Translator: AnubisTL
Burning Steel Citadel, Fourth Floor.
Under the brilliant, dazzling afternoon sun, the red-iron dragon stood silently on the rough, sturdy edge of the lookout tower.
He bowed his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the wide training ground below in Dragon Valley, which was covered in claw marks and scorched imprints.
There, a confrontation of vastly unequal power was unfolding.
White Dragon Treacy's massive, frigid body—resembling a mountain of ice—was using its absolute strength advantage to suppress two juvenile dragons. Though they had grown several times larger than their hatchling forms, they still appeared diminutive before her.
Seraphina, her body a void of black, and Ludwig, his scales a vibrant emerald green.
A fierce combat training session was underway, all under the red-iron dragon's watchful eye.
Within the training ground, energy surged and dragon shadows flickered.
Piercing ice blades and frigid winds howled through the air, leaving trails of white frost.
Venomous magical vines burst from the earth like living creatures, their corrosive green light coiling and tearing.
An invisible weakness curse clung like a bone-eating maggot, attempting to erode the white dragon's will and defenses.
And then there was the most primal, direct form of dragon combat—gleaming claws slashing viciously, and massive bodies clad in heavy scales colliding with tremendous force, producing the ear-grating screech of metal scraping metal and heavy, dull thuds.
A relentless barrage of attacks, a storm of varied and vicious assaults, rained down upon the motionless, pale figure.
Yet.
This seemingly ferocious onslaught did not last long.
White Dragon Treacy let out a roar that shook the very air. Relying on her vast age advantage and the immense gap in size and strength it afforded, she forced her way forward, shrugging off the black dragon's curse and the green dragon's strangling, venomous vines.
Her massive claws, coated in thick frost, swung out like siege rams. With unmatched brutality, she tore through the juvenile dragons' seemingly impenetrable defense.
Finally.
With a thunderous crash, she descended like a bolt from the blue. One colossal claw pinned green dragon Ludwig's neck to the ground, while the other crushed black dragon Seraphina's back like a falling mountain.
The overwhelming force, combined with the bone-chilling frost that continuously seeped from her claws—cold enough to freeze steel—instantly seized the juvenile dragons' muscles and joints. They were pinned to the frigid, unyielding ground like specimens nailed to a board, completely unable to move.
"Green-skinned runt. Black-scaled runt."
White Dragon Treacy raised her head high, her eyes sweeping over the two "little ones" she had utterly subdued with the smug pleasure of a victor. Her voice boomed, dripping with mockery.
"Too weak. You are simply too weak. Even after the baptism of deep slumber, successfully stepping into the juvenile stage and gaining greater power, your pitiful assault still cannot make me—the noble Pale Wing—shed a single, insignificant drop of blood."
The green dragon Ludwig and the black dragon Seraphina were indeed no longer the tiny young dragons they had been.
After a deep slumber lasting several years, akin to a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, they had both passed their sixteenth year, officially entering the juvenile stage, where vitality is more abundant and strength begins to grow significantly. Their bodies were also several sizes larger than they had been before their slumber.
Unfortunately.
Before White Dragon Treacy, who was in her prime and possessed no lack of innate talent, their modest growth was insignificant and still failed to bridge the gap.
As for the other two little dragons in the tribe...
The blue dragon Heliam and the red dragon Cahill, juvenile dragons who were slightly older and a cut above in strength, had just entered their own critical deep slumber period to accumulate power.
The next time they awoke from their profound dragon sleep, their life grade would undergo a leap... and they would most likely advance to become juvenile dragons with even greater strength and size.
White Dragon Treacy thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of completely suppressing her opponents.
She pressed her massive, ice-covered claws into the immobilized black and green dragons, deliberately grinding them down with a sadistic pleasure.
Only when she felt the last flicker of resistance vanish beneath her talons, and the juvenile dragons' defiant roars faded into heavy, suppressed gasps, did she finally release her crushing grip, satisfied.
Freed from the unbearable weight, the juvenile green and black dragons' chests heaved like bellows, their lungs greedily gulping the thin, freezing air.
They struggled to their feet, slowly crawling up from the icy ground.
The sight of them was harrowing.
Their dragon scales were shattered and upturned in great patches, like metal tiles ravaged by hail. Wisps of steaming dragon blood seeped from the wounds, spreading in dark crimson stains across the frozen earth. Their once-lustrous scales were now caked with filth, gravel, and the dust of the training grounds, leaving them looking utterly wretched.
Yet, in stark contrast to their battered appearance, their demeanor was unexpectedly calm.
They showed no signs of losing their reason or roaring in blind rage over their total defeat and the white dragon's undisguised humiliation. Instead, deep within their eyes lay a restraint and forbearance far beyond the maturity of ordinary juvenile dragons.
The reason... was actually quite simple.
Similar scenes had already played out countless times during their past training...
After being repeatedly crushed and subjected to countless insults from her cruel words...
As a black dragon naturally adept at endurance and deep thought, and a green dragon even more cunning and skilled at assessing the situation... they had already learned, through countless agonies of refinement, how to forcibly suppress and bury deep within them the boiling rage and intense sense of humiliation in their hearts.
They gradually grew accustomed to this restraint, viewing it as a mandatory course for survival and growth.
"Well performed."
White Dragon Treacy maintained her condescending posture, her tone tinged with a hint of patronizing praise.
"It seems that after so many 'friendly' exchanges, you two little brats have completely recognized your humble ecological niche in this valley, before the great Pale Wing."
Black Dragon Seraphina extended her dark red tongue, slowly licking the dragon blood seeping from a deep, bone-deep wound on her arm.
She raised her dark dragon eyes and gazed at the white dragon.
(End of the Chapter)
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