When the image of a graceful and beautiful adult silver dragon floated into Garon's mind, he didn't rush to set out immediately.
Mainly because Garon wasn't in a hurry.
Regardless of what was connected to the other end of the Red Flame Staff, it wasn't something that required his immediate attention.
After his recent period of deep slumber and growth, Garon found himself becoming more detached towards many things.
His desire to understand what was on the other side was merely out of mild curiosity, not urgent.
Garon half-closed his eyes, dismissing the image of Luna in shimmering silver, and began picturing pages upon pages of spell models revolving slowly in his mind, all variations of the Fireball spell.
Their main difference lay in the complexity of the models; the most complex, a ninth-level spell, required runes dense as sand in water, numerous as stars in the sky.
Constructing high-level spell models was akin to building skyscrapers in the mind, using materials, steel, and infrastructure that had to be vividly imagined.
Without sufficient mental power, one shouldn't even think about high-level spells.
Before using the Dragon Soul Stone, Garon's mental power was only sufficient for mastering spells up to the fourth level; he had failed multiple attempts at inscribing fifth-level spell models.
Despite the elemental energies favoring him, without adequate mental power to construct spell models, these energies, no matter how favorable, were useless; it all depended on his capabilities.
Garon recalled details about the fifth-level Magma Fireball from Mordenkainen's notes—the runes and base incantations, the twists in mental pathways...
He concentrated, beginning to inscribe the Magma Fireball spell model in his mind.
Under such focused mental activity, time always seemed to pass quickly.
It felt like just a blink of an eye, and half a day had passed.
And Garon hadn't fully succeeded yet.
Not because of insufficient mental power, but due to his lack of proficiency. He couldn't perfectly inscribe the spell model on his first try. There would always be minor issues, like a rune skewed slightly, rendering the entire spell model ineffective, necessitating a restart.
"All are fifth-level spells, but the number of runes and the complexity of the Magma Fireball model are much higher than those of the Thunderstorm spell."
Garon opened his eyes, pondering the insights gained from half a day's work.
Magic was never easy to learn.
Originally, it appeared as miracles that could be cast only under the most coincidental circumstances without any patterns.
Over time, as spellcasters researched and refined these spells, magic became a power that could be manifested in a fixed way, turning unpredictable magic into a rigorous body of knowledge.
Only creatures with sufficient wisdom and intelligence could grasp the brilliance of magic and become spellcasters.
Zero-level cantrips, Garon could inscribe their models almost instantaneously. But with each increase in spell level, constructing models in his mind required more focus and precision, allowing no distractions.
Spending years to master a single spell wasn't unusual for a spellcaster.
Garon broke from his concentrated state because he felt hungry.
His super-large dragon body required massive amounts of food; he had to consume at least two to three times his body weight in one go to satisfy a week's worth of activity.
He slowly moved to the edge of his lair and looked down, taking in the scenery of the ice cliffs territory.
Due to that battle with the human army, the number of followers in his view had significantly decreased.
Although some followers like the White Hounds and the Terror Lizards had bred over the five months, they hadn't matured yet, and weren't considered combat-ready; they even required some effort to care for and nurture.
The number of adult Ice Spirits had also decreased, reducing the size of the hunting teams.
However, following Garon's instructions, the Ice Spirits had begun breeding some of the more docile beasts of the northern ice plains. After five months, this had already yielded some results, compensating for the hunting teams' reduction, and was even more efficient.
The quality, however, had dropped somewhat.
The only ones still able to provide high-quality food for Garon were the fierce frost tigers, and soon, the winter wolves of the Wolfheart Clan.
After some thought, Garon flapped his wings, leaving his lair to land at the Ice Spirit tribe's settlement.
Two polar bear cubs, their fluffy fur diminished and their coats now pure white, saw Garon after a long absence and immediately lit up with excitement, rushing towards him.
Now two meters tall, they were beginning to resemble northern polar bears in stature.
Their robust limbs and sharp teeth and claws, along with a faint elemental glow and dragon-like aura, marked their development.
The cubs ran and rolled up to Garon, circling his dragon claws and rubbing their heads vigorously against him.
Garon handled the polar
bear cubs carefully to avoid accidentally crushing them.
With his strength and the sharpness of his claws, he could easily kill the cubs without meaning to.
After playing with the two giant polar cubs of the northern ice plains, Garon shooed them away and summoned Roy Icestream.
"Roy, gather the Ice Spirits who participated in the war."
"As a reward, I've decided to enhance their draconic lineage."
"But there's a certain risk involved, and it's up to you to decide whether you're willing to take it."
Garon's power had increased rapidly; expecting these followers to develop their draconic lineage to keep pace with him was impractical.
Such a significant enhancement, coupled with their battle-hardened service, justified a large-scale draconic transformation in Garon's view.
Roy Icestream looked up at Garon with awe and gratitude, exclaiming, "Thank you, Master!"
Seeing Garon's growth to a staggering twenty meters in length, the brilliance of the super-large dragon bathed in sunlight was awe-inspiring, no matter how many times Roy saw it.
As one of the first followers to join Garon when he was only six meters long, Roy Icestream knew better than anyone how fast this great true dragon had grown.
It was almost inconceivable, even slightly against the natural order, how quickly Garon had developed.
A powerful true dragon overlord was good for those living under his wings.
But as a follower, Roy Icestream didn't want to feel useless. Even if Garon would never abandon them out of sentiment for their early allegiance, it was unsettling not to be able to contribute meaningfully.
Undergoing another round of draconic transformation to enhance their strength was the quickest way to do so.
The risks Garon mentioned wouldn't deter any of the Ice Spirits from seizing the chance to improve themselves.
With a look of loyalty and devotion, Roy Icestream watched as Garon performed the draconic transformation on all the Ice Spirits who had fought in the battle.
Due to the intense effect of Garon's dragon blood, even though it was significantly diluted, about one-fifth of the Ice Spirits exploded and died during the transformation.
They were intelligent enough, but physically fragile.
Subsequently, these Ice Spirits fell into a deep sleep.
After eating several mighty mammoths and a host of now-domesticated creatures like the giant-hoofed muskox, ice moose, spiral-horned snow sheep, and more, Garon's draconic stomach was somewhat sated.
He had intended to enhance the fierce frost tigers as well, but they were out hunting, and no frost tigers were present in the ice cliffs territory.
Thus, Garon flapped his wings and made a trip to the Ogre Basin. Amidst the grateful words of Uga Bonecrusher, he performed the draconic transformation on the ogres of the Bonecrusher tribe who had participated in the battle.
The strong and tough ogres mostly withstood the violent power of the dragon blood.
Only less than a tenth of them died, while the others successfully overcame the risk and were about to obtain even stronger draconic physiques.
After these activities, Garon returned to his lair in the ice cliffs, clearing his mind and focusing entirely on learning spells.
Unbeknownst to him, three days passed.
It wasn't until a familiar draconic might swept over the ice cliffs territory, causing Garon to shift his gaze and end his intense three-day focus.
He turned to look outside the lair, noticing that the sunlight had vanished at some unknown point.
The night sky had quietly taken over, cloaking the firmament. The sun had retreated behind the scenes, and countless stars stretched across from north to south, forming a slowly flowing, magnificent galaxy.
After Garon's five months of sleep and about a week, the midnight sun had given way to polar night.
The dark night would dominate the northern ice plains for half a year, until the sun rose again six months later and the light dispelled the darkness.
The familiar draconic might swept past Garon and then was retracted by its owner.
This draconic might belonged to the White Dragoness.
"What is she doing here?"
Garon turned to look at his reflection in the ice crystal walls—his silver-scaled, enormous form.
He couldn't help but start imagining the White Dragoness's shocked expression when she saw him.
A minute or two after the draconic might swept through, the young white female dragon appeared in Garon's view.
Since draconic might was akin to knocking on the door, and Garon hadn't strictly forbidden entry after sensing it, the White Dragoness folded her wings and landed at the edge of the ice cliffs lair, stepping inside.
As she saw the significantly enlarged ice cliffs lair, the White Dragoness snorted, a puff of white frost escaping her lips.
"Garon, why did you make your lair so big?"
"With your little body, don't you find such
a large space cold and desolate?"
The White Dragoness turned her head, looking around the expanded lair.
It was much larger than when she had lived there.
Obviously, because she was focused on the lair and sizing it up, she hadn't noticed the super-large figure deep within.
After hearing the White Dragoness's mocking laughter, Garon remained expressionless, slowly standing up as his wings stretched out to either side.
As Garon moved, the light inside the lair dimmed slightly, his body casting a shadow that gradually extended in front of the White Dragoness.
The White Dragoness finally realized something was amiss.
She looked down at the shadow stretching towards her, then felt the oppressive aura in front of her, her body stiffening instantly.
"No way, it's only been five months, he couldn't have gotten stronger again..." The White Dragoness harbored a dreadful guess.
She swallowed nervously, reining in her mocking expression, then slowly lifted her head to look at the silver dragon in the depths of the lair.
As her gaze rose, the features of the other dragon gradually became clear.
Four thick, towering horns like spears, robust dragon claws that seemed capable of shaking the earth, and a body covered in metallic silver scales. Most critically, that was a super-large dragon body reaching twenty meters in length!
The White Dragoness, sixteen meters long, used to be much larger than Garon.
But now, she seemed petite and delicate in front of him.
The White Dragoness's eyes widened in disbelief.
Dragons primarily recognize each other through their aura. Despite Garon's changed appearance, which now included silver scales and a much larger body, she was certain the super-large dragon before her was her nefarious son.
She instinctively gasped, looking at Garon with an expression of shock mixed with numbness, "It can't be real, Garon, are you using some illusion spells from the School of Illusion?"
The White Dragoness, trying to deceive herself and others, brightened when she thought of this explanation, baring her dragon teeth and loudly saying in Draconic, "Don't cast illusions on me!"
Her draconic might surged as the White Dragoness shook her head, trying to dispel what she believed to be Garon's 'illusion.'
Garon quietly watched her 'freak out,' amused.
It wasn't until the White Dragoness realized she wasn't under any illusion and that what she saw was real, and after regaining some of her senses, did Garon calmly say, "Salya, what are you doing here?"
"If I remember correctly, I told you last time that there would be a cost for coming to my territory."
The White Dragoness seemed not to hear Garon's words. She stared blankly at Garon, seemingly recalling something, then suddenly raised her voice in excitement, "I knew it, I knew it!"
Garon looked at the increasingly neurotic White Dragoness with a frown.
"What do you know?"
Could it be that this silly dragon suddenly realized he was a Time Dragon?
The White Dragoness laughed heartily, then looked at Garon with a sure gaze, firmly stating, "Garon, you are indeed not my offspring!"
Garon looked puzzled, unsure what to say.
He had thought too highly of her; a silly dragon wouldn't suddenly become wise.
"What are you talking about?"
Garon was clueless about the White Dragoness's bizarre idea.
The White Dragoness thought for a moment, seemingly recalling something unpleasant, and said through gritted teeth, "There was a despicable Crystal Dragon who sneaked into my lair while I was away, trying to mess with my eggs."
"I thought I had returned in time to prevent her from succeeding."
"But now it seems that might not be the case."
Garon was speechless for a moment, unsure what to say.
The White Dragoness grew more excited as she continued, "No white dragon grows like you do, so fast, and now with those beautiful horns and silver scales... I've never seen a white dragon like you."
"Even if it's an aberrant white dragon, it shouldn't change so drastically."
Pausing, feeling very smart, the White Dragoness finally concluded, her words filled with excitement.
"So, it must be that Crystal Dragon who switched my eggs."
"Garon, you are not my descendant; we have no blood relation!"