Watching the two-headed dragon beast rage helplessly outside the cave entrance, Mantou flashed a smug grin, not caring whether the monster understood Common or not.
"Heh-heh! I just love seeing you hate my guts when you can't lay a finger on me!"
"Weren't you trying to eat me?"
Singo ignored him completely. Frowning slightly, he said to Tiansheng Zhankuang beside him, "Zhankuang, do you feel that? That monster... it's afraid."
"Right now, we're basically playing the fox borrowing the tiger's terror. We're the fox, but what about the tiger behind us?"
Tiansheng Zhankuang nodded gravely and said hesitantly, "You mean... there might be something even more terrifying inside this passage, something that keeps even that dragon beast from daring to approach?"
"That's definitely not something we can defeat."
Singo gazed down into the profound depths of the corridor, an ecstatic grin spreading across his face instead. "Still, extreme risks usually come with extreme rewards. We've made it all the way here—are you bold enough to gamble on it?"
Tiansheng Zhankuang rubbed his bald head and chuckled. "Nothing I'd like more."
"Mantou, let's go."
Only then did Mantou snap out of his verbal barrage against the two-headed dragon beast. With an "Oh," he hurried after them.
The passage was still forged of black metal, casting faint glints of cold light under the flickering candlelight. Ordinary creatures couldn't break it at all.
Yet the three saw deep claw marks gouged everywhere along the metal walls, each several meters long. The surfaces were densely pitted where fangs had pierced deep, and several sections of the metal walls were even caved in several feet from violent impacts, leaving craters nearly five meters across.
Scattered across the floor were long-dried stains of blood and shattered white scales.
It was hard to imagine what kind of monster had caused this, or what kind of brutal battle had taken place here.
Walking in front, Singo turned his head and spoke in a low voice that trembled with excitement.
"Everyone, if I'm not mistaken... there might be a dragon locked in here!"
*Hiss—*
Mantou sucked in a sharp breath.
Without another word, he turned back along the way they had come, picking up every single scattered scale and counting them carefully. Only then did he trot back, beaming with the joy of a bumper harvest.
"What are you two looking at me for?"
"These are rare materials, dropped right off a dragon! If you don't want them, plenty of people will. When the time comes, I'll sell them to those suckers in Magic Coin and make a killing!"
Singo pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a soft sigh.
"Fine..."
"Now we need to talk strategy. Just how are a few level-four nobodies like us supposed to face... a giant dragon?"
The air instantly fell dead silent.
Mantou stammered, "How about... we just call it a day and head back?"
After all, since the closed beta began, the players had only one point of reference for dragons: the red dragon, Cassius.
As their familiar faction leader, his performance during the Battle of Trier could only be described as absurd. That catastrophic fire tornado had effortlessly burned an army of tens of thousands to ash. Videos of that battle had even been uploaded to video platforms, with the comments flooded by "the budget is burning."
And in the recently concluded Battle of the Glacier's Fall, that red dragon had displayed overwhelming power once again, whipping up a black tempest that blanketed half the Vahara Glacier and nearly wiping out the frost giant clan single-handedly.
To an existence of that caliber, low-level class holders like them were nothing more than insignificant statistics.
Tiansheng Zhankuang laughed heartily. "We're already here! Even if we die, at least we'll have seen it!"
Singo turned to Mantou and said provocatively, "If you're scared, feel free to run home."
Even though Mantou knew it was a goad, he still puffed his chest and glared. "Let's go! Whoever's scared is a coward!"
"All right."
The three pushed deeper.
The further inside they went, the more they felt an invisible pressure.
That pressure was inescapable, an inevitability born from the essence of dragon bloodline magic. Rising from the depths of their blood, it sent a tremor straight through their souls.
A dragon.
Only a true dragon could exert this level of suppression on lesser creatures.
As if sensing their arrival, a suppressed, low growl drifted from within the passage. The voice was raspy, seeming to rise from deep within the throat, carrying an unspeakable chill that sent goosebumps prickling across their skin.
Cold sweat broke out on Singo's forehead, but he forced himself to stay calm.
"Keep moving."
"It should be right ahead."
The group stepped through the spacious opening, and the space before them suddenly expanded.
Mantou's eyes went wide, and he couldn't help letting out a gasp.
"It really is..."
"A dragon."
In the center of an expansive hall hundreds of meters across, a white dragon lay coiled.
It was covered in gleaming, pure-white scales, its massive body nearly fifteen meters long and remarkably solid, with a relatively short neck and a thick, heavy tail.
The dragon's head had a smooth profile, with a small, sharp, beak-like tip on its snout and a protruding lower jaw. Atop its head sat a crest supported by backward-curving spines. Upon that ferocious head were scaled cheeks, spiky dewlaps, and teeth that jutted out even when its maw was closed.
This was the most typical of white dragons. The lowest among the chromatic dragons, it was nonetheless an existence countless mortals could only look up to, capable of bringing ruin to an entire town in the Northlands.
Yet at this moment, the white dragon was in a miserable state. Beneath it lay an intricate magic circle, and its body was bound tightly by countless insubstantial magic chains, leaving it unable to move in the slightest. Nearly a hundred needle tubes pierced through the gaps in its scales, burrowing deep into various parts of its body and steadily funneling precious dragon blood toward apparatuses.
The massive dragon body was covered in wounds. Hundreds of scales along its flanks had been stripped away, the flesh beneath crudely gouged out to leave several deep pits oozing dark crimson blood.
Scattered across the floor were various experimental instruments—blades, syringes, and bone saws—plainly tested upon this white dragon.
Yet even after enduring such torture, the white dragon still retained an unimaginably powerful vitality. Though trapped in slumber, the dull thud of its heartbeat echoed through the hall, and the frost exhaled with each slow breath made their scalps tingle.
Tiptoeing forward, Mantou approached with utmost caution and saw a metal plaque standing before the white dragon.
Unlike the ones they had seen before, this metal plaque bore savage bite marks, mottled bloodstains, and cracked fractures, though it had been patched up and set back in place.
*Subject 1: White Dragon "Tinia"*
*"She is truly magnificent."*
*"I am enchanted by her slumber, and even more obsessed with her violent struggles. Without spells to restrain her, those claws and fangs would surely tear me to shreds."*
*"Ah, she is the most perfect specimen, the existence that will set me upon the path of great evolution—a white dragon carrying a faint trace of progenitor bloodline. —Vagnerd, January 1, Year 1346 of the Third Age."*
Chapter 200