On the slightly swaying deck, the captain cleared his throat and said, "The changes are truly significant... as if they happened overnight! Those notorious monsters and alien races in The Borderlands have become... well, how should I put it, polite."
"Different races have begun to cooperate in an unprecedented way."
"They have taken the initiative to trade with us merchants traveling along the Estonia Great River, exchanging local minerals and furs for food and daily necessities."
"Many people don't understand the reason, assuming those monsters have suddenly enlightened, or that the sun has risen from the west."
The captain looked cautiously to the left and right, confirming that no other crew members were too close, before lowering his voice slightly and saying with a touch of mystery, "But I happened to hear some insider news from some old friends who travel far and wide..."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower: "It is said that this land of Chaos, located where the edge of the Serel Wilderness meets the Permafrost Tundra, has finally given birth to a... the one and only, true 'King of the Borderlands' after countless years of bloody strife."
"It is this mysterious King who has brought unprecedented order to this lawless land! He set the rules and used iron-fisted methods to restrain those lawless monster minions."
"Few have seen his true face, but his prestige and influence are everywhere. You can even see that even the most cunning and greedy goblins, accustomed to extortion, now dare not demand an extra copper coin from passing merchants."
"It can be said that all intelligent creatures in The Borderlands now, regardless of strength, live under the huge shadow of this 'King,' following the rules he set."
"Oh? That impressive?"
Alberto raised an eyebrow, a playful expression on his face, and exclaimed in wonder, "Then what is the background of this 'King of the Borderlands' you speak of? Is he a once-in-a-millennium hero born among the goblins? A powerhouse among humans? Or... did the Iron Hoof of those Centaur tribes trample The Borderlands flat?"
The captain shook his head vigorously, his expression becoming exceptionally serious and earnest.
"None of those. Regarding the specific identity of that 'King,' there are many opinions and much fog, but the most widely circulated and accepted theory is..."
He took a deep breath and said word for word, "The one who rules this dangerous land is not a mortal race, but a noble, kind, and unimaginably powerful... Metallic Dragon, and moreover, it is the head of the Metallic Dragons, the most noble and powerful... Golden Dragon."
After a second of silence.
"Pfft... Hahaha! A... Golden Dragon?!"
Hearing this answer, Alberto felt as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world; he could no longer hold it in and burst into hearty laughter.
Just as he was laughing loudly, the captain standing beside him stiffened, and an unspeakable, cold, trembling sensation originating from the depths of his Soul swept over his entire body without warning.
But this feeling came quickly and left even faster; in just a momentary trance, that suffocating sense of fear receded like a tide.
It was as if everything that had just happened was merely an illusion caused by his own excessive nervousness.
(That was close... I almost couldn't hold it together, the maintenance of my Polymorph even fluctuated...)
Alberto restrained his smile, his handsome face returning to that sunny calmness, but deep in his eyes, a trace of imperceptible light, mixed with absurdity and cold mockery, flashed by.
"The King of the Borderlands is a Golden Dragon... where exactly did you hear this interesting theory?"
Alberto narrowed his eyes calmly, maintaining a polite smile on his face, and asked the captain in a calm tone.
"Eh, I just heard it while chatting with other captains and fellows."
The captain responded in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he thought this idea was perfectly natural.
"Many people discuss it privately. Just think about it: being able to restrain those lawless, vicious monster minions in The Borderlands, and making creatures of different races cooperate and trade in an orderly manner—these two points alone are enough to prove the case."
He stretched out his rough fingers and gestured in the air: "First of all, this King of the Borderlands, he certainly isn't an Evil Dragon from the evil alignment, right? Evil Dragons don't have the patience or kindness to maintain order."
"Secondly."
The captain's voice lowered a bit, with a hint of sharing a secret: "I heard a theory."
"Most Metallic Dragons actually prefer to maintain the existing order and are not very willing to go to the trouble of 'creating' a whole new set of rules. Only the most noble and responsible Golden Dragons would bother to painstakingly build an orderly system from scratch."
The smile on Alberto's face remained bright, but a trace of imperceptible strangeness flashed deep in his eyes, and he fell into a brief silence.
"Not an Evil Dragon? Then why, before I have even truly set foot in The Borderlands, have I already smelled the thick scent of evil coming with the wind?"
"Besides... only Golden Dragons are willing to painstakingly create order?"
"What a... naive perception."
"Have you ever been a Golden Dragon? Do you understand the true thoughts of a Golden Dragon? Except for myself... I have never heard of any Golden Dragon kin who would enjoy the troublesome task of creating order."
An imperceptible golden light flowed quietly in the depths of the adventurer's pupils.
The surface of Alberto's inner lake was calm and waveless, but inside, a calm and sharp storm of thoughts was surging.
Without a doubt, the identity of an "adventurer" was merely a disguise he had carefully constructed; his true identity was, in fact, a Dragon! And, it was precisely the one the captain spoke of—the head of the Metallic Dragons, a Golden Dragon!
Admittedly, the Golden Dragon race is naturally inclined towards order and justice.
However, the vast majority of adult Golden Dragons have long formed deeply ingrained codes of conduct and thinking patterns.
They generally believe:
Acts of justice must be carefully considered, with all potential consequences weighed, ensuring that the "cure" does not cause more harm than the "disease" itself.
Injustices in the world are countless, and no existence can personally correct every wrong.
Rather than doing everything personally and overstepping their bounds, it is better to encourage intelligent creatures to rely on their own strength to solve problems within their capabilities.
Only those truly huge, complex "tribulations" that only a Golden Dragon's own strength and wisdom can handle are worth their full effort.
But compared to those Golden Dragon kin.
Alberto Aurelius is an outlier.
From the Wyrmling stage when he broke out of his shell, he was regarded by his parents as a stubborn, incorrigible "contrarian."
He possessed a strong sense of autonomy far beyond his peers of the same race, as well as a nearly paranoid perception.
Justice and order are by no means gifts that can fall from the sky by waiting; they are ultimate goals that need to be "created" and "shaped" by one's own hands with absolute power and supreme wisdom!
Other races, and even the vast majority of Dragonkin, do not possess such a noble Bloodline and wisdom to discern the essence of things as he does.
Rather than letting them make mistakes in ignorant Chaos, it is better to place them under a perfect order framework he has carefully designed for "control," to prevent them from doing irreparable stupid things.
Based on the above thoughts, he has a grand and radical ultimate dream.
Through ruthless conquest and absolute rule, to unify all fragmented countries, races, and factions across the entire continent and even the multiverse into a supreme centralized regime! Thereby, completely eradicating the soil where "evil" breeds and establishing an eternal, perfect golden order.
Now, the timing, geographical advantages, and human cooperation all seem to be on his side.
Powerful adult Metallic Dragons have almost all been urgently summoned away by their respective Dragon Domains, busy dealing with some higher-level crisis, and have no time to pay attention to this "rebellious" Young Adult Dragon. The seeds of civil strife in the Lothern Federation, composed of the southern human nations, have already taken root, and a storm is coming.
The perfect opportunity to punish the wicked, eradicate evil, and begin his great journey of conquest is right before his eyes.
After careful intelligence gathering and strategic deduction, the young Golden Dragon Alberto locked onto his first strategic target—The Borderlands, located between the Serel Wilderness and the Permafrost Tundra, guarding the throat of the Estonia Great River.
The terrain here is complex, connecting the wilderness and civilization, and it can serve as an excellent lever and forward base to pry open the situation of the entire continent.
However... plans can never keep up with changes.
He had not expected that this virgin land he had carefully selected had actually been preempted by a mysterious "King"! What's even more absurd is that the rumor says this "King's" identity is... a Golden Dragon of the same origin as him?
"Interesting..."
(I'd like to see for myself, what kind of 'peer' it is, and by what method, that could rule this chaotic Borderlands one step ahead of me?)
Alberto's heart surged with curiosity and competitiveness, but on the surface, he still maintained the harmless and friendly posture of an adventurer, continuing his casual chat with the captain about local customs and trade goods.
Time flowed by, unhurried, just like the waters of the Estonia Great River flowing beneath his feet.
The merchant ship sailed steadily, the landscape on both banks changing quietly, signs of artificial excavation gradually increasing, and the scent in the air, a mixture of sulfur, metal, and powerful Dragon might, becoming increasingly clear and distinguishable.
The Borderlands were already close at hand.