Chapter 623: Red Emperor, We Adore You!
Serene Spirit Wilderness, Verdant Homeland.
Clusters of giant ferns grew on the ground, streams winding out from their roots, the water's surface shimmering with a silvery-white light like melted moonlight spread across the earth. The air was thick with the scent of wild honey and flowers.
In the distance.
A circular stage woven from countless vines rose from the ground.
The vines were as thick as a dragon's neck, intertwining and climbing, forming tiered circular bleachers around the stage.
The bleachers were packed with fey.
Tiny pique spirits, flower fairies with dragonfly wings, tree spirits covered in moss... They crowded together, chattering and laughing, the atmosphere as lively as a festival.
And on the central stage was the faerie dragon Vira.
At this moment, while her size hadn't changed much, her overall silhouette had shifted into the form of a red iron dragon.
Her scales layered, her muscles defined, exuding an imposing air without even trying.
She had even mimicked the red iron dragon's aura, her chin slightly raised, her gaze looking down from above.
"Tremble! Evil god!"
Vira's version of the Red Emperor opened her maw and let out a roar.
Across from her, a few pique spirits dressed as Dragonblight flapped their wings, trembling and backing away with exaggerated movements, their wings beating with a thumping sound, their faces twisted in fake terror.
"T-Too terrifying!"
One pique spirit screeched, "The Red Emperor is here! We're no match for him!"
"Retreat! Quick retreat!"
Another pique spirit turned to flee.
But Vira was faster.
She chased after them and stomped on the tail of the last 'Dragonblight' straggler.
"Ah! The Red Emperor is too strong, I'm dead!"
The pique spirit let out an exaggerated shriek, then fell flat on its back, tongue lolling out, playing dead, one eye cracked open to peek at the audience's reaction.
"Number one!"
The faerie dragon roared to the sky, her voice brimming with pride, "The Chromatic Queen's lackeys, nothing but this! Who's next? Who else wants to die?"
The bleachers erupted in laughter and applause.
The fey clapped, some even flying up in excitement.
On the stage, led by the Storm Dragon, more Dragonblight surged forward.
A Five-Headed Evil Dragon, played by several tree spirits working together, charged out from the right side of the stage. Its five heads, made of branches, wobbled unsteadily, letting out childish hisses.
Each head's expression was identical.
Some ferocious, some sly, some sinister... The white dragon's head looked a bit comical because its branches weren't tied tightly enough.
"Charge!"
"Kill the Red Emperor!"
The Dragonblight shouted as they swarmed forward.
Vira was unflustered.
She first swiped a claw to knock over the leading Storm Dragon, then spun and whipped her tail, sending a circle of Dragonblight flying. The fey struck by her tail scattered like bowling balls, hanging from vines or falling into the audience's laps, sparking a wave of laughter.
Then, Vira spread her wings, and a blinding light burst from her entire body.
Of course, it was a magical illusion, but for the fey audience below, the effect was stunning enough.
"The evil god from hell."
The Red Emperor swaggered toward the Five-Headed Dragon, laughing heartily.
"Bernardo is no place for you!"
She raised a front claw, pointing at the Five-Headed Dragon, her voice booming, "But since you're here, haha! Get ready, the great Red Emperor is going to humiliate you right here!"
"Hooray!"
A cheer erupted from the bleachers.
The fey were glued to the scene, completely captivated by the performance.
In the distance, at the top of a towering giant fern.
Garoth stood on a thick branch, his arms crossed.
He was in humanoid form now, his physique imposing, his shoulders broad, his dark red hair tinged with a faint purple by the twilight. He wore a black hunting jacket that outlined the contours of his chest and abdomen, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing muscular arms.
Watching the stage play like a theatrical performance.
Garoth's eye twitched slightly, his expression indescribable.
Just then.
Beside him, another figure landed lightly on another branch.
Deborah.
She was slightly older than Garoth, but her humanoid form was unchanged.
Petite and delicate, as lively as a young girl.
Her long hair fell to her waist, the ends slightly curled, dyed a warm color by the twilight.
She wore a short silver-gray dress, the hem just above her knees, revealing a stretch of fair, slender calves. On her feet were a pair of dark brown boots, their tops speckled with a few green fern leaves.
Deborah tilted her head and glanced at Garoth, a mischievous smile curling at the corners of her mouth.
"Who would have thought."
"Our Red Emperor is already stepping on deities so quickly. Should I bow to you? Should I address you as 'Your Great Majesty'?"
Garoth turned his head to look at the brass-silver dragon girl, shaking his head slightly.
"There's too much exaggeration in that."
He said seriously, "Defeating an avatar is one thing; defeating a true deity is another. Besides, that wasn't even an avatar—it was just a temporary vessel for a sliver of divine will descending."
"I'm still far from being able to contend with a true deity. A long way off."
With that, Garoth withdrew his gaze and looked back at the faerie dragon on stage, who was now noisily punching and kicking the Five-Headed Evil Dragon.
"But..."
He shifted the topic, "It's just that I can't do it now. In the distant future, I will silence the gods and earn the reverence of all creation."
His tone wasn't passionate; it was almost flat.
As if he were stating something that was bound to happen, not expressing some grand ambition.
Across from him, Deborah was silent for a few seconds, then let out a soft laugh.
"You know?"
"The feeling you give me now is like those traditional stories of dragon overlords."
"You know, the ones perched on volcanic rims, looking down on all, arrogant and unbridled, with no gods in their eyes. Every other word is about heaven and earth, and the rest is about being the only one."
She paused, tilting her head to examine him, and said, "You kind of pull it off."
Garoth turned his head, his gaze landing on her face.
"And you?"
He suddenly reached out a finger, gently lifting her chin upward, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"My dear Deborah, do you like me like this?"
Deborah froze.
Her cheeks flushed visibly red, from her cheeks all the way to her ears, like a sunset settling on her face.
Deborah instinctively tried to look away, but with her chin held, she couldn't escape.
Her eyes darted nervously across Garoth's face before finally breaking free from his grip. She looked down at the fern leaves on her boots.
"...I do."
She bit her lip and whispered.
Though they had known each other since youth and had been officially bonded for over three hundred years, Deborah still occasionally showed a shy side around Garoth.
Especially when he looked at her with that direct, focused gaze.
Garoth didn't say anything. He simply pulled the blushing girl gently into his arms, holding her close.
Deborah's heartbeat gradually steadied.
She leaned against his chest, feeling the strong rhythm of his heartbeat and the familiar warmth that made her feel safe.
The two of them enjoyed the quiet moment together, silently watching the faerie dragon's passionate performance on stage.
But the peace didn't last long.
Another figure stepped out from behind the fern thicket.
Tall and slender, her long golden hair was tied into a high ponytail that hung down her back, swaying gently with her steps.
It was the humanoid Gold Dragon, Nasha.
She wore a form-fitting white shirt under a light armor vest, a short sword hanging from her belt, dark riding pants, and knee-high boots. She looked clean and sharp, with the crisp efficiency of a warrior.
She first glanced at Deborah, then at Garoth.
Her gaze swept back and forth between them a couple of times, then she raised an eyebrow.
"Garoth, Deborah."
Nasha's tone was light and teasing, "You two have known each other for how long now? Hundreds of years? And you're still here dawdling and blushing? I thought you two would have gotten past this stage by now."
"If you ask me, don't waste time."
"Just find an open space and have some fun, better than standing around here."
Hearing this, Deborah's face instantly turned crimson.
She snapped her head up, glaring at Nasha, her eyes full of embarrassment and annoyance. Then, the girl turned, breaking free from the arm holding her.
She leaped down from the giant fern, landing nimbly on another branch, and ran off without looking back.
Her skirt fluttered in the twilight like a startled butterfly.
In the blink of an eye, she vanished into a patch of giant ferns.
Nasha watched Deborah's fleeing back and smirked with satisfaction.
She turned her head to Garoth and took two steps closer to him.
"Alright, the bother's gone."
She extended her right hand, her long fingers flexing slightly, cracking her knuckles. "Garoth, my hands are itching. I want this naturally evil red iron dragon to taste the power of a Gold Dragon."
With that, she assumed a fighting stance, her center of gravity lowering slightly, her gaze fixed on Garoth.
Garoth looked at her, then his body blurred.
With speed that defied his size, he appeared in front of Nasha in an instant. His right hand swept around her waist, his arm tightening as he lifted her off the ground, carrying her in his arms.
"Put me down!"
"You brute, you villain!"
Nasha snapped out of it, pounding his back with her fists, producing a dull thudding sound.
To no avail.
Ignoring her struggles, Garoth hoisted her over his shoulder, leaned forward, and chased after Deborah in the direction she had fled.
The branches shook violently.
A few leaves drifted down, spiraling into the stream and floating away with the current.
In the distance, the faerie dragon's stage play continued.
The fey's cheers from the bleachers rose in waves, one after another. Vira was standing at the center of the stage, delivering a rousing speech to the 'Five-Headed Evil Dragon'.
As the sky gradually darkened, before long, the stage play ended.
The fey dispersed reluctantly, flying off in twos and threes, still excitedly discussing the plot.
Vira stood on the empty stage.
She looked around, but she didn't see Garoth anywhere.
"Annoying Garoth."
She thought indignantly, "He ran off before my performance even ended. What could be more interesting than Miss Vira's brilliant act? I outdid myself today!"
The faerie dragon muttered to herself as she flew away from the stage.
She decided to find Deborah and get her opinion on the performance.
Deborah was always a good audience, giving fair feedback every time. Not like Garoth, who always watched with a blank face, making it impossible to tell if he actually liked it.
It was worth noting that—
Vira was gradually losing interest in simple storytelling. Lately, she had become obsessed with telling stories through stage plays.
In the Verdant Homeland, this method had received unanimous praise. The fey loved the lively, interactive performances, and Vira herself enjoyed standing at the center of the stage, feeling all eyes on her.
However.
After making a full circuit of the Verdant Homeland, Vira still couldn't find Deborah.
She flew to every place Deborah usually went, but there was no dragon to be found.
Even Gold Dragon Nasha wasn't there.
Thinking about Garoth...
"They must have gone out to play together and left me out."
The faerie dragon reached this conclusion and ground her teeth in anger, making a clicking sound.
"I'll sneak some ash into their nostrils when they're asleep!"
She thought maliciously, then pictured Garoth's dazed expression when he was woken up by the coughing fit. Deciding it was a good plan, her mood improved slightly.
And so.
Time passed, and a month went by without notice.
Garoth returned to the Verdant Homeland from the vast Serene Spirit Wilderness.
The imposing dragon landed on the ground, and the moment he appeared, countless fey erupted in cheers and applause.
The fey weren't afraid of the dragon's majesty. Instead, they swarmed toward him, crowding around him, waving their arms and hopping, like a crowd welcoming a victorious hero.
"Ah! The Red Emperor is here!"
"Red Emperor! Red Emperor! We adore you!"
A few flower fairies flew up to his face, circling his head, making sounds of amazement.
Hearing the fey's cheers, the red iron dragon nodded slightly, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Little ones."
He looked down at the fey, his voice deep, "Tell me, were you born to revere me, to submit to me?"
"Yes, yes!"
The fey nodded vigorously, their little heads bobbing up and down like a flock of sparrows pecking at food.
"We revere the Red Emperor the most!"
"Of course! The Red Emperor is our most beloved! To submit to the Red Emperor is our honor."
Garoth lowered his gaze, his eyes sweeping over these little creatures.
"And was I born to rule over you?"
He asked again, "Is my rule a sweet nectar to you?"
The fey exchanged glances for a moment, then burst into even louder laughter.
They seemed to find the question utterly unserious, even amusing.
"We love the Red Emperor's rule the most!"
A flower fairy flapped her wings and shrieked.
"Praise to you, Red Emperor. Your presence fills our days with endless joy! You are our Fairy King in our hearts!"
"Rule over us forever! Great Red Emperor!"
A tree spirit raised its branch-like arm, as if celebrating a grand festival.
In their understanding, 'rule' meant the Red Emperor protecting them, allowing them to escape the covetous eyes of evil fey and enjoy each day without worry.
They didn't need to pay taxes, serve in any capacity, or even do anything.
All they had to do was live happily.
Garoth lifted his head slightly, folding his wings a bit to look more imposing.
"Then."
"Come polish my scales and show me your devotion."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the fey perked up, their eyes lighting up like tiny lanterns.
"Let me, let me!"
"I'll do it! I polish the cleanest! I did a great job last time!"
"Move aside, I'm the professional!"
They swarmed forward with fiery enthusiasm, like a tide of colors washing over Garoth's limbs.
Pique spirits clutched scraps of cloth they'd found somewhere and flew up to his sides, scrubbing his scales with all their might; flower fairies used their petals to dab dew onto his scales, humming tuneless little songs as they worked; tree spirits used their rough but nimble fingers to scrape dirt from the gaps between scales, their movements meticulous.
Garoth remained still.
He could feel those tiny fingers, scraps of cloth, and petals gliding over his scales. One flower fairy even hung entirely from his dragon horn, using her sleeve to vigorously polish the tip, her face red from the effort.
"Here, the joint of the left claw."
Garoth lifted a foreclaw, directing them.
A few tree spirits immediately scurried over and began scrubbing with a will.
"And the tail."
He flicked his tail.
A swarm of flower fairies buzzed toward his tail, busying themselves around its tip.
Twilight bathed the scene.
The massive, imposing red iron dragon stood on the green grass, surrounded by a colorful swarm of tiny figures, jumping and bustling about, the occasional argument breaking out.
"I saw this scale first! Don't you dare steal it!"
"You're too half-hearted! The Red Emperor's scales need to be polished with love! What's this casual wiping supposed to be?"
"Move, let me do it... I've got the strength!"
Garoth closed his eyes, his breathing gradually calming.
In the Serene Spirit Wilderness, emotional reactions were amplified, but the same was true for emotional contagion.
When he was surrounded by the fey in the Verdant Homeland, the emotional changes from his mutation, along with his own frequent anxiety and unease, were soothed to some extent.
The Serene Spirit Wilderness was vast and boundless, home to fey deities.
It was a major plane.
But at least here, in the Verdant Homeland and the surrounding faerie gardens, it was now no different from his own backyard.
Whenever he went through an intense battle or had an emotional crisis,
Garoth would come to the Verdant Homeland to relax and calm his emotions, preventing himself from making too big a mistake out of impulse or stubbornness.
The fey's chattering didn't bother Garoth either.
Their voices rose and fell, weaving together like ambient white noise, calming his thoughts instead.
And so, surrounded by the fey, he slowly dozed off.
Time slipped by in the quiet, soothing wind.
After who knows how long.
The red iron dragon opened his eyes.
His vision was still a bit blurry. He blinked, then noticed something hovering right above his nose, less than a foot from his pupil.
The faerie dragon, Vira.
She was squatting on the bridge of his nose, her front paws resting on the edge, her head slightly tilted, her big, unblinking eyes staring right at him, her pupils reflecting his image.
Like a cat perched on a branch, observing its prey.
They stared at each other.
Garoth was silent for a moment.
Then he let out a soft breath.
Whoosh!
A stream of air surged from his mouth, just strong enough to blow the little thing squatting on his nose flying.
Vira tumbled three or four times in the air, flapping her wings frantically to steady herself.
She hovered in midair, puffing her cheeks in anger as she flew back.
"Hey, what's your problem!"
"I was observing you! Do you know how hard I was concentrating? Blowing me away like that ruined my rhythm!"
Garoth ignored her protests.
He lowered his head to examine his body, then paused slightly.
His scales were thoroughly waxed and polished, gleaming brightly, smooth as a series of mirrors pieced together. The edges of every scale had been meticulously cleaned, and not a speck of dust remained in the gaps.
He could even see his own reflection in the scales.
Even more exaggeratedly, some of his claws and certain scales had been painted with delicate narcissus patterns.
The lines were fine, the colors soft.
They should have looked out of place on his hard, cold scales, but they had actually blended perfectly.
"Well?"
Vira flew in front of him, taking credit, her tone full of pride, "While you were asleep, I directed the fey to give you a beauty treatment."
"Looks good, right? I put a lot of thought into it. Just planning out the patterns nearly broke my brain."
Garoth opened his mouth to say something.
Suddenly, a tickling sensation erupted deep in his nostrils.
Ah-choo!
A giant sneeze exploded without warning.
Air gushed from his nostrils, carrying a puff of fine gray powder that dispersed into the air.
Garoth sniffled, then lowered his gaze to the faerie dragon.
Under the dragon's stare, Vira immediately defended herself:
"It wasn't me. I didn't put ash in your nostrils."
"Absolutely not."
Garoth looked at her in silence.
Vira puffed out her chest and repeated, "Really! Would I do something like that?"
Garoth said slowly, "I hadn't even asked yet, and you were already quick to answer."
Vira froze for a second, then blinked rapidly and said seriously, "Then ask me again. This time, I'll wait until you're done before answering."
Garoth glanced at her sideways and asked, "Who put ash in my nostrils?"
Vira tilted her head, putting on an innocent expression, her eyes batting, her lips slightly pouting, looking pure and harmless with no bad intentions.
"I don't know."
"Maybe it was the wind. You know how the wind in the Serene Spirit Wilderness can be, sometimes it gets moody and likes to play tricks. It might have thought your nostrils were a good place to stash some ash... and, well, took the opportunity to sprinkle some in."
"In any case, it wasn't me."
Garoth stared at her for a few seconds.
In the end, he didn't call her out.
The great dragon slowly rose to his feet, standing upright, spreading his wings behind him, stirring up a breeze. The narcissus patterns on his scales gleamed, adding a touch of soft beauty to his imposing posture.
"I'm heading back to Bernardo."
"When I have new stories, I'll come back here."
He said to the faerie dragon.
Vira immediately flew over, hovering in front of him.
"Wait, wait!"
"Don't rush off. Let me take another look at you. You've changed forms quite a bit this time. I need to study you properly, or I won't remember."
The faerie dragon flew in front of him, backed up a bit, and tilted her head to study his overall silhouette.
Then she flew closer, staring at the scales on his chest for a few seconds, before circling around to his side to observe the angle of his spread wings and the thickness of his wing membranes. Finally, she flew above him, looking down at the line of his spine and the distribution of his muscles.
"Hmm... this muscle configuration... hmm... this wingspan ratio..."
Vira muttered to herself as she observed, murmuring under her breath.
She circled Garoth a dozen times before finally stopping.
"Alright!"
"I've memorized the details of this form. It looks incredibly strong, hehe. Soon, it's going to be mine."
The faerie dragon said delightedly, her tone full of anticipation.
She was also looking forward to Garoth's new form.
Because it meant she could also change into a new form. It wouldn't match Garoth's original, but it was good enough for her.
In the Serene Spirit Wilderness, there were plenty of monsters born from negative emotions.
When they attacked the Verdant Homeland, Vira could show off her skills, drive them away with her new form, and bask in the admiration and cheers of her companions.
The red iron dragon turned his head.
He took one last look at the twilight of the Verdant Homeland and the fey peeking out longingly from a distance, then extended a front claw and tore open a rift.
"I'm off."
With a flap of his wings, his body lifted off the ground, and his form vanished into the rift.
Peaceful times were always fleeting.
After the battle with the Storm Dragon, he had rested for a while. Now, it was time to regroup and get back to work.