Translator: AnubisTL
The frigid cold of the Frontierlands could not breach the natural barriers to blow across the Sierre Wilderness.
Influenced by recent climatic shifts and the invisible aftershocks of the earth-shattering battle between two legendary kings, the overall temperature of the vast wilderness—which remained hot year-round outside of a brief rainy season—had dropped slightly. Yet, a glance across the landscape revealed not a single trace of snow.
Only in the northernmost reaches, near the very edge of the Frontierlands, could one occasionally spot sparse snowflakes drifting in the wind.
Whoosh—!
The red-iron dragon beat his wings, soaring freely through the high skies of the Sierre Wilderness. He easily tore through the powerful air currents, leaving long vortices trailing in his wake.
As his wings flapped, time slipped away unnoticed.
Below Garos's gaze, the landscape flowed by like a shifting scroll.
He gradually flew over the lush, vibrant primeval forests, glided past a colossal lake as clear and green as emerald, and looked down upon the endless, desolate plains covered in drought-resistant shrubs and hardy grasses.
Finally.
His massive body began to gently decelerate, descending like a steady black cloud onto the summit of a jagged, steep cliff.
His sharp dragon claws tapped into the hard rock, securing a firm grip on the mountainside.
As he folded his broad wings, he lowered his dragon head to peer down.
A vast, deep depression, looking as if it had been violently struck by a meteor from the heavens, came into view.
This was his birthplace: the Heavenly Pit Territory ruled by Iron Dragon Mother Leticia—a vast, unique, and sunken basin.
Garos's gaze slowly swept across the landscape.
He could faintly discern a patch of exceptionally pitted and rugged ground beneath the opposite steep cliff. Even the adjacent mountain walls still bore deep fissures and massive claw marks.
Though decades of wind, rain, and natural changes had left many unfamiliar traces, he could still clearly recognize them. These were the masterpieces he had created during his childhood, from his day-in, day-out training on this very ground.
A mixture of strangeness and profound familiarity welled up from his heart.
"Excellent. The Iron Dragon Maiden's aura is still strong. She clearly still lives in this territory and hasn't left."
Garos slightly raised his imposing dragon head, no longer suppressing his power. A torrent of dragon might, like an invisible tide, surged forward into the territory ahead.
Among dragons, there was a tacitly understood social code.
To barge into another's territory without the owner's explicit permission was an extreme breach of etiquette—a grave offense that could even be interpreted as a direct provocation or a declaration of war.
Though Garos had been born here, this was ultimately the territory of the Iron Dragon Maiden, Leticia, not his own personal domain.
By releasing his unique dragon might first, he was announcing his presence and location. This was a gesture of basic goodwill, a greeting to show he harbored no hostile intentions, rather than simply storming into the dragon's nest.
As Garos's unmasked dragon might swept through like a storm, the creatures living within the Heavenly Pit Territory—regardless of their strength—instantly felt an invisible, crushing weight born of primal instinct. They grew either restless and agitated or fell into a terrified silence.
The first to react to this uninvited guest was a pride of manticores, roused from their slumber.
A swarm of ferocious creatures, radiating a dense aura of evil, beat their massive, dragon-like leathery wings as they ascended from the steep cliffside caves below, resembling a gathering storm cloud.
Their features were unmistakable. They possessed humanoid heads topped with wild, shaggy manes, and bodies as powerful and agile as male lions. From their backs sprouted a pair of immense, tough, dragon-like wings. Their most defining characteristic, however, was the flexible scorpion's tail covered in hard chitin, tipped with a cluster of venomous spikes.
Manticores were not a race of superior intellect; their cognitive abilities were roughly on par with those of Earthstorm Bears. While they could engage in basic linguistic communication, evil blood coursed through their veins. They were eager to serve powerful lords who treated them well, could awe them into submission, and allowed them to satisfy their bloodlust during regular hunts.
Lawful evil dragons, brutal great goblin warlords, cold-blooded giants... these were their common employers.
The presence of a manticore pride within the core territory of the Iron Dragon Mother could only mean one thing—they were Leticia's familiar guards.
The manticore chief at the head of the pride was exceptionally massive, nearly rivaling the size of an ordinary young dragon.
Even more striking were the thick, short, and sharp black dragon horns growing from its scarred forehead. Between the gaps in its dense mane, one could faintly glimpse black dragon scales embedded beneath its skin, gleaming with a dim metallic luster. The entire creature emanated a faint yet unmistakable aura of an iron dragon.
This was a dragon-blooded manticore, enhanced through the dragon blood transformation ritual.
Manticores were creatures born with an innate love for combat and slaughter.
When they first sensed the aura of a powerful intruder approaching, they beat their wings and closed in rapidly, low, threatening growls rumbling in their throats, their hideous fangs fully exposed.
However.
When they finally beheld the majestic silhouette of the dragon hovering above the cliff's edge.
All their roars, all their ferocious killing intent, seemed to be instantly strangled by an invisible hand, vanishing into thin air after a brief, suffocating pause.
After a period of rest and recovery, Garos had fully returned to his peak condition.
Beneath his steel-forged scales lay a terrifyingly dense skeletal structure and muscle mass so immense that no other dragon of his size could possibly compare in sheer strength.
Even a red dragon, renowned for its strength, would likely seem frail and feel a twinge of self-consciousness if it stood face-to-face with Garos.
The "slender and weak" manticores were not even worth mentioning.
Their once fierce and violent gazes cleared instantly upon beholding the red-iron dragon's mountain-like physique.
"This place belongs to the great Iron Maiden—Lady Leticia!" the manticore chief shouted in stiffly spoken dragon language, immediately invoking their dragon lord's name to intimidate the intruder. "Stranger dragon! Without the Iron Maiden's explicit permission, leave this place at once!"
He tried to keep his voice firm, but the tremor betrayed his inner terror.
Returning to his homeland, Garos was in a good mood. He responded with a low, patient rumble, "Go tell your queen—her former offspring has grown into a powerful being and has come to visit today."
Upon hearing this, the manticore chief's massive, humanoid face twisted with obvious skepticism.
Though not the brightest, the manticore chief still possessed basic judgment.
The dragon before him might have been slightly shorter than the Iron Maiden, but its sheer bulk—a mountain of knotted muscle armored in layers of metallic scales and vicious spikes—exerted a visual impact and sense of weight that even surpassed the Queen in its memory.
A child this massive?
What a joke!
When did the Queen ever have offspring of such absurd proportions?
Still... It twitched its nose, sniffing the air. It did indeed catch a faint, unmistakable trace of the Iron Dragon Lord's bloodline clinging to the dragon.
Realizing that even if the entire manticore pride and all the other familiars in the territory rallied, they would be utterly powerless against this monstrous foe, the manticore chief finally lowered its head slightly, its tone softening considerably.
"Mighty Dragon," it said, "Her Majesty the Queen is not currently within the territory. Please, return another time."
So that's why.
Garos understood.
No wonder the Iron Dragon Mother hadn't appeared to answer his dragon might after all this time.
So she's not here.
"No matter," Garos said calmly. "I will wait for her return right here."
With that, he ignored the manticore pride. His massive dragon wings beat once more as he descended directly into the heart of the Heavenly Pit Territory.
(End of the Chapter)
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