Seratus stood by the lakeside, the damp soil beneath his feet exuding the scent of decaying humus, mingled with the briny tang of the lake water. His claws sank deep into the mud, each step accompanied by a squelching sound.
The last rays of the setting sun cast a blood-red hue over the lake’s surface, as if some ominous secret lay hidden in its depths. Water droplets clung to his scales, each one shimmering faintly in the fading light, like countless cold eyes watching him.
His breathing was still labored, his chest heaving violently, the salty taste of the lake lingering in his throat. Just minutes ago, he had felt an overwhelming pressure in the depths of the lake—the aura of a monstrous beast from the abyss.
That aura was like an invisible net, wrapping tightly around him, carrying an ancient and savage power that seemed ready to drag him into the depths at any moment. Seratus couldn’t even be sure of the beast’s form, but its presence was so palpable, as if it had been branded into the depths of his soul.
“I’m still alive…” Seratus murmured, his voice hoarse and trembling. His claws clenched unconsciously, the icy touch of the lake water still lingering on his fingertips. The image of the lakebed refused to leave his mind: in the dark waters, a massive shadow moved slowly, its outline blurred yet exuding a chilling pressure.
He knew that if he had taken one more step, he might have become the beast’s prey.
Seratus forced himself to calm down and retrieved a bag of elemental fertilizer from his system space. As he tore open the bag, a rich, magical scent wafted out, carrying a faint sweetness, like the fragrance of ripe fruit. Carefully, he scooped out a small handful with his claw and placed it in his mouth.
The fertilizer dissolved instantly, transforming into a warm current that flowed through his body. The magic coursed through his veins, igniting every inch of his inner fire. His scales glowed faintly, flames dancing between them, dispelling the cold of the lake and the fear in his heart.
“I’m still too weak…” Seratus muttered to himself, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. He looked down at his small claws. Though he now possessed the power of a red dragon, he was still just a hatchling. The beast in the lake had made him realize that this world was far more dangerous than he had imagined.
Raising his head, his gaze swept across the lake, and he noticed several magic stones scattered on the lakebed. The stones were irregularly shaped, their surfaces rough, yet they emitted faint pulses of magic. Seratus frowned, a hint of suspicion rising in his heart—why were these magic stones in the lake? They had clearly been mined, but the lakebed was not their natural habitat.
He pondered for a moment but found no answer. He could only collect the stones and store them in his system space.
Night fell gradually, and the forest grew dim. Seratus glanced up at the sky, where the moon had risen silently, its silver light casting an air of mystery over the treetops. He took a deep breath and began walking toward the volcanic lava cave.
The forest at night was far from quiet. In the distance, wolf howls echoed, and low growls reverberated through the trees, as if countless eyes watched him from the darkness.
His heartbeat quickened, and his claws clenched unconsciously. Though he was a red dragon, the forest at night still filled him with unease. Seratus quickened his pace, his scales glinting faintly in the moonlight, as if guiding his way.
Finally, he saw the outline of the volcanic lava cave. The entrance was illuminated by the glow of the lava, exuding a warm aura. Seratus let out a sigh of relief, the unease in his heart easing slightly.
Entering the cave, Seratus’s gaze swept over the pile of glittering gold coins, and a complex emotion welled up within him. These coins belonged to the Dragon Mother, but to him, they symbolized power and wealth.
“One day, I’ll have such wealth too,” Seratus murmured, a glint of determination in his eyes.
He walked to his sleeping spot and lay down, exhaustion quickly overtaking him. Closing his eyes, the image of the shadow in the lake and the beast’s aura flashed in his mind, but soon they were replaced by the warmth of the lava cave and the overwhelming power of the Dragon Mother. Gradually, he drifted into sleep, his breathing steady and deep.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the cave, Catilia watched Seratus quietly. Her gaze was calm yet sharp, as if she were pondering something. She licked her claws lightly, a sly thought forming in her mind: “Once Seratus lets his guard down, I’ll go find those life mushrooms.”
A hint of cunning flashed in her eyes before she turned and disappeared into the darkness, as if she had never been there.
At the same time, on the edge of the Elden Beast Mountains, the city of Ironstead stood like a massive black fortress under the heavy veil of night. Its towering walls, weathered and cracked, seemed to tell the story of its long history with every brick.
Beyond the walls, the vast forest rustled in the night wind, the sound of leaves mingling with the distant howls of wolves, creating an unsettling melody. Deep within the mineral veins, the faint glow of ore seeped through cracks in the earth, as if the land itself whispered of its wealth and secrets.
The night was deep, yet the lord’s manor in Ironstead was brightly lit, illuminating every corner. Guards clad in heavy steel armor patrolled with disciplined steps, the clanking of their armor piercing the silence of the night.
Their eyes were sharp as hawks, ever vigilant for any sign of disturbance. In the study of the manor, Lord Eldric Pech George Robinson sat alone behind a grand desk, gripping several letters tightly, his brow furrowed and his gaze deep and grave.
One letter was from the current emperor of the capital, its words hinting at a desire for Ironstead’s economic support and a strong suggestion of loyalty. Another was an enthusiastic invitation from the rebel army, promising a share of victory and glory if Ironstead joined their cause. The last was a conspiratorial letter from other neutral lords, their words filled with deep concern over the current turmoil and a desperate wish to unite for self-preservation.
Eldric knew that behind these three letters lay the turmoil of the capital, and the future of both himself and Ironstead hung in the balance. His fists clenched unconsciously, his knuckles whitening, but soon he relaxed, as if the weight of the decision he had to make was crushing.
He stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the Elden Beast Mountains, which held untold wealth. The rugged peaks and dense forests, the veins of ore glowing enticingly—this was the land his family had cultivated for generations, the source of his power and wealth.
Yet, the unrest in the capital now forced him to reconsider his stance and choices.
“Can we really stay out of this?” Eldric muttered to himself, a note of helplessness and confusion in his voice. He knew that whichever path he chose, an unpredictable storm would soon follow.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door, followed by the low, respectful voice of a guard: “Lord, the officials you summoned have gathered and are awaiting your instructions in the meeting room.”
Eldric took a deep breath, turned slowly, and a glint of resolve flashed in his eyes. He knew it was time to make a decision. With heavy yet resolute steps, he strode out of the study and toward the meeting room.
