Chapter 62: Serpent Dragon

Night fell like ink soaking the entire sky.

Luo Si and Long Wei darted through the dark clouds, like two lightning bolts tearing through the night.

As the distance between them closed, Long Wei struck first, its slender body lashing out like a whip, the forked tip of its tail burning with ink-green venomous flame.

Luo Si’s body hesitated, his wings lifting high.

The fine scales on his wing membranes rubbed together, spraying dense sparks; the sharp edges of his wings glowed crimson. Then, pivoting around the left wing’s tip, his body spun violently, shifting angle—his wings erupted like a guillotine blade, slashing toward Long Wei.

Facing this Dragon Wing Spin, Long Wei refused to yield.

It turned as well, its thick tail whipping toward Luo Si’s wing.

Clang! Rip!

First, a sharp metallic clash, like blades colliding; then, the sound of a sharp edge tearing through tough dragon scales and flesh.

Luo Si’s spinning wing slash, after meeting slight resistance, severed one of Long Wei’s three forked tails, his wings now smeared with Long Wei’s thick, sticky blood.

“I’ll eat you!”

In pain, Long Wei muttered indistinct dragon speech, its front claws lashing out to slam into Luo Si.

Luo Si tilted slightly, meeting the blow directly with the dense explosive scales on his back.

Boom! The heavy claw strike hit Luo Si’s back scales; the scales shattered while absorbing the kinetic energy, converting it into heat and erupting in blinding flames.

Caught off guard, Long Wei was blasted backward.

“This guy is terrible in direct combat.”

Suddenly, intense pain surged through his wings.

Like countless tiny files grinding his flesh, like countless venomous snakes burrowing into his body—the agony was unparalleled.

“But this poison is as potent as the legacy records describe.”

Even Luo Si, with his tolerance for pain, winced.

Long Wei’s blood on his wings was viscous, not shaken off by the wind, instead clinging to his wings, staining the contact points ink-green.

The fangs, claws, and blood of the serpent dragon were all highly toxic.

Especially its blood—its toxin concentration was the highest.

Luo Si had low poison resistance; his wings were gradually going numb from the poison.

Long Wei charged again.

Compared to Luo Si, its wounds were worse, but its blood-red eyes glowed with madness and excitement, its expression wild with the intent to drag Luo Si down with it—even if it meant dying.

A mad dragon cannot be reasoned with.

Fighting it to the death brings no benefit.

On the contrary, controlled skirmishes with it benefit Luo Si.

“Keep it alive. As long as it stays in the Crescent Valley, let it come here to provoke me—let its venom gradually raise my poison resistance. Tonight, stop here. My poison resistance is still low; absorbing too much venomous blood at once is risky.”

Luo Si thought thus.

He flared his wings, pushing his speed to its limit, widening the distance.

Beneath Long Wei’s scales, a continuous hissing rose as high-temperature gases steamed, propelling it forward in a burst of speed to chase Luo Si—but as Luo Si accelerated fully, each powerful wingbeat stirred violent gales; even in its burst state, Long Wei could not keep pace, and the gap between them steadily widened.

It could not catch up, and its severed tail continued bleeding.

The burst of speed, consuming immense stamina, ended.

Long Wei helplessly halted, only catching glimpses of faint sparks from Luo Si’s wingbeats; after a few blinks, even those sparks vanished.

It let out a screech, then turned and flew back toward the Graymane Wolf Clan.

“Food! I want fresh food!”

In the Crescent Valley, Long Wei landed on wolf territory, demanding the tribe provide more food.

“All live prey have already been delivered to you today.”

The wolf shaman’s face twitched with tension, but he forced calm: “Now we only have dead or dried meat—but plenty of it, enough to fill you.”

Long Wei roared: “I want live prey, live prey!”

It needed to cruelly tear apart living creatures to satisfy its boiling lust for slaughter and vent its fury over being wounded by Luo Si and failing to kill him.

“If you won’t give it, I’ll take it myself!”

Long Wei lunged, snatching a full-grown wolf-man in its jaws.

But that wasn’t enough—it wanted more.

“Enough! Rogos! Return to your nest!”

The old wolf-man stood before Long Wei, eyes blazing, both hands gripping his oak staff, a massive wolf-shaped spirit-shadow rising behind him.

Long Wei circled the old wolf-man once, but did not attack.

Still clutching the screaming wolf-man, it slithered back into its cave on the cliff.

The old wolf-man’s aura faded; his figure grew more hunched.

“I shouldn’t have picked up that dragon egg. I shouldn’t have hatched it. I shouldn’t have raised it.”

His heart brimmed with regret.

This serpent dragon was a sixteen-year-old juvenile dragon—the very beast the old wolf-man had raised himself.

Years ago, during an exploration, the old wolf-man found an egg in a cave filled with bones, brought it back to his territory, and hatched Long Wei.

Tribes living in the wild lacked sufficient knowledge of dragon species.

He did not know this was a vicious, bloodthirsty, inherently cruel serpent dragon—he mistook it for a strange serpent, and seeing its potential, decided to raise it from youth, hoping to tame it as the tribe’s guardian beast.

But.

Serpent dragons like this are vicious and cruel, yet highly intelligent.

In its weakness, it concealed its malice, growing stronger under the wolf tribe’s care, and even killed external enemies for them.

But.

As it grew, it stopped concealing its nature; when enraged, it ate wolf-men without hesitation. Only the old wolf-man, who had raised it from infancy and instilled affection through shamanic rites, could barely keep it restrained—but even that influence was weakening daily.

“Elder, it’s becoming uncontrollable. The cost of keeping it is too high.”

“It was injured fighting an unknown dragon. Let’s seize this chance—gather our warriors and kill it.”

The current wolf chieftain walked beside the shaman, gazing up at the dark cliff cave, speaking in a low tone.

The shaman was the eldest, the most venerable elder in the tribe, holding the highest authority.

“Ambushing Rogos is too dangerous. The losses would be catastrophic—perhaps doom the tribe, causing it to vanish from the wilds.” The old wolf-man shaman pondered, then said.

The wolf chieftain: “Elder, decide soon.”

“If the cost of killing it is too high, we must abandon the Crescent Valley and relocate elsewhere.”

“No matter what, we cannot coexist with it on the same land—otherwise, one day it may go mad and devour us all.”

The old shaman nodded, his voice weary: “I know. Believe me—I will never let my people reach a hopeless end.”

The wolf chieftain nodded, said no more, cast a few more glances at the cave, then turned to soothe the frightened tribe members.

Their emotions must not fluctuate too wildly.

Otherwise, they might transform into monstrous wolves—and possibly never return to human form.

Meanwhile, the old shaman looked up at the quiet night sky, and suddenly recalled the dragon shadow that had flashed across the heavens.

Long Wei had chased it eagerly, then returned in furious defeat.

One tail severed.

It had clearly been humiliated.

Perhaps, he thought, I could harness the power of another dragon?

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(End of Chapter)