Chapter 788: Grotar
“This is my escape route!”
A streak of Bloodlight shot upward through the gap between the Dragon Beasts, vanishing into the sky in a flash—leaving only a single taunting phrase behind.
“Damned vampire vermin!”
The Cult Priest’s face twisted in fury, his features warped with rage. With no outlet for his anger, he turned his wrath on the captured Night Wolf, lashing his back with a whip until skin tore open and flesh was flayed raw.
But thanks to the Vampire’s Race Trait, the wounds healed instantly—the torn flesh regrew in an instant, replaced by fresh, new skin.
Seeing no lasting damage could be inflicted, the Cult Priest screamed in frustration: “Take him back! Lock him up! I’ll feed this bastard to the Dragon Beast—rip him to shreds! I don’t believe even he can survive that!”
Night Wolf was clamped with heavy Anti-Magic Manacles and dragged back into the city by soldiers, his expression hollow and broken—this was likely not the first time Langli BaiTiao had betrayed him.
Stuffed Bun smirked with Schadenfreude, typing into the group chat:
“Langli BaiTiao’s pure filth. Just abandons his own brother like trash. Fits my image of him perfectly.”
Xia Ye Qiu Yu: “Focus. We need to survive this. That Cult Priest’s Scepter can strip magic. If you slip up, we’ll end up worse than Night Wolf.”
Singo: “Then let’s crank up the Chaos. Let’s play the fool in the water! Stuffed Bun, follow my lead.”
I'm Going to Eat a Steamed Bun: “Fine. If we’re exposed, War Fury Brother will carve us a way out.”
The Cultists who had brought Langli BaiTiao and Night Wolf into the city—mistaking them for gold bars—were caught in the fallout.
“Daring to smuggle an enemy into the city? Clearly, they’re traitors! Take them down! Throw them in the Dungeon!”
Under the Cult Priest’s command, armored Dragonkin Soldiers surged forward, dragging the terrified Cultists away.
“Sir! We’re innocent!”
“Please spare us! It wasn’t our fault! We didn’t know anyone could disguise themselves as gold!”
“No, no—I don’t want to be a Sacrificial Offering! Please, I’ll do anything!”
“I swear my loyalty to the Dragon Queen is absolute!”
Their screams were desperate, tears streaming down their faces as they writhed in terror. They knew what awaited them—being thrown into the Dragon Breeding Pool, to become fresh blood for the Dragon Beasts.
After all, they’d done the same to countless innocent Civilians before, tossing them into the Blood Pool without mercy, letting them die in agony and fear.
Now, fate had come full circle.
Hearing their pleas, the Cult Priest sneered. “Since you’re so loyal… offer your flesh and soul to the Great Mother of Monsters. Burn out your final worth!”
“No—no—!”
Their wails sent chills down the spines of those waiting outside the city. Cold sweat poured down their backs.
The captured Civilians, realizing their own grim fate, turned pale, trembling, some even collapsing unconscious.
But it was all pointless. To the Dragon Worship Church, humans were the cheapest disposable assets imaginable.
After the farce, the City Gate’s inspection grew even stricter—every group had to pass through multiple layers of scrutiny before being allowed through.
But then, conflict erupted.
Under Stuffed Bun’s orders, Lede and his subordinates pushed past the front lines, cutting straight to the front, snarling: “Get out of the way! Let us go first!”
The Cultist froze, stunned and furious. “You—”
Even the Cult Priest and the Dragonkin Soldiers turned their attention toward the disturbance. But Lede pressed forward, defiant, and slapped the man across the face.
Slap!
The sharp crack echoed through the air. Then came a roar: “Didn’t you hear me? Get out of the way, now!”
The Cultist stood frozen, stunned. Then rage flared in his eyes. With a terrifying snarl, he charged forward: “You’re asking for death!”
But before he could land a blow, a massive Fireball streaked from the distance—engulfing the man’s head in a searing explosion. Only a charred corpse remained.
From afar, Xia Ye Qiu Yu stood expressionless, brushing black smoke from his palm.
Lede stood still, legs trembling—but his resolve burned hotter than ever. This is it. One last step. Whether I become Dragonborn or not… hinges on this moment.
The Dragonkin Soldiers and the Cult Priest stared, dumbfounded. No one had dared kill inside the gates of Linying City.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” the Cult Priest roared. “Are you trying to rebel?!”
But then, a voice rang out—soft, almost naive.
“Just killed a worthless piece of filth. Why are you making such a fuss?”
All eyes turned to the source.
On a wagon far off, a young Red Dragon stepped down slowly. Its scales gleamed crimson and bright, its narrow vertical pupils glowing with inner flame.
—A Red Dragon. Small in size, but radiating undeniable Dragon presence. Around it stood several powerful Dragonborn, their eyes fixed on the scene.
“Are you calling me a rebel?” the Cult Priest immediately changed his tone, forcing a smile. “Forgive me, noble sir. I didn’t realize you were a respected Dragon…”
Stuffed Bun surveyed the crowd, voice cold and sharp. His golden Dragon eyes flashed with fury. “I came bearing the Dragon Queen’s decree. Yet you made me wait at the City Gate for hours! What punishment do you deserve?”
“Get out of the way! All of you—get out of the way!”
The roar that erupted from the dragon’s maw was sharp, high-pitched—but no one dared laugh. The sheer presence of a Dragon in the Church of Dragon Worship was absolute. Even a young Dragonling commanded reverence.
The Cult Priest bowed deeply. “Forgive me, noble one. We’re simply being extra cautious—enemy threats have grown too frequent. We must follow higher orders.”
“Orders?” Stuffed Bun sneered. “We Dragonkind are the masters of this Church! How dare you inspect me?”
The Cultists didn’t question him. They only nodded, even more convinced.
After all, Red Dragons were known for their brutality and unpredictability. Killing someone in public? That was perfectly normal.
If this dragon had been calm and polite, they’d have suspected a trick.
The Cult Priest chuckled nervously, then whispered to a passing messenger: “Go find Grotar. Tell him—there’s an arrogant young Red Dragon at the City Gate.”
“Yes, Eron Lord.”
The messenger mounted a lean Wyvern and vanished into the sky.
Moments later, a putrid hurricane swept across the battlefield. A massive green silhouette descended from the clouds, landing before the crowd.
A Green Dragon—over ten meters long, olive-green scales glistening, a crest stretching along its spine. A full-grown, powerful adult.
The Cult Priest and Dragonkin Soldiers dropped to their knees in reverence.
Grotar let out a fierce, thunderous roar, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Who dares disturb our Green Dragon domain?”
He came.
Stuffed Bun’s heart skipped a beat—but he forced himself to stand tall. “I assume… you’re Grotar?”
The Green Dragon narrowed his eyes, staring down at the tiny Red Dragon before him. His pupils flared. “A hatchling still in the nest? How amusing. Didn’t your parents teach you to show humility before the powerful?”
His voice deepened, turning into a rumbling roar. The sheer pressure of his aura forced Stuffed Bun to stagger back—uncontrollably, against his will.
Then—suddenly—Grotar froze.
He tilted his head, studying Stuffed Bun’s back. His narrow pupils flickered with something… fear.
That scent… It’s exactly the same as that damned woman!
Grotar gritted his teeth, memories flooding back—of being hunted, cornered, nearly annihilated by a Dragonborn woman just days ago.
Even now, the memory made him want to rip her apart, limb by limb.
He fixed Stuffed Bun with a murderous glare. “So… the Red Dragon Sect finally admit you’re responsible for that?”
Huh?
Did we just stumble into some bizarre side quest?
This wasn’t in the plan.
Stuffed Bun was baffled.
But Singo typed in the chat:
Whatever he says, play along. The most important thing now is getting inside the city—specifically, the Dragon Breeding Ground. Keep your words vague, confuse him. If needed, just pretend you’re dumb.
Grotar stepped forward, his gaze heavy with oppressive power. “Ha. So this is the Red Dragon Sect’s sincerity? Send a hatchling with no scales? Are you trying to mock me?”
Under the Green Dragon’s intimidation aura, Stuffed Bun trembled violently, his Dragon form nearly collapsing.
He forced his voice out. “Green Dragon, you—”
Grotar laughed coldly. “Pathetic. A cowardly hatchling, too afraid to speak in my presence.”
He grinned, revealing sharp fangs. “But perfect. If I take you hostage, the Red Dragon Sect will pay a fortune in gold to get you back. And more importantly—give me that damned woman! I’ll shred her into a thousand pieces!”
Still, the Five-Colored Dragons rarely slaughtered each other. They shared a common deity—the Mother of Monsters, the Five-Color Dragon Queen Tiamat.
And Grotar, as a mature Green Dragon, had no need to waste energy on a mere hatchling.
With a flick of his claw, he ordered: “Take this Red Dragon and his followers to the Inner District. Lock them down. No one is to leave.”
“Yes, Lord.”
The Dragonkin Soldiers moved in—but didn’t touch. This was a Dragon. Their statuses were worlds apart.
The Cult Priest stepped forward, bowing deeply, hand outstretched. “Please, Red Dragon Lord. This way.”
Stuffed Bun didn’t react. In the group chat, he asked: Now what?
Singo: “Good. Don’t resist. Let them take us in. The Dragon Breeding Ground is in the Inner District.”
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang: “Once inside, I’ll wipe out all the guards watching us.”
Xia Ye Qiu Yu: “I planted a Tracking Device on that woman. We’ll follow her signal to find the Breeding Ground.”
I'm Going to Eat a Steamed Bun: “Got it. Let’s go.”
“Lowly scum,” the young Red Dragon muttered coldly—but still followed the Dragonkin Soldiers into the city’s depths.
His Dragonborn attendants trailed silently behind.
Meanwhile, the Cultists—Lede included—didn’t follow. Instead, they handed over the shrieking, sobbing Civilians to the Dragonkin Soldiers.
The City Gate’s checks? Forgotten.
Once the sacrifices were delivered, Lede turned and led the rest of his group back toward Blackwood Village.
“Whew… all went smoothly.”
He patted his chest, heart still racing from tension and adrenaline.
His hand, hidden beneath his robe, gripped a scroll tightly—his palm slick with sweat.
It worked.
Not only had Duka—his tyrant, the fool who’d always bullied him—finally died… but he now had a chance to become a Dragon Bloodline Descendant.
Yet, as the thought settled in, unease crept in.
What if the others saw this scroll? What if they turn on me, just like I once did?
Cold sweat dripped down his spine. His eyes flicked toward his subordinates—filled with suspicion, distrust.
No. I must become Dragonborn. Only then can I gain the strength to rule Blackwood Village. Only then can I become a being of arrogant supremacy.
He dismissed the others, stepping into a secluded corner hidden by thick forest.
He activated the scroll.
The air warped.
Whoosh—
A wave of dizziness hit him—like a sledgehammer to the head. When he opened his eyes, the world had changed.
But it wasn’t the mystical altar he’d imagined—no warm Dragon blood, no chanting Red Dragon cultists.
Instead, he stood in a sterile, enclosed room. White walls. Harsh ceiling lights.
Around him stood humans in white lab coats, masks over their faces, holding cold, gleaming tweezers, scissors, short knives.
They stared at him—not like humans, but like specimens.
One spoke, voice clinical.
“This subject is unique. A follower of the Dragon Worship Church. Perfect for studying the link between faith and bloodline.”
“Proceed carefully. Don’t damage him.”
“Start with the abdomen. Strip the skin and muscle. Remove the organs. Replace them with our engineered Dragon-like ones. Watch for rejection.”
“Xiao Wang, document every reaction stage for analysis.”
“Got it.”
“Wait—look! He’s waking up.”
Lede’s eyes widened in terror. He struggled violently—but his limbs were bound tight to a cold metal table.
He screamed: “Let me go! I’m a subordinate of Lord Miantuo Fusi! I’m meant to become a Dragon Bloodline Descendant!”
But the scientists ignored him.
“Spellcaster. Neural system differs. Next time, increase the anesthesia by 800mg.”
“Xiao Wang, are the machines ready?”
“Ready.”
“Begin. Six Hundred and Forty-Seventh Live Dragon Organ Replacement Experiment. This time, we may see progress.”
The syringe plunged into his flesh.
The world went black.
In his final moment of consciousness, Lede’s heart filled with despair. Tears of fear spilled from his eyes.
“Fraud… All of it… fraud.”
(End of Chapter)
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