Upon hearing Garon's threat, Hill displayed a hesitant expression, clearly weighing her options.
Meanwhile, Garon had already released the two pitiable dragon brothers on the snowy ground. Looking towards Hill, he declared, "I'll count to three, and if you haven't decided by then, I'll fly up and thrash you myself."
The next second, as Hill was still hesitating, Garon cracked a smile.
"Three!"
Boom! Garon's wings vibrated powerfully as he took a deep breath and shot upwards with incredible speed. By the time Hill realized what was happening, Garon had already flown in front of her, his massive head rising powerfully and then smashing down towards her dainty skull.
Normal dragon whelps couldn't hope to match Garon's speed in flight—a fact that even he had just discovered.
When he concentrated intensely, it seemed as if time around him sped up, making his movements connect like they were on fast-forward, incredibly swift as if under an acceleration spell.
**Duang!**
As their mirror-like scales collided, Hill, clutching her head, was knocked back several meters, yelping in pain, then yelled, "You moved at three, that's cheating!"
Garon chased after her, delivering a thorough beating as he retorted, "Exactly, I moved at three. What's wrong with that?"
Minutes later, Hill too was pinned down in the snow, belly up and pleading for mercy, acknowledging Garon's position as the boss.
"These dragon whelps, none of them listen without a beating," Garon mused as he stretched his limbs. Hill, Charles, and Tom, all with bruised faces, exchanged looks, seeing the schadenfreude in each other's eyes.
Yet, upon seeing their reflections in each other's scales, they couldn't help but glower at Garon.
**Bang, bang, bang!** Three punches later, Garon shook his clawed fist and warned, "Keep glaring, and I'll twist your heads crooked."
The three young dragons withdrew their necks, no longer daring to meet Garon's gaze directly.
Haughty by nature, young dragons are fearless, only respect force.
Humming a tune, Garon suddenly felt that life as a dragon was quite excellent. The spontaneous and power-respecting nature of evil dragons suited him well.
The four dragon whelps, now spread out within a kilometer of the dragon's nest, searched for prey.
Within the territory controlled by the White Dragoness, centered around the icy cliffside nest, large beasts or magically powerful creatures had either been expelled or killed by her, or turned into her subjects.
The closer to the nest, the safer it was.
Barring extremely unlucky circumstances, it was rare for whelps near the dragon nest to be killed.
Quickly, Garon's eyes lit up when he spotted a fox-wolf.
Fox-wolves were not magical beasts but bottom-feeders of the food chain, easily dominated by dragon whelps.
He dived, extending his claws toward the fox-wolf.
As Garon concentrated deeply, that sensation of accelerated time returned, increasing his speed.
The fox-wolf, sensing the presence of a predator, had barely begun to burrow into the snow when Garon's claws captured it, snapping its neck with a crisp crack.
The fox-wolf, about 1.5 meters in length, akin to a normal wolf, satiated Garon's hunger once devoured.
But he still felt hungry.
Given the rapid growth phase, dragon whelps have strong digestive capacities and get hungry quickly.
However, he wasn't in a hurry to continue hunting but rather pondered his abilities.
A week of hibernation not only increased his size but also bestowed upon him a time-acceleration ability.
This ability seemed passive, and Garon couldn't fully understand the mechanics behind it; he only knew that when he focused intensely, he gained about a 50% increase in speed.
It wasn't merely movement speed that increased.
It was as if time flowed faster around him, enhancing his overall speed by fifty percent, including attack speed, dodging speed, and reaction time.
As for the unintentional use of the Time Dragon's Reversal he had done before—borrowing time from his future self—Garon wanted to actively try to use it again.
But after several attempts, there were no results.
Based on his trials, he suspected it wasn't that he couldn't use it, but rather that his future self was too stingy to lend time.
"Never mind the Time Dragon's Reversal for now, I'll thoroughly study this time acceleration ability first."
With that thought, Garon resumed his search for prey, testing his newfound ability.
As half a day passed, and by all accounts, it should have been night, but the sky showed no signs of change.
This was due to the unique geographical conditions of the Arctic ice plains, where day and night cycle not in the usual 24-hour pattern, but in six-month intervals—half a year of polar day, where the sun never sets, followed by half a year of polar night, where darkness prevails.
Currently, it was the time of the polar day.
Garon looked somewhat weary, resting on the snowy ground which bore a faint dragon-shaped imprint from his landing. His gaze was thoughtful.
"The limit of the acceleration effect is one times normal speed, and it's under my control."
"Using it multiple times in quick succession doesn't strain my body, but it does tire my mind. It feels like the exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter when I was human, leaving my head groggy."
"I can only accelerate myself, not slow others down."
After gaining a basic understanding of his abilities, Garon thought about naming this power.
Before he could ponder further, a name emerged through the inherited memories in his mind: Time Manipulation.
Garon mused, "Called Time Manipulation, but why can it only accelerate me?"
He initially wanted to name it Time Acceleration, but since the ability already had an established name, he decided not to change it.
Time Manipulation could only be used for acceleration, and its limit was only doubling speed, perhaps because he had just mastered it. Garon hoped that maybe in the future he could develop it to match the grandeur its name suggested.
Now sated, Garon had hunted plenty using his ability to manipulate time. Although the creatures in this harsh region were agile and alert, even ordinary beasts sensed his presence but couldn't escape his pursuit.
Not lingering long, Garon headed back towards the dragon nest.
Before he reached the nest, he saw the two dragon brothers and his sister, all looking disheartened as if they had been struck by some misfortune.
Seeing Garon, Hill proactively asked, "Garon, how many prey did you catch?"
Garon frowned slightly, replying, "Are you looking for a beating? Call me Big Brother Garon."
Somewhat reluctantly, Hill murmured, "Big Brother Garon," and Garon then satisfied, answered, "Not many, about a dozen or so. Just fox-wolves, white tigers, and cold leopards."
"A dozen?" Charles's eyes widened.
"They're bluffing," Tom expressed disbelief.
Garon understood why the younger dragons seemed so downcast.
Probably, they hadn't caught much prey; hungry and frustrated, they felt defeated.
Yet, Garon found hunting fairly easy. Although these whelps were just born, they had the strength to tear apart tigers and leopards. Why couldn't they catch anything? Garon was puzzled.
Just then, a white python poked its head out from the snow, spotted by Hill.
Her eyes brightened, and she quickly accelerated, swooping down from the air towards the white python.
But before she could get close, the python, startled by her movement, darted into the snow like a frightened rabbit and disappeared in a flash.