Chapter 45: Knocked Out and Carried Away

Amidst the storm-like barrage of dragon punches, the White Dragon Mother appeared pitifully small and helpless. She repeatedly tried to counterattack, to use her spell-like abilities to escape this embarrassing situation, but Garon disrupted her efforts time and again. Even though her abilities didn't require chanting, the disorientation from the beating scattered her focus and made it difficult to perform.

After enduring several seconds of humiliation, the White Dragon Mother, fueled by a mix of shame and rage, managed to suppress the overwhelming dizziness. Gritting her teeth, she quickly opened her mouth at Garon, who was thoroughly enjoying the beatdown.

Given the nearly mature physical resilience and vitality of the White Dragon Mother, she was akin to an ideal punching bag for him. Yet, he remained vigilant.

Noticing that the White Dragon Mother had shaken off the dizziness and was opening her mouth towards him, Garon narrowed his eyes, ready to unleash his time control powers. 

However, the next action of the White Dragon Mother tightened Garon's gaze; instead of the anticipated energy of a Frost Dragon Breath, she cunningly curled her tongue and unrolled a scroll from beneath it. 

Dragon tongues, richly innervated and similar in construction to that of lizards, can perform incredible feats of flexibility far surpassing the dexterity of a human hand. Many dragons liked to carry their most treasured possessions wrapped in their tongues.

Garon noticed a distinct elemental aura on the scroll, clearly indicating it was a magical artifact. Likely, it was a spell scroll, and given its prized status to the White Dragon Mother, it probably contained a high-level spell.

Garon could not allow the White Dragon Mother to use the scroll.

Although her movements were swift, his were swifter.

"Time, stop!" Instantaneously, the swirling snowstorm halted.

The White Dragon Mother froze mid-action, her mouth slightly open, her pink, moist tongue clutching the scroll, her eyes filled with evident shame and anger.

With a snort, Garon unceremoniously reached forward, bypassing the interlacing dragon teeth to snatch the scroll from her mouth, inadvertently getting a hand covered in her saliva. Despite this, the scroll itself, made of some unknown material, remained pristine and silky to the touch.

After securing the scroll, time resumed its flow.

Unaware of what had transpired, the White Dragon Mother bore a smug expression, roaring triumphantly, "Garon! You cannot defeat me!"

Her voice was filled with the thrill of an imminent turnaround.

But her words froze as she noticed something amiss—the scroll was missing from her tongue.

The smugness on the White Dragon Mother's face stiffened as she frantically searched her mouth with her tongue but found no trace of the scroll.

Meanwhile, Garon, with a slight smile, held up the pale yellow scroll in his claw, asking, "Looking for this?"

The White Dragon Mother made a grab for it, but Garon knocked her head aside with a claw, draining her of any remaining resistance.

Tucking away the scroll, Garon shook his head and sighed, his tone tinged with pity, "You didn't even notice when the scroll was taken from you, Sulia. You're too weak. How could you have given birth to a superior true dragon like me?"

The White Dragon Mother glared at Garon, feeling a crushing sense of humiliation and shame.

Tears began to well up in her eyes—despite being a dragon, she was of an age equivalent to a young human girl, not yet mature or emotionally stable.

This ordeal was a lot for her to bear, and likely, few dragons had ever endured such an experience.

Garon initially felt a surge of vengeful satisfaction, but seeing the White Dragon Mother on the verge of tears, he also felt a twinge of guilt, as if he were bullying her—despite her initially heartlessly exiling him with such contempt.

"You, you, you—" She couldn't even finish her sentence before the combined physical and emotional toll caused her eyes to roll back as she fainted on the spot.

Garon blinked, surprised she had reached her limit.

Indeed, while he had held back, the series of punches to her head had tested her resilience. It was only now, after so much abuse, that she finally passed out—her robust dragon physique had kept her conscious for longer than any ordinary magical creature, which would have been reduced to a mere smear by now.

"Hmph, that's for exiling me."

Hesitating briefly, Garon then struggled to lift the unconscious White Dragon Mother and flew up into the icy dragon's lair.

From the outset of their altercation to the White Dragon Mother being knocked down twice and then subjected to a beating before being carried back to the lair, all was witnessed by three young dragons with expressions of utter shock.

Throughout, they had dared not intervene,

 fearing being accidentally crushed in the fierce battle between their sibling and mother.

Now they stood dumbfounded, hardly believing their eyes.

"Mother got knocked out by Garon."

Charles swallowed hard.

"Why has Garon grown so fast? Even Mother can't beat him," Tom said with a touch of envy.

"I remember something unpleasant," Hill shuddered, recalling their past fear of Garon's dominance.

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know."

For the moment, they dared not enter the icy dragon's lair, nor stray too far, their expressions blank.

Looking around at the familiar icy walls and floor, a nostalgic smile crossed Garon's face.

"This place looks the best. It's mine now."

He then set the White Dragon Mother's body aside, his gaze thoughtful.

Garon had been driven by a desire for revenge against the White Dragon Mother who had cast him out, but now that he had defeated her, he was unsure how to proceed.

Should he steal her gems right in front of her, boast about having taken one at birth, then beat up her other children?

Outside the icy dragon's lair, the three young dragons shivered in unison, perplexed.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Garon was distracted by the very treasure of the White Dragon Mother that he had long coveted.

Crystals, agates, jades, diamonds—gems of various colors, magical artifacts glowing with elemental light, and fine weapons and armor all reflected light from the icy walls, catching Garon's eye.

His eyes sparkled as he delivered another punch to the White Dragon Mother's head to ensure she wouldn't awaken too soon, then turned his attention to the treasures that now belonged to him.

However, as he closely inspected the treasures, the initial excitement in his eyes faded, replaced by confusion.

So many gems, yet the surrounding elemental energy seemed insufficiently active.

What was going on?

With this question in mind, Garon approached the pile of gems and pawed at it.

The outer layer of gems cascaded down, their crisp clinking sounds in Garon's ears like the most beautiful symphony.