Chapter 158: Chapter 150: Sub-dragon Group

The twilight drapes the valley with a layer of deep blue gauze. The Giant Wolf Knights lower their positions, pressing against the cliff walls as they slowly advance, passing through the narrow entrance and reaching the open valley interior.

The leading Werewolf is Russell.

He was originally the Clan Leader of the Howling Moon Clan. Later, after the clan was reorganized into a battle group, due to the strong connection with the Giant Wolf mount he shared with a former mate, his skills surpassed those of the Jackal-Wolf Folk and War Lizardfolk Knights, and he now serves as the Battle Team Leader of the Red Iron Riders.

Compared to a few years ago,

Russell’s gray fur has increased, and there are more white whiskers on his face.

Werewolves have a short life span, and he has already passed his peak period. Now, his status is gradually declining, making his position as the Red Iron Riders’ Battle Team Leader somewhat precarious.

The mission to scout the unknown valley is extremely dangerous.

But he volunteered, leading the team into the valley.

The reason is simple: he wants to prove himself more, to establish more meritorious deeds, and thereby obtain a chance for Dragon Vein Transformation. After becoming a Dragon Vein Creature, his life span would increase dramatically, freeing him from the worries of the passage of time and the decline of his condition.

When Galos collected Dragon Blood, it was done openly, without concealment.

The monsters all knew the opportunity for Dragon Vein Transformation had arrived. Recently, enthusiasm has increased significantly, and hidden and overt competitions have begun as they seek to gain attention and opportunities.

Russell gently patted the neck of the Giant Wolf.

The silver-gray Giant Wolf immediately understood, its pads treading silently on the ground, its Dragon Eyes glowing with a ghostly green light in the dim twilight.

The valley interior was more bountiful than expected.

The central lake’s surface was rippling with lead-gray waves, and the lakeshore was piled with many animal bones. However, fresh tracks showed that herds of reindeer often came here to drink.

Russell squatted down, his fingers brushing over the hoofprints in the muddy ground. The still-damp soil proved they had just left not long ago.

On the eastern cliff side, clusters of white-leaf pines grew. These cold-resistant trees’ needles were rich in oil, making them excellent torch materials. To the Wolf Knights’ delight, they found a large number of red berry bushes at the edge of the pine forest. These berries could stave off hunger and could also be ground into a magic potion to treat minor injuries.

The Giant Wolf Knights slowly explored the valley’s interior.

Suddenly, Russell’s ears perked up, and he said in a deep voice, “Stay alert!”

He heard an unusual sound.

The wind carried a faint rustling of leather against rock, and the already dim twilight was shrouded by a colossal shadow.

The Giant Wolf Knights looked up, their pupils constricting sharply.

It was ten dragons!

They had deep brown skin, with the smallest being over eight meters long and an even larger wingspan, close to twenty meters, spreading to cover the sky and cast huge shadows on the ground, their tails long and thick, ending with sharp, venomous barbs.

Hiss!

Roar!

They emitted hoarse, snake-like hisses, and deep roars pushed from the depths of their throats, as they crawled from a cave on the western cliff and dove down through the twilight.

The appearance of these dragons threw the Giant Wolf Knights into disarray.

If it had been other fierce beasts, there wouldn’t have been such panic, as they knew well that the powerful Dragon Lord and his brothers hovered in the skies, providing solid support.

But these were dragons.

So many dragons, the situation was entirely different!

Only Russell reacted in time, shouting, “Don’t panic! They are not true dragons! Just a group of wyverns!”

He was well-versed in clan records, his understanding of the Dragon Race far surpassing his kin.

He recognized these dragons’ identity—Two-legged Flying Dragons.

These creatures were not true dragons, possessing only a thin thread of Dragon Blood, classified as Sub-dragons, stronger than ordinary fierce beast monsters, but lacking compared to true dragons.

The internal chaos of the Giant Wolf Knights settled slightly.

“Form a circle!”

Russell bellowed again.

The Giant Wolf Knights instantly contracted, forming a defensive formation, thrusting their steel spears skyward.

But the wyvern group craftily dispersed.

Three wyverns feigned an assault on the front while the others flanked from the sides.

The leading Two-legged Flying Dragon was robust, its face armor marked with menacing scars, about thirteen meters in length, its strength surpassing the other wyverns, and its hind limb scale armor was rough, claws sharp as if honed and tempered over time, its tail robust and long.

The Flying Dragon Leader’s sinister gaze locked onto Russell.

Its tail whipped, slicing through the air.

Russell could barely see a blur. He thrust his Battle Spear forward, but missed, and a sharp pain surged through his chest as his whole body was sent flying through the air.

The other wyverns scattered the knight formation, poised to begin their slaughter.

Just then, the entire valley suddenly darkened.

A deafening sonic boom sounded, like distant thunder being pulled to before their eyes.

The wyvern group trembled to a halt, abandoning their pursuit of the Giant Wolf Knights, looking up warily towards the sky.

A crimson meteor tore through the twilight, plummeting rapidly, flapping its wings fiercely at a distance of a hundred meters above ground.

Solid waves of shock rippled out, sweeping dirt and stones from the ground, bending branches and tops, and blowing the wyvern group into disarray.

The Red Iron Dragon did not immediately attack but hovered a hundred meters in the air, its gaze sweeping across the wyvern group.

After the demonstration, he succinctly said, “Inferior breeds! Kneel!”

The profound Dragon Power pressed down.

One by one, the flying dragons tucked their tails, lowered their heads, folded their wings to land on the ground, then spread their wings again, pressing their entire bodies close to the ground to express their submission and reverence.

In the face of a true dragon stronger than themselves.

Almost all Sub-dragons, due to the innate bloodline suppression, are devoid of any ideas of resistance and will immediately submit.

However, ’almost all’ does not mean all, there are exceptions.

In any group, there are always individuals who are brave and fearless.

That scar-faced flying dragon actually let out a challenging scream, speaking in Dragon Language.

“The strong do not hold bloodlines in reverence! I only submit to those stronger than I!”

The Two-legged Flying Dragons are intelligent creatures, with human-like intelligence, though they dislike organizing words when facing weaker beings.

Its voice was relatively sharp, its appearance was female, yet it was rare in strength and fierceness, and even dared to bare its fangs in front of a true dragon, defiant and unruly.

Galos’ body length was about the same, but its rugged, strong build made it fearful.

Yet in its eyes, this was only one factor in determining victory or defeat; the mature flying dragon, over two hundred years old, believed its battle and hunting skills honed through countless trials would not be inferior to the young dragon before it.

And then.

The scar-faced flying dragon, instead of retreating, charged fiercely at Galos.

Galos remained calm, waiting for its attack.

He intended to subdue the opponent, and the simplest and most direct way was to shatter its arrogance and confidence head-on.

The scar-faced flying dragon’s charge carried precision honed from years of hunting.

When it got within about ten meters of Galos, its body suddenly flipped, with a pair of sturdy claws tearing towards Galos.

The Two-legged Flying Dragons stand only on their two feet, with naturally strong hind legs, adept at using their claws.

The left claw targeted Galos’ wing membrane joint, while the right claw aimed straight for the Dragon Eyes; the whole movement was as fluid as flowing water, a killing move refined through countless life-and-death battles.

Galos did not dodge but instead reached out with his claw to meet the flying dragon’s assault.

Though his claw strike speed was clearly not fast, the trajectory seemed simple, yet it managed to pass through the flying dragon’s two feet appropriately, even striking first and landing on the Flying Dragon Leader’s chest, making it the first to verify its combat skills.

Previously, Galos relied mainly on pure power in battle.

But now, it was a combination of strength and skill.

He could better utilize power and speed.

Boom!

The Flying Dragon Leader, as if struck by lightning, its body like a severed kite, was knocked back against the mountain wall, creating a dent and web-like cracks.

The scar-faced flying dragon spat out a mouthful of acid blood, yet still roared as it lunged again.

This time it switched to sweeping with its tail, the sturdy Dragon Tail tearing the air, aiming directly at Galos’ neck.

The venomous tail spike stabbed towards Galos’ eyeball.

But when it was only inches from the eyeball, it could no longer advance.

Galos’ hand had grasped the tail of the flying dragon; its tail struggled like a large python but couldn’t escape the grip of the Red Iron Dragon’s claw.

The Flying Dragon Leader wanted to kick towards Galos with its claws, but its body would not obey its commands.

Galos lifted its tail, swung it around in circles.

After dozens of rotations, he abruptly let go, throwing it against the mountain wall.

With a thunderous crash, the rock wall was slammed into a deep pit, the scar-faced flying dragon embedded like a mural amid the rubble.

When it struggled to climb out, its vision filled with the rugged, vicious visage of the Red Iron Dragon, close at hand.

“Submit or die.”

Galos briefly gave the choice, his voice calm, yet without room for negotiation.

Opposite, the scar-faced flying dragon’s chest heaved violently, breath ragged.

The pain of being smashed into the rock wall scattered its thoughts a bit.

Once it regained its senses, it saw its twisted, deformed right claw.

The hunting weapon it prided itself on now drooped at a strange angle, oozing blue-black blood from the scales’ crevices; its proud combat skills held no worth before him, and its physical attributes weren’t even in the same tier — despite having a similar body size, it couldn’t at all withstand Galos’ strength.

Being shattered in the front had dismantled all its arrogance.

“I……..”

The flying dragon’s throat squeezed out a hoarse sound.

“My name is Tasha.”

“I am willing to build your throne with flesh and blood, to pave your conquest with bones.”

In the end, it lowered its head, exposing the most vulnerable neck scales to Galos’ claw, the posture of complete submission for a Sub-dragon.

Here in this valley, with the flying dragons’ submission, it was officially taken over by the Ignatius Brothers.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep