School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 159 --The Truth Behind the Great War

"Saint has grown stronger," Dinesh remarked, his eyes shimmering with a sense of awe.

Owen nodded vigorously, his smile spreading, "It’s all thanks to the dragons’ nurturing. I’m merely under the wings of the dragons."

Dinesh shook his head, patting Owen on the shoulder, "Such modesty belittles your achievements. The dragons bestowed upon you but two blessings. To fully unleash the power of these blessings requires your own effort. I thought it would take you ages to cultivate the power of these blessings, yet you’ve absorbed them almost entirely in just two years."

"Not entirely," Owen corrected with precision.

"Soon, very soon," Dinesh beamed, his smile so wide that his molars were on full display, "Come, let us show our warriors the esteemed Saint."

He pulled Owen into the center of the arena, where countless dragons’ warriors fixed their gaze on him.

In the eyes of some dragons burned a fervent zeal, clearly aware of Owen’s initial lack of cultivation but then defeating a gold-tier dragon warrior with a single move.

Others harbored doubts, surprised at the youth and slight frame of the Saint of Dragons.

Owen, nearly 1.9 meters tall with bulging muscles, would be considered robust and imposing among the human race or other species.

However, standing among the dragon warriors, he seemed somewhat less imposing.

Most dragon warriors towered over two meters, their muscles bulging like iron blocks, resembling a standing brown bear.

Yet, knowing Owen’s identity, none dared to question.

Dinesh conducted a final welcoming ritual: "Ladies and gentlemen, behold. This is the revered Saint, he has returned home---"

Utilizing arcanergy, his voice quickly spread throughout the entire Dragon Echo Valley.

Many dragons awoke from their lairs, drawn crazily towards the valley’s center.

Owen wore a look of resignation; this was turning into a bigger event than anticipated.

He understood that the dragons needed this morale boost.

For millennia, the dragons had remained secluded within Dragon Echo Valley, as the angel race’s power swelled.

In this impending war, the dragons had but a slim chance of victory.

Dinesh, too, sought to seize this moment to bolster the dragons’ morale significantly.

...

After the welcoming ceremony, Owen and Dinesh stood atop a mountain peak, overlooking Dragon Echo Valley.

Owen’s gaze drifted over the rolling hills to the lush greenery of the dense forest below.

The trees were thick with interlocking branches and leaves, and occasionally, dragons could be seen spiraling through the air, a sight both mystical and extraordinary.

Between the trees, the gentle murmur of streams was barely visible, those were the streams of Dragon Echo Valley, meandering through the crevices of rocks, their babbling a symphony to the ears.

Further in the distance, a broad waterfall cascaded down from a high cliff, droplets splashing up and forming clouds of white mist, like a silver dragon shimmering under the sunlight’s caress, its brilliance dazzling to behold.

The waterfall’s thunderous roar, akin to a dragon’s cry, was soul-stirring.

At this moment, the sun pierced through the thin layer of clouds, casting its golden radiance over the winding valley, painting everything with a hue of splendor.

All was serene, all was beautiful.

Owen took a deep breath, the moist air filling his lungs, as if he were transported back to the days of rigorous training in combat techniques atop the mountain.

Dinesh, expressionless, his eyes intense, softly said, "I’ve gazed upon the scenery of Dragon Echo Valley for three thousand years, and yet, it never grows old."

"Yes," Owen agreed, "the beauty of this place varies with each season, each with its own unique charm."

"Do you know what you’re facing upon your return?" Dinesh looked towards Owen, "The situation on the battlefield is far from favorable."

Owen frowned, "Actually, I have a question."

"Speak," Dinesh prompted.

"Wasn’t the angel race’s decision to wage war a bit too hasty?" Owen had been pondering this on his journey, "War brings no benefits to the angel race, does it?"

"Hasty?" Dinesh’s face grew stern, a scoff escaping his lips, "When we dragons initiated war, that was hasty. For an advanced race to wage war, only the disadvantaged and intermediate races pay the price. They bear no burden on their conscience."

Owen’s confusion deepened, "Knowing they’re merely cannon fodder for the angel race, these races still choose to fight on their behalf?"

Dinesh exhaled, his gaze drifting to the horizon where birds tore at each other.

The Celestial Inferno had awakened the intellect of some beasts, turning them into fierce, war-loving demons.

These new demons, knowing Dinesh’s formidable strength, dared not come close.

"It all boils down to interests," Dinesh mused after a long pause.

"The disadvantaged races, constantly plundered by intermediate races, see war as their only chance to ascend into the ranks of the intermediate races. And the intermediate races, to avoid becoming prey to the advanced races, have no choice but to desperately seek a way out. They all have their reasons for going to war."

Owen’s brows were furrowed, his voice grave, "Isn’t this just a form of plunder in disguise? Using the guise of war to dominate and invade the territories and resources of other races..."

"This world," Dinesh looked at Owen, his eyes swirling with a sentiment known as sorrow, "is governed by the law of the survival of the fittest, devoid of any moral standards... The winners take all, the losers are obliterated. These are the rules set by the gods for us, cruel, real, and unavoidable. As inhabitants of this continent, who can escape it?"

Silence fell upon them both, each lost in their thoughts.

"What about Barlo?" Owen finally broke the silence, "I haven’t seen him."

"He’s being hunted by the angel race, whereabouts unknown," Dinesh replied.

"I witnessed Grandmaster Nidaam’s sword strike, it was powerful," Owen said earnestly.

"Yes," Dinesh’s lips pursed, clearly struggling to contain his emotions, "Nidaam had grasped the Mystic Technique, embarking on the path of a grandmaster. Coupled with his unique dragon scale sword, his strike, once in three hundred years, was indeed meant to shock the continent."

Dinesh’s restraint was evident, the loss of Nidaam a profound regret.

In this exchange of words, silence once again enveloped the two dragons.

"The reality of this war isn’t as simple as it appears," Owen began, as clouds drifted by and the sun began its descent.

Dinesh sighed, "The gods set this ’survival of the fittest’ rule largely to collect ’Spiricontam’. Did you know that?"

"I did," Owen replied, "Barlo told me."

"Without war, without strife, just controlling desires and relying on the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death, how much ’Spiricontam’ energy can the gods collect? The onset of this great war likely stems from the gods’ dissatisfaction with the current illusion of peace on the continent," Dinesh’s tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Owen paused, surprised, "Not to mention the great wars among human kingdoms, but on my journey here, I’ve seen plenty of races with their own conflicts, and bloody fights seem normal. Does that count as peace?"

"Of course, it’s peaceful," Dinesh said coldly.

"A thousand years ago, there was a great war across the entire continent, led by us dragons. Seven out of the ten advanced races participated. That war was earth-shattering. Do you know of Heaven Summit in the far north?"

"I do," Owen responded, somewhat taken aback by the connection to Heaven Summit.

"That place used to have a thousand-kilometer-long vein of ore, which was completely drained during the great war a thousand years ago, leading to the collapse of Heaven Summit. The far north wailed in despair, and the continental plates trembled. It was no different from the apocalypse."

Owen raised an eyebrow, "But isn’t Heaven Summit fine now?"

"That’s all been rebuilt," Dinesh smirked, his laugh tinged with derision.

"Those fools caused the continental plates to shake, and in their anger, the gods forced them to rebuild Heaven Summit embarrassingly. They bowed their heads after their initial arrogance, becoming a laughingstock among all races."

"Who was it?" Owen asked.

"The Westro Fairyland, of course. That stellar gold vein is still in their capital city," Dinesh’s face grew colder, his disdain for Westro Fairyland evident. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Owen decided not to pursue the topic further.

As the sun gradually sank, Dragon Echo Valley was bathed in a layer of soft sunset afterglow.

Golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, casting a warm hue over every leaf and flower in the valley, coating them in a layer of warmth.

The waterfall’s flow appeared even more crystalline under this gentle light, like a string of pearls dancing in the last rays of the sun.

Atop the mountain, Owen witnessed this ever-changing play of light and shadow.

He watched as the once vibrant green trees were now tinged with gold and orange-red, resembling a fairy tale of autumn.

Stones by the stream, under the glow of the setting sun, radiated a warm luster, tempting the dragons to touch their smooth warmth.

The clouds in the sky turned splendidly colorful under the sunset, some ablaze like flames, others tinted with the dreamy hues of pink.

The entire skyline, adorned with these vibrant colors, was breathtakingly beautiful.

Owen reached out, as if to touch the sky, "Elder, is there anything I can do to help our race?"

Dinesh looked at Owen, somewhat surprised, "This is war, and it’s dangerous."

Owen shrugged, "Elder, my time at the academy wasn’t just spent on books, I’ve faced life and death situations outside as well."

"I understand," Dinesh fell into thought, his response trailing off, "Last time, you used the Dragon Blood Tracing Technique and woke us all."

Owen sheepishly replied, "I had no choice, I stirred up a big mess."