“How interesting!” Kael said in pleasant surprise, looking at the wolf carcass on the ground. “It seems there are quite a few good things in this forest.”
After finishing lunch, taking advantage of his noon nap time, he began carefully recalculating his discoveries from the morning patrol.
“There’s plenty of prey here, and their combat power isn’t high. It’s quite suitable for bringing Carlos and Nora over to practice later.”
After thinking it through, Kael curled up under a boulder by the river and began planning.
After another small half-day, just as a thorough plan for hunting and training his older brother and sister dragons was taking shape, an unfamiliar smell wafted into Kael’s nostrils.
Sweat and animal hides mixed with strange odors—he immediately searched his draconic heritage.
“Hmm? A goblin?”
Looking in the direction of the smell, the information on that green-skinned humanoid unfolded before Kael’s eyes.
Grok: Third-Tier, goblin, goblin warrior. Skills: Piercing, Armor Breaker, Berserk.
Seeing that green-skin still hiding in the bushes behind a tree, completely unaware that he had already been spotted by a cheat dragon with wallhacks active.
“Hey.”
“Come out, you’re not hiding well enough.”
The figure behind the tree froze abruptly.
Seeing that the giant dragon’s gaze was practically locking eyes with his own, Grok almost bounced out.
He held his bone spear across his front, his grey-green face full of dread, his eyes staring fixedly at the dark red figure across from him.
Before being discovered, he had already seen clearly that it was a dragon—a red dragon.
During the process of teaching him common knowledge of the continent, the old priest had mentioned that such creatures were extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous and immensely powerful.
Just as he was preparing to retreat, his presence had been exposed by this red dragon.
Moreover, this red dragon across from him actually spoke Continental Common Tongue! Hadn't the old priest said that such creatures disdained learning the languages of other races?
Besides, it had taken him five whole years to learn Continental Common Tongue from the old priest, while the red dragon before him looked to be at most a wyrmling.
Looking at the fellow across from him, whose dark red scales gleamed with a cold, hard luster among the tree shadows, calmly gazing at him with a pair of golden slit pupils.
Inside Grok’s body, the oppressive pressure emanating from deep within the bloodline washed over him, making his knees go soft, nearly forcing him to kneel.
“Y-You...” Grok’s voice cracked. “You’re from the mountain...”
The tribe’s old priest had said that an Exalted One lived by the extinct volcano, an existence that the entire Whispering Forest had to look up to.
Although the red dragon before him was still small, that aura stemming from deep within the bloodline still filled his heart with utter dread.
“Oh?” Kael also looked at the goblin before him who could speak Continental Common Tongue in surprise, temporarily suppressing the killing intent in his heart.
“I am from the mountain.” He tilted his head, preparing to bluff this fellow.
“And who are you? This forest doesn’t seem to be goblin territory. Could it be that you want to...”
“I-I am Grok Broken-Tooth of the Broken-Tooth Tribe!” The little green-skin forced himself to state his background, his palm holding the bone spear drenched in sweat.
“This forest is our tribe’s hunting ground. I-I was just patrolling today...” Panic-stricken, Grok completely exposed information about himself and his tribe’s old priest.
As it turned out, yesterday afternoon this guy had discovered the traces of a human adventurer party. Grok and his subordinates pursued them all the way to the edge of the forest, then fought the adventurers and forced the human party into the bushland.
Which was the group dealt with by the three little wyrmlings last night.
Grok originally thought this was a great merit, but when he returned to the tribe and reported it, the old priest blew his top on the spot, whacking his head with a staff and scolding him from dusk until the sun completely set.
“Do you have any idea who lives on that mountain?! That is an Exalted One we all must look up to! Yet look at you, actually driving a mere few humans toward the Exalted One’s home! If you ended up disturbing that Exalted One, the entire Broken-Tooth Tribe would be buried with you...”
After finishing the scolding, he even punished him to patrol outside the tribe to reflect on his actions, forbidding him from returning for half a month.
Grok felt aggrieved to no end.
He felt he hadn't done anything wrong. Humans were prey, hunting was a warrior’s duty, and judging from the group’s tracks, they were going into that bushland anyway.
But he didn't dare disobey the old priest’s words, so he could only bottle up a stomach full of anger, pacing back and forth in the forest all day, walking further and further until he approached the place where that bad thing happened last night.
And then, he was discovered by Kael.
“If you want to laugh at me, go ahead and laugh,” Grok said coldly, though his hand gripping the spear tightened slightly.
He didn't dare provoke the red dragon before him, but he was also unwilling to lose face and show weakness.
Kael looked at him for a moment, then suddenly said:
“Why would I laugh at you? On the other hand, do you want to have a fight with me?”
Grok was stunned.
“That suffocating frustration on you can be smelled from miles away.” Kael wanted to continue provoking him.
“What? You don't dare? Don't worry, even if you lose, I won't eat you.”
“Could it be that a grand Third-Tier warrior like you doesn't even have the courage to touch a Second-Tier little dragon like me?”
Grok’s breathing gradually turned heavy.
He was holding in a belly full of rage with nowhere to vent, and this little dragon had actually delivered himself to his doorstep.
He took another careful look. This body length, this aura—it really was just a Second-Tier little red dragon. Perhaps dragon hatchlings weren't very strong before growing up.
Meanwhile, he was a Third-Tier warrior and a future pillar of the Broken-Tooth Tribe.
“Fine!” Grok gripped his bone spear tightly, battle intent flaring up in his eyes. “If you lose...”
“I won't lose,” Kael said.
Grok moved first.
With a low growl, he kicked off the ground with both feet, charging forward like a cannonball, his bone spear thrusting straight at Kael’s chest.
He put all his strength into this thrust, the spear tip breaking through the wind with a ruthless force.
He didn't dare kill a dragon, but he wanted this dragon to know that a goblin warrior was not to be messed with.
Kael stood in place, not even sidestepping to dodge.
He raised his front claw and swiped casually.
Crack!
That bone spear—ground from the finest beast bones in the Broken-Tooth Tribe and capable of withstanding the charge of a Third-Tier magical beast—was snapped into two pieces by a single claw like a dry twig.
Holding the remaining half of the bone spear, Grok stumbled from the momentum of that force, nearly tumbling to the ground.
He froze in shock.
“Round one.” Kael retracted his claw. “If you still have strength left, come again.”
Grok stared at the broken half of the bone spear in his hand, his teeth grinding together.
He threw away the broken spear and charged bare-handed, throwing a punch at Kael’s flank, the wind from his fist carrying battle aura.
“Armor Breaker,” a low-tier warrior combat skill. A fist wrapped in battle aura could punch through iron armor.
Thump!
The fist smashed onto the red dragon’s dark red scales, emitting a dull thud.
Kael remained completely unmoving.
Grok felt as though his fist had struck a red-hot anvil, a surge of intense pain traveling up through his bones. The green skin on his face seemed to turn somewhat pale from the pain.
“Round two.” Kael’s voice showed no fluctuation. “Do you have any other tricks?”
Grok’s eyes turned red.
A low roar issued from his throat, and the aura on his body suddenly surged.
“Berserk,” an innate combat skill of beastkin. Overdrawing stamina and losing rationality in exchange for a short burst of power.
His muscles bulged, blue veins bulging on his grey-green skin. The whole goblin was like an enraged beast, leaping straight forward, wanting to grab the red dragon’s neck and flip the entire dragon over.
Kael finally moved.
He simply whipped his neck.
Grok’s entire body was like being struck by a giant sledgehammer, flying seven or eight meters away and slamming heavily against an old tree.
The tree trunk shuddered rustlingly, and then the goblin slid down the trunk, sprawling on the ground, unable to climb back up for a long time.
Rate on N.U.
