Tale of the Red Dragon Without Dragon’s Might
Chapter 232 - 231 The Weakness of the Red Dragon

Chapter 232: Chapter 231 The Weakness of the Red Dragon

Leon didn’t have anyone proficient in Healing Magic under his command. Cecilia had to resort to taking alchemical potions... but potions cost money, and she was unwilling to spend. Thus, she could only rely on her self-healing ability. Fortunately, it was just a surface wound, and dragons naturally had powerful regeneration capabilities.

The minor wounds had already healed, but the larger ones hadn’t scabbed over yet. Every movement brought a dull pain. Unable to sleep and with nothing better to do, Cecilia lay at the volcano’s edge, discussing strategies to deal with Danalan with Salovis.

As a Green Dragon, Cecilia’s approach was straightforward: find a way to corrupt that Elf City and turn all its elves to the forces of evil. If she could occupy that Elf City, she wouldn’t hesitate to move her lair there, no matter how troublesome the process.

Salovis’s idea was even simpler: pillage, burn, and slaughter.

Of course, the two of them—a young Green Dragon and a juvenile Red Dragon—were hardly significant compared to such a large Elf City. In terms of size, Danalan was actually much smaller than Watchtower Port, but it was still far larger than any Elf Village. At least it was a proper city. Still, dreaming big was commendable.

"Big brother seems to be back," Salovis suddenly said, lifting her head. With her sharp eyes, she spotted the silhouette of a Red Dragon soaring over the sea. Bathed in moonlight, he looked as dazzling as a magnificent Ruby Dragon. No wonder some people mistook him for one.

Cecilia walked toward the slowly descending Leon and said, "Why did you return so quickly, master?"

"Because all I did was issue a few threats," Leon replied, recounting everything that had happened during his trip to Danalan. He then lowered his gaze to the Green Dragon. "You’re not upset that I made a decision on my own, are you? A compensation of ten thousand Gold Coins should be enough to appease your anger."

Ten thousand Gold Coins was no small amount. Many dragons toiled for decades and still didn’t accumulate such wealth by the time they reached adulthood. For just a minor wound, being compensated that handsomely—no dragon would refuse. Cecilia, of course, was no exception.

A thought suddenly crossed her mind, and her eyes gleamed. "For just a small flesh wound, ten thousand Gold Coins is indeed too much. Five thousand Gold Coins will suffice."

"Only five thousand Gold Coins?" Salovis looked at Cecilia with disdain after hearing her words. "I’ve heard of people feeling shortchanged, but never someone disliking having too much money... Passing on ten thousand Gold Coins and settling for five? Are you stupid?"

Salovis was debating whether she should distance herself from the Green Dragon because, well, stupidity was rumored to be contagious.

How could their brother be so intelligent while his sister was such an idiot? Cecilia, for her part, was equally dismissive of the Red Dragon. "Young lady, do you not understand basic interpersonal dynamics? I’m taking five thousand Gold Coins for myself, and the remaining five thousand go to our master, as thanks for all his hard work on my behalf."

Salovis suddenly understood. Cecilia wasn’t stupid; she was greedy.

Leave it to a Green Dragon to pull off something like this. No, an average Green Dragon might not even be capable of such finesse—they’d hoard emotions but cling to material wealth. Leon looked at Cecilia with satisfaction, considering whether to offer a polite remark, but ultimately resisted the urge.

After all, he was currently broke.

Having traveled extensively, Leon hadn’t exhausted his Mana entirely but had used up a significant amount. He desperately needed rest. After exchanging a few words, he promptly went to relax, diving into the molten lava pool. Submerging himself entirely, he rested his head on the pool’s edge and let his mind wander as he drifted off to sleep.

That Elf City truly had some formidable defenses. Just the Maze Lock alone allowed the elves within to ignore his fear-inducing aura. Presumably, the Soul Summoning Mantra would also be ineffective. That left him with the Samadhi True Fire—a limited area-of-effect Spell, which significantly reduced his killing efficiency. To make matters worse, he struggled to bypass the Maze Lock.

The elf woman clad in Secret Silver Armor wasn’t weak, and the Elf General named Eran was formidable. Beyond that, there were scores of other powerful elves. Without enough Mana to maintain his Vajra Body, he wouldn’t last long in a fight. Unless he brought an entire army to divert their attacks, his position would be precarious.

Given these conditions, he couldn’t afford prolonged combat. If his Mana dropped to half, he’d have to consider retreating. Otherwise, he might find himself unable to escape when danger became apparent.

Above all, he couldn’t be like other hot-headed Red Dragons, often refusing to flee or compromise even when outmatched, all for the sake of pride. Didn’t they realize survival was more important than reputation? Better to live shamelessly than die gloriously.

Without a doubt, that Elf City couldn’t be conquered in one go—it would require prolonged harassment and meticulous planning.

...

...

While Leon dreamed on his Volcanic Island, Danalan—distant from the volcanic chaos—had already returned to order. The wounded received treatment, and the mess left by the Red Dragon was cleaned up. Generals and councilmen gathered around a circular table at a meeting.

Eran leaned slightly forward, his hands resting on the table as he scanned the room. "Let’s hear your opinions," he said.

The historical division of the Elf Clan gave rise to three subspecies: High Elves, Wood Elves, and those commonly referred to as Drow, the Dark Elves.

From his copper-toned skin and black hair, it was clear that the speaker was a Wood Elf. "That Red Dragon is unusual. Unlike typical Red Dragons, which exude sulfur and floating stone fumes, he’s more akin to fae creatures, like the Moonstone Dragons birthed in the Fairy Wilderness. He might be a Mixed-blood Dragon."

"Unlike most Red Dragons, which are often driven by rage, this one is decidedly rational," said an elegant Elf Mage with flowing golden hair. "Rational Red Dragons aren’t unheard of, but a Red Dragon proficient with a sword—this is my first encounter. I assumed the rumors were exaggerated, nothing more than hearsay. Evidently, I was wrong."

Most Great Mages were elderly for a reason: the precision required in Spellcasting—postures, components, and incantations—necessitated years of meticulous practice to master.

Among mortals, elves were uniquely suited to mastering Spells. Their centuries-long lifespans gave them ample time to study, while their trance states allowed them to reinforce their learned knowledge even during rest.

Danalan housed many mages. One of them spoke up: "The fire that Red Dragon expelled wasn’t ordinary. I examined the charred gates—those doors were designed to be fireproof, yet his flames rendered them vulnerable. Conventional Magic proved useless against it."

An elf with a Ranger’s attire chimed in. "Neither arrows nor blades... It’s as if that Red Dragon turned to iron. Our weapons had no effect on him whatsoever."

"Furthermore, none of our Spells worked on him—whether ice, lightning, strong acid, or Dark Erosion," a black-haired mage said grimly. "It’s not Invincibility or some protective Magic shielding him from harm. It’s as if his body transformed into a form harder than iron, utterly impervious."

"Control Magic works," said a Wood Elf Druid. "Entangling vines managed to immobilize him briefly, though they didn’t last long. His strength is immense; he broke free with a single pull. If we had more people, we might be able to Bind him."

A pale High Elf, whose alabaster skin gleamed like gypsum, spoke. "We must remain vigilant. That Red Dragon is cunning—he’s not foolish enough to wait for us to prepare fully. He’s more likely to set this place ablaze and shift his attention elsewhere."

"And besides, he isn’t alone," the High Elf continued. "According to intelligence, his subordinates include a Green Dragon, a Blue Dragon, and a powerful Efreeti. Some reports even claim two Red Dragons have been spotted flying together."

"We need allies," said one Elf councilman. "We should summon the Great Druid."

"Perhaps we can cooperate with the Red Dragon," suggested another, leaning toward pacifism. "He doesn’t demand our submission. He only seeks compensation and trade agreements. We’ve traded at Watchtower Port before; there’s no reason we can’t continue now."

The discussion grew chaotic, with over a dozen voices vying for attention over the next hour.

Eran noticed an Elf woman among them—a promising young talent who, with cultivation, could become a cornerstone of Danalan’s future. She repeatedly hesitated to speak, so he gently encouraged, "It looks like you have something to say, Vilanser."

"Yes, I do," Vilanser admitted, taking a deep breath. "Even if he wields a sword and multiple Spells, the primary issue isn’t his offensive capabilities; it’s his overwhelming defense. Neither physical nor Magic Damage seems to have any effect."

"If he’s truly that invincible..." Vilanser paused. "Then why does he wear Dragon Armor? It seems unnecessary, doesn’t it?"

"You mean..." Eran trailed off, deep in thought.

"The secret might lie beneath that Dragon Armor," Vilanser explained. "If we can peel it off him, we might find a way to seriously wound him."

"That Dragon Armor is hideous. It certainly can’t be something a dandy wears just to show off." Vilanser shrugged. "Surely, that Red Dragon isn’t that childish, is he?"