On the Fertile Plain under the wind and snow, the Red Iron Dragon gently stretched its body, and a fine prickling sensation immediately arose from all over, causing it to slightly tense its muscles. Those tiny wounds immediately stopped oozing blood.

He glanced at his own scale armor, riddled with cracks.

Few dragons, like him, allow their followers to attack them as a form of training. The number of battle scar patterns on his Black-Red Scale Armor had increased considerably, and once these cracks healed, some would form new battle scar patterns.

"If I keep progressing at this pace, I might be covered with battle scar patterns by adulthood, or at the latest, by middle age."

"Also, my Cold Burst Scales have a unique structure, with no battle scar patterns on them, primarily on the inner Dragon Scales."

"In the future, if someone from the Dragon Race or any creature familiar with dragons sees that I’m clean and thinks I’m not skilled in combat, then provokes and attacks me, shattering my Cold Burst Scales only to find me full of battle scar patterns underneath, I wonder what their reaction would be. Hmm, perhaps they would be very surprised."

Thinking of this, a playful smile spread across the Red Iron Dragon’s face.

"Praise the Dragon Lord, your scale armor has become harder."

The Snake Woman exhaled slowly, bowed her head, and spoke respectfully.

The first time this Lord of the Borderland asked her to spar, her sword could still leave deep marks on his body. However, as time went on, the resistance of the Red Iron Dragon’s scale armor to sharp weapons increased rapidly.

Until now.

Even with her unmatched cutting power, although she could still pierce its dragon scales, she could only barely cut the outer layer of flesh, not causing any real effective damage.

Such visible growth speed was terrifying.

Galos nodded slightly and said, "Naris, take your weapon to the Black Iron Plain and let the Alchemists refine and strengthen it. The materials are good, but the forging technique is too crude."

The Snake Woman Sword Saint is an excellent sparring partner.

Because of her presence, Galos’ resistance to sharp damage had increased significantly, and he valued her considerably.

"Next time, I hope your sword can be sharper and leave deeper wounds on me."

Hearing this, the Snake Woman responded, "Naris will not disappoint your expectations."

As she spoke, she became even more grateful for the choice she made back then.

The Red Iron Dragon, merely allowing her to attack, could exhaust her physical strength while remaining unmoved.

Though this was partly because she hadn’t deliberately aimed at weaknesses, the Red Iron Dragon never fought back.

In a real life-or-death battle, given her physique, if the Red Iron Dragon hit her a few times, it would basically mean the end of the fight.

The pride of the Snake-man Sword Saint.

Already shattered after several sparring sessions with the Red Iron Dragon.

On the other side, the White Dragon Trish squatted on the ground, stretching her neck to watch.

"This Naris, even in front of a prestigious mature dragon like me, acts aloof and cold."

"But when Galos arrives, her ecological status suddenly plummets, immediately becoming as docile as a little lamb."

She wagged her tail, feeling pleased because the outcome was just as she expected.

Ever since she understood the dynamic ecological status theory, every time she got angry, she only needed to think of this theory, and the explosive anger typical of the Dragon Race bloodline would gradually dissipate. Over time, Trish’s mindset has become increasingly calm, excelling in magic learning, with efficiency elevated.

Galos noticed the White Dragon’s expression of ’perceiving truth’ and ’it was as expected.’

He was speechless, but he could roughly guess what she was thinking.

"Galos, when will the Molten Iron Tribe have new young dragons?"

Under Galos’ gaze, the White Dragon Trish propped up her body, taking the opportunity to inquire, her tone full of anticipation.

She was somewhat impatient, eager to experience the feeling of belittling younger dragons from above.

"When it’s time, it will happen."

Galos replied.

The followers of the Border Area, while active, also kept an eye out for signs of dragons, yet have found none, just like the scouts along the Eternal Frost Tundra and the Sel Wilderness.

Whether it’s the Border Area or Sel Wilderness, the lands are vast.

Moreover, while dragons are not exceedingly rare, they are not common either, and the fame of Dragon Valley and the Molten Iron Tribe hadn’t been widely spread, so encountering other young dragons would take a bit of luck.

Galos simply instructed the followers to guard the Abyssal Rift well, then with a flap of his wings, vanished in a gust of wind.

Dragon Valley, Burning Steel Castle.

The towering and majestic fortress stood on the cliff top, unwavering in the snowstorm.

Its structure was not entirely symmetrical. The sharp towers resembled dragon horns, and the walls bore many casting marks and cracks, densely arranged to form dragon patterns. At first glance, the exterior appeared somewhat rough, but there was a peculiar beauty to it, aligning perfectly with the Dragon Race’s architectural style. The guards were mainly composed of Violent Bears and Flying Dragons.

At this time, the Red Iron Dragon appeared above the Burning Steel Castle.

He folded his wings, slowly lowering his altitude, landing directly on a protruding terrace, his sharp claws clinking on the hard metallic floor.

Galos stood at the edge of the terrace, looking down, taking in the entire view of Dragon Valley.

By now, the shallow wounds left on him by the Sword Saint had mostly healed.

Galos’ regeneration speed was constantly increasing.

Although he was still far from the ultra-fast regeneration seen in combat, akin to thorns, it was steadily improving, allowing him to quickly recover from injuries after a battle.

Of course, this rapid recovery was not without cost; it consumed his energy.

Taking out a barrel of 95 Black Oil from his Spatial Ring, Galos gulped it down, feeling rejuvenated instantly as the consumed energy was greatly replenished.

With the development of the alchemy industry,

the production of high-grade black oil like 95 Black Oil, which Galos previously hesitated to drink regularly, had increased, so he could now indulge occasionally.

"Guess a color!"

"I am the nascent flame, and also the withered maple leaf; I symbolize forbidden danger and represent extreme passion."

"—Mixed-blood Dragon, what color am I?"

With a joyful voice, the Red Silver Dragon emerged from the arch at the top of the terrace.

"Red."

Galos pondered for a few seconds before arriving at the answer.

"Correct! Your turn to pose a riddle."

The Red Silver Dragon exclaimed happily.

"Hold on, I need to train and vent some energy now."

As the 95 Black Oil converted into fiery energy inside him, Galos spoke while flames spewed from his mouth and nose. Immediately, with a flap of his dragon wings, he flew into Dragon Valley to the place where Overweight Items were kept and began training.

The Red Silver Dragon didn’t stay idle either.

She couldn’t drink black oil, but mimicking Galos, she drank a bottle of Magic Potion to stimulate bodily activity and then began training alongside the robust Red Iron Dragon.

The sun rose and set, snowflakes falling softly.

In the blink of an eye, several months passed, arriving at the beginning of New Calendar Year 251.

Boom, boom, boom!

With each deep breath, a drumming sound echoed within the Red Iron Dragon’s chest as he exercised his heart through the Blood Burst Technique.

Suddenly, there came a faint knock on his bloodline.

"Galos, on the border of the Estonian River, a young dragon has been spotted flying across the river towards the Border Area."

The voice of Iron Dragon Solrog resonated in Galos’ heart through their blood connection.

"Tell me more."

Galos slowly exhaled and responded.

"The information came from a hidden post by Mad Frogfolk residing in the river water."

Mad Frogfolk, primarily aquatic creatures. The Molten Iron Tribe discovered a Mad Frogfolk clan along the Estonian River after unifying the Border Area and quickly subdued them. They now mainly reside on the southern riverbank, responsible for trade and vigilance.

"They smelled the scent of Dragon Blood in the water and then observed a young female red dragon flying across the Estonian River."

After a brief pause, Iron Dragon Solrog continued, "However, the condition of the red dragon was not good, dropping blood along the way and bearing injuries, as if being pursued."

"Wait, new information just arrived: a squad of dwarf cavalry with golems has crossed the river, pursuing along the path the red dragon escaped."

They came from the direction of Sel Wilderness.

Being pursued.

Dwarves.

The Red Iron Dragon halted his heart training, a gleam flashed in his eyes, and he said, "Tell the followers not to act rashly and to remain as hidden as possible."

After pondering for a moment, he added, "Summon Samantha and the Great Workshop Master; we’ll go personally."

If it’s the regular army of the Federation, there are bound to be communication devices.

To be safe, it’s better to bring along an alchemist capable of blocking transmissions.

After more than a year of peaceful life, a new variable emerged for the Molten Iron Tribe. Following his conversation with Solrog, the Red Iron Dragon stretched his mighty body and soared into the air.