Dragon Valley, on that training ground rammed hard as iron.
"White... powerful Pale Wing! These training methods... are simply too harsh."
Black Dragon Serafina felt her muscles groaning under the unbearable strain, and finally could not help but voice a painful protest to the supervisor, White Dragon Tereshi.
"Harsh?!"
White Dragon Tereshi scoffed, her dragon eyes filled with disdain: "Compared to the tempering that the Lord of Molten Iron endures every day, your pathetic training intensity isn't even a drop in the bucket."
The surrounding small dragons—Red Dragon Cahill, Blue Dragon Heriam, Green Dragon Ludwig—including the Black Dragon, couldn't help but show expressions of doubt, clearly skeptical of Tereshi's words.
But just then.
Whoosh—!
A sudden violent gust of wind swept past, accompanied by a clear tremor from the ground, as a figure like a burning meteorite swooped out from the Burning Steel Fortress, carrying a suffocating pressure, and landed precisely in the center of the super-gravity field used for extreme training not far away.
"Look at the eyes of you lazy bones; I read doubt."
Tereshi raised her head, looking with burning gaze at that strong, magnificent Red-Iron Dragon body radiating heat and the scent of metal, and said: "Then watch closely! Open your eyes and see clearly how our Lord of Molten Iron tempers himself! Soon, you will understand that what you should envy most is not the powerful strength he possesses now, but that will—more stubborn than the hardest steel and more dazzling than the sun in the sky!"
Hearing this, the few small dragons couldn't help but cast their slightly skeptical gazes toward the super-gravity field.
At the same time.
The Red-Iron Dragon Garros flapped his wings violently, his massive body instantly lifting off the ground, followed by a clean, sharp inversion, adjusting his body to a vertical, upside-down posture while decisively folding his thick wings.
When his upside-down, ferocious dragon head was less than a meter from the ground.
Whoosh—
Two thick, massive wings suddenly fully expanded like war banners.
The violent airflow, carrying flying sand and stones, expanded rapidly in a radial pattern! The powerful wind pressure made it almost impossible for the watching small dragons in the distance to open their eyes.
When their vision struggled to penetrate the swirling sand and dust, and they finally saw the Red-Iron Dragon's current movements, all their breathing involuntarily hitched.
Shocking!
The Red-Iron Dragon's body, heavy as a mountain, was now in an incredible handstand posture, relying solely on his wing bones to support his terrifying weight, standing steadily on the solid ground.
Every fold on those tough wing membranes seemed to be bearing incomparable pressure, trembling slightly; the knotted muscles at the junction of the dragon wings and the majestic torso made teeth-aching "clucking" sounds of tension, as if countless steel wires stretched to their limit were groaning.
Under the increasingly shocked, almost frozen gaze of the small dragons.
The Red-Iron Dragon settled steadily, his four strong dragon feet digging deep into the ground, and then he pulled his wings tightly against his broad back, while his thick, powerful tail, like a living giant python, moved flexibly along the curve of his back, eventually hooking the base of his own ferocious dragon horns with its tip.
The entire body, from neck to tail, seemed to form a closed loop.
The next second.
That seemingly clumsy, sluggish, mountain-heavy body erupted with unimaginable resilience and agility, curling up like a spring, with dragon scales violently rubbing and colliding against each other, sparking countless fine embers, and when his dragon snout was almost touching his strong tailbone, the huge dragon body was almost compressed into a sphere.
Bang—!!!
The curled dragon body, like a giant bow pulled to the limit by a Heavenly God and released, generated terrifying ejection force from the muscles connecting head and tail, the body suddenly shot into the sky, burning into an orange-red meteor in the air friction, dragging long smoke as it crashed into the depths of the clouds, and then steadily descended back to the ground.
The scales on his body opened and closed slightly, radiating astonishing high temperatures, clashing fiercely with the cold air, steaming up dense white mist like clouds.
He slowly stood upright, fully extending his giant wings and strong dragon arms.
Freely stretching that ferocious, vicious, strong-to-the-extreme... yet revealing a breathtakingly beautiful, powerful dragon body.
Without the slightest pause or breath, he began a new round of training in the super-gravity training field.
Every movement seemed almost impossible to complete in the eyes of the small dragons, but what was displayed on him was perfect and full of power, shocking the hearts of the onlookers.
"I really want to... experience the feeling of being completely crushed and ravished by such a body..."
White Dragon Tereshi stuck out her scarlet tongue, licking her lower jaw with longing, her gaze locked tightly on Garros, making no effort to hide the rolling, burning covetousness and possessiveness within.
She had coveted Garros for a long time, but she knew well that he would never look upon her relatively "thin and slender" White Dragon body.
Immediately, Tereshi turned her head sharply, transforming the irrepressible heat and slight frustration in her heart into another form of "motivation," her gaze sweeping like a knife toward the small dragons beside her.
"Did you all see that? Now, who else thinks they have reached their limit? Who else dares to complain that their training intensity is too high?!"
White Dragon Tereshi whipped her tail, creating a sound of breaking air, and opened her giant mouth, revealing a smile that was both cruel and excited.
"Now, it's time for your 'anti-beating training'! Line up, one by one, and come wait obediently for my whipping."
Before the words fell, her dragon tail, covered in hard scales, had already whistled out like a steel whip.
"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
Dull and loud whipping sounds rang out in succession, landing precisely on each small dragon, instantly shattering their scales, tearing their skin, and leaving streaks of blood.
However, perhaps stimulated by the inhuman will and powerful body of the Red-Iron Dragon, an unprecedented longing and expectation to become stronger sprouted in the hearts of the small dragons.
Even while enduring the ruthless whipping of the White Dragon, they only bit their sharp teeth, swallowed their painful roars back into their stomachs, and endured silently, with flames of unwillingness and desire burning in their eyes.
Elsewhere.
Garros, who was in the midst of extreme tempering, naturally noticed the commotion of White Dragon Tereshi "training" the small dragons.
But he only glanced at it, with no waves in his dragon eyes, then withdrew his gaze and continued to focus on his own training, without the slightest intention to stop it.
The reason why Dragonkin can stubbornly exist and thrive in many planes and worlds.
Is because they possess extremely strong adaptability to various extreme environments.
Even if other dragons do not possess the Heaven-Defying evolutionary talent of Garros, and their efficiency cannot be compared to his, day-after-day targeted training is definitely of infinite benefit to them.
Strength, speed, defense, endurance... these basic attributes can be significantly improved through persistent tempering.
Surpassing Garros may be an unreachable dream, but surpassing those other lazy kin who only know how to sleep and plunder is definitely a sure thing.
Unfortunately, many Dragonkin are born dominated by a lazy nature, stubbornly believing that as long as they eat, sleep, and wait for time to pass, their strength will naturally grow, thus they extremely lack the precious awareness of self-initiated training.
White Dragon Tereshi herself is an excellent example.
She knew that Garros's strength was inseparable from his day-and-night, almost self-abusive training, and she had tried to imitate his methods.
But that bone-deep pain and monotony soon eroded her enthusiasm, making her unable to persist.
In the end, she simply gave up self-tempering entirely.
After all, for her, inflicting this "harshness" on other dragons was much simpler and more interesting than requiring herself to persist.
From another perspective, having a "dutiful" supervisor and "special training officer" like the White Dragon is actually a good thing that does more good than harm for the growth of these small dragons.
This allows them to master power faster in this crisis-ridden, dog-eat-dog world, and possess the capital for self-preservation and even strength.
At the same time.
The Estonia Great River on the south bank of The Borderlands.
The wide river surface rippled with layers of minute waves under the breeze, shimmering with countless fine golden lights under the afternoon sun, presenting a mesmerizing, sparkling beautiful scenery.
Several deeply drafted merchant ships were sailing unhurriedly with the gentle surging of the water, the bows slowly adjusting their direction, approaching the river channel where The Borderlands was located.
"Young man, I am truly very curious,"
The captain of one of the merchant ships, a weather-beaten middle-aged man, leaned on the railing and looked at the young man standing before him, his tone filled with confusion and a trace of worry.
"Why do you want to go to The Borderlands? That place... in the eyes of most people, is not a safe or friendly destination."
The young man being questioned was named Alberto, looking about twenty years old.
He had fair skin, a face that was almost perfectly handsome, and always wore a bright, infectious smile like sunshine, with dazzling blonde shoulder-length curly hair fluttering lightly in the wind. He was dressed in simple leather armor convenient for movement, with a rolled-up map, a leather water bottle, and a seemingly sharp short blade neatly tucked at his waist—a standard adventurer's attire.
Just a few days ago, when Alberto accidentally heard that this fleet's destination was The Borderlands, he took the initiative to find this captain and politely requested that he be given a ride.
The captain naturally asked him for payment.
Alberto showed a slightly shy and apologetic smile, frankly stating that he was currently short of money.
Logically, without tangible benefits, the captain would never agree to carry a stranger; this was neither in line with the rules of the trade nor devoid of risk.
However.
When he met Alberto's pair of clear, sincere, azure eyes that seemed to contain the stars and the sea, for some reason, he inexplicably nodded and made an exception to agree.
"I heard—"
Alberto showed off his adventurer's attire, his smile still bright, but with a hint of inquiry in his eyes: "—that the current The Borderlands seems a bit different from the chaotic and dangerous rumors of the past."
He paused, his gaze casting toward the riverbank line getting closer and closer ahead, bathed in sunlight.
"As you can see, I am an adventurer full of passion for the unknown, always full of uncontrollable curiosity about those lands that few people visit and that are shrouded in mystery, not to mention... The Borderlands seems to be undergoing some strange changes, which makes it even more worth witnessing with my own eyes."
He changed the subject, asking the captain with just the right amount of thirst for knowledge.
"You seem to be a frequent visitor here, not your first time entering the waters of The Borderlands; do you know why this land has undergone such changes? What power is reshaping the order here?"
Under the gaze of the young man's eyes, which seemed to possess magic, the captain, who was usually reticent and did not like to meddle in other people's business, suddenly felt a strong desire to confide welling up in his heart.