspicuous target: the Giant-Arm Miner.
Broken-Tooth Goruk felt a sliver of fear in his heart.
But that fear was quickly torn apart by his recently inflated confidence.
He manipulated the Giant-Arm Miner to raise its pair of massive arms to meet the Red-Iron Young Dragon, while shouting excitedly, "Kinsmen, witness me! Witness the moment the mighty Goruk slays a dragon!"
One by one, the goblins looked at Broken-Tooth Goruk with eyes full of worship.
His confident tone even infected Groz, making him feel that this guy might actually pull it off.
Boom!
The moment the Red-Iron Young Dragon collided with the Giant-Arm Miner.
The ground cracked in a spider-web pattern, and the shockwave sent all the surrounding goblins flying. They crashed into mountain walls or their companions' weapons, suffering heavy casualties.
The eight-meter-tall Alchemy Golem was like a tin can flattened by a giant; the riveted steel plates twisted and burst, and black oil sprayed out like gore.
Broken-Tooth Goruk's scream was cut short as a broken metal pipe pierced his throat, pinning the goblin to the mangled control console.
The last image he saw was Garros rising from the flames and dust.
"He's dead! Run for your lives!"
A goblin had just scrambled up from the ground to shout for escape, but before it could take more than a few steps, its head flew high into the air. A look of terror was frozen on its face as it caught a glimpse of its own headless body still futilely twitching its fingers.
Garros's dragon wings unfurled like two giant guillotines as he skimmed low over the tribal camp.
Wherever the edges of his wings passed, goblins, tents, stone houses, and weapon racks were all sliced cleanly through.
Swish!
A black shadow suddenly jumped from the side.
Garros swung his claws in a sweep, but he felt no physical resistance when he struck.
The Spider Spirit jumped onto Garros's back and bit down into a gap between his dragon scales, sinking its fangs entirely. More accurately, it didn't tear through his scales and flesh but seemed to melt right in.
A stinging pain from the bite followed.
The Spider Spirit, formed by a Spell, ignored his hard scales to deal damage. Although the damage was not high, it still made Garros frown.
"Against Spell attacks, my resistance is still not high enough."
A dragon's magic resistance grows with age; an adult dragon can ignore many Spells, but a young dragon's magic resistance is quite limited.
"And pure physical attacks aren't very effective against ethereal bodies or Spell spirits."
Spell-like Ability—Small Fireball!
Whoosh! A small fireball condensed beside Garros and struck the Spider Spirit, blowing it into oblivion.
The power of his claw strikes was much greater than the Small Fireball, but they were less effective against the Spider Spirit.
"I need to delve deeper into Spell-like abilities; I know too few right now."
Garros thought to himself.
He was committed to making himself peerless in defense, incredibly fast, and exceptionally tanky, making him hard to kill. But this didn't mean Garros wanted to be a 'brute' who relied solely on his powerful physical body for melee combat.
Dragons are born sorcerers; he would not give up this advantage.
It was just that Adaptive Evolution in this area was much slower than for his physical body. Currently, Garros had only mastered a few Spell-like abilities ahead of other young dragons.