novelraw Chapter 372: Yet another patricide without regret
Chapter 372: Yet another patricide without regret
Chapter 372 Another Parricide Without Regret
Night thickened, soaking the sky over Dragon Valley.
Not long after, in a spacious, comfortable bedchamber deep inside Scorchsteel Fortress, the brass-silver dragon Deborah, who had been resting for a long time, slowly woke up.
“Damn Garoth, he really is a tireless monster!”
Feeling the soreness that still pulsed through her muscles, Deborah couldn’t help baring her teeth and muttering under her breath.
She carefully moved her stiff limbs, then tried not to make a sound as she crept out, intending to sneak outside for some fresh air.
“Deborah, you’re awake~”
At that moment, a clear, cheerful voice sounded.
The faerie dragon Vira fluttered in through an open window, beating her translucent little wings.
By now, the epic session between the Red Dragon Queen and the Lord of Molten Iron had already wrapped up earlier.Having had her fill of fun, the red dragon Samantha left after bidding farewell to the faerie dragon, and set off back to the Ser Wilderness to oversee alchemical industry.
The ever-energetic, playful faerie dragon, feeling a bit bored after Samantha’s departure, naturally thought of visiting Deborah, and just happened to arrive when the brass-silver dragon was waking up.
“Vira, you came at the perfect time.”
Deborah lowered her voice and asked, “Garoth... is he still out training? Hmph, that evil red iron dragon. If he sees I’m awake, he might force me to train again.”
Vira blinked.
She pondered for a second or two, then grinned and said, “No, no! Garoth finished training a while ago, he’s resting now, sleeping soundly. You can go out without any problem, don’t worry!”
A flicker of suspicion passed through Deborah’s eyes; she did not immediately relax because of Vira’s words.
After all, she knew how much her little friend loved pranks.
However, at the very instant Deborah hesitated, Vira’s smile vanished. She put on an extremely serious, righteously indignant expression and said, “Deborah! We must face reality! This red iron dragon is simply too evil! Today he forces you to train, tomorrow that brutal rule might fall on my head!”
“Trust me, I, Vira, will firmly stand by your side and be your most reliable ally.”
“We’ll resist his tyranny together!”
Hearing Vira’s impassioned declaration of alliance and seeing the earnest look in her little eyes, Deborah’s last trace of caution melted away and she nodded, moved.
“All right! Vira, from today on, you are my staunchest ally against Garoth’s tyranny!”
She mustered her courage, stepped out of Scorchsteel Fortress’s grand gates, and then clung to the edge of the high platform, poking only half her head and a pair of eyes over the rim to quietly observe the valley below.
But what reflected in Deborah’s view was nothing like what Vira had described.
The dark-red, muscle-bulging figure, a sight that made a dragon’s heart quake, was hammering away with thunderous rumbles in the valley bottom. The training was intense, furious, terrifying in its strength.
The steaming cold waves even distorted the air around them!
“Vi—ra?!”
Deborah’s heart clenched so hard she almost forced the syllables out of her throat.
She suddenly turned toward where Vira had been, but found the spot empty, save for a powerful illusion of Vira rolling on the ground and making faces at her, while the air still echoed with the mischievous, proud voice of that little rascal.
“You’ve been tricked, you’ve been tricked!”
“Nyah nyah~ This time it’s the cunning Vira’s victory!”
Clearly, the faerie dragon was playing a prank, and Deborah was the target.
“Ah! I actually fell for Vira’s trick!”
Deborah shook her tail in annoyance at herself for being fatigued and unfocused, for failing to see through Vira’s not-very-sophisticated ruse.
She and Vira often played games and contests together.
Pranks on each other were part of their daily amusement.
Because Deborah’s mind was usually more finely tuned and perceptive, in most previous encounters the careless faerie dragon had been the one to suffer.
But this time, due to her lack of focus, Deborah had been successfully outplayed by Vira.
Snapping back to attention, Deborah held her breath and spun around, preparing to slip back into the fortress as fast as possible and pretend she had never woken or left.
But she had only taken a few steps when—
Whoosh—!
A gust of wind suddenly blew.
Instantly, Deborah’s view was completely filled by a huge, weighty forge-red iron wall.
Looking closely, the wall was layered with overlapping, hammer-forged metal plates like dragon scales.
It was Garoth’s scales.
Deborah had no time to dodge. With a clang she collided solidly against Garoth’s broad, hard chest.
The result was obvious.
Garoth’s huge body did not budge at all, as if she had crashed into a mountain rather than a dragon.
Deborah yelped, stars exploding behind her eyes. She staggered back several steps, nearly tripping and sitting down from the blow.
She shook her slightly dizzy head and forced a guilty smile at the red iron dragon who completely blocked her way.
“Garoth, what a coincidence.”
“I—I actually haven’t fully rested yet, I just woke up and stepped out for a bit of exercise, some movement.”
“You keep training, keep going, you don’t need to...”
Before she could finish, her trailing words suddenly stretched into a long, high-pitched scream.
The burly red iron dragon extended a massive claw, scooped her up, and hoisted the comparatively tiny Deborah onto his shoulder.
Then his enormous wings unfurled with a thunderous roar, and with Deborah slung on his shoulder, he headed down to the training field in the valley!
“Deborah, you should not be so lazy. Since you’re awake, we continue.”
“I will whip you properly!”
The red iron dragon became a demonic drill sergeant; his posture and movements were aggressive and forceful as he once again forced Deborah to train with him.
He was somewhat rough, allowing no slacking or retreat.
Yet strangely, after Deborah’s initial helplessness, she found she didn’t dislike Garoth in this state. His unquestionable dominance carried an odd kind of appeal.
As the training continued, exhaustion washed over her again like a tide,
but Deborah’s mindset slowly shifted. She began to adapt to and even accept this forced growth.
She majored in magic studies, focusing on arcane research and spellcraft.
Nevertheless, for any great dragon, a more robust body never hurt,
and while Garoth’s demands were harsh, they were not without measure. He didn’t push her to the point of damaging her foundation, but more to challenge her laziness and limits.
Meanwhile, far from Dragon Valley and beyond the wind and snow.
The prime-phase blue dragon Zoraya beat her wings and tore through the sky like a streak of blue lightning, swiftly crossing the roiling Estonian Great River and soon arriving above the snow-blanketed convergence lands.
“The Lord of Molten Iron. From the intelligence, he should be a fire-type or at least linked to fire.”
“Why would he be willing to, or choose to, live in such a freezing environment? That doesn’t match his elemental attributes.”
Zoraya tore open the heavy curtain of wind and snow and involuntarily recalled the information she had gathered earlier.
“There are rumors he conquered the beauty-worshipping phoenix with mere looks and demeanor.”
“There are rumors he is the son of that Mad King Gorthax, cruel and remorseless, who committed patricide without a shred of conscience.”
“There are rumors that a mere tremor of his body made the Map Kings of the northwest choose to submit.”
“And more absurd rumors claim he’s very, very young—only a Young Dragon.”
Such rumors spread widely in Ser Wilderness circles.
“Most of them are exaggerated, especially the bit about him being only a Young Dragon... that’s ridiculous.”
Zoraya sniffed inwardly.
“Only those short-lived races that never truly understand great dragons would assume that.”
“A dragon able to slay Gorthax and rule a region, no matter how gifted, would at least have long passed adolescence or just entered prime. He cannot be a mere Young Dragon.”
“Still, the rumors can’t be entirely baseless.”
She thought calmly: “This Lord of Molten Iron must have many unusual traits impressive enough to shock other creatures, which is why such legendary tales arose.”
At that thought, Zoraya’s curiosity about this red iron dragon grew stronger.
She had been raised within the Dominik Dragon Cluster as direct kin of the cluster leader.
Thanks to superior bloodline and a rare mutation talent, her combat power always exceeded other blue dragons of the same rank, and her life-level advancement outpaced ordinary blues.
Her father, Perest, Heart of Thunder, had once declared that with a few hundred more years of growth and trials, she would surpass him and become a stronger leader of the Dominik Cluster.
Because of that pride, Zoraya—who despised most contemporary or equal-rank dragons—could only imagine how shocked and intrigued she was when she heard stories about the red iron dragon.
“I’ll soon verify whether those rumors are true.”
The blue dragon gathered her scattered thoughts and accelerated toward Dragon Valley using the coordinates provided earlier by the iron dragon Sorog.
After a while,
a valley silhouette rising from a vast snowplain gradually came into Zoraya’s view.
Even from a considerable distance she could faintly sense the mingled dragon presences over that area.
The howling wind could not blow it away, meaning a substantial number of dragons lived there.
“This is it, Dragon Valley, the domain of the Lord of Molten Iron.”
“There were quite a few strongholds along the way... He has deep roots in the convergence lands.”
Zoraya brightened and beat her wings, closing in on the valley.
But before she reached the valley’s upper airspace,
whoosh whoosh whoosh—!
The snow curtain on her flank was suddenly ripped apart by powerful gusts! Large, fierce silhouettes appeared and quickly encircled the blue dragon.
They had leathery wings like great dragons and muscular stout talons. Their bodies were covered in thick dark scales and their tails bore needle-like venomous barbs.
They were Dragon Valley’s aerial guards.
A flock of bipedal wyverns.
“Strange dragon! Stop immediately! State your identity and purpose!”
The wyvern leader roared in a deep voice, eyes blazing, showing no fear simply because the other was a mature dragon.
Zoraya spread her wings and hovered steadily in midair.
She swept her gaze across the wyvern formation and said, “I am Zoraya, daughter of the Dominik cluster leader, here to pay respects to the mighty Lord of Molten Iron regarding urgent matters.”
The wyvern leader glanced aside and exchanged a look with a slightly smaller wyvern beside him.
Whoosh!
The noticed wyvern immediately understood, tilted nimbly in the air, beat its wings and shot like an arrow downward toward Dragon Valley, evidently to deliver the message.
“Stay here quietly. Do not make any moves without permission.”
The wyvern leader withdrew his gaze but kept Zoraya under close watch, his tone hard.
Zoraya said nothing in response.
She was too disdainful to waste words with these sub-dragon vassals. She simply hovered, showing patience and peaceful intent while waiting for a reply.
Not long after, the wyvern that had departed returned. It landed beside the leader and hissed softly a few times.
Then, the wary wyvern flock slowly loosened their formation, opening an aerial lane to Dragon Valley and allowing the mature blue dragon to approach.
Zoraya relaxed a little and flew toward the majestic valley dimly visible through the blizzard.
As she closed in, her sight pierced the swirling snow, and she first made out the crown-like fortress perched atop the valley peak—Scorchsteel Fortress.
“To build a grand fortress on such a perilous place, the other side must have wealth and resourcefulness.”
Zoraya rapidly assessed the situation in her mind.
She had come both to facilitate talks and to gauge the dragon cluster’s strength; whether it led to war or peace, she wanted some certainty.
In an instant she was directly above Dragon Valley.
She instinctively looked down, her gaze cutting through the thinning snow to the valley floor.
And her view was immediately dominated by a towering figure.
Even the cool-headed blue dragon inhaled sharply, eyes widening, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
What did she see?!
A dragon so monstrously powerful that even red dragons known for strength looked somewhat diminished beside him — a terrifying colossus.
He stood like a mountain forged of muscle and steel.
Layered scales, uniquely structured bladed wings and tail, a powerful torso, and a mixed-lineage metal dragon lying beside him as if exhausted and beaten—these left an indelible impression on Zoraya.
The fiery veins crisscrossing his body were slowly fading, his aura weakening.
Yet even so, the natural sense of power emanating from him made the hovering Zoraya deeply uneasy, as if she were exposed before an existence that could kill at any moment, her life no longer under her control.
What astonished and puzzled Zoraya most was the coexistence of two utterly different temperaments in him.
One was savage, annihilating aggression and majesty; the other, a calm, abyssal reason and profundity.
These two qualities, which should contradict like fire and water, coexisted in him now, forming a unique aura.
“Perhaps... this Lord of Molten Iron is even stronger than my father.”
Feeling the lingering dragon might of the Lord of Molten Iron, the thought rose involuntarily in Zoraya’s mind.
Just then, a calm, oppressive, unequivocal voice spoke:
“Come down.”
The red iron dragon raised his head and said.
Although physically lower on the ground, in that daze Zoraya felt instead that she was being looked down upon from a height.
Facing Garoth’s eyes, bloodshot at the edges, calm and dangerous,
Zoraya’s mind went blank, all distractions instantly cleared.
She dared not delay and immediately lowered her flight, landing not far from Garoth.
She folded her wings and slightly bowed her beautiful head, which sported distinctive antler-like branched horns.
“Zoraya of Dominik, by order of Perest, Heart of Thunder, leader of the Dominik cluster.”
The blue dragon said, “Honorable and mighty Lord of Molten Iron Garoth, I offer greetings. It is an honor to behold your majesty.”
Her posture and words represented submission and respect in draconic social custom, placing herself in a lower position with no provocation intended.
Garoth scrutinized the blue envoy.
His gaze lingered for a moment on her pretty sky-blue scales and the elegant branched horns.
“My Molten Iron Tribe has sheltered several young dragons from the Dominik cluster.”
Garoth cut straight to the point, no small talk, bluntly asking, “You come regarding them?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Zoraya admitted calmly, maintaining respect. “On behalf of the Dominik cluster, I sincerely wish to open communication with you and negotiate this matter peacefully.”
Her voice paused slightly, then shifted subtly.
“However, beyond conveying the clan’s will, I have a private request to plead with you.”
“This matter represents only myself, Zoraya, and has nothing to do with the cluster.”
Zoraya slowly lifted her head, her clear eyes reflecting Garoth’s figure.
Garoth’s expression remained unchanged.
“Speak.”
He gave only the simple command.
Zoraya fell silent for a few seconds as if organizing her words.
Then, under Garoth’s gaze she steeled herself and said in a low voice, “I ask you to help me kill the leader of the Dominik cluster, my father.”
“In return, I am prepared to pay the appropriate price.”
Huh?
You want to kill your father too?
Is this some sort of vile dragon tradition?
Garoth’s expression shifted ever so slightly upon hearing this utterly unexpected request.
Dragon family ties are fragile, and even so, parricide is rare. If he wasn’t sure the blue dragon was serious, he might have thought she was mocking him.