Translator: AnubisTL
"When Heliam and Cahill awaken from their deep slumber, their power will have advanced to the next level," she said, her low, raspy voice pausing slightly before continuing. "Noble Pale Wing, I hope you will still maintain this enthusiasm then and personally join us for some combat training."
"I look forward to witnessing your heroic figure as you fight against the four of us at once, defeating and humiliating us."
She enunciated the last two words with particular clarity.
The threat and challenge implicit in her words were unmistakable.
The situation would indeed be drastically different when all four juvenile dragons, having undergone their deep slumber and advanced in strength, joined forces.
The wild dragon (red dragon Cahill) would use her formidablely tough body to soak up damage at the front.
The nature dragon (green dragon Ludwig) would provide a constant stream of healing and life support from the rear.
The storm dragon (blue dragon Heliam) would unleash devastating output with his raging thunder and hurricanes.
And then there was the undead dragon, Seraphina the Black Dragon, whose eerie curses and soul manipulation could harass and disrupt their foes.
With such synergy and combined might, even a prime-age white dragon like Treacy wouldn't dare claim a guaranteed victory. Even if she did ultimately win, the battle would be a grueling struggle—nothing like the effortless dominance she enjoyed now.
Treacy's instincts, though seemingly crude, were razor-sharp. She instantly caught the provocative undertone in the black dragon's words.
A cold, disdainful sneer escaped her lips, her frosty breath condensing into tiny ice crystals in the air.
"Hmph. That's a problem for the future."
"For now, you black-scaled brat, instead of worrying about the distant future..."
Her gaze pierced the black dragon.
"...you'd be better off worrying about your own immediate predicament."
Four dragons working together would drastically elevate their place in the ecological hierarchy.
Did Treacy not understand this simple truth?
She needed no "kind" reminder from the black dragon. She had already considered this possibility long ago.
But—
She didn't care about that at all. In fact, she already had a plan to deal with it.
Her solution was simple.
In one-on-one combat, even after they became juvenile dragons, they wouldn't be a match for a prime-age white dragon on her own for a very long time.
When that happened... she could simply rely on her absolute individual advantage to educate and discipline them one by one.
As for the distant future...
The possibility of the little dragons completely surpassing her in strength?
She had considered that, too.
And Treacy's response to this was... nothing short of brutally simple.
When the time came, she would just lie flat, admit defeat, and beg for mercy.
She would let them beat her, curse her, and vent their frustration on her as they pleased.
To her, this was merely a slight breeze and a bit of frost on the journey of dragon life.
Treacy didn't mind at all.
Ever since she had grasped the Dynamic Niche Theory, she had suddenly seen the light, as if she'd attained enlightenment, and developed an extremely "open-minded" outlook on dragon life.
After all, no matter what happened...
No matter how powerful or arrogant those little dragons might become... they could never change the ironclad fact, already etched into history—that they had all been thoroughly beaten by her, Treacy.
And more than once.
This glory and record of victory were enough to let her stand tall at any moment, and then continue training other newly arrived little dragons.
"Remember," the White Dragon Treacy's voice said, like the cold wind of a harsh winter, "do not try to play any self-righteous little tricks in front of a creature in a higher ecological niche than you, otherwise..."
Her gaze swept over the black dragon.
"...you will bear the consequences!"
The final warning fell with a heavy thud.
The Green Dragon Ludwig's keen instincts had already clearly smelled the thick malice filling the air, directed at the black dragon.
He quietly and imperceptibly retreated a few steps.
"Just like now! Black-scale, it's time you paid the price!"
The White Dragon Treacy's massive body, overflowing with cold air, suddenly stepped forward, and the solid ground trembled.
Accompanied by a dull whistle of breaking air.
Her thick, ice-covered tail swung in a vicious arc, slamming into the flank of the black dragon Seraphina before she could even fully react.
Boom!
With a thunderous crash, the black dragon's massive body was hurled into the air like a boulder from a catapult. She tumbled end over end, slamming heavily into the edge of the training grounds dozens of meters away, kicking up a massive cloud of dust.
"Black-scaled runt," White Dragon Treacy snarled, then lunged forward.
She had to repeatedly educate and humiliate her while she was still vulnerable, before she could truly grow and fight back.
Even if she had to pay for it later, Treacy wouldn't be the one losing out on this deal.
On the watchtower, Garos withdrew his gaze from the training grounds.
He slowly raised his head, staring far into the distance at the vast, boundless Sierre Wilderness—a land teeming with both opportunity and danger.
His gaze swept past the rolling hills of the Frontierlands, finally settling on the endless, ever-changing sky above the wilderness.
Hah.
A powerful gust of wind swept past, carrying the faint, sharp screech of metal scraping metal.
The elegant silhouette of the red-silver dragon Deborah circled briefly above the lookout tower, gliding like a falcon before precisely and lightly folding her wings to land beside the red-iron dragon.
She adjusted her posture, settling into a seated position with aristocratic grace, her four legs drawn slightly together as she sat beside him.
"What are you looking at?"
Deborah turned her slender neck slightly, her eyes meeting Garos's.
She carefully avoided the ferocious thorn spikes that protruded from his body like jagged blades, using the tip of her nimble, delicate tail to gently poke the red-iron dragon's broad, solid shoulder.
"The future."
The red-iron dragon's reply was exceptionally brief, his gaze still locked on the southern horizon.
Hearing this, the red-silver dragon Deborah instinctively followed Garos's gaze, looking out toward the distant wilderness of the southern sky.
But soon, she withdrew her gaze, refocusing on the red-iron dragon beside her.
"It seems you are ready to return to the Sierre Wilderness."
She knew Garos's past—he had been forced to retreat to this wild and barren frontier by circumstance.
Though he had gradually built a vast empire on this land, becoming the King of the Frontierlands, a figure who commanded respect and fear throughout the region, in Deborah's eyes, a flame had never been extinguished deep within Garos's heart.
(End of the Chapter)
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