For the past five months, Cassius had remained in the Pokhara Forest, scouring the wilderness for formidable beasts. The red dragon turned them into nourishment for his growth as well as experience points for his progression.
A measured degree of caution was necessary; until he possessed absolute certainty, Cassius would never attempt to challenge truly mighty creatures.
By now, Cassius had advanced to Level 2, acquiring the "Font of Magic" feature and unlocking the power of sorcery points.
Through this period of continuous hunting, the growing young red dragon had expanded several sizes, stretching a full six meters from snout to tail-tip.
His scales shone with a brighter, richer crimson. Along his spine sprouted slight bony ridges, though they had yet to coalesce into a full dorsal crest—a clear sign that he was approaching his next stage of growth.
The head he held high had grown more fearsome: the horns atop his brow were longer, harder, and circled by new growth rings; short, keratinous spikes protruded from his chin; and his irises had lightened a few shades from before.
Naturally, the red dragon still bore the classic juvenile trait of having a head too large for his body.
His proportions remained somewhat comical.
Cassius gulped down a chunk of meat whole, then looked up at his status panel.
"Advance Sorcerer level."
[Your Sorcerer level has increased to Level 3.]
[The magical power suppressed deep within your body, mind, and soul is unleashed. With formidable willpower, you can twist the spells you cast to produce your desired effects. You have gained the feature: Metamagic.]
[You may choose two Metamagic options.]
[You have acquired Metamagic: Quickened Spell and Metamagic: Twinned Spell.]
Metamagic: Quickened Spell:
By expending a certain number of sorcery points and bending the spell to your indomitable sorcerous will, your spells can be cast instantaneously without prior preparation.
Metamagic: Twinned Spell:
By expending the corresponding sorcery points and applying your sorcerous will, you duplicate a prepared spell, allowing it to affect multiple targets simultaneously.
Cassius had chosen without hesitation what had been considered the most brain-dead, no-brainer Metamagic pairing in his past life.
While sorcerers did not need to construct intricate spell models like wizards, they still had to attune their will to the Weave and prepare their magic.
Quickened Spell bypassed that, allowing instant casting and making spells obey his thoughts like limbs.
As for Twinned Spell, it went without saying: in the heat of combat, an extra spell—or even half of one—could decisively turn the tide.
[You have acquired the 1st-level spells: Charm Person and Thunderwave.]
[You have acquired the 2nd-level spells: Invisibility and Enhance Ability.]
When it came to spell selection, Cassius prioritized utility over direct offensive magic.
After all, as a red dragon, the damage of most early low-level spells could not hold a candle to his razor-sharp fangs, claws, and fiery breath weapon—not to mention his once-per-day Scorching Ray.
If he could turn invisible or charm a target, the practical value far exceeded a meager bit of extra damage.
With his choices finalized, the red dragon slowly closed his eyes.
A surge of boundless sorcerous power unlocked from deep within his body, rolling out like a gushing spring and binding forcefully to his will.
There was no need to calculate parameters or draft models; he only had to wield that raw power and bend magic to his whims with sheer, unreasonable force.
This was the Weave: an operating system encompassing both order and chaos.
Several spells surfaced from the depths of his mind, etching themselves into the red dragon's consciousness. He had finally reached a higher stratum of the Weave and gained a profounder understanding of how it functioned in this world.
"It's about time I left this place."
"Let the next destination be the Storm Heights."
Having eaten and drunk his fill, the red dragon abandoned the handful of rough lairs he had used throughout the forest without a shred of sentimentality, beating his wings and soaring into the sky.
The sky stretched cloudless, an expanse of azure.
Looking down upon the world, beneath him lay a dense, verdant forest where deer darted among the trees.
Further off lay a vast, bleak plateau, where the faint outlines of several cities could be discerned. And beyond that stretched an endless expanse of snow-draped peaks...
This was the Great Anzetta Waste, situated in the northwestern reaches of the western continent of Elzerg. Cradled by the majestic Anstica Mountains, it was known as the "Springless Land" due to its perpetual, biting cold.
Over a millennium, the indomitable Scanrans had built dozens of cities here, gradually coalescing into the Northern United Kingdom led by Grand Duke Bosque. Orcs, giants, goblins, and even dragons shared this immense territory, coexisting across the wilderness.
The gale aloft tore past the red dragon's scales, drying the traces of blood lingering at the corner of his jaws.
Every tangible sensation served as a vivid reminder to Cassius—or rather, Lin Kai:
He was alive.
Truly alive beneath this very sky.
None of this was a virtual game.
Gazing down upon the boundless earth, the red dragon murmured to himself:
"I am Cassius..."
Yet the latter half of his words was swept away by the howling gale: "...and once was Lin Kai."
...
Deep in the mountains, in the coldest corner of Anzetta, stood a soaring black tower.
None knew its origins, and none dared approach it.
From within often drifted the wails of unknown beasts, earning it the name the Tower of Polar Night.
At its pinnacle, a man clad in a hooded black robe waited for something, his face obscured in shadow.
Pinned over his chest was a rust-eaten insignia depicting an eye-bearing flame blazing atop a dragon's claw.
Moments later, a portal materialized out of thin air. An ugly monster crawled slowly out of it, prostrating itself before the man in a bizarre posture.
The monstrosity stood over three meters tall; even kneeling, it towered considerably above the man.
Its body was grotesquely warped, resembling a defective patchwork stitched together from haphazard clumps of flesh.
Patches of white scales covered its frame, yet broad swathes of raw flesh remained exposed, while thick, matted hair hung down from the top of its head, making for a nauseating sight.
The creature spoke with immense effort: "Mas... ter... It's... it's a red dragon."
With that, it extended a mangled, twisted limb, presenting a charred bone whose silhouette could still be identified as the skull of a dire wolf.
"A mighty red dragon?"
"Wonderful... truly wonderful!"
The man's tone grew extraordinarily excited.
"It... is cunning. I have not yet found its lair."
"Hahaha, do not fret. I know these red dragons all too well. Arrogant, greedy, wrathful, reliant on brute force, weary of thought..."
"Once these beasts possess sufficient strength, they run amok like dogs in heat, marking their territory and flaunting their might without restraint."
The man laughed madly, his tone rapturous and obsessed.
"When that time comes, that strength shall be mine to command."
"Yes... Master..."
The creature slowly lowered its head, thick locks concealing its eerie blue eyes.
The man stepped forward and gently stroked the monster's head, unbothered by the unknown mucus coating his fingers. He murmured in a soft voice:
"I will not fail again. Never... never again..."
The words seemed spoken to the beast, yet equally directed at himself.
Chapter 7