The Ember Dragon Chapter 89: Path of the Crimson Scales (II) - Novel Cool

Chapter 89: Path of the Crimson Scales (II)

Alje addressed the two: "As long as I’m here to guard, they won’t attack you outright. But if you fall and die by accident? Well, you’ll just become a snack for the Two-Headed Dragons."

"Good luck."

This was the initiation trial set by Kai Xiusu—Crimson Scale Conqueror. Over the years, more than a hundred Followers had attempted it, yet none had succeeded. Most either fell to their deaths, or fled in terror before even reaching the edge.

Stuffed Bun felt like crying: "I really appreciate that... thanks a lot."

The Two-Headed Dragons circled high above, frenziedly flapping their wings, screeching, roaring, growling—closing in like a pack of hungry predators. To them, these Humans were mere treats to be crushed and devoured. It was easy work. They’d already swallowed down several Great Goblins and Tieflings, their bellies full of soft, succulent meat.

Singo stared at the approaching beasts, voice low. "Stuffed Bun, have you decided?"

"Decided what?"

Stuffed Bun was still dazed, paralyzed by the sheer terror of being surrounded by those monstrous, snarling dragons.

Singo didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out a bundle of lassos from his pack and tossed one to Stuffed Bun. Then he handed him a canister filled with an unknown liquid—Spray.

"Choose your Mount, of course."

"Huh?" Stuffed Bun blinked, still reeling from the chaos. But then he understood—Singo’s plan was utterly insane. And utterly brilliant. He stared, dumbfounded.

Singo ignored him. "I’ve got my eye on that one up on the cliff—it’s the largest, strongest in this zone. You’re not stealing it from me."

"Watch closely. I’ll only do this once. I’ve been practicing for ages—tried it back in the Old Sharpshooter’s Arena."

With a smooth, practiced motion, he hurled the lasso. It flew true, wrapping perfectly around the thick neck of a four-meter-long, Massive Size Two-Headed Dragon clinging to the rock face. He yanked hard, tightening the rope.

"Woooooo—!"

The Wyvern flinched, startled. It thrashed violently, jerking its head, screeching in fury. Then it flailed its wings wildly, trying to shake off the human clinging to its neck.

But Singo held on tight, wrapping the rope around his hands several times. Instead of resisting, he used the dragon’s own thrashing strength—leaping up in one fluid motion and landing squarely on its back.

"ROOOOAR!"

The Two-Headed Dragon was enraged. How dare this tiny, insignificant creature ride it? It twisted its neck wildly, flapped its wings with full force, and began accelerating, jerking to a stop, spinning in midair—deliberately slamming its back against the cliff wall in a desperate attempt to dislodge its rider.

But Singo’s arms were locked around its neck. He didn’t let go. Not even when the dragon tried to throw him off with every ounce of strength.

Then, with one hand free, he pulled the Spray canister and sprayed the liquid directly onto the dragon’s flying head. Mid-air, he added: "This stuff is Female Flying Dragon Hormone—calms their nerves, keeps them from panicking."

The effort, however, took a heavy toll. After several brutal rounds of struggle, Singo finally collapsed from exhaustion. He seized a moment when the dragon dipped low for a dive, leapt off, and rolled across the ground to cushion his fall.

The Two-Headed Dragon, sensing weakness, lunged forward with a snarl—ready to strike.

But Singo was already up. He chugged a Vitality Potion, then stood firm, facing the beast again, waiting for the next chance to mount it.

"Still a ways off," he grinned, breathless but exhilarated. "Gonna have to stay here all day, probably. But hey—every time I ride it, the System gives me a Proficiency Bonus. Keep doing this enough times, and I’ll max out Horsemanship."

Stuffed Bun stared in silence, then muttered: "You’re a real beast."

But then he thought of his dream—flying through the sky, free as the wind. He thought of eighteen days of backbreaking labor. He was so close—just one final step. There was no way he’d back down now.

He clenched his fists, determination blazing in his eyes.

Stuffed Bun locked onto the circling dragons. With a sharp intake of breath, he threw his lasso. And—by sheer luck—it hit dead center, wrapping tightly around a three-meter-long, snarling Wyvern.

The dragon erupted into the air, flailing wildly.

But Stuffed Bun failed to mount it. Instead, he was dragged beneath, dangling like a ragdoll, spinning wildly through the sky.

"AAAAAAHHHHH—!

IM GONNA DIE! I’M GONNA DIE! HARDCORE PLAYER, HELP ME!"

His scream echoed through the valley.

Singo, watching from below, shook his head. "Noob. Just practice more."

He drew his Hunter’s Longbow, took aim—and fired.

Thwip!

The arrow sliced cleanly through the lasso rope. Stuffed Bun plummeted from the sky, crashing face-first into the dirt.

"...Harcore Player, that’s how you save people?"

Face down, groaning, Stuffed Bun reached for a Healing Potion, his pride bruised as much as his body.

But at that moment, Singo was already sprinting after the same Wyvern, launching into their second battle.

Thus began a relentless cycle: two Players versus Wyverns, over and over. The dragons flung them off again and again—yet each time, they climbed back on. Their skills grew sharper, their balance more precise. Soon, they could control the dragons’ movements with simple actions, balancing on their backs with nothing but their legs, no longer fearing a fall.

Eventually, the dragon grew tired of the game. It soared to a hundred meters above, circling in a wide, dizzying spiral—trying to dislodge its riders through sheer force.

But Singo remained calm. He reached into his pack, pulled out a Feather Fall Scroll, and unrolled it. With a soft glow, he floated down to the ground like a feather—landing lightly, untouched.

The Two-Headed Dragon shrieked in frustration, spitting fury, its jaws snapping in rage.

"Grrrrr—"

A weak, rasping roar.

> [Your skill Experience Points (XP) have reached the required threshold.]

> [Your proficiency in 【Horsemanship】 has increased to +3.]

Singo landed gracefully, turning to Stuffed Bun, who was just staggering off the dragon’s back, gasping for breath.

"Nice run. My Riding Proficiency Rank is now +3. How about you?"

Stuffed Bun leaned on his knees, panting. "Mine’s only +2... but this Weightlessness Sensation is killing me. Feels like I’m gonna puke. Is there a Nausea Mechanism here or something?"

Singo scoffed. "That’s just weakness. How can you be a knight if you can’t even handle a little dizziness?"

Stuffed Bun shot back: "You think everyone’s a beast like you? Bring in War Fury Brother—he’d probably throw up all over the place."

Alje watched the two exhausted humans from afar. He saw their Horsemanship skill rise at a pace that defied logic—growing visibly, almost unnaturally fast. For the first time in centuries, his golden eyes flickered with genuine surprise.

"These so-called 'Natural Talents'… they might actually become Two-Headed Dragon Riders in mere days."

"Truly… incredible."

His lifetime of training—his countless Experience Points (XP)—had been shattered. These dragons were far more volatile than Giant Eagles. Controlling one was nearly impossible. Even among the elite Northwind Eagle Guard, after over a decade of training, only a handful of the three hundred recruits had managed to master them—just like him.

And yet… here were two humans.

Their natural talent was so overwhelming, it made Alje question everything he’d ever believed.

(End of Chapter)

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