Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 281: The Nature of Talent, Important News

Garoth was lazily sprawled across a glittering hill of treasure composed of countless gold coins, gems, and precious artifacts, enjoying the gentle magical energy therapy administered by several graceful, magic-proficient serpent woman warlocks.

The healing energy flowed like a warm stream.

Following the light touch of the attendants' palms, it slowly seeped into his resilient muscles, soothing the minor injuries and fatigue accumulated from intense training.

This was absolutely not about indulgence!

It was merely necessary relaxation for faster recovery, for quicker initiation of the next round of training... an unavoidable rest period completely unrelated to enjoyment.

—No matter what others thought, Garoth firmly believed this.

"Five years... my combat level has improved, but my life level remains stagnant."

"The higher it gets, the slower life level advancement becomes."

During these five years, his life level hadn't changed, though his aura had grown more profound, his size had increased somewhat, with his total length from head to tail approaching seventeen meters, his physique becoming more imposing, and all his attributes steadily improving.

"This is normal. Dragon life level growth curves aren't smooth and uniform but progress in stages.""I need to wait for my next dormancy... given my development speed, dragon sleep always comes early. The young adult dragon sleep shouldn't be too far away now."

Dragon growth methods differed fundamentally from many creatures, with dormancy at the core.

Daily training, combat, feeding, and other activities gradually accumulated and settled until being digested during dormancy periods, then boosting multiple life levels at once. The various strains, hidden injuries, and even subtle damage to soul and spirit left by battles would also be repaired during dormancy.

A dragon's lifespan.

Those seemingly long thousand-year years—most of that time was spent in deep, prolonged dragon sleep, with considerable water content in the actual active period.

"The adaptive evolution talent I possess—its ultimate potential remains unknown, but currently, its most core, fundamental effect lies in transforming life's underlying essence, expanding potential boundaries, raising that distant ceiling, rather than merely superficial life level increases for reference."

Garoth now understood the nature of his talent better.

"As for why my current life level surpasses that of dragons my age."

He continued pondering, showing a sudden realization: "The key lies in my day-after-day, year-after-year tempering, never slacking."

"Of course, it's also inseparable from those continuously supplied precious resources."

"The black oil containing surging energy, the brilliant gems that nourish the dragon soul, high-quality meat providing ultimate nutrition, even precious metals for body enhancement... these are all foundations supporting my growth."

"The proportion attributable to talent is actually minuscule."

Garoth thought quietly to himself.

Then, he slightly lifted his heavy eyelids, his gaze casually sweeping over the scales at his side.

The dragon scale surfaces were covered with dense, crisscrossing fresh sword marks, each deeply embedded in the scales, clearly visible—these were marks left by his powerful retainer, the Six-Armed Serpentfolk Sword Saint, during sparring sessions.

Beyond these newly added injuries.

More striking were those slightly darker-colored, seemingly more tough and condensed special patterns.

They resembled the growth rings of ancient trees, or the weathered crack patterns of rocks, covering his massive torso.

These were the medals symbolizing strength and experience—Battle-Hardened Patterns—that had settled after countless intense battles, through scales repeatedly shattering and stubbornly healing under powerful vitality.

This dense covering of Battle-Hardened Patterns was largely credited to his near "self-abusive" daily training methods.

After all, not all of Garoth's Battle-Hardened Patterns had naturally formed in life-or-death struggles; a significant portion had been deliberately "ground" out through daily requests for high-intensity attacks from powerful retainers to train resistance.

This method carried some element of cutting corners.

However, Garoth didn't mind.

He thought to himself: "The effect is achieved. This full body of Battle-Hardened Patterns should... be quite intimidating to those who know what they're looking at."

Only those truly belonging to dragon society's inner circles, or intelligent beings with extremely deep understanding of the dragon world, truly understood the significance contained in "Battle-Hardened Patterns" on a dragon's body.

Facing such discerning opponents, Garoth didn't even need to speak.

He simply needed to reveal the dense Battle-Hardened Patterns that already covered nearly one-fifth of his torso, and the substantial, tangible sense of pressure and might would be enough to make many enemies with insufficient mental fortitude and weaker will instantly terrified, losing courage before battle even began.

This had been proven during his intense battle with the Gold Dragon Alberto back then.

Even someone as proud and arrogant as Alberto, when he noticed the dense Battle-Hardened Patterns on Garoth's body that far exceeded those of ordinary adult dragons, couldn't suppress shock and astonishment in his vertical pupils, simultaneously creating openings due to this.

Steadying his mind, Garoth brought his attention back to the present, slowly closing his eyes slightly.

Although this was his regular rest period, it wasn't complete relaxation.

He often used such fragmented time to closely monitor the turbulent changes unfolding on the southern continent through the Bloodkin Chain and merchant group channels, collecting information, analyzing situations, quietly making cautious long-term plans for the convergence lands and his own future.

"Gordon."

The Red Iron Dragon gently tapped the intangible Bloodkin Chain in his heart, calling his full brother with different destinies—the Iron Dragon Gordon—who was far within the Lothrian Kingdom.

At the same moment.

Far within the Lothrian Kingdom, on the tranquil yet vibrant training grounds of Spark Monastery.

The massive, still-rounded Iron Dragon Gordon was becoming the focal point of the entire venue.

He lazily sprawled at the center of the grounds, surrounded by gazes filled with respect and near admiration, then under these watching eyes, slightly displayed his body that seemed somewhat more refined compared to three years ago, but whose overall contour remained rounded and full.

During these three years, Gordon had indeed put in effort.

He had hired an experienced court warrior as his training instructor and as wished embarked on the relatively balanced Hundred Battle Dragon path.

However, perhaps because his voracious appetite remained unchanged while training intensity was insufficient.

His physique hadn't transformed into the clearly defined, explosively powerful, intimidatingly mighty form like Garoth's that he deeply desired.

At most, he had evolved from original fat-wrapped-fat to current fat-wrapped-incipient-muscle—still looking overall sturdy and substantial, with a unique, endearingly strong appearance.

Currently, the Iron Dragon Gordon was comfortably narrowing his eyes.

He enjoyed the children's worshipful gazes while scanning these thriving youngsters.

Those children who had once appeared thin and weak due to malnutrition, each like bean sprouts in the wind, had undergone earth-shaking changes under ample food supply and carefully arranged, continuous physical training.

They had become physically strong, muscular, and energetic.

Some children had even grown more than twice as tall and robust compared to three years ago, filled with vigorous vitality and strength.

Among them.

Astor, Theron, Aisha... these three children's talents were particularly outstanding and dazzling.

Having experienced hardship, they deeply understood the preciousness of opportunity, their diligence and self-discipline reaching near-harsh levels. Under day-after-day, year-after-year sweat cultivation, about a year ago, they had clearly felt the flow and condensation of "qi" within their bodies, formally stepping onto the monk path.

Judging by their astonishing talent and current irresistible growth speed.

Gordon had no doubt that given sufficient time and resources, within twenty years, these three children would undoubtedly grow into powerful beings with considerable strength, capable of standing independently.

Just as Gordon was immersed in satisfied thoughts, the dragon blood flowing within him suddenly conveyed a subtle stirring.

Immediately following, a familiar and authoritative voice sounded—the call from his powerful brother in the distant convergence lands.

The Iron Dragon's spirits lifted.

"My dear brother."

Gordon immediately responded through the bloodline connection in his heart, saying: "Perfect timing. I just received extremely important news and was about to tell you."

"Is it about the Duchy of Harthale and Duchy of Abbe formally breaking relations and declaring war on each other?"

Garoth said: "I already know about this matter."

Through merchant group channels, such obvious and important matters reached him quickly.

Garoth understood clearly.

Superficially, the two great duchies of Harthale and Abbe were fighting over so-called sacred inviolability of territorial sovereignty.

But in reality, they were more like two sharp swords, gripped by behind-the-scenes sword holders.

Their current intense collision was largely just executing the sword holders' will, a carefully orchestrated probing engagement.

The Holy King had already fallen.

But the Lothrian Kingdom was, after all, a behemoth that had enjoyed centuries of resource tilt and development under his radiant protection.

Even now, with its internal conflicts, numerous problems, and even showing signs of aging fatigue, it couldn't change an established fact.

—It remained a kingdom with profound foundation, powerful military strength, and vast territory.

Those ambitious challengers lurking in the shadows, like jackals and vicious dogs, would never be foolish enough to launch frontal assaults initially, directly challenging this aging but still-clawed lion.

They would only cautiously extend testing claws, constantly provoking, probing, creating chaos at the edges... until they thoroughly confirmed the lion's weakness and sluggish response, then like sharks smelling blood, swarm up to completely tear it apart and devour it.

"That's correct."

Gordon confirmed Garoth's knowledge, but his tone then became deeper, more cautious.

"However, I have news more important than duchies going to war to tell you."

He paused, then slowly said: "The old king of Lothrian has fallen gravely ill and is bedridden."