The steel-backed bear's massive body stiffened.
To its horror, it discovered that striking this red lizard's claw with its own paw felt like hitting a red-hot branding iron. Not only did its bear paw throb with severe recoil, but a burning pain shot through it as well.
Wait, there was also the pressure that could only be felt up close. In an instant, every cell in its body seemed to be screaming at it to flee for its life.
Before the giant bear could turn around, Kael gave his dragon arm a subtle flick, and a surge of colossal force suddenly erupted.
The giant bear's massive body instantly lost its balance. Its thick hind legs stumbled and slipped against the muddy ground as it stumbled backward.
Before it could steady itself, Kael's dragon tail swept across, slamming brutally into the giant bear's flank and belly.
"Bang!"
The massive bear frame was sent rolling sideways by the strike, crashing into the ground covered in dead branches and fallen leaves. It even gouged out a shallow crater, sending dust and withered leaves flying everywhere.
Kael had held back his strength, not killing the giant bear outright, as he still had two more spells he wanted to test.
The fallen steel-backed bear let out a pained roar, struggling as it tried to roll over and get up.
Kael's golden vertical pupils narrowed slightly as brief, raspy Draconic words echoed through the forest.
The dark mud beneath the giant bear began to churn and surge, turning into viscous chains that rapidly wrapped around its torso and limbs, dragging it down into the dark muddy ground that had transformed into a mire.
"Quagmire", a Low-Tier spell. The ground beneath the target's feet instantly turns into thick, deep mud, continuously pulling the target downward. Those lacking sufficient strength would be buried in the mud.
To ensure the giant bear survived, Kael had deliberately adjusted the spell's coverage, leaving the bear's head exposed on the outside.
"Hmm, pretty good effect."
The Quagmire spell enhanced by Kael possessed even stronger binding power.
Seeing that no matter how hard the steel-backed bear struggled, it could not break free, Kael began chanting another incantation.
Pitch-black tree roots burst up out of the ground, dragging the giant bear out of the mire.
The steel-backed bear, which had thought it was saved, didn't even get a chance to breathe a sigh of relief before the roots that had just pulled it out began wrapping around its torso and limbs again.
The technique was so adept and felt so familiar that the bear was on the verge of tears, completely giving up on struggling.
Kael did not let its despair last too long. Stepping forward, he flipped his dragon claw and slammed a paw right onto the top of the giant bear's head.
The giant bear's limbs went limp, and without even a twitch, its breathing ceased entirely.
From start to finish, the steel-backed bear hadn't possessed even a shred of ability to resist.
"Not bad." Kael shook the bear fur off his claws, nodding in satisfaction.
He had only mastered these few spells on a basic level, but under the influence of a dragon's vast magic reserves and his own talent, the magic's effectiveness was far better than expected.
"Let's go, on to the next one." Saying that, Kael stowed the giant bear's carcass into his storage stomach.
The old priest swallowed hard and hurriedly led the way ahead.
He led Kael on a circuit along the river within the forest. Third-Tier scaled giant lizards, Third-Tier iron-backed boars—in front of Kael, killing these creatures was no different from slaughtering chickens.
At dusk, the setting sun filtered through the treetops, scattering over the ground like fish scales.
Kael's storage stomach was already stuffed with eight magical beasts. Made into basalt over rice alone, these things would be enough to feed him for more than a month.
Of course, these fresh ingredients were naturally meant to be shared with his dragon brother and sister, and incidentally, he could score some aquatic food and small prey from them to switch up their diet.
As for keeping the ingredients fresh, perhaps the creator of the dragon race had long anticipated this issue: the flow of time within that small space inside the storage stomach was extremely slow, leaving almost no worry about food spoiling.
Finally, under the old priest's guidance, Kael also gained a general familiarity with the surrounding environment in the forest. There were indeed quite a few Second-Tier and Third-Tier monsters, some even living in packs, but he didn't see a single Fourth-Tier monster.
It wasn't that Kael felt overly full of himself or let hotheadedness make him want to test his limits.
He had to make plans for his own future and that of the two little red dragons, mapping out the territory's development direction in advance, as well as understanding these fellows that were destined to become his food in the future, along with their weaknesses.
Oh well, thinking about all this wouldn't yield answers for now. After bidding farewell to the old priest, Kael flew back toward the dragon nest alone.
During the subsequent period, aside from meeting with Grok periodically to inquire about news from the outside world, Kael spent his time constantly selecting spells from his draconic heritage that had a high probability of being useful in the future.
After all, mastery mattered more than quantity. Settling down to practice after choosing a spell would certainly yield much better results than being a jack of all trades who only knew a superficial amount of everything.
Spurred by Kael's example, the two little red dragons also focused on their own tasks.
The dragon nest was filled with harmony, peacefulness, and thriving vitality.
...
The small border city outside the Whispering Forest also welcomed its opportunity for development.
Two months later...
The southern city gate of Emberfire City was even shabbier than imagined.
The city wall was built block by block using ordinary blue-grey bricks and mortar. The bricks hadn't even been trimmed evenly, and sparse weeds grew in the gaps.
The city gate was merely two thick oak boards studded with iron plates.
What caught the eye most was that across the entire stretch of the wall and gate, there wasn't a single rune.
In the prosperous regions of the kingdom, let alone city walls, even the ramparts of noble castles would have mages hired to carve warning and defensive magic runes into them.
Yet this city...
Sevein Lawrence sat atop his horse, looking up at this shabby city gate, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
Behind him followed a team that wasn't overly large but was well-ordered: five carriages carrying supplies, ledgers, and personal luggage; ten mounted guards accompanying them, all Fourth-Tier to Fifth-Tier practitioners handpicked by the butler, Morris; and several craftsmen and servants walking at the very end of the line.
Riding beside Sevein's horse, maintaining a distance of half a horse-length at all times, was a man draped in old-style warrior armor, as silent as an iron monument.
Garland.
An Eighth-Tier warrior, a retired member of the Royal Guard, who had been sponsored by the Lawrence family when he was young, for which the family had never asked for returns in the following days.
This time, his father had spent a heavy sum to invite him over. On the surface, he was a "guard," but in truth, Sevein knew very well in his heart that this was a blade his father had assigned to him, as well as a trump card.
Ever since entering the border territory, Garland hadn't spoken more than a few words.
His eyes had been continuously scanning the surrounding terrain—from the bushes on both sides of the road to the outlines of the distant rolling hills, to the sparse guards atop the city wall, everything was taken into those grey-blue eyes.
"Young Master, we have arrived," the butler Morris rode forward, speaking in a voice neither loud nor soft, just enough for Sevein to hear.
Morris was in his early fifties, lean and capable, dressed in a well-tailored dark grey butler suit. Among Fourth-Tier practitioners, he was considered on the older side, but having served the Lawrence family for thirty years, his administrative capabilities were far more valuable than his combat prowess.
"Mm," Sevein gave a low response, his eyes still taking in this city.
He was eighteen years old this year, medium-tall in stature, with delicate but not particularly striking features, and short brown hair groomed cleanly. Beneath his mage robes was a set of light leather armor, with a shortsword and a white wood staff hanging at his waist.
A Fourth-Tier mage.
In the Royal Capital Magic Academy, stepping into the Fourth-Tier at eighteen was considered average.
However, in that place teeming with talented individuals, it was thoroughly unremarkable. No matter how hard he worked, he wouldn't achieve great accomplishments, which was one of the reasons his father sent him to the border.
Additionally, if he remained in the royal capital, he would forever live in the shadow of his elder brother—a magical genius who, upon barely turning twenty and without using any potions or scrolls to aid breakthroughs, was already preparing to push into the Seventh-Tier.
Seeing the grand display of this group, the guards at the gate instantly straightened their backs. A guard who looked like a captain trotted over, rubbing his hands together with a flattering smile: "My Lord, may I ask who you are..."
"Lawrence Family, Sevein Lawrence," Morris stepped forward, handing over a document stamped with the family seal, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.
"We have come to Emberfire City to inspect trade routes, having already obtained authorization documents from the Kingdom's Border Affairs Bureau."
The guard captain took the document and flipped through it, his expression changing instantly. Bowing and scraping, he stepped to the side:
"My Lord, please enter. This subordinate will immediately notify the City Guard commander and the merchant guild."
Sevein didn't bother responding to him, riding his horse right through the city gate.
After entering the city, his brow furrowed even tighter.
Rate on N.U.
