Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 138: Stirring Up More Trouble

"Spare me, please forgive my ignorance and offense."

As the red iron dragon approached, Edmond recognized him as the leader and knelt in supplication, all traces of his former elegance and pride gone. His once-arrogant face now twisted into a servile, ingratiating smile. This so-called noble's son now appeared no different from the kobolds under Garoth's command.

"Honorable great dragon, my father's treasury contains seven tons of northern ice stones, three crates of mithril, and numerous magic scrolls. Just say the word, and I guarantee he'll deliver everything," Edmond fawned.

Survival was his priority now. He still had a bright, expansive future ahead—he swore to himself that once he became a legendary mage, he would hunt dragons far and wide to erase this humiliation.

Sorog and Samantha's eyes gleamed with instinctive greed, visibly tempted, but they didn't immediately agree. Instead, they exchanged a glance before looking toward the red iron dragon.

Garoth's iron-cast face remained impassive to these pleas. While ransoming Edmond to the viscount might yield substantial wealth, it would inevitably lead to dangerous negotiations. He doubted the other party would simply hand over the ransom without resistance.

Though Garoth felt the primal allure of treasure, compared to his own safety, that desire was instantly suppressed. Survival and growth—these were Garoth's paramount desires, eclipsing all else.

"Next time you think about taxing dragons, remember to bring a coffin," Garoth said, glancing at the iron dragon.

At this silent command, the iron dragon bared his cruel grin and raised his steel-forged claws. The young spellcaster paled.

In desperation, a flash of wit struck him—recalling dragons' arrogant nature, he masked his fear and shouted, "Killing me would only prove your cowardice!" His voice rose sharply: "You vile wyrms lack both courage and honor!"The iron dragon's claws paused mid-air.

Seizing the moment, Edmond stood, though his legs still trembled. He forced himself upright: "I am destined to become a legendary mage, a rising star of magic. You know well that if you let me live..." His gaze swept across the three dragons. "One day, I'll make you pay for today's actions!"

Samantha growled low: "Insignificant insect! Even given a hundred years—"

"Then let time tell!" Edmond interrupted with desperate resolve. "We'll see who's begging for mercy in the end!"

Garoth's slitted pupils narrowed as he studied this suddenly defiant human. To him, this noble's son was just a pathetic gambler staking his last chips in a life-or-death bet—all bluster with no substance. Moreover, throughout the entire battle, the man hadn't cast a single spell, lacking any combat experience to the point Garoth nearly forgot he was a spellcaster.

"Human, you amuse me," Garoth said with a mocking smile. "Run. I'll give you that chance to live."

Edmond froze momentarily before his pupils dilated with sudden hope, disbelief and wild joy spreading across his pale face. His retreat began cautiously slow, as if fearing to startle sleeping predators. But once certain Garoth wouldn't pursue, the young mage's survival instincts erupted.

His frantic escape was utterly graceless—the squelching of expensive mage boots in mud resembling a dying prey's last struggle.

"You actually ran when told to?" A cold whisper pierced Edmond's spine like an ice dagger.

The young noble froze mid-step, slowly turning to reveal hope's grotesque mask still clinging to his face—an expression that reminded Samantha of a frog caught in a snake's gaze.

As dragon claws descended, Edmond's lips moved as if reciting a protective incantation. Yet until his final breath, no spell took form. Mortal flesh proved fleeting before absolute power.

Rainwater washed radial bloodstains across the ground, carrying bone-flecked gore into the earth. Iron dragon Sorog prodded a gold-embroidered cloth fragment with his claw, chuckling: "He said he'd become legendary."

"Now he is," Samantha grinned, the red dragon adding maliciously, "The most pathetically slain spellcaster in history—dying like some common mortal."

Meanwhile, all sounds of battle had ceased, leaving only the storm's howl. Without the dragons needing to lift another claw, their minions had exterminated every last knight. Torrential rain swiftly erased combat traces.

"Karu, immediately lead the troops north to Tempering Heights. Reunite with the People of Molten Iron who went ahead," Garoth commanded the Gluttonous Ogre.

As for the scattered weapons, alchemical golem remains, and frost giant wreckage—potential tracking spells might linger, and with no time for thorough inspection, Garoth ordered no retrieval.

The victorious monsters didn't linger, immediately embarking on a mass rain-soaked migration toward Tempering Heights. These were elite troops—though departing later, they might outpace the earlier evacuating forces.

"Samantha, Sorog, with me." Garoth beat his wings, ascending through the downpour. The red and iron dragons followed closely behind, all three soaring through stormclouds.

"Aren't we going to Tempering Heights?" Sorog questioned, noticing their current course diverged from the destination.

Garoth gazed down at the shadowed land below: "After this battle, we'll be exposed—entering the Thousand Serpent Traces garrison's sights. We can't stay here."

No longer yielding, slaughtering those who offended him—it felt exhilarating. Yet consequences followed inevitably, forcing abandonment of years-established territory. Compared to the Lothrian Federation's colossal might, a young dragon remained too vulnerable for direct confrontation.

"But since we've decided to migrate..." The red iron dragon bared his fangs, voice deepening: "Let's ensure more understand—dragons aren't to be trifled with, even young ones!"

Years of restraint now erupted, revealing their fangs to the world. Still emotionally charged, Garoth decided—since exposed, why not strike another massive blow before armies mobilized? Minimize losses from their forced migration.

"What's our next move?" Samantha asked, flying at Garoth's right flank.

"This direction..." Sorog's eyes brightened with realization. "You're targeting the Skyfloat Stone mine?"

Skyfloat Stones weren't ordinary ore, but a type of wind-attuned magical gemstone. The Halden Empire's Skyreach Magic Academy was constructed from vast quantities of these stones through magical engineering—a floating institution amidst clouds and winds.

Having dwelled here for years, Garoth had observed the terrain during flights, memorizing mineral distributions. Sorog similarly understood local vein layouts. This particular Skyfloat Stone mine was small-scale, belonging to the Raymond Duchy.

Through Edmond, the tax officers, and the knights' insignias, Garoth had identified their origins. Since conflict was inevitable, why not deepen the offense?

Being a minor gem deposit, its garrison wasn't overwhelming—at least, against Garoth's mobility, they couldn't kill him unless he foolishly prolonged combat. The ongoing storm provided perfect cover.

"Robbery! Robbery!" Samantha exhaled fiery snorts, exhilarated. "I want to rob! Burn! Gems!" As a true red dragon, she naturally adored plundering—just hated being the plundered.