Chapter 95: Despicable Dragon Behavior

In the icy cliffs territory, the scene, although somewhat bleak from previous wars with human armies, was now buzzing with activity.

Two massive white dragons, arctic spirits, ogres, gnolls, a plethora of magical creatures, ferocious beasts, fierce species, and the lowest-ranked minotaur tribe of the Ironback clan were all present. Once the mining team was ready, Garon became restless, his mind drifting to the white crystal mines still located within the frost giant tribe's territory.

White crystal, a type of magic gem with cold properties.

These semi-transparent clean gems shone like ice crystals. When light passed through the white crystals, they reflected dazzling colors around them, making them a favorite among cold-loving creatures.

The first magic gem that Garon consumed in his life as a dragon was a white crystal, borrowed from the white dragoness.

After consuming the white crystal, the sensation of cold magic surging within him, along with the constant alertness for the white dragoness's return, was still vivid in his memory, as if it had happened just yesterday.

Having a certain lineage of white dragon blood, Garon had a preference for white crystals.

Upon learning from the white dragoness about the white crystal mine, he was determined to seize it completely.

The Bonecrusher clan's ogres had gathered in the icy cliffs territory precisely to prepare for the upcoming seizure of the mine.

The winter wolves were now located in the snow ridge pine forest because it was eastward, closer to the frost giant tribe.

Garon had sent them to scout the frost giant tribe. Their petite size and formidable strength made them inconspicuous scouts, and since the frost giants had a tradition of hunting cooperatively with winter wolves, being discovered would not directly provoke a conflict.

According to Wolf Evil, a frost giant had once approached the Wolfheart tribe seeking to establish a cooperative relationship, but he had rejected it.

The frost giants, not furious after being rejected by the winter wolves, calmly returned to their tribe and seldom visited the snow ridge pine forest afterward. The frost giants did not intend to persist in challenging a single tribe.

However, although his followers were already gathering in preparation, Garon did not act immediately.

He wanted to master a sixth-level transmutation spell, the blazing fireball, to let those blue-skinned frost giants taste the flavor of fire.

True giants and true dragons, being eternal enemies, harbored a hatred carved into their bloodlines and souls. Garon, having accepted the dragon's legacy, had no fondness for them either.

This animosity was not limited to the prime material plane.

In the star realms or other dimensions, ancient dragons and ancient giants never ceased their brutal conflicts, engaging in deadly combat upon meeting.

However, the sixth-level fireball spell, a variant from Mordenkainen's repertoire, was not easy to master, and Garon felt it would take a significant effort to learn it within a short period.

He decided that if he could not master the blazing fireball within a week, he would no longer wait.

Meanwhile, a familiar dragon might swept across the territory, causing all creatures to instinctively look up. Upon seeing a flash of white dragon shadow, they simply lowered their heads and continued with their tasks.

Inside his dragon lair, Garon felt a headache coming on as the lithe and graceful white dragoness entered.

The white dragoness, bringing Garon's favorite prey, walked lightly to his side and asked softly in Draconic, "Are you preparing to make a move on the frost giant tribe?"

Being a frequent visitor to Garon's territory, she was quite familiar with the gathering of his followers and sensed their readiness for the upcoming battle.

Garon nodded without any pretense and began eating the prey she had brought, right in front of her.

He was indeed a bit hungry.

Due to the white dragoness's frequent visits, Garon had grown accustomed to her comings and goings.

Normally, Garon should have outright rejected the white dragoness's gift-giving.

But the problem was, the prey she brought was exactly what he liked to eat.

Since those prey were top hunters in the arctic plains, even Garon's fierce frost tigers and winter wolves had difficulty bringing him one every day.

The white dragoness catching such prey daily required considerable effort.

Garon exerting himself to hunt would take time and energy; receiving food delivered directly was far more comfortable.

Faced with this sugar-coated cannonball, ultimately, Garon decided to maintain a cold demeanor, consume the sugar coating, reject the cannonball, and let her give up on her own.

Given the white dragoness's personality, she wouldn't persist long before giving up.

"It won't be long before that mine is mine."

Garon munched on the frozen large prey, his Draconic speech slightly muffled.

The white dragoness ground her dragon teeth, her tail restlessly swishing across the icy floor.

She said disple

asedly, "Can't you include me? I am a mature dragon after all, dealing with a few frost giants shouldn't be a problem. Just give me some white crystals afterward."

Garon shook his head, swallowing the food in his mouth, "My subordinates' strength is sufficient; I don't need you."

The white dragoness's strength was not enough to make a difference against the frost giants.

Pausing, he eyed the white dragoness's sleek, not rough, scales, "Besides, strictly speaking, you are still a young dragon, don't presume yourself a mature one."

The white dragoness's eyes widened, her breathing became heavy, and she looked unhappy.

Garon continued to eat, enjoying his meal without speaking further.

Beside him, the white dragoness snorted coldly and then swiftly grabbed the half-eaten prey from Garon, angrily declaring, "I won't let you eat it!"

Her expression cold, she took the remaining sizable portion of the prey, flapped her wings, and flew away from the lair without waiting for Garon to ask her to stay.

Garon had no intention of asking her to stay either.

Inside the dragon lair, he watched the departing white dragoness.

On one hand, he felt relieved that the white dragoness, given his deliberate cold treatment, was probably going to give up on any untoward thoughts towards him, which was something to be thankful for.

On the other hand, he felt slightly regretful about losing a daily meal.

"Give her some white crystals after taking the mine, as a reward for this time," Garon thought as he shook his head, shifting his focus from the departing white dragoness back to his spell learning.

After the white dragoness left, Garon concentrated on engraving the spell model in his mind.

The sixth-level transmutation spell, blazing fireball.

As the spell level increased, the difference in power between each level became more significant, involving more runes and magical circuits, naturally requiring stronger mental power, more focused concentration, and awareness.

Following this awakening, Garon's mental strength had also significantly improved, fully capable of supporting him through sixth-level spells.

He even felt qualified to learn ninth-level spells.

However, the problem was that normal spellcasters mastered a vast array of spells of a certain level, built a solid foundation, and gained a deeper understanding of the principles of magic before proceeding to learn higher-level spells.

Garon's sources of knowledge were limited. The content in Mordenkainen's notes was deeper for higher-level spells but lacked basics.

Books previously obtained from two-headed ogres were no longer sufficient to support Garon at this stage.

He wanted to take it step by step, but circumstances did not permit it.

Three days later, on a windy night with fluttering snow and bright moonlight, he had managed to engrave less than a quarter of the spell model in one go.

For his first encounter with sixth-level spells, this pace was slow for him and unsatisfactory, but it was terrifyingly fast for a normal spellcaster.

Any spellcaster, in their lifetime, would have perused a vast amount of books. The dozen or so books Garon had read were fewer than what even an apprentice spellcaster might study.

Due to the lack of sufficient foundational knowledge, learning the sixth-level blazing fireball was more challenging than Garon had anticipated.

He had a premonition that if he continued to focus solely on research, he would just get stuck and need a lot of time to learn the spell.

"Sigh, the progress is too slow."

"I still know too little about the basic principles; otherwise, the learning speed could be doubled."

"I need more basic spell books. Without foundational knowledge, it's even harder to master higher-level spells."

Garon rubbed his head, opened his eyes, and gazed southward towards the shadowy veil of the Dragonspine Mountains.

"I need to make a trip out to collect some spell books."

He had originally intended to master all the spells in Mordenkainen's notes before leaving the arctic plains.

But now, it seemed that staying in the arctic plains without gaining more knowledge, even if he barely managed to learn the blazing fireball, would ultimately make it very difficult to master higher-level spells.

Higher than the blazing fireball were seventh-level spells.

And seventh-level spells, already considered high-level magic, undoubtedly had significantly greater power than sixth-level spells, but their complexity was also much greater.

Realizing this, Garon no longer fixated on the blazing fireball.

He stretched his limbs, moved his body, then slowly walked out of the dragon lair, looking towards the silent and ominous arctic plains under the night sky.

Beneath this snow-covered world, untold bloodshed was hidden.

At that moment, the moonlight, like water, reflected off Garon's scales, adding a faint silver glow to his figure.

Garon turned his head, his gaze extending in all directions, soon focusing

 intently on something in his field of vision.

A winter wolf was speeding through the snow, leaving no traces, its body like a streak of white lightning, its fur billowing like waves in the howling wind.

Soon, the rushing winter wolf stopped, looked up at the silver dragon, and spoke.

This winter wolf was not Wolf Evil, the alpha of the Wolfheart tribe, but one of the first to admire Garon's power and join under his wings, Wolf Fierce.

A newly matured male winter wolf.

"Master, there's been no movement from the frost giants, still the same as always."

After saying this, Wolf Fierce hesitated before adding, "However, a white dragon attacked them, and instead, it was struck down and captured."

"It's the white dragon that's been frequently entering your territory."

Hearing this, Garon was initially stunned, then his expression darkened as he asked, "How is that white dragon doing, is she dead?"

He hadn't expected the white dragoness to be bold enough to attack the frost giant tribe alone.

The frost giants, being communal, were not beings a single white dragon could provoke.

It was feasible to kill an isolated giant opportunistically, but directly attacking their stronghold was akin to a moth flying into the flame.

What Garon didn't know was that after leaving the icy cliffs territory, the white dragoness, unable to sleep from her thoughts about Garon's indifference, grew increasingly angry the more she thought about it, eventually becoming consumed by rage.

On one hunting trip, as she flew over the frost giant tribe, her accumulated anger, coupled with her innate disdain for frost giants, spurred her to act rashly. She flew low and unleashed her frost breath on the giants, attempting to vent her frustration.

Her plan was to breathe out frost, hit them, and flee, just to annoy the frost giants and watch their agitated reactions from high above for amusement.

But the frost giants were not to be trifled with.

As enemies of the white dragons, they would not let the white dragoness escape so easily.

The solo white dragoness, having no followers, caught them somewhat off guard, and a few young frost giants were slightly injured by the frost breath. But once they regained their composure, the frost giants retaliated together, striking the escaping white dragoness from the sky before she could flee to higher altitudes.

For Garon, although he had once beaten the white dragoness, stolen her possessions and territory, he could not stand idly by and watch her be killed by other creatures.

Noticing Garon's dangerous look, Wolf Fierce shivered and quickly added, "No, the frost giants have captured the white dragon and locked her in a cage."

Rather than killing a white dragon outright, the frost giants preferred to capture them alive as trophies to display around.

One of their greatest desires was to tame a white dragon.

A frost giant who could tame a white dragon would receive the envious and admiring gaze of all its kin, greatly enhancing its status within the tribe.

Although the white dragoness was captured, her life was not in immediate danger.

Garon breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "When did this happen?"

Wolf Fierce didn't hesitate and replied, "Half an hour ago, we've been watching the frost giant tribe and came immediately to inform you after discovering it."

Although not fully understanding the specific relationship between the white dragoness and Garon, the highly intelligent magical creatures, the winter wolves, knew from her frequent visits and gifts that this matter needed to be reported to Garon immediately.

Garon's gaze became stern as he said, "The Wolfheart tribe has done well this time."

Wolf Fierce's expression brightened as he lowered his head, "It is an honor for the Wolfheart tribe to serve you."

Following this, Garon set up numerous magical alarms in the dragon lair, then summoned two white dragon guards, ferocious frost tigers, and fierce wolves, quickly heading towards the frost giant tribe.

Ordinary followers, ogres, gnolls, and arctic spirits followed closely behind.