Chapter 35: I, Garos, Am Truly No Evil Dragon

The blazing sun baked the Iron Fir Hills into charred brown, the cracked earth steaming with warped heatwaves.

A red hatchling lay sprawled on gravel, tongue lolling, embers of its breath drifting from its jaws and bursting into tiny sparks in the air; Mober was rubbing its back against the rough, hard bark of iron firs, leaves rustling down.

Garos was staring at the earth spider emerging from a fissure before him.

Its body was like a grinding stone, covered in stony textures; eight slender, sharp limbs clung with soil soaked black; on its back, a deliberately sunken rock carapace held large chunks of black soil.

It sniffed the air.

A searing sensation shot straight into its nostrils.

Garos’s eyes lit up; he lunged forward in one stride, his body casting a thick shadow that swallowed the earth spider whole.

“The smell of black oil!”

He looked down at the trembling black spider beneath him, his gaze fixing on the black soil on its back, then reached out with his claw to lift it.

As soon as he touched it.

A slick, greasy sensation arose.

Garos squeezed it, and slowly, black oil seeped from between his claws.

These were soils saturated with black oil—though not direct oil, still a success; Garos was highly satisfied with the earth spider’s haul.

But.

Why did it bring back only oil-soaked soil, and not the oil itself?

Carrying this question, Garos used his Mindlink skill to enter the earth spider’s mental world.

The earth spider’s mental world was equally dark, like the Rock Crumb Worm’s—a suffocating, subterranean realm.

“Why didn’t you bring back the black oil directly?”

In the mental world, Garos asked.

The earth spider replied: “Danger. Death. Fear.”

Its intelligence was lower than the Rock Crumb Worm’s; its answers were fragmented, but Garos grasped its general meaning.

“The place storing black oil is extremely dangerous—it would kill it—so it dared not approach, only dug up soil around the edges soaked with oil.”

Garos pondered.

This was expected; he wasn’t surprised.

The intelligent beings guarding the black oil field would certainly not just defend against ground and sky—they’d have countermeasures underground too.

He carefully observed the earth spider’s flickering memories.

Through its eyes, Garos saw several earth spiders crawling through darkness below, the surrounding soil growing darker, oil content increasing.

Suddenly.

A massive, centipede-like creature appeared.

Its entire body was forged from some black metal, composed of dozens of steel-segmented limbs, each segment marked with You blue energy patterns; at each joint extended pairs of auxiliary limbs, constantly contracting and extending like folding battle blades.

The moment it appeared, it began hunting the earth spiders.

The first few were torn to shreds in under a minute; then it patrolled the underground once more, but did not attack the earth spiders at a distance.

“Some kind of alchemical golem guarding underground? Based on size and behavior, at least Level 5 or 6—the earth spiders couldn’t fight it head-on.”

Garos thought silently.

Clearly, this was no natural life—it was a man-made underground guardian, designed to eliminate any creature approaching the oil field from below.

“At least bringing back oil-soaked soil is better than nothing.”

Garos transmitted encouraging emotions, urging the earth spider to keep going.

The earth spider sent back excited mental waves, its will becoming restless, its body glowing red: “Exchange. Promise.”

You little brat, you’re awfully impatient.

But my original promise was: bring back black oil, and only then will you get the reward—this oil-soaked soil doesn’t qualify.

Garos pondered for a few seconds, then exited the earth spider’s mental world and brought over the mother spider he’d been feeding well.

The male earth spider instantly rushed forward, waving its limbs excitedly, and the mother spider, in breeding season, accepted without resistance.

Garos watched curiously.

They had no shame—right under the sun, with a dragon watching—right there they began making the next generation.

But their mating method was utterly unlike any other creature’s.

The male waved his limbs, inserting his fine left pedipalp into the left opening of the female’s genital plate, and his right limb into the right opening—it looked like murder, the process grotesque.

Just as the male was about to finish.

Garos moved swiftly, reaching out with his claw and yanking him off the female.

—You didn’t meet the original requirement, so you only get half the breeding opportunity.

“Ten kilograms of oil-soaked soil—for one full breeding opportunity.”

Garos conveyed his demand to the struggling, furious male.

You’re not a dragon if you don’t act like one!

Held aloft, the male flailed his limbs in protest, but eventually submitted, then hurriedly burrowed through the surface to dig more oil-soaked soil for Garos.

The female stared blankly, looking up at Garos.

Why did you drive the male away?

She didn’t understand.

Crack—another crack opened in the ground, bulging upward; another male earth spider emerged, also carrying oil-soaked soil, rushing to Garos for reward.

Garos grinned and beckoned it over.

One after another, male earth spiders returned with black oil-soaked soil, eager for reward.

Garos was generous—he gave them half the reward despite their failure to meet the original terms, snatching them away mid-coitus.

A group of red-hot males came rushing in, left fuming.

They burrowed furiously underground, venting their frustration, more desperate than ever to dig up black oil-soaked soil for the full breeding opportunity.

“Poor spiders—Garos, you’re so cruel.”

Samantha shifted tone, praising: “No wonder you’re an outstanding Iron-Red hybrid dragon—your innate evil is beyond my reach.”

To red dragons,

evil meant excellence, meant honor—all red dragons aimed to become ultimate evil dragons.

To Samantha, Garos, who bullied even spiders, was dripping with malice, irredeemably wicked.

“Don’t slander me.”

Garos protested: “I’m just pushing them to work harder—how is that evil?”

He never considered himself an evil dragon.

He didn’t think he was a good dragon who helped the weak and punished evil, but surely he wasn’t evil either?

Evil dragons were constantly hunted and besieged—he didn’t want to be seen as one.

But looking at his own appearance, Garos had no reply.

His form—a fusion of Iron Dragon and Red Dragon, further evolved—was more grotesque than conventional evil dragons.

If a powerful adventurer came by, they wouldn’t listen to his explanations.

【Innately Evil Iron-Red Hybrid Dragon!】

【Oh? Still making excuses!】

【Take it up with my Holy Smite!】

This was the outcome nine times out of ten.

“Prejudice in men’s hearts is a mountain—I, Garos, am truly no evil dragon.”

He sighed inwardly and shook his head.

It was too late now—he had to find a way to strengthen himself; if he ever faced a crusade, he’d at least have the power to fight back.

(End of Chapter)