The endless, cold, hard ice fields of the far north. Winter wolves stalk, frost tigers hiss and giants roar. ......... Many creatures brave the snowy skies to fight for survival. At the same time, a white dragon hatchling with the power of time breaks out of its shell and... ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.
The small glacier was about fifteen kilometers from Garon's current position. At his full speed, it wouldn't take long to reach.
However, since he had left the safe territory of the White Dragoness, Garon remained extremely cautious. He retracted his dragon aura and controlled his flying speed to prevent causing howling winds or loud noises that might attract the attention of powerful beings.
But about five kilometers into his flight, and still ten kilometers away from the glacier, trouble found him.
A giant eagle, with a wingspan even larger than Garon's ten meters, soared above him. Noticing Garon, it paused briefly in its rapid flight and then dove towards him without a second thought.
Garon heard the movement and looked up.
The creature, adorned in white feathers with wings that stirred fierce winds, entered his line of sight.
A magical creature, the White Feather Frost Eagle.
Garon's heart tightened, but he was not overly anxious.
He had encountered magical creatures before within the White Dragoness's territory. Although there were no extremely powerful magical creatures there, he had encountered and killed several over the past year, including minor creatures like brittle ice snakes and wind spitters.
This White Feather Frost Eagle, however, was a large creature that appeared even bigger than Garon at first glance.
**Whoosh!**
Amidst a piercing sound of tearing through the air, the eagle approached like a fighter jet, immediately generating a chilling wind mixed with countless tiny ice needles raining down towards Garon.
"Just a feathered beast."
"I don't like trouble, but that doesn't mean I'm easy to mess with."
"Perfect, I'll test my new ability on you."
Garon didn't want to draw significant attention, fearing to alert creatures as powerful as the White Dragoness, but he was not concerned about the eagle before him.
He snorted lightly and opened his dragon mouth, aiming at the incoming eagle.
Instead of the expected frosty breath of a white dragon, nothing seemed to come out, causing the eagle to hesitate slightly—it looked as though Garon was just panting.
Is this little white dragon dumb?
The White Feather Frost Eagle thought curiously.
Suddenly, an invisible and intangible linear wave swept across the eagle.
It screamed in terror, its body rapidly losing strength, its eyes clouding over, and its usually bright feathers dulled. Its magic flow turned sluggish and hard to maintain, while it also suffered indescribable energy damage, feathers tearing and flesh splattering.
This was Garon's newly acquired time dragon ability, a breath attack called Plundering the Threads of Time.
This linear, invisible breath was hard to see with the naked eye and, being a supernatural ability, difficult to detect with standard magic detection.
The eagle, regaining its senses, hastily tried to dodge out of the attack's range.
Garon closed his mouth, feeling the significant energy drain from using the Threads of Time and chose not to continue pursuing with his breath. Instead, he activated time manipulation to accelerate his own movements.
His bodily movements, now twice as fast, became incredibly agile and quick, incongruent with his large form.
The chill wind and ice needles brushed past Garon as he skillfully dodged them.
Then, heavily wounded by the Threads of Time, the eagle only saw a blur before Garon's figure was upon it.
"This is for the ambush!"
Garon struck with his claws in a swift, ear-splitting motion, his doubled speed making his attacks extraordinarily fast, hitting the eagle's head with great force.
**Crack!**
Garon distinctly felt flesh and bone turn into pulp under his claws.
Seizing the headless corpse of the White Feather Frost Eagle, Garon landed on the ground and began to eat. The flesh of magical creatures was always nourishing.
While eating, Garon reflected on the battle.
The Threads of Time had two effects: it aged the target by two years per second, dependent on Garon's age—every additional year of his life added another year per second to the aging effect—and it dealt supernatural damage related to his age, difficult to block with standard magical shields or inherent magic resistance.
The ability's use primarily drained the accumulated time energy Garon had consumed, along with a complex ratio of various elemental energies.
Supernatural abilities, like spell-like abilities and magic abilities, are difficult to use in no-magic zones without an elemental energy basis.
"The main thing is, the opponent can't even see it coming."
After the eagle was hit and panickedly tried to dodge, it was too late.
"When I live to be a thousand years old, one breath will age the opponent by a thousand years per second—might they not just age to death?"
Garon was very pleased with the effect of Plundering the Threads of Time and happily finished eating the flesh of the White Feather Frost Eagle.
Reinvigorated, he continued his flight toward the small glacier, encountering no further incidents along the way. Following the direction of the small glacier's flow, Garon moved back and forth, eventually confirming that it stretched for about twenty kilometers. More importantly, he detected no trace of frost giants or other formidable magical creatures like winter wolves, blue-footed serpent dragons, or arctic behemoths nearby.
In the vicinity of this glacier, only smaller creatures like terror lizards, white hunting dogs, and tidal crabs inhabited the area. Though these creatures possessed minor spell-like abilities, they posed no threat to Garon.
"I could live under the glacier and use these creatures as vassals for surveillance," Garon thought. "This way, I wouldn't need to hunt personally all the time; I could have my vassals bring food to me."
"There are probably creatures living in the glacier too. I could..."
Garon looked over the winding river, already planning his future actions.
However, no matter how he considered it, the safest place was still within the territory of the White Dragoness. Setting up his own nest was merely a backup plan in case he needed to escape.
Moments later, he flapped his wings and returned toward the dragon nest.
"Sigh, White Dragoness, I'm just a little over a year old. I hope you're not too cruel," Garon thought, the six-meter-long dragon feeling somewhat anxious about his uncertain future.
After a while, he returned to the dragon nest.
The White Dragoness wasn't there, which relieved Garon. His dragon siblings were around, though, and the size difference between them and Garon was growing increasingly noticeable. They barely reached the size of a cow or horse, hardly a match for Garon now, especially after being disciplined by him several times.
"Come over here and massage my back," Garon commanded as he lay down, narrowing his eyes comfortably.
The two dragon brothers and his sister, although expressionless, moved expertly to his side and began kneading his back with their dragon claws. Their movements were fluid and practiced, a testament to the many times they had been subdued by Garon.
Garon closed his eyes in comfort, enjoying the true dragon massage, and slowly recuperated from the physical and mental exertions of his journey.
Soon, the White Dragoness returned, bringing with her a prey—a python over ten meters long with residual magical fluctuations on its body, another magical creature.
Garon immediately opened his eyes and moved forward to wait for his share of the meal.
The White Dragoness glanced at Garon, then at the three smaller dragons, who looked pathetic and weak compared to him. Her pale yellow dragon eyes gradually filled with an unusual emotion.
As she divided the prey, giving the largest portion to Garon as usual, the small dragons watched with a mix of jealousy and resignation. They knew their place in the pecking order and understood the harsh realities of dragon life under the White Dragoness's rule.
With each feeding, the dynamics within the nest subtly shifted, reflecting the survival of the fittest mentality so intrinsic to dragonkind.
Meanwhile, Garon, though now equipped with the formidable power of time manipulation and having established a tentative plan for independence, still harbored concerns about his immediate future under the White Dragoness's increasingly watchful eye. The balance between growing independence and reliance on his mother's protection was delicate, and the young time dragon knew he had to tread carefully as he continued to navigate the complex politics of his draconic existence.