Chapter 34: The Way to Raise a Wicked Dragon

The morning breeze gently brushed by, red maple leaves fluttering down. A man and a woman stood before a crying Brass Dragon.

The man’s face was handsome without blemish, tall and slender with powerful arms and a slim waist. His long silver-white hair was tied up with an ice crystal hairpin, and a faceted ice soul dangled from his left ear. His skin was as pale and translucent as fresh snow, and when he smiled, the breath he exhaled formed tiny frost flowers in the air.

The woman beside him was beautiful, with freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, always carrying a mischievous smile. Her honey-colored skin contrasted with the copper-colored curls entwined with metallic thread-like hairbands.

They were the parents of the Brass Dragon Deborah. Though appearing human, they were actually middle-aged dragons over two hundred years old—metallic dragons favored human forms and often transformed to live in human guise.

The man was the father of the Brass Dragon, a Silver Dragon named Frostmark Edri.

The woman was the mother, a Brass Dragon named Copperflame Serena.

Their tightly clasped hands did not loosen despite their crying offspring, as if they were the true lovers and Deborah was just an accident.

“The dignity and treasure of metallic dragons are equally important.”

“As descendants of metallic dragons, you should hold courage in your heart and steadfast will.”

“Since you returned safely, it’s not a big problem. Stop crying; crying solves nothing.”

The Silver Dragon father spoke.

The Brass Dragon mother rolled her eyes at her partner, displeased. “Don’t be so rigid. Deborah was bullied by a wicked dragon on her first adventure outside. It’s normal to cry a little.”

When it came to choosing partners, Brass Dragons highly valued their mate’s intelligence and sense of humor, believing these traits key to a long-lasting relationship.

Those who could catch their puns, riddles, or pranks, even turn the tables, had a keen appreciation for verbal artistry or excelled at improvisation were especially admired by Brass Dragons.

Silver Dragon Edri was not good at any of these.

He was a rather stern and dull Silver Dragon.

Even so, Serena found it hard to resist his pursuit—more accurately, she was the one pursuing him.

—Silver Dragons were just too handsome.

Among dragons, Silver Dragons ranked top in appearance, and both males and females were highly sought after.

Returning to the matter at hand, Serena smiled at her offspring and said, “My dear Deborah, what happened to you? Tell me in detail, make me happy.”

The father was stern.

The mother used humor to ease the mood.

Deborah cried harder, sobbing so much she struggled to speak.

Serena kicked a nearby stone that bounced off her daughter’s head, grinning, “Now it’s riddle time—what causes you pain and sadness, yet makes you stronger and stronger?”

Brass Dragons loved riddles by nature.

Deborah stopped crying and hesitantly answered, “Failure?”

Serena snapped her fingers, blew a kiss through the air, and happily said, “Correct! Here’s a flying kiss from your mother as a reward.”

Having answered correctly and understood her mother’s meaning, Deborah’s emotions gradually calmed, and she recounted everything in detail.

“A Red Iron Hybrid Dragon?”

Serena blinked and looked at her mate.

The Silver Dragon nodded slightly. “Most likely the offspring of the Steel Queen and the Wing of the Burning Mountain.”

Red Dragons and Iron Dragons rarely combined. As far as the Silver Dragon knew, there was only this one pair in the Ser Wilderness. Unexpectedly, they had produced a hybrid dragon that, according to Deborah’s description, inherited the powerful traits of both parents.

“A dragon alone in the wild should have been exiled and is now struggling to survive on its own.”

The Silver Dragon shook his head slightly as he spoke.

“How pitiful. Wicked dragons are truly despicable.”

“To be able to fight against Deborah, who is armed with alchemical tools and such mature mind, it must have endured many hardships.”

Serena sighed and said.

Opposite them, Brass Dragon Deborah’s eyes widened.

No, this isn’t right.

Shouldn’t you be furious? Why are you sympathizing with that hateful Red Iron Wicked Dragon?

Seeing her daughter’s thoughts, the Silver Dragon said calmly, “Deborah, wicked dragons are evil partly because of their inherent heritage and personality, but also due to their life experiences.”

“Your mother and I believe that if a wicked dragon grows up surrounded by kindness, it has the chance to become a good and just individual.”

“Unfortunately, nearly all wicked dragons abandon their offspring, and the young dragons who struggle alone endure endless hardships. Their evil nature only grows, twisting their hearts until they become the evil beings we know as adults.”

Upon hearing this, Deborah fell silent, beginning to feel sympathy for the poor dragon that had stolen from her.

“Why is it like this? Shouldn’t family ties and blood bonds bring dragons closer together?”

She asked.

Serena thought for a moment and said, “Abandonment is actually a way wicked dragons raise their offspring.”

“In equal-level combat, we metallic dragons are often inferior to wicked dragons, because from their youth, wicked dragons fight for their lives against harsh fate. Although many die young, those who survive become strong, while our metallic dragons are more uneven.”

Deborah paced left and right, swaying her tail.

After a few seconds, she stopped and hesitated, “Then what should I do? Should I just swallow my anger and let it take my things?”

The Silver and Brass Dragons exchanged a glance and said, “Of course not.”

“What you should do is defeat it, capture it, train it, and gradually turn it into a righteous dragon.”

“Turning a wicked dragon into a good dragon is ten or even a hundred times the achievement of simply defeating one.”

Deborah’s eyes brightened, finally knowing what to do.

“My dear father, give me some stronger alchemical tools. I will find it and make it turn good!”

The young Brass Dragon rubbed her head against her human-formed father, adorably begging.

“Relying solely on alchemical tools isn’t the right path.”

The Silver Dragon said sternly, “You lack practical experience. I will train you harshly for a while, then give you an alchemical tool and let you handle your own affairs.”

This failure made Deborah realize how lacking her combat experience was.

She nodded without argument.

Iron Fir Hills.

Under the scorching noon sun, Garoth lay resting on a rock slab, feeling lazy but in good spirits. Training with alchemical tools was working well, boosting his mood.

“If only I could find more surplus metallic dragons, or even rob another Brass Dragon,” Garoth thought, then closed his eyes to bask in the sun and rest.

Several days later.

Garoth had Samantha use her fiery breath on him to further improve his flame resistance.

With treasure dangling before her, Samantha worked harder than before. The fiery breath burned and hurt Garoth at the same time—pain mixed with pleasure. His body’s buffer scales shimmered like branding irons under the fiery breath’s impact.

After a while, Samantha was almost burned out, her tongue lolling as she collapsed, gasping for breath.

Garoth pulled off a buffer scale from his body. The branding iron color was fading slowly, but at the edges, a faint trace remained. These buffer scales seemed to be evolving in some uncertain direction.

Crack.

The ground in front suddenly cracked open.

Garoth shifted his gaze and fixed it on a Soil Spider rushing out of the crevice.