Chapter 31: Unforeseen Disaster

All alchemical gear on its body was stripped away; the Copper Dragon’s head spun, its neck aching fiercely, and at last it snapped out of the hypnotic state.

It raised its claw and slapped and pounded at Garos’s right shoulder.

The blows sounded dull and heavy.

Then sparks flew as claw tip met scale, producing a grating, teeth-on-edge sound like metal scraping metal.

The Copper Dragon felt as if it had struck a thousand-fold hammered iron felt—its claw stung from the recoil, yet it could only leave faint marks on the other’s scales, unable to tear or draw blood.

Due to prior training, Garos now had no cushioning scales.

Dark scales, forged like steel and iron, shimmered with a faint silvery matte sheen, their crimson patterns interwoven and glowing like flowing magma, far harder than normal dragon scales.

“So hard are your scales!”

The Copper Dragon opened its mouth and spat a gelatinous stream of acidic breath—but Garos had already pulled back, evading the acid.

Only then.

With a moment to breathe, the Copper Dragon realized something was missing from its body.

It turned its head—its Flamewing Circlets were gone from its wings; it looked down—its Watcher’s Necklace had vanished from its neck; it flicked its tongue inside its mouth—no trace of the Silver Frost Ring.

The scales along its neck felt hollow.

It reached out a claw, touched its inner scales—and gasped: nearly all its gems and coins hidden beneath them were gone.

At the same time, it noticed glinting objects nestled in the fine scale seams along Garos’s wings—weren’t those its own gems and coins?

The Flamewing Circlets, the Silver Frost Ring, the Watcher’s Necklace—all clutched in one of Garos’s claws.

“Ah, damn you, evil dragon! Give back my gems, give back my coins, give back my alchemical gear!”

The Copper Dragon shrieked.

To have treasure and gear stolen before one’s eyes—no normal dragon could remain calm or rational.

It flapped its wings and flew toward Garos.

The Copper Dragon, enraged, bared its fangs and claws.

But rage did not enhance its power—it only exposed more openings in its movements.

Garos tilted his body, sidestepped the enraged charge, and seized the Copper Dragon’s tail with both claws, gripping it like iron tongs.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Each dragon scale on his arm locked tightly together; powerful muscles beneath swelled, unleashing immense, crushing force.

“You—”

Before the Copper Dragon could finish its cry, its body was yanked into a long, spinning arc—rotated several times in midair—then hurled violently to the ground.

Crash!

Accompanied by a deafening roar.

Shattered rocks and dust erupted; the ground cracked open into a massive, deep pit, fissures spreading in all directions.

“Pah!”

The Copper Dragon spat out broken stones, rose from the pit, its entire body throbbing with pain from skin to bone.

Yet even so.

This Copper Dragon felt no fear.

Instead, it flapped its wings to clear the dust and soared upward again, charging Garos with the intent to fight to the death.

“Evil red iron dragon! Return my things, or I’ll never let you live!”

The Copper Dragon roared.

Dragons possess formidable physiques and vigorous lifeforce; the injuries it had suffered were far from grave. Unless the gap was immense, and unless the dragon was blood-mad and fought to the last, killing a dragon was exceedingly difficult.

Yet even so, it was recklessly foolish.

As if it had some hidden confidence.

Garos’s eyes flickered; he did not press his advantage, but began to retreat.

“I’ve taken enough gems, coins, and alchemical gear. Metal dragons are all rich—there’s no telling what survival tricks they might still hold.”

He thought.

Sure enough, on a scale over the Copper Dragon’s chest, a silver rune appeared—not an alchemical symbol, but a spell etched directly into the scale like a scroll.

—This was the ultimate survival technique metal dragon parents bestowed upon their young.

If the metal dragon parents were powerful enough,

Even a juvenile could unleash legendary-level power from this scale-spell.

No one could predict what kind of counterattack a juvenile metal dragon might unleash in desperation.

Garos instinctively sensed danger.

“Why am I not a metal dragon?”

He sighed inwardly.

To say he wasn’t envious would be a lie.

Metal dragons’ adventures were just adventures—they carried survival spells like toys, traveling the world for amusement, not survival, to make dragonhood less dull.

Evil dragons fought for tomorrow with their lives.

The key was, Garos didn’t even consider himself an evil dragon—his goal was simple: live longer.

But this world was too dangerous, and it was unfriendly toward him.

Just look.

Garos had been happily training, bothering no one—yet the Copper Dragon, the moment it saw him, screamed “evil red iron hybrid!” and charged straight at him.

Even if you’re not an evil dragon, you’re forced to become one.

Garos exhaled slowly, quieting his thoughts.

Treasure and alchemical gear were already in hand; no need to risk more.

He didn’t know what level of power the survival scale-spell contained—attempting to kill a metal dragon brought far greater danger than any potential gain.

Garos swiftly weighed his options and prepared to disengage and retreat.

He flapped his wings.

He retreated at high speed, instantly widening the distance between himself and the Copper Dragon—vanishing in a blur.

The Copper Dragon chased for a few seconds, then stopped, grinding its teeth—it couldn’t catch him.

“Evil red iron hybrid! Don’t let me catch you, or I’ll make you lick my claws every day to atone for your evil deeds!”

It roared in fury.

At the same time, before its figure vanished entirely, Garos’s voice drifted from the wind.

“It’s question time.”

“What’s flying up there, about to cry for its mommy?”

The Copper Dragon froze, then realized—its scales were visibly brightening in hue.

It was burning red.

It exploded in rage, but had no recourse—its gaze locked onto the King of Insects, perched at the bottom of the abandoned mine, watching the two dragons fight.

“Damn you, filthy insect! What are you staring at!”

The Copper Dragon growled, folded its wings, and dove toward the King of Insects.

It had suffered from ignorance of dragonkind.

The King of Insects opened its jaws and lunged to bite.

Simultaneously, the silver rune on the Copper Dragon’s chest blazed fully.

—This survival scale-spell activated only when life was threatened.

The air temperature plummeted—suddenly from summer heat to winter’s bitter cold.

Countless ice blades materialized around the Copper Dragon, swirling endlessly, then surged toward the King of Insects like a storm of hail—too fast for the insect to react.

Pfft! Pfft!

Each ice blade pierced its mouth, effortlessly slicing through its carapace, bursting out the other side, carving the King of Insects into a thousand wounds, riddled with holes, instantly crippled.

Gurgling gurgling… it emitted strange sounds.

In agony, the King of Insects panicked, turned, and fled—dashing into the mine shaft, dragging its mangled body deep underground.

Failing to kill the King of Insects with one blow only enraged the Copper Dragon further; it circled above the abandoned mine, flapping its wings to unleash a storm of ice blades, scouring the entire pit below into utter ruin.

(End of Chapter)