Chapter 71: The Correct and Incorrect Uses of Scale Powder

Samantha spiraled down from the sky.

In her talons, she carried a wild beast resembling a bull, its body packed with muscle, and hurled it onto the ground.

“My dear brother, I felt you were about to wake, so I went hunting early—are you hungry now? Eat first to fill your stomach.”

Samantha said.

So thoughtful? Luo Si glanced at the red dragon in surprise.

This wasn’t the Samantha he remembered.

In fact,

these past few days, while Luo Si rested to heal his wounds, Samantha had circled the skies, spotting too many powerful beasts and monsters she couldn’t handle alone—her mind remained tense, unable to relax.

When Luo Si was around, she hadn’t noticed much—she simply focused on alchemy, played with ants, and did whatever Luo Si told her to do; life was calm and easy, almost no different from under the Iron Dragon Mother’s protection.

Only when Luo Si stepped back into the shadows did she truly realize how reliable and secure he was.

After devouring the bull-beast, Luo Si still wasn’t satisfied—the hunger in his belly remained.

“Too bad, there’s no black oil left.”

“If only I’d had a can after waking from sleep, I wouldn’t have been so desperately hungry.”

Since the source of black oil vanished, Luo Si had grown especially nostalgic for its taste.

It isn’t addictive, but its benefits to Luo Si are too significant to ignore.

“I need to find a reliable channel—one that can consistently supply black oil.”

Luo Si thought.

For now, let’s start with some fairy dragon scales—revive my spirit.

In terms of mental stimulation and enhancement, fairy scales are even stronger than black oil.

Luo Si turned his head toward Long Weila and waved his claw at her.

Since this wasn’t the first time, Long Weila understood his intent without words—she flew above him, flapped her butterfly-like wings, and shed a shower of scales, which Luo Si inhaled in one breath, swallowing every last one.

Hum!

In an instant, a warm current surged from the crown of his head straight down to his tailbone.

Luo Si’s world sharpened, bathed in warm hues; his senses expanded more than double, his spirit bristled, and his thoughts flowed without obstruction.

Luo Si knew himself well.

Whether iron dragon or red dragon,

to others—or other dragons—he was never seen as intelligent.

In truth, that was accurate.

Luo Si knew well that as a hybrid of iron and red dragon, his intellect was average—neither low nor high.

Terms like “wisdom bordering on the supernatural” or “high intelligence” didn’t apply to him; his greatest advantage, beyond his adaptive evolution talent, lay in his ability to restrain desires and negative emotions.

But after using fairy scales,

with his thoughts racing and his mind clear and bright, minor details he’d previously overlooked now stood out—and Luo Si couldn’t help but feel:

—I’m incredibly smart right now.

“I should’ve used fairy scales when studying the cliff serpent’s steam eruption.”

“Fairy scales should be used for strategic thinking during combat, enhancing perception, unlocking ancestral bloodline techniques, or beginning professional knowledge study.”

“Using fairy scales merely for temporary mental stimulation is an extreme waste.”

The incredibly smart Luo Si thought rapidly, his dragon eyes glowing with wisdom.

“Weila, give me more scales.”

He said.

Long Weila blinked once, then flapped her wings again, shedding even more scales.

Luo Si didn’t use them immediately—he stored them away, hiding them in the crevices beneath his inner scales, so he could access them instantly when needed, without requiring Long Weila to be present.

Soon after, Luo Si beat his wings and shot straight into the clouds, hunting for food.

“Little one, let me taste your scales too.”

After Luo Si left, Samantha grew curious about the taste of fairy scales.

“No, I’m Luo Si’s servant—I can’t act without his permission.”

Long Weila shook her head, refusing.

That tone sounded almost proud?

Samantha drifted casually closer, then, while Long Weila wasn’t looking, shot out her tongue and licked the fairy dragon’s wing.

“Hey! What are you doing!”

Long Weila was drenched in red dragon saliva and retreated.

She wasn’t afraid—she knew Samantha wouldn’t eat her.

On the other side, after tasting the fairy scales, Samantha’s spirit surged—her thoughts raced, and she felt smarter.

But she didn’t use the moment to study alchemy.

She hurried to an ant nest, imagining rich “Red Dragon Queen” scenarios; with her hyper-sensitive mind, the fantasies nearly became hallucinations, and she began to toy with the ants.

"Ancient awakened destruction ants, how dare you invade the territory of the great Red Dragon Queen!"

“Hehehe, things are getting interesting.”

"You're the King of the destruction ants? You don't understand the gap in power—face my dragon flame!"

Samantha was lost in her hallucination.

Long Weila circled around Samantha, quickly grasped her game, synced with her brainwaves, and enthusiastically joined in.

Meanwhile,

Luo Si beat his wings as he swept across the sky, his sharp gaze scanning the earth below.

After several days of rest,

the burst scales on his body had regrown—these scales shed easily but regenerated quickly; without increased speed, the heat glow was invisible, appearing mostly black-gray, blending into the pale blue-gray sky of the wilderness.

Unless a creature had exceptional perception,

few could notice a red-iron dragon soaring high above.

Under the blazing wilderness sun, a herd of steel-bristled spiky beasts rolled in a muddy patch of forest.

These were beasts resembling boars, but far larger—two meters tall at the shoulder, nearly seven meters long; their metallic bristles absorbed attacks and could be fired like arrows, while their skin was armored with hardened tree resin and mud, clearly built for defense.

Around them, this herd was the sole dominant force.

When they charged as a group, other beasts and monsters fled in fear.

Thus,

they happily, carelessly, rolled in the mud, nudging and play-fighting each other.

Until a heart-shaking screech pierced the air.

As Luo Si beat his wings at high speed, the feather-like scales on his membrane guided airflow, producing a terrifying screech like the arrival of death itself—merely the sound could terrify most creatures.

The spiky beasts were no exception.

These “dominators” felt fear under Luo Si’s dragon aura and scattered, trying to flee.

But it was too late.

The moment the screech sounded, Luo Si was already diving at full speed.

Whoosh! He dove, his claws gripping the back of a massive spiky beast—their hardened armor shattered like a brittle walnut under his dragon claws.

He pressed down with his heavy body, then slammed another claw onto the beast’s skull.

The immense force cracked its skull open.

The spiky beast shuddered, then went limp.

This level-7 beast was instantly slain by Luo Si.

He didn’t eat on the spot—he lifted the heavy carcass and flew back into the sky. Soon after, the other spiky beasts regathered, refusing to abandon the area.

The loss of one member

wasn’t enough to make them relocate their territory.

Such spiky beast herds, centered around the Pine Needle Valley, were scattered nearby—alongside horned rams, armored giant rhinos, and earth crocodiles—all excellent prey.

When hunting, Luo Si never fixated on just one—he rotated targets continuously.

On one hand, it let him vary his diet.

More importantly, it ensured sustainability, preventing these herds from fleeing too far.

Spiky beast meat was abundant—a single meal finally eased Luo Si’s hunger.

(End of Chapter)