Chapter 232: What Does "Hooking Up with the Princess" Mean? A Brother's Success Is More Torturous!

"Wait, weren't we talking about Gordon? Why are you showing me this blob that looks like a porkball of dragon flesh?"

The red dragon wiped drool from his mouth, eyes full of confusion.

Garoth said nothing, but his mental waves were far from calm; clearly surprised, his massive body in Dragon Valley—which had been lying down—propped itself up into a sitting position.

"That's Gordon."

Iron Dragon Sorog said slowly.

"But it seems he was treated like a test subject, subjected to some cruel pampering—his body twisted and fattened into a ball."

Samantha exclaimed in shock and anger.

"How vicious! Damn it, how dare they turn a noble dragon into a pork-beast!"

Her roar echoed across the Black Iron Plains; the alchemist workers on the production line around them tensed and hurried their tasks.

Garoth: "Did he set up a Bloodkin Chain with them?"

Sorog: "He did. I asked him why, but he kept silent—perhaps he’s too ashamed of his current state, his spirit crushed."

Garoth: "Link to him first. I'll ask about the situation."

Sorog: "Understood."

The iron dragon settled onto the high platform of the Steelspike Outpost, eyes closed. Using himself as a relay hub, he jolted his spiritual energy and lit up the strands of bloodline linking Gordon, folding all the Bloodkin Chains into one network.

At once.

The round, balloon-like mental projection appeared simultaneously in Garoth, Samantha, and Sorog’s mental sight. They could sense and communicate with one another, forming the Ignas brothers' "chat group."

"Once Sorog's rank rises higher..."

"This Ignas brothers group will one day become the Ignas family group."

Garoth thought to himself.

When he personally perceived Gordon’s mental state, even Garoth’s pupils contracted slightly.

Good grief—he really was fat and bloated.

Judging by bulk alone, Gordon's thickness rivaled Garoth's, perhaps even a touch larger. But Gordon's body was soft rolls of fat, greasy and flabby, whereas Garoth's was forged-steel muscle, imposing and awe-inspiring.

At that moment.

The mental projection of Iron Dragon Gordon cracked an eye open to observe his surroundings.

When he noticed Sorog, there was little reaction—after all, they had just connected.

But when he saw Garoth, his small eyes widened, his flesh-ripples rolling: "Ga... Garoth?!"

"It's me."

Garoth replied.

When Gordon clearly saw the imposing spikes and streamlined muscles of the red-iron dragon, reverent envy nearly filled his eyes: "This is the... exact image I’d always dreamed of!"

A Herculean, dominant frame.

A fierce, towering posture.

An aura of unquestioned authority.

...Ahhh! Why isn't it me?!

No—this can't continue. I must model myself after Garoth!

In the palace, Gordon's physical body involuntarily inhaled, the belly nearly touching the floor.

He glanced down at his round belly and, with a zeal he hadn't felt before, swore to control his diet—full of determination and ambition.

"Gordon, my foolish brother, haha, you're fat like a pork-beast—no, no pork-beast could match you. You’re like a super pork-beast in dragon skin."

Samantha’s sarcasm was ruthless.

Except in front of Garoth, her barbs were always sharp.

This familiar tone... met with Samantha's mocking, Gordon did not get angry. Instead, a strange sense of nostalgia washed over him.

"You red dragon with a brain full of muscle—what do you know?"

He shot back and defended himself.

"I'm just big-bellied, not obese! These are my strategic reserves. You’ll never have the chance to look like this."

He shook his body, meat-waves rippling, and snorted, "If we fought, I'll let you strike for ten minutes first—your claws won't even touch my flesh."

The red dragon didn't get mad; instead, he laughed again.

Gordon's retorts were flimsy and lacked real force.

"Enough chatter."

Garoth cut straight to the point, calm and deliberate: "Gordon, tell me—who turned you into this? What happened to you?"

Gordon fell silent, at a loss for words.

"Maintaining four Bloodkin Chains at once eats up considerable spiritual energy for me."

Sorog urged, "Gordon, if you have something to say, say it quickly. Don't dawdle."

After a few seconds of silence, Gordon flicked his short, stubby tail and sighed with a troubled look: "I honestly don't know where to begin. It's a long story."

Garoth asked, "Why are you within Federation territory?"

Though it stung his pride a bit, under the red-iron dragon's questioning Gordon answered truthfully: "I was captured by humans and taken away."

Once given a clear prompt,

he opened up and continued: "At that time, the Lothrian Kingdom's princess wanted a dragon as a companion, so I was sent to the royal court."

"I thought the court would be dangerous, but to my surprise, those humans lavished me with every favor, granting my every want."

"Especially Princess Elina—she even tightened her own expenses to give me the best care."

Silence.

Garoth, Sorog, Samantha—after hearing the fat iron dragon’s confession, all three dragons fell quiet.

The Bloodkin network was utterly still.

Under their watching silence, Gordon broke it: "You might think that me becoming a court pet is a disgrace to dragons."

"But I don't see it that way."

"After all, I don't have to do anything every day, and those humans provide for me unconditionally—preserving my scales with giant whale oil, feeding me rare delicacies...they're more like my servants."

"Yes, that's right—they're all my servants."

At that moment, Garoth understood.

Gordon had not been tortured like a test subject; he had been pampered beyond measure. Lazy and gluttonous by nature, indulging in court comforts had fattened him to this state.

Ever since he left Sky Pit Territory, he probably hadn’t experienced real hardship.

Damn it!

Garoth's eyelids twitched uncontrollably.

The Lothrian Kingdom is the Federation core—rich even as it falters—and it enjoys resources funneled from across the whole Federation.

A lazy fool like Gordon could be fattened to such grotesque size.

Imagine if all those resources had gone to Garoth instead.

Garoth couldn't begin to imagine what heights he might have reached.

A brother suffering is hateful, but a brother’s success can be agonizing in its own way.

This time, the young dragons in the convergence lands fell silent.

"Why are you all quiet?"

A few seconds later, Gordon asked.

Garoth took a deep breath to steady himself.

There's nothing to envy.

If fate doesn't smile on you, then rely on yourself—steadfast will, accumulated effort day and night—and gradually obtain everything you want.

"Gordon, I remember you once dreamed of going south—so in a way you achieved that."

The red-iron dragon reminded him: "With the Holy King gone, the Lothrian Federation is roiling beneath the surface; storm clouds gather. As an iron dragon, you should be clear on the situation."

At those words, Gordon sighed.

"I know—the atmosphere in the court has been tightening recently."

He spoke on his own: "But Princess Elina and I are of one mind."

"I already have my own princess. That's the first step to becoming a legendary villainous dragon. No matter what, I must find a way to protect Elina in the coming chaos—she is my most precious treasure."

Vicious dragons and princesses have always been a perfect match.

Those top-tier villain dragons, across their long lives, often seized princesses—either to make them consorts or to extort wealth, luring would-be rescuers into traps.

What does it mean for the princess to be smitten with you?

Garoth looked at Gordon's rotund body with disbelief.

The red dragon Samantha instantly launched a body-shot attack in the chat: "A princess would fall for a pork-beast like you? Even a peasant girl would turn and run."

Iron Dragon Gordon snorted: "You brainless red dragon, what do you know? I won't dignify you with more words."

If he were in human form, his plump appearance might be despised.

But he's a dragon—plump dragons are adored by humans. In the court, Gordon was a social darling; many nobles prided themselves on feeding him.

A viscount-level noble didn't even have the right to meet him.

"Heh, leaving aside everything else, Gordon—at your size you probably can only roll around, right? Can you even fly?" Samantha continued to mock.

As soon as Gordon appeared, she felt her IQ spike—no longer the weakest among the Ignas brothers.

"Like I said—you don't understand."

The fat iron dragon patted his wings, which were small compared to his body, and said: "The court's senior spellcasters personally inscribed runes on me—flight spells, float spell, haste...I have so many solidified spell effects that I lost count. I can fly much faster than you."

The red dragon snorted in disbelief.

"Enough. You two shut up for now. Let's talk business."

Garoth's words cut off Gordon and Samantha.

He asked Gordon: "Since you want to protect the princess and are staying in the Lothrian court for that reason, do you have any concrete plan right now?"