"Silver Dragon?"
"Damnable Metal Dragon! You all deserve to die!"
"I'll tear you and that Brass Whelp into pieces!"
Upon discovering Garon, the 'Silver Dragon,' the Cobalt Dragon, driven by the deep-seated animosity the Heavy Metal Dragon clan harbors towards Metal Dragons, let out a deep, resonant roar from its throat, its voice thick with an unmistakable intent to kill.
The Silver Dragon is a powerful type of Metal Dragon.
This is beyond doubt, and the Cobalt Dragon is well aware of it.
However, this only applies if they are of the same age and size.
To the Cobalt Dragon, Garon's current incarnation, barely twenty meters in length and just reaching adulthood for a Silver Dragon, seems insignificant compared to its own robust twenty-five-meter-long mature body, with the Cobalt Dragon being over three hundred years old.
Faced with such a disparity in size, the Cobalt Dragon naturally entertained the thought of challenging the Silver Dragon.
However, to confront such a Silver Dragon, its mediocre mastery of magic was utterly useless.
The Cobalt Dragon's strongest asset was its Pulse Breath, capable of tearing through metal and steel, reducing them to shattered particles with formidable efficacy.
Yet, after releasing its breath, the Cobalt Dragon needed time to prepare for the next one.
Still, it was so eager to vent its hatred.
Thus, after a fierce roar, it violently flapped its wings, stirring up a gale and whipping up the surrounding sand, and charged at Garon with its massive body.
The body is another formidable weapon of the Heavy Metal Dragons.
Distinct from other True Dragons, Heavy Metal Dragons depend on various metals from birth until death.
They regard these metals as collectibles, food, and trophies. Every adult Heavy Metal Dragon has consumed vast amounts of metal ore, which promotes the development of their scales and bones.
All True Dragons understand this advantage, but for most, the taste of metal ore is unpalatable, akin to chewing wax.
Even though True Dragons can digest iron and stone with ease, they wouldn't choose to eat metal voluntarily.
Over time, a True Dragon's body naturally becomes stronger.
Why then subject oneself to the unpleasantness of consuming gritty metals? However, Heavy Metal Dragons find metal delicious.
And eating metal offers the greatest benefits to their scales and bones among all dragonkind.
As a result, Heavy Metal Dragons possess exceptional resilience in their physical form.
Some even grow metal keratin layers on their surfaces, resembling armor.
With wings fully extended for a charge, the Cobalt Dragon, like a metal warplane, its scales reflecting a cold metallic luster, exuded a daunting pressure.
Beside Garon.
The little Brass Dragon gasped for breath.
Feeling the overwhelming force emanating from the Cobalt Dragon, it almost couldn't breathe, fearfully shuffling its body to run behind Garon.
Garon's gaze shifted slightly, witnessing this scene.
"Poor Brass seems quite unlucky, encountering a mature dragon's pursuit in its accelerated state," Garon thought.
At the same time, the Platinum Dragon's pupils fixed on the Cobalt Dragon, shimmering with a metallic blue hue, devoid of any emotion.
The Heavy Metal Dragons were expelled from the Metal Dragon clan, but they still are a branch of the True Dragons. Though not as esteemed as the Metal, Chromatic, and Gem Dragons, they are generally quite powerful.
Garon had never killed any of his kin before.
True Dragons often clash, but death duels are rare.
Moreover, Garon's temperament had become gradually calm and deep, with the violent nature of the White Dragon almost entirely suppressed by the power of the Time Dragon. He naturally wasn't bloodthirsty; preferring subjugation over slaughter.
However, he would show no mercy towards the Cobalt Dragon in his sight.
Time's Reversal wasn't to be used lightly, only in dire threats to life, when all other means fail to escape a predicament, would it earn a response from the future Garon.
Through the vortex of the River of Time, Garon saw clearly.
The Cobalt Dragon intended to kill the Brass Garon.
A twenty-five-meter-long mature dragon using its breath attack against a mere six-meter-long Brass Whelp was unmistakably lethal in intent.
Garon wasn't fond of killing, but that didn't mean he wouldn't.
Otherwise, the Frost Giants buried in the far north—or rather, those no longer even having remains—would be the first to disagree.
Garon had already sentenced the Cobalt Dragon to death.
In the blink of an eye, as time seemed to slow, Garon watched the ferocious, roaring Cobalt Dragon without avertin his gaze, his voice deep, calm, and profound, instructing the Brass Garon, "Watch closely, this is how the power of time is used."
This statement wasn't Garon trying to mimic his future self.
In this situation, he wanted to provide the unfortunate Brass Garon with some insights and methods on utilizing the power of time, hence the reminder before using the power of time, encouraging him to observe and learn.
However, as soon as the words left his mouth, Garon realized he sounded almost exactly like his future self.
At their core, they shared the same soul.
The main difference was their timelines, making many aspects difficult to diverge.
Garon shook his head slightly, not dwelling on this.
Meanwhile, under the eager gaze of the Brass Garon and amidst the roars of the massive Cobalt Dragon, Garon's eyes narrowed.
Slow Spell.
The Cobalt Dragon's previously fierce charge suddenly became extremely sluggish, appearing as slow as a turtle to the dragons.
At the same time, a small, three-ring fireball emerged in front of Garon.
After absorbing Harlis's soul crystal, Garon's spiritual power had reached legendary levels. Now, casting a three-ring Fireball Spell no longer required chanting.
The pea-sized fireball hovered amid the sand, appearing quite ordinary.
The Brass Garon's eyes lit up at the sight of the Slow Spell, the drastic change from extreme speed to extreme slowness provided a strong visual impact, presenting an opposite force he wished to master.
But upon seeing the Fireball Spell, confusion appeared on the Brass Garon's face.
His look seemed to say, "That's it?"
However, quickly, upon sensing the shift in the power of time, the confusion in the Brass Garon's eyes vanished, replaced by shock and a hint of excited anticipation.
Sharing a similar expression was the Cobalt Dragon, now close by, less than two hundred meters from Garon—a distance considered face-to-face for mature dragons, fleeting in an instant.
Garon could clearly see the lingering cruel smile on the Cobalt Dragon's face.
And the rising fear.
Looking closely into the Cobalt Dragon's eyes, they reflected the image of the Silver Dragon, standing unmovable, solid as a rock.
Additionally, in front of Garon, were countless tiny red dots, like raindrops, each a pea-sized three-ring Fireball Spell.
Casting in Layers: Fireball Spell.
For such a three-ring Fireball Spell, the energy cost of casting in layers was negligible. Garon himself couldn't count how many spells he could replicate from the past second.
At the same time, sensing a heavy aura of death, the Cobalt Dragon's wings beat forward frantically, halting its high-speed charge abruptly, its innards suffering from the sudden stop.
The next moment, without hesitation, it turned to flee.
True Dragons don't have a tradition of fighting to the death.
Often, upon realizing they're no match for an opponent, dragons choose to flee quickly, memorizing the adversary's appearance and scent, to seek revenge once they've grown stronger.
But under the effect of the Slow Spell.
The Cobalt Dragon's movements appeared painfully slow to both Garon and the Brass Garon.
Watching the Cobalt Dragon's tense and hurried figure, Garon's face was expressionless.
With a thought, the fireballs erupted, tracing red arcs through the air.
A dense barrage of spells formed a red torrent between the Silver Dragon and the Cobalt Dragon, like a red storm surging from the horizon, leaving no chance for evasion.
The Cobalt Dragon's peripheral vision caught this terrifying sight.
Its pupils contracted, its heart pumped furiously, blood flowing faster than ever, as if about to burst its veins.
The rain of fireballs left no gaps, their scorching breath like the Grim Reaper's scythe, slicing towards the Cobalt Dragon's body.
In an instant, the bright fireballs landed on the Cobalt Dragon.
Every inch of its scales was enveloped in lethal luminescence.
Then, deafening explosions followed.
Boom, boom, boom. A series of blasts, flames soaring high, the air violently distorting and trembling, the resulting shockwave lifting the ground's sand, creating a rolling tsunami-like dust storm.
"Wow, that's impressive," came a gasp from the Brass, heard by Garon.
He nodded in satisfaction.
Garon wasn't a dragon who enjoyed flaunting his power.
But for some reason, showing off his skills in front of the weaker past self felt particularly gratifying.
Could it be that the future Garon's personality was as he had perceived?
Or was he also just pretending to be profound and skilled?
It seemed quite likely.
With this thought, Garon fell into brief contemplation.
Cough, cough, cough. Having inhaled too much sand, the Brass Garon coughed vigorously after snapping back to reality, spitting out the gritty particles from his mouth.
Countless fireballs exploded, engulfing the sand and the Cobalt Dragon's massive body in flames that continued to roll unabated, igniting a magnificent blaze in this desert world.
The firelight bathed the surroundings in red.
The Brass Garon, his face flushed, eyes sparkling, stared at the still-unfolding flames, hesitated, then asked Garon, "Can you do it again?"
"Let me feel the flow of time's power just now; maybe I can learn it."
"Hehe, we're all on the same side; you should satisfy this small request of mine, right? It's been tough for me here, being chased by Ferrous Dragons every day."
"I—"
Garon realized if he didn't respond, this chatterbox influenced by Brass Dragon blood might go on all day.
He immediately cut off the endless chatter.
"The future is filled with possibilities. The abilities I've shown you are merely a reference, a possible path."
"The specific exploration process requires your own effort."
He maintained a deep and profound tone.
"Alright then."
The Brass Garon appeared slightly disappointed but quickly regrouped.
He looked towards the direction of the engulfed Cobalt Dragon, murmuring softly, "These damn Ferrous Dragons, it hasn't been long since they were expelled from the Metal Dragon clan, and they're already seeking revenge. The Platinum Dragon God should have expelled them long ago."
As time passed, without the support of magic, the flames gradually extinguished, leaving a crystallized crater.
The once deep blue, massive Cobalt Dragon now lay motionless in the pit.
Its metallic scales had turned to the color of red-hot iron, emitting vast amounts of white smoke. As the temperature rapidly dissipated, the red hue faded, turning to a charred black.
The Brass Garon, looking at the Cobalt Dragon's demise, showed no sympathy.
He vehemently criticized the Ferrous Dragon clan's misdeeds.
Garon's attention, however, wasn't on the now-dead Cobalt Dragon.
The Brass Garon's words had caught his interest.
Just expelled from the Metal Dragon clan... Garon's gaze swept the surroundings.
His view encompassed the vast desert, windswept and sun-drenched.
How many years back in a parallel timeline have I come to?
Garon pondered.
Through the Dragon Legacy, he knew of the deep enmity between the Metal Dragons and the Heavy Metal Dragon clan, understanding that the Heavy Metal Dragons were expelled from the Metal Dragon clan.
But the specific reasons and details of such events were unclear to him.
Now, after giving it some thought, Garon grew curious.
Given the nature of the Platinum Dragon God, what could the Heavy Metal Dragon clan have done to warrant such targeted action?
Bahamut, the God of Good Dragons, possesses admirable qualities and wouldn't lightly punish an entire dragon lineage, especially one as significant as the Heavy Metal Dragons.
"What era is this?"
Garon's curiosity was piqued, asking aloud.
He had a strong desire to explore these buried secrets of the past.
The Brass Garon paused, not understanding Garon's question.
After a moment, scratching his head, the Brass Garon said, "Era? Hmm... there's no specific name; I don't know how to explain it."
Garon rephrased his inquiry, asking again, "How long has it been since the Dragonfall War?"
The Dragonfall War, recorded in the Dragon Legacy, occurred over 60,000 years ago from Garon's time, a monumental event etched in every dragon's heart. After all, the dragons' dominion was irreversibly lost post-war, making such a significant event unforgettable.
However, the Brass Garon's response sent a tremor through Garon's heart.
"What Dragonfall War?"
"We dragons rule all; other beings are mere servants to the True Dragons. How could we fall?"
"The only threat to dragons comes from other dragons."
The Dragonfall War hasn't happened yet—I've returned to over 60,000 years ago!
This was an unforeseen revelation for Garon.
Everything in his field of vision remained unchanged, but viewed through this new context, it seemed entirely different.
Garon's heart raced slightly as he suppressed his shock, maintaining his composure.
The Brass Garon wasn't foolish; he sensed the significance in Garon's words.
After piecing together the gravity of the situation, he became serious, ceasing his chatter, and solemnly said, "You come from the future, so you mean our dominion will be destroyed by a war?"
Speaking such words might alter this timeline... Garon's gaze shifted.
Changing the predetermined future seemed intriguing.
After a moment's thought, Garon calmly stated, "Yes, if you wish to avert this, remember to be wary of the giants."
Whether due to the Dragonfall War being too distant in the past or some other reason, the Dragon Legacy's records were vague and unclear. Garon knew only that giants were the main adversaries in the war that significantly weakened dragonkind.
Upon hearing Garon's words, the Brass Garon frowned.
"Those filthy giants living in barren plains, secluded in their corner?"
"That it's them, the future is unbelievable and hard to accept."
"But the future isn't a fixed path set in stone."
The Brass Garon's gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as if making a decisive resolution.
Knowing himself well, if Garon were in the Brass Garon's place, upon hearing such news, he'd likely be devising some rather unpleasant plans for the giants.
Whew!
A wave of hot air, laden with sand, swept by.
Garon's form had become much more translucent, gradually fading away.
This was merely an avatar formed by the power of time. As the energy was used up, and time passed, this avatar, devoid of the main body's time power, was being assimilated and absorbed by the current River of Time.
Realizing his avatar was about to dissipate and the time power about to scatter, Garon recalled his initial curiosity and quickly asked, "What exactly caused the Heavy Metal Dragons to be expelled from the Metal Dragon clan?"
The Brass Garon was still absorbed in thoughts about the Dragonfall War.
Upon hearing Garon's question, he looked up, responding reflexively, "Don't you know? That Primordial Iron Dragon Tyrant, who arrogantly claimed to be the all-knowing, all-powerful Supreme Dragon, the Ferrous Dragon King, grew so overconfident that... Hm?"
"Where's the dragon?"
Before he could finish, the Silver Dragon in the Brass Garon's view, like a ripple on water, completely merged into the River of Time and vanished.
"What a pity, I wanted to ask more about the Dragonfall War."
"Giants, giants seeking to undermine our dominion as True Dragons, I, Garon, will not allow such a thing to happen. The majesty of True Dragons shall not be challenged by giants."
"The status of True Dragons as rulers of all shall remain unchanged in the future, forever."
The Brass Garon, only about six meters long, squinted against the sand-filled wind, murmuring softly.
"Recommended reading: 'Mythical Revival: Slaying Gods in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.'"
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