Translator: AnubisTL
The Sierre Wilderness?
The red-iron dragon mused, "I have a suggestion."
He looked at Alberto and said, "Countless powerful creatures, like sharks scenting blood, will swarm here to reveal their claws and fangs, seize interests, and showcase their prowess as the Federation's great ship founders."
"When that time comes, the seemingly desolate Sierre Wilderness will become the battleground for countlessly ambitious men, raiders, and emerging factions."
"And among them, naturally, will be me and the Ironforged Tribe I represent."
It was precisely because Alberto sensed the immense opportunity presented by the Federation's internal chaos that he had set his sights on the Frontierlands as a stepping stone.
Similarly, Garos had decided to return to the even more chaotic yet infinitely promising Sierre Wilderness because he foresaw this storm sweeping through the South!
The world never lacked for the ambitious.
For power, for resources, for expansion, for survival... or perhaps for some grander ideal.
As time passed, more and more powerful beings with similar motivations would flood into this chaotic land.
To seize the greatest benefits in the unprecedented chaos to come, and to secure the most advantageous position in this feast... Garos knew all too well that his current preparations had to be as thorough as possible!
For example, securing a powerful potential ally.
If the young gold dragon before him were pushed to his limit, he could use his magic scale to rival a half-grown adult gold dragon for a short time.
Gallos met the young gold dragon's gaze, his words starkly blunt. "In the future, as our paths stretch and expand across the wilderness, we may inevitably find ourselves on opposite sides, becoming competitors, or even enemies."
Then, shifting his tone, he continued, "But before that, in the early days of chaos, when we face other enemies who are stronger, greedier, and more threatening..."
"As kin sharing the same dragon blood, we can... lend each other a hand. We may be future rivals... but we can also be temporary allies and friends."
Since Alberto had decided to establish himself in the Sierre Wilderness—and still owed him a colossal sum—the gold dragon's stubborn nature and grand ambitions would surely lead him to countless troubles and challenges as he carved out his territory and built his order.
First, become allies. Establish a connection.
In the future, there might be an opportunity to gradually bring him under my control, achieving true mastery.
Subduing a few naive, weak young dragons and juvenile dragons was nothing.
To make this arrogant, stubborn, and ambitious young gold dragon slowly lower his noble head, become obedient and loyal, and finally be willing to serve him—that was the kind of achievement that would truly bring a dragon pleasure.
After hearing the red-iron dragon's words, Alberto nodded heavily without much hesitation. "A good suggestion. I am very interested."
He gazed directly into the red-iron dragon's eyes and said, "Garos, I can also feel your dominating ambition. As allies, I am happy to fight side-by-side with a kindred spirit."
He paused, then continued in a deep voice:
"When the dust settles on the Sierre Wilderness, when the chaos is ended, and when only the 'Dual Kings' remain standing on this land—when you and I inevitably stand on opposite sides and become each other's sole competitors."
He lifted his head slightly, his dragon might unconsciously spreading out. "I will... go all out! As the highest respect for you, my powerful rival!"
The Dual Kings remained as confident as ever.
Garos had never dreamed of ruling the entire Sierre Wilderness—the land was too vast, too chaotic, and involved too many factions.
His goal was to seize the most lucrative and vital pieces of this massive cake while the chaos reigned.
However.
If the opportunity ever arose in the future to bring the entire wilderness under his control... he, Garos, would never let it slip away.
The Red-Iron Dragon silently suppressed these thoughts, his expression remaining composed. Unlike Alberto, who wore his thoughts on his sleeve, Garos kept his intentions hidden.
"So, a pleasant cooperation?"
"A pleasant cooperation!"
Their agreement was merely verbal, but Holy Dragons were known to keep their word. As for Garos, he would stake his evil dragon bloodline on the fact that he would not easily break this promise.
With their temporary alliance—one forged in self-interest and mutual recognition—firmly established, Alberto's tense spirit finally relaxed completely.
He settled back onto the stone platform, grabbing another piece of food and stuffing it into his mouth.
A strange transformation had occurred. The roasted meat seemed to have been imbued with a soul; its charred aroma bloomed on his tongue, and its juices were rich and plentiful. The chilled liquor sliding down his throat no longer burned but brought a pleasant, intoxicating buzz.
The food finally tasted as it should, no longer a tasteless burden to chew.
Hum—!
Suddenly, a brilliant arcane aura erupted from Alberto's massive dragon body. Under the astonished gazes of the other dragons, his colossal form rapidly shrank and transformed.
As the light faded, a human male adventurer stood elegantly upon the stone platform. He was tall and poised, with golden hair that curled like sunlight, a face as handsome as a classical sculpture, and a smile of boundless warmth and radiance. This was Alberto's human form.
The human and dragon forms seemed to possess two entirely different souls, their temperaments and demeanors worlds apart.
The majesty, paranoia, and oppressive weight of his dragon form had vanished without a trace. In its place was a near-pure, sun-like enthusiasm and carefree spirit.
"Such exquisite food and mellow wine..."
The human Alberto lifted his glass, admiring the liquid within—which wasn't particularly clear—and spoke in a light, infectious tone. "They deserve to be savored slowly and thoroughly, so as not to waste their value... or the chef's hard work."
He raised an eyebrow, his expression one of focused enjoyment as he began to savor the meal and wine the attendants had served.
After a few glasses of strong liquor, a faint flush crept onto Alberto's cheeks, and his eyes grew brighter and more unrestrained.
He set down his glass and turned to Garos, his demeanor uninhibited. "Garos, you are the first... the first of my kind to so directly endorse my ideals!"
He spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the entire hall. "This recognition, this... understanding! It fills me with unparalleled excitement and gratitude!"
He was visibly thrilled. "Allow me... to perform a song and dance here, to express my indescribable joy!"
Before the words had even fully left his lips, Alberto had already drawn his harp—which emitted a faint, woody fragrance—from behind his waist.
Then, under the astonished and even bewildered gazes of the other dragons—Garos's slight surprise, Samantha's confused frown, Treacy's curious head tilt, and Solgorn's impassive stare—the "adventurer" leaped lightly into the center of the hall, accompanied by the melodious chords he plucked from his harp.
His long, lithe frame began to move. His dance was at times as ethereal and graceful as a forest elf's, at others as elegant and fluid as a human courtly dance, and it even incorporated the raw, primal vitality of a serpentman dancer's rhythm. His movements were so professional, his posture so graceful, and his emotion so deeply invested... that the serpent women who had been performing beside him were instantly eclipsed. They stopped their dance, utterly bewildered.
"Hey! Who would care to join me for a dance in this wonderful moment?"
Alberto spun and leaped, extending a passionate invitation to the dragons all around him.
Naturally, no dragon responded.
Yet, Alberto's enthusiasm did not wane in the slightest.
He seemed completely immersed in the ultimate joy brought by the music, the dance, and his own self-expression.
The music grew more melodious and clear, his dance steps more free and unrestrained, and his face beamed with a pure, heartfelt smile.
It was as if... he had completely forgotten his noble status as a majestic gold dragon, and utterly ignored the fact that he was in the heart of a fortress surrounded by a pack of powerful evil dragons.
"This gold dragon..."
The fairy dragon, perched by Garos's massive ear to watch the spectacle, couldn't resist poking the red-iron dragon's scales with its tiny claws. It murmured in a soft, confused voice that only Garos could hear, "Is he a little... um... schizophrenic here?" It tapped its own small head with a claw.
Garos froze for a moment, then a low, raspy chuckle rumbled in his throat.
Schizophrenic?
Perhaps.
According to the vague records and descriptions passed down through their bloodline, nearly all gold dragons possessed a bit of this trait in their bones.
Otherwise, how could they switch between different personas so seamlessly and flawlessly, as if they possessed multiple, completely distinct souls?
Thinking more deeply...
Garos's vertical pupils reflected the golden figure singing and dancing in the center of the hall, and a flicker of understanding crossed his mind.
Perhaps it was precisely because the lives of gold dragons were too simple and smooth, lacking sufficient challenge and turmoil.
That was why they needed to actively seek out different kinds of stimulation and pleasure for their long and somewhat monotonous dragon lives through this near-schizophrenic method of role-playing.
To be so leisurely that you can afford to be schizophrenic... I'm not envious, there's nothing to be envious of, Garos thought, steadying his mind.
(End of the Chapter)
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