Grutar

"This is my escape route!" A streak of bloody light shot into the sky from between the dragonbeasts, fleeing into the distance and vanishing without a trace, leaving behind only that parting shout. "Damn blood-sucking bug!" His face twisted with rage, the cult priest could only vent his fury on Anyezhilang, who had been apprehended by the soldiers. He lashed his whip viciously across the player's back, flaying open the flesh. Yet thanks to a vampire's racial traits, wounds dripping with blood one second knitted closed the next, fresh skin growing in their place. Seeing that he could inflict no lasting harm, the cult priest barked in exasperation, "Take him back! Drag him inside! I'm going to feed this mongrel to the dragonbeasts and have them tear him to shreds! Let's see if he can regenerate from that!" Slapped into heavy anti-magic manacles, Anyezhilang was escorted into the city by the soldiers, looking utterly dejected—this was probably far from the first time Langlibaitiao had sold him out. Mantou grinned gloatingly, typing in the group chat: "Langlibaitiao is an absolute animal. Just dumped his little bro right there. Fits my stereotype of him to a tee." Xiaye Qiuyu: "Better start thinking about how we're going to get through this. That cult priest's staff can dispel magic. If you slip up, we won't end up any better off than Anyezhilang." Singo: "In that case, let's make things even more chaotic and fish in troubled waters! Mantou, follow my lead in a moment!" Wo Qu Chi Mantou: "Alright. If we get exposed, we'll just have Brother Zhankuang hack our way out!" The squad of cultists who had failed to stay vigilant and unwittingly hauled Langlibaitiao and Anyezhilang over disguised as gold bars was dragged into the mess as well. "Daring to bring enemies into the city—seems they're traitors too! Take them away and lock them in the dungeon!" At the cult priest's command, heavily armed dragon scion soldiers closed in and hauled them all off. "My lord, my lord! We're innocent!" "Spare us, please! It's not our fault! We had no idea anyone would disguise themselves as gold bars!" "No, no, I don't want to become a sacrifice! My lord, I beg you, I'll do anything!" "My loyalty to Her Majesty the Dragon Queen is beyond question!!" The cultists wailed frantically, tears and snot streaming down their faces as they squirmed and thrashed. They knew full well the fate awaiting them—to be thrown into the breeding pools and become fodder for the dragonbeasts. For they had brought countless innocent commoners into Forest Hawk City, mercilessly hurling them into the blood pools to die in agony and terror. Now, they were about to face that very same fate themselves. Listening to the cultists' pleas, the priest sneered and waved a dismissive hand. "Since you are so loyal, dedicate your flesh, blood, and soul to the great Mother of Evil Dragons! Burn out the last scrap of value you possess!" "No, no—!" The cultists' shrill wails sent chills down the spines of the people waiting outside the city, cold sweat drenching them. And the commoners being escorted along realized they were destined for sacrifice as well. Drained of color and soaked in sweat from fright, several even fainted on the spot. Yet none of it made any difference. To the Cult of the Dragon, these humans were nothing more than the cheapest of consumables. After this farcical scene, the screening at the city gates tightened further. Every convoy had to undergo rigorous layers of inspection before being allowed through. Yet right at that moment, a commotion erupted. Under Mantou's orders, Ryder led his men past several groups ahead of them, marching straight to the very front, cursing loudly, "Get out of the way! Let us through first!" The cultist he shoved was startled and furious. "You—" Even the cult priest and the dragon scion soldiers were drawn by the ruckus. But Ryder gritted his teeth, stepped forward, and slapped the cultist across the face. *Smack!* A crisp crack rang out, followed by an angry shout: "Didn't you hear me? Clear out of the way already!" The cultist stood frozen for a second, caught off guard, before fury surged in his chest. Glaring venomously at Ryder, he lunged straight into him. "You're looking to die!" Just then, a massive fireball hurtled in from the distance, engulfing the cultist's head and leaving behind only a charred corpse. Farther back, Xiaye Qiuyu wore an indifferent expression, lightly blowing a wisp of black smoke from her palm. Ryder remained rooted to the spot, his legs trembling violently, yet his resolve held firm—success or failure hung on this single gamble; whether he became a dragon scion depended entirely on carrying this through. The dragon scion soldiers and cult priest stared in stunned disbelief. They never imagined anyone could be so brazen as to murder someone right at the gates of Forest Hawk City. The cult priest roared, "What do you think you're doing?! Are you rebelling?!" Yet right then, a slightly childish voice came from afar: "Just killed an insolent piece of trash. Is that worth making such a fuss over?" Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, their expressions instantly shifting. From atop a carriage in the rear, a red wyrmling stepped down slowly. His scales were a brilliant, fiery crimson, and sparks danced within his narrow, vertical pupils. —A red dragon. Though not large in size, he radiated an undeniable dragon fear, flanked by several formidable dragon scions standing as his retainers. "Did you say I'm rebelling?" The cult priest's face changed instantly, adopting an obsequious smile. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not realize you were an honored true dragon..." Mantou glanced around with a chilling tone, a flicker of wrath flaring in his golden dragon eyes. "I come bearing the decree of Her Majesty the Dragon Queen, yet you make me wait at the city gates for so long! What punishment do you deserve for this?!" "Get out of the way! All of you, move!" A juvenile roar erupted from the dragon maw. High-pitched though it was, none dared dismiss it. Such was the transcendent status of true dragons within the Cult of the Dragon. Even a mere wyrmling was enough to make a cult priest cower in deference. Bowing his head, the priest replied cautiously, "My lord, please bear with us for a moment. Enemies have been multiplying recently, and we must obey orders from above..." "Orders? We dragons are the masters of the Cult of the Dragon! What right do you have to inspect me?" Mantou maintained his arrogant, imperious posture. Far from suspecting anything, the cultists grew only more convinced of his identity as a red dragon. After all, that was just how red dragons were: cruel, insolent, and capricious. Murdering someone right in the street was completely in character for them. Had this red dragon acted meek and reasonable, they would have doubted his true nature instead. The cult priest offered a strained chuckle, then whispered into the ear of a messenger: "Quick, fetch Lord Grutar. Tell him an arrogant young red dragon has arrived at the gates." "Yes, Lord Elon." The messenger mounted a lean wyvern and flew straight toward the interior of Forest Hawk City. Soon, accompanied by a foul-smelling gale, a massive green figure descended from the sky and landed before the crowd. Heads snapped upward. A gigantic body over a dozen meters long, olive-green scales, and a crest extending over most of his spine—it was a green dragon, and an adult one at that. The cult priest and dragon scion soldiers dropped to their knees, bowing in homage to this mighty true dragon. Grutar let out an aggressive roar, glaring down at the crowd below. "Who dares cause trouble in green dragon territory?" *He really showed up!* Mantou's heart skipped a beat in fright, but he feigned composure and stepped forward. "I take it... you must be Grutar." The adult green dragon narrowed his eyes, looking down at the red dragon who appeared minuscule before him, an eerie light flashing in his gaze. "A red wyrmling that hasn't even left the nest? "How intriguing. Didn't your parents teach you—to stay humble before the strong?" The green dragon's voice deepened, rising into a thunderous roar. His immense dragon fear rolled out, forcing Mantou back several paces. Suddenly, Grutar's motion froze. Cocking his head slightly, the adult green dragon scrutinized Xiaye Qiuyu behind Mantou, a wary gleam surfacing in his narrow vertical pupils. —He sensed a familiar aura. "This aura... smells identical to that damned woman!" Grutar gritted his teeth, recalling the humiliating ordeal of being hunted down by a dragon scion woman just days ago. Even now, the memory of that day filled him with an urge to skin her alive, an itch he often vented by slaughtering people. Grutar glared ferociously at Mantou, his face brimming with menace. "Has your Red Dragon Sect finally admitted you were the ones behind it?" *Huh?* *Did we accidentally stumble into some bizarre side-quest branch? This definitely wasn't in our plan!* Confusion flooded Mantou's mind. In the chat box, Singo chimed in: "Whatever he says, just roll with it. The most important thing is getting into the core of Forest Hawk City and sneaking into the dragon hatchery. "Keep your responses evasive. Confuse the green dragon. If all else fails, play dumb." Grutar stalked forward, fixing him with an oppressive stare. "Heh, is this the Red Dragon Sect's idea of sincerity? Sending a red whelp whose scales haven't even finished growing! Are you trying to insult me?" Under the green dragon's crushing aura, Mantou trembled all over, feeling his dragon form teeter on the brink of collapse. Forcing himself to muster some bravado, he said, "Green dragon, you—" Grutar sneered. "What a pathetic little whelp. So cowardly you can't even speak before me." He grinned, baring vicious fangs. "Still, this works out nicely. With you as a hostage, those Red Dragon Sect bastards will have to cough up quite a few gold coins, won't they? "And most importantly, they'll have to hand over that damned woman! I will tear her limb from limb!" Even with rival sects clashing, chromatic dragons rarely slaughtered one another; after all, they shared a common deity—Tiamat, the Mother of Evil Dragons and Chromatic Dragon Queen. Furthermore, as an adult green dragon, he had little need to lower himself to squabbling with a mere red wyrmling. With that thought, the green dragon waved a claw and commanded, "Take this red whelp and his retinue to the inner district. Guard them strictly—do not let them leave under any circumstances." "Yes, my lord." The dragon scion soldiers surrounded them promptly, though none dared lay hands on him. At the end of the day, he was a noble true dragon, separated from them by an insurmountable gulf in status. The cult priest stepped forward, bowing and gesturing with an obsequious smile. "My apologies, Lord Red Dragon. Please, right this way." Mantou asked quietly in the chat: "What do we do now?" Singo: "Great. Don't resist. Let them escort us in; the dragon hatchery is right in the inner district." Tiansheng Zhankuang: "Once we reach the inner district, I'll slaughter every guard watching over us." Xiaye Qiuyu: "I placed a tracking device on that woman. When the time comes, we'll follow her coordinates to locate the hatchery and infiltrate it." Wo Qu Chi Mantou: "Alright, that's the plan." "Lowly mongrels..." The red wyrmling gave a disdainful snort, yet followed the dragon scion soldiers through the gates and deep into Forest Hawk City. Beside him, his dragon scion retainers accompanied him in silence. As for the cultists—Ryder included—none followed any further. Instead, they handed over the sacrifices, placing the weeping, sobbing commoners into the custody of the dragon scion guards. As for the inspections at the gate? They had long since thrown that completely out of their minds. ... Having delivered the sacrifices into Forest Hawk City, Ryder led the remaining cultists around to head back to Blackwood Town. "Phew... everything went smoothly." He patted his chest, calming the wild thumping brought on by extreme tension and excitement. Through his robe, he tightly clutched the scroll in his pocket, beads of sweat dampening his palms. Fantastic. Not only was Duka dead—that fool who had lorded over him, beating and insulting him at whim—but he also had the chance to become a red dragon scion. Yet at that thought, tension gripped Ryder once more, weighing on his chest like a thousand-pound boulder. What if the other cultists had seen this precious scroll? What if... they harbored traitorous ambitions and coveted his position, just like he once had? At that thought, cold sweat broke out across his skin. The look he cast toward his subordinates turned guarded and uneasy. No, he had to become a dragon scion as soon as possible. Only with the power of dragons could he seize complete control over Blackwood Town and reign supreme. And so, Ryder dismissed the other cultists and made his way alone to a secluded corner shrouded by dense woods. He activated the scroll, and space immediately twisted around him. *Whoosh!* A wave of dizziness washed over Ryder as if he had taken a heavy blow to the head. When he opened his eyes again, the scenery before him was completely unrecognizable. Far from the enigmatic altar he had envisioned—filled with steaming basins of warm dragon blood and teeming with red dragon scion cultists—what met his eyes was an enclosed chamber with spotless white walls. The overhead lights were blindingly harsh. Surrounding him were several humans clad in white lab coats and face masks, clutching glinting tweezers, scissors, and scalpels. They were eyeing Ryder with keen interest, yet their gazes treated him like an experimental subject rather than a living human being. The words spilling from their mouths chilled Ryder to the very core. "This specimen is rather unique—a worshiper of the Cult of the Dragon. Perfect for studying the connection between faith and bloodlines." "Mm, be careful during the procedure. Don't be clumsy; don't go killing him." "Let's start with the abdomen. Peel back the skin and muscle tissue, extract the target organs, and replace them with our lab-grown dragon-type organs to see if there's any immune rejection." "Xiao Wang, make sure to log the specimen's reactions at each stage for follow-up analysis." "Got it." "Wait, look—seems he's awake." Ryder stared in terror at the white-coated figures and thrashed with all his might, only to find his hands and feet tightly bound, pinning him to a cold metal table without an inch of leeway. He screamed in panic, "Let me go! I'm Lord Mantoufsky's subordinate! I'm destined to become a red dragon scion!" Yet the white-coated humans paid him no heed whatsoever. As if long accustomed to this, they continued their discussion. "He is a spellcaster after all; his nervous system differs from ordinary people. Bump up his anesthetic by eight hundred milligrams next time." "Xiao Wang, are the instruments calibrated?" "Yes." "Let's begin: Live Organ Replacement Experiment Number 647, Draconic Series. We should make decent progress this time." The next moment, a syringe was jabbed into Ryder. Darkness rushed over his vision, and he blacked out once more. In that final moment before consciousness faded, grief, fury, and despair flooded Ryder's heart. Tears of sheer terror poured from his eyes as he murmured, "A scam... it was all a scam..."