Chapter 171: Jinya's Encounter
North of Storm Ridge, Spellweave Hills.
A horde of over a thousand Goblinoid troops crept slowly across the rolling terrain, appearing from afar like an army of ants—part of the Orcish Transport Battalion of the Kingdom of Ashen.
“Move faster! Get the gold to the destination. This is a direct order from Lord Lanpu!”
Crack!
Jinya gripped his Whip, lashing the ground with a sharp snap, barking commands at the entrance of the Mine Shaft.
As the sole Follower left behind in Storm Ridge, the Goblinoids still carried out their duties—mining, hauling, and transporting. They worked tirelessly, round the clock, dragging out golden ore from the deep tunnels. Their labor, surprisingly, remained diligent.
Why?
Because the most outstanding performers were rewarded with Dragonvein Elixir—transforming them into legendary winged Goblinoids, known as Ede.
As the divine gift of Dragon blood deepened its influence, Jinya had now grown powerful enough to bestow Bloodline Gifts himself, even transforming ordinary Goblinoids into Dragonline creatures.
His form had changed drastically. Though still walking on two legs, he now stretched over four meters from head to tail. His skull bore the shape of a young dragon’s, and a spine of jagged bone protruded down his back. Yet, his mouth—once small and fierce—now seemed almost comically tiny in comparison to his expanding frame.
When one Goblinoid stumbled and fell, Jinya roared in fury.
“Grrr—!”
“Move, you brats! Don’t you want wings?!”
His voice no longer sounded like a dog’s bark. It was something far more primal—closer to the first breath of a newborn Dragon’s roar.
The fallen Goblinoid struggled to his feet, scooping up scattered ore with trembling hands, muttering under his breath.
“Tch. Just lucky, that’s all. What’s the big deal?”
“Some Ede. I’ll be one too someday.”
This Goblinoid was known as Blackfang—named for his yellowed, nearly blackened teeth. The Goblinoid tribes loved such nicknames.
Though defiant in words, Blackfang quickly packed his satchel, shook himself off, and sprinted to catch up with the line.
“Wait for me—!”
But the group had already vanished into the distance. He couldn’t keep pace.
Then—cold wind howled from behind.
A shiver ran through the Goblinoids, their bodies instinctively recoiling from the unnatural chill.
“Sssss—”
“Great Red Dragon above… it’s already this cold?”
The cold grew stronger, pressing in from behind. Blackfang’s movements slowed. Frost crept across his scales like a thin veil.
Just as he opened his mouth to scream—
A massive shadow swallowed him whole.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
And his eyes widened in pure, unfiltered terror.
“T-That’s…?”
Before him stood a Frost Giant over six meters tall—wearing a horned helmet, draped in crude armor stitched from beast hides, and gripping a massive war axe.
The Frost Giant grinned, revealing jagged teeth.
“Ugly little creature…”
“Crushing you under my foot would be most satisfying.”
Blackfang tried to run—but the cold had already frozen his limbs. He stared in horror as the armored foot, wrapped in tattered animal hide, loomed larger in his vision.
“Plop!”
A sickening crunch. Flesh and bone shattered beneath the crushing weight.
The Frost Giant didn’t even pause. He rubbed his foot against the ground, grumbling.
“Ugh. All these weaklings on the way. Nothing worth taking.”
Behind him, forty more Frost Giants advanced—scouts from the Youshuang Tribe, dispatched by Chieftain Kasa to scout Storm Ridge.
“Temaa,” the leader growled, voice low and gravelly. “Don’t forget the mission. No time wasting on these insignificant pests.”
This Frost Giant stood out—taller than his brethren by nearly a head. He wore armor forged from scales, wielded a long bone pick, and wore a tusk pendant around his neck.
Frost Giants sewed their clothes from animal hides, carved weapons and tools from bone and fangs, and repurposed captured gear—patching shields together, binding sword blades to wooden shafts to form spears. Most of their gear was chaotic, makeshift.
But their true spoils—what they coveted most—came from dragon hunts. The greatest Frost Giant chieftains wore Dragon Scale Armor and wielded Dragon Bone Weapons.
This one was no exception.
His name was Baya Youshuang, younger brother of Chieftain Kasa, and commander of the Frost Giant Hunt Patrol. He had once fought in the battle that slew the White Dragon.
The Frost Giant known as Temaa pointed ahead.
“Captain Baya… these aren’t just random pests. Look—there’s a full force ahead.”
“We can break their mouths open. Find out what’s happening. It’s been decades since we’ve marched south in force.”
Baya’s expression remained cold.
“You’re right. Then… destroy them.”
The wind howled. The ground trembled.
Three Frost Giants charged forward on Tundra Land Drakes—living mountains of muscle and scale—crushing over a hundred Goblinoids beneath their feet.
Baya surged ahead, axe raised. With a single swing, he felled over a dozen Goblinoids. The tiny creatures, barely reaching his knees, were no more than ants beneath his gaze—easy to crush.
“Enemy attack!”
“What in the name of the gods is that?!”
“Damn it—Frost Giant!”
“They’ve come south! Frost Disaster has arrived!”
The Goblinoids howled like dogs, screaming in panic, scattering in all directions.
Though their Dragon blood made them fierce—brutal even—against Human militia, they were utterly powerless before the overwhelming might of the Frost Giants.
All resistance was futile.
Jinya, wings flaring, shot into the air. Panic surged through him—but he forced himself to stabilize the situation.
“Hold on, you fools!”
“It’s just a bunch of overgrown human brutes!”
“Hold fast—Kingdom reinforcements will come!”
Baya’s head snapped up. His icy blue eyes narrowed, a spark of wild excitement flickering in their depths.
“That… is a hatchling?”
The Frost Giant licked his lips.
He didn’t recognize Jinya as a Goblinoid. To him, the creature was a malformed, winged dragon—something rare, something valuable.
“An unexpected prize… This dragon’s blood must be exquisite. Different from White Dragon, I bet.”
“It will be my finest spoils of war.”
With a leap, Baya dismounted his Tundra Land Drake. He snatched a rock from the ground and hurled it straight at the sky.
“Whoosh—”
The stone arced through the air—Jinya dodged with lightning reflexes.
But there was no time to breathe.
Baya clenched his bone pick, leapt over ten meters into the air, and brought the weapon down like a hammer.
He seized Jinya’s wing mid-flight—dragging the winged Goblinoid from the sky.
“Dragon! I’ll tear your skin off!”
The Frost Giant roared, his grip iron-strong.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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