Chapter 78

Along the marginal waters of Grayleaf Island, a bizarre and perilous scene unfolded.

A massive black reef, resembling the spine of a sea monster rising from the waves, had become a leisure ground for this group of dragons. To move freely, they all maintained their noble dragon-human forms—humanoid bodies covered in their kind’s scales, long tails trailing behind, heads still bearing unmistakable dragon features.

This hybrid of dragon and human or orc was once a despised species, typically forced to join evil factions. Though nearly identical to the dragonkin created by metallic dragons, their treatment was worlds apart.

But the chromatic dragons welcomed such beings wholeheartedly: they could fight, possessed intelligence, and could disguise themselves as dragonfolk when direct involvement was inconvenient—like entering planar cities, where they could intimidate hostile parties without triggering guards’ suspicions of robbery.

At the reef’s edge, the atmosphere was focused and tense. The protagonist Sakavi sat centered, gripping a fishing rod carved from a single ironwood tree, as thick as a cable. His black scales remained utterly still against the salty sea breeze. His sharp gaze fixed on the deep sea, as if inspecting his own domain.

Beside him, a white dragonfolk fidgeted restlessly, slapping the water with his frost-covered claws, trying to freeze a patch of sea to drive the fish out—until Sakavi silenced him with a cold glance.

The bronze dragonfolk employed a more skillful approach, manipulating subtle currents to form enticing vortices around the hook, murmuring softly as if mimicking the cries of sea beasts.

The green dragonfolk wore a sly smile as he smeared strange-smelling viscous fluid onto the hook as bait. Though his mind had been damaged during the Dragon Legacy transmission, after Sakavi wiped all his memories, he still retained the green dragon’s cunning.

At Agryc’s Dragon Beast Academy, each dragon beast had different problems. Some, like Krasuna, had received no Dragon Legacy at all due to unknown reasons, their souls and brains undamaged. Others had their souls overwhelmed by the torrent of information, leaving their minds chaotic and incapable of thought.

The most severe cases involved irreversible brain trauma. Though rare, these were the most troubling. Sakavi’s solution: replace the damaged brain with one identical to the Black Dragon’s Wings, paired with the original soul. Though the ceiling was lower, with enough effort, there was still a chance to become a Legendary-tier powerhouse.

Take the black dragonfolk to Sakavi’s left—he was usually silent, and now merely gripped the fishing rod with pure brute strength, as if ready to haul up any catch by force alone.

This black dragon beast, named Karava, functioned like a machine programmed with fixed routines—spending his days solely on experiments and spell practice, devoid of joy, sorrow, anger, or any mischief with companions. Yet his power rose swiftly, making him one of the first Master-tier dragon beast mages.

The green dragonfolk’s fishing line suddenly tightened with a grating screech; the immense force beneath bent the rod into a full bow. She remained calm, refusing to match brute strength. Instead, she smoothly turned the rod and began the refined technique of “tiring the fish”—sometimes releasing tension to let the underwater beast charge, sometimes pulling sideways to force it into exhausting circular arcs.

After several rounds of struggle, she sensed the exact moment of its exhaustion, then surged with her waist and abdomen, hurling both arms upward! With a thunderous splash, a massive shark was flung clear from the water and slammed onto the reef, its fearsome jaws still clamped onto half a bloodied, mangled walrus.

“See that? On this sea, I, Gresha, am the true hunter! Who dares disagree? Step forward!”

“Ha! Look at the efficiency!” chuckled the blue dragonfolk Vex, his fingertips crackling with electric sparks like dancing sprites. “Waiting around like you do? That’s primitive.” With a casual flick, a brilliant lightning serpent struck the squid on the stone slab, instantly roasting a large chunk of squid meat to fragrant crispness. “This is how a true master does it—an elegant, efficient art.”

The red dragonfolk impatiently blasted a precise, elongated flame at the giant squid mounted on the boulder. Its tentacles curled and darkened under the heat, releasing a peculiar aroma of charred fish and salt. As he fired, he sneered: “You bunch of bumpkins! This thing only turns tender when the outside is properly charred!”

…………

The “dragonfolk,” now full and relaxed, sprawled lazily on the reef, basking in the rare afternoon sun. But the sudden arrival of an “uninvited guest” shattered the peace like a boulder dropped into still water. The news she brought erased Sakavi’s leisurely expression; his vacation mood vanished instantly.

“You still have the nerve to sunbathe here? Sakavi, your assistant Grap is dying—suffering on his sickbed for months! Are you truly unwilling to return and see him one last time?”

“Huh? When I left, he was fine! I didn’t even know he was sick! How did he suddenly collapse, Verna? Are you lying to lure me back for some advantage—or just to prank me?”

“Why would I lie? Morax just sent word—I traveled all this way to tell you. If you don’t want to go, fine. I’m going back anyway.” With that, she walked off without looking back.

…………

“Master, my life has reached its end. Only one matter weighs heavily on me… I can no longer follow you to witness the rise of that great realm. Please remember: this land is but a corner. True strength lies afar. Step out. Plant your name and banners across the multiverse I never saw.”

“My time is short. I must confess something… I halted all maritime trade, exchanging our entire treasury for grain. I built a fortress in the salt marshes, transported fisherfolk’s salt to the Ironhoof Plateau, and erected hundreds of granaries there.”

“Demons are coming. I beg you… do not retreat. Only by holding firm can we earn a share in the coming War of the Abyss, only then can we speak of a future beyond. I know… you hate others making decisions for you. Forgive me. This is the last time.”

“When I came, I saw everything along the way… I understand your painstaking efforts.” His voice was low and resolute.

“Rest assured. I will not flee again, as I once abandoned the Great Swamp. This time, I stand with the people of the Duchy. I swear to defend this order you spent twenty years building. Whether demons or the Abyss itself comes, I will not disappoint you.”

“And please… wait a little longer. I am going to invite your teacher, Virensa. Once, she despised my stubbornness, loathed my retreat, and raged that I led you down a path with no return. But now, she must witness it herself.”

“Your devoted student, on this grander stage, has delivered a report worthy of her pride. You protected the peace of all living things. Your order is unbreakable. You remain the druid who upheld her will, revered by all.”

“Old man, just rest easy,” Verna sat beside his bed, forcing a light tone. “I’ve got things under control out there. Why push yourself so hard when you’re too old to walk?

You could’ve enjoyed a few more peaceful years… now you’ve drained your last strength. Are you satisfied?” She sighed, gazing at the old man’s peaceful face, adding softly, “...Now, at last, you can rest properly.”

"Ha. We've worked together for years. I know exactly what kind of person you are." He smiled faintly, understanding. "You've never shown this much passion before. I heard you once took dragon beasts out without permission, leaving the Duchy's elite forces unguarded. I've heard the rumors, you know."

“Grap! You old toad!” she snarled, “If you weren’t like this… I’d drag you up and beat you! How dare you bring that up? It’s enough to drive me mad!”

“Enough, both of you. Leave him some breath. Krasuna is already on her way to fetch Virensa. If he doesn’t make it, that Thorn Deer will come after me—she’s already got it out for me.”

“Master, if I die, let me rest forever in the winds of the Ironhoof Plateau. The Great Swamp… I have no path back. Only by leaving it did I truly live. And please… do not bind my soul with the lich’s chains. Let this decaying body rest in peace.”

“Also, I’ve stockpiled sixty million tons of wheat, one hundred thousand tons of iron ingots, three million tons of coal, and two million tons of salt. I know every faction joining this feast hopes we die in this war. These supplies will sustain us for fifty years. This is all I can do.”

“Let me confirm: under your brilliant planning, my treasury is now inhabited only by rats, correct?” He stared at him fiercely. “Pray my beloved Golden Disc remains intact. Otherwise, I’ll be the first dragon in history to go bankrupt due to a subordinate’s mismanagement—and I’ll have the ‘honor’ of sleeping on a stone floor as a black lizard!”

“Oh, dear Sakavi, stop worrying about your floor,” Verna chuckled, mocking tone thick in her voice. “Your gilded wall panels and gemstone ceiling have long been torn down and sold. Aside from your useless experimental gear, you’re truly penniless now—not even a patterned stone slab remains. But cheer up: everyone’s in the same boat.”

“Sakavi? That name is already bankrupt.” He waved a claw dismissively, voice laced with cynicism. “A dragon reduced to sleeping in the wild can’t bear such a grand title. Until I think of a name worthy of my current… uh, financial state, just call me ‘The Poorest Lord in History.’”

“Oh come now, don’t look so downcast,” Verna brightened, conjuring a gold coin between her fingers and waving it triumphantly. “Look, I’ve got one last treasure. I could lend it to you, out of kindness… but interest will be charged according to dragon tradition, of course.”