Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

The surrounding air was frigid, the ground coated with a layer of frost.

Dense clusters of ice blades remained unmelted, packed tightly together like countless blooming flowers.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows of the nearby forest—obsidian-like dragon scales, crimson patterns, a rugged and imposing frame... It was Garoth, returning to the scene of the crime.

He glanced up at the direction where the Brass Dragon had departed, then surveyed the ravaged abandoned mine.

"Tsk, that Brass Dragon was furious. But then again, dragons treasure their hoards like their very lives. The fact it didn't go completely berserk shows remarkable restraint—typical of a metallic dragon, far more disciplined than the chromatic ones."

Garoth clicked his tongue.

He plucked one of the ice blades with his claws. The cold stung, numbing his talons.

"This level of power... only an adult or older dragon could wield it."

"Ice affinity... Could one of its parents be a Silver Dragon? Most likely."