https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-89-Path-of-the-Crimson-Scales-II-/13676230/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-91-Path-of-the-Crimson-Scales-4-/13676232/
Chapter 90: Path of the Crimson Scales (3)
The last rays of the sunset could no longer reach the Valley. Dragon Valley was now thick with shadows, and the Two-Headed Dragons soared through the darkness, their raucous, guttural roars echoing through the gloom.
Stuffed Bun’s movements had grown increasingly precise—almost instinctive, like muscle memory. Scaling the sheer rock face with practiced ease, he soon spotted the same Two-Headed Dragon he’d been chasing for days, now near exhaustion.
“Awooo—”
The creature let out a strained, desperate bellow as it saw the persistent human approach once more. It flapped its wings, trying to take flight, but its strength had drained too far. Even lifting off the ground was agony.
“Not gonna let you slip away this time, huh?”
“Hehehe… Don’t struggle. Just let me ride you already.”
A sly grin spread across Stuffed Bun’s face. The Lasso in his hand moved with eerie precision, coiling around the wyvern’s long, sinuous neck like a living thing.
“Aww….”
This time, the wyvern didn’t waste much energy fighting. It let out a weak, defeated wail, and Stuffed Bun yanked the rope tight, effortlessly vaulting onto its back.
Had it not been for the thick, protective scales, the wyvern’s neck would’ve been raw and bleeding from the pressure.
“Good, good…”
“Another day of riding a Two-Headed Dragon. Just like old times.”
Stuffed Bun patted the wyvern’s neck affectionately, then pulled out a spray can and doused its head with a heavy, noxious mist.
The wyvern slowly unfurled its wings, attempting to glide—but within moments, it collapsed back onto the ground with a thunderous crash.
“Arooo—”
With its final breath, it raised its head in a long, mournful roar before bowing down, utterly spent. No more resistance. No more fight.
The weight of the human on its back had become unbearable—especially for a young wyvern still in its Growth Phase. For three full days, this relentless human had tried to ride it. No matter how many times it threw him off, the man would crawl back, battered but unbroken.
Once, he’d fallen from a hundred meters in the air, splattering into a bloody mess. The wyvern had thought—finally, peace.
But less than a day later, the man was back—whole, grinning, and once again lassoing it.
It was starting to question the very meaning of its existence.
“I did it! I actually did it!”
Stuffed Bun’s face lit up with pure, unbridled joy. After three days of relentless effort, he’d finally succeeded. Tentatively, he reached out to stroke the wyvern’s head. This time, it didn’t bite. Didn’t even snarl. It simply hung its head, offering itself—passive, resigned, perhaps even submissive.
Maybe it was tired. Maybe it had given up. Or maybe… it had truly accepted its fate.
Stuffed Bun ran his fingers over the smooth, scaled hide, feeling the pulse beneath, the rhythm of its shallow breaths. A wave of triumph surged through him—this was the sweet taste of hard-won victory.
He looked down at the exhausted wyvern, lying with its eyes closed, and murmured:
“…Should I give you a name, huh?”
“Wife?”
“No… too tacky. And you’re clearly male.”
“Big Dragon?” Too crude.
“Since I’m Stuffed Bun… you’re gonna be… Noodles. After all, you’ve got such a long, thin neck.”
He clapped the wyvern’s head excitedly.
“Noodles!”
“Awooo…”
The wyvern lifted its head slightly, offering a weak, breathless reply. It wasn’t resistance. It wasn’t defiance. It was acceptance. Or perhaps just exhaustion. Either way, it was all the same.
“Stuffed Bun, what kind of trash name is that?!”
Singo landed nearby on his own wyvern, having already tamed his mount the day before. He claimed he’d used stolen Goblinoid Dragon Tongue to communicate—something Stuffed Bun found highly dubious.
“Noodles? That’s perfect! Look at your awful name—‘Two-Headed Dragon’? Seriously? You’re just calling it by its species! Just like how ‘Pikachu’ is just ‘Pikachu’—no one calls him ‘Stuffed Bun Bun’!”
Singo smirked. “Exactly. You’re just making excuses because you’re a Hardcore Player with no creativity.”
He ignored the rant, turning to Alje, who stood silently observing from the edge.
“Alje Instructor, we’ve completed the trial. Can we advance?”
Stuffed Bun, still rubbing Noodles’ neck, declared with rising excitement:
“Crimson Scale Conqueror… Activate!”
“You may proceed.”
“You truly… surprise me.”
Even Alje, usually stoic and reserved, could not hide his astonishment. This kind of natural talent wasn’t just rare—it defied reason.
“Igler!”
A low call.
From above, a colossal shadow fell across the valley. The Dragonvein Eagle, its wingspan nearing ten meters, descended like a storm from the heavens. The sheer power and grace of the beast drew awed glances from both men.
Alje mounted the giant eagle with effortless precision. No command. No hesitation. The eagle took flight instantly, wings slicing through the air.
Without turning back, Alje said:
“Follow me. I’ll take you to meet the master. The Ascension Ritual awaits.”
Singo rode after him, urging his wyvern forward.
“Two-Headed Dragon, let’s go.”
The creature seemed to understand. It lifted its head, let out a proud, resonant roar, and flapped its wings, surging into the air to follow.
This was the promise: becoming a Crimson Scale Conqueror meant access to a Bloodline Gift—power rivaling that of the Chieftains themselves.
But at this crucial moment, Noodles—Stuffed Bun’s newly named mount—collapsed.
It barely lifted its wings, barely stirred. It was simply too tired to fly.
Stuffed Bun slapped the side of Noodles’ neck, his voice cracking with desperation.
“Not now, Noodles! Come on, get up!”
“They’re gonna leave without us!”
The wyvern growled low, irritated. With a final, grudging effort, it flapped its wings—slow, unsteady—lifting itself just enough to stay airborne. It wobbled through the air, tossing Stuffed Bun around like a ragdoll.
Meanwhile, the others were already far ahead.
“Wait for me—!”
“Can’t you show some mercy to a beginner?!”
Stuffed Bun shouted into the wind, bouncing wildly atop the unsteady wyvern.
Their movements hadn’t gone unnoticed.
On the cliffs of Rockfort, an Earth Gnome Sentry turned to his partner, pointing at the sky.
“Look!”
“What is it?”
“Just a Two-Headed Dragon… wait—there’s a human on its back!”
“No way… They actually did it?”
The first Gnome held out his palm, smirking.
“I win. Hundred copper coins.”
The second Gnome scowled. “You didn’t even open the betting line! Get lost!”
But then, his eyes lingered on the scene—the human riding the beast, soaring into the sky.
He whispered, almost reverently:
“Those two… they’re about to fly higher than anyone ever thought possible.”
“Tell me about it. Dolo once sent six of his best to try the trial. Four died. Two ran. Lanpu made fun of him for months.”
“Hmph. Never thought those beasts with their brains full of slime could ever be ridden.”
“Yeah… I thought they were just mindless monsters.”
(End of Chapter)
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