Tale of the Red Dragon Without Dragon’s Might
Chapter 318 - 313: The Third Party

Chapter 318: Chapter 313: The Third Party

Silver Dragons often clash with Red Dragons, partly because they tend to nest in similar terrains, and partly because Silver Dragons disdain the Red Dragons’ love for slaughter and penchant for destruction.

Your true rival often knows you better than anyone else. A Silver Dragon might understand Red Dragons more deeply: the most greedy True Dragon, an arrogant tyrant, a hot-tempered marauder...

Under such circumstances, Isily absolutely refused to believe that Leon was a Red Dragon. In her mind, Leon, aside from enjoying jokes and boasting, was hardly flawed—he paid for meals, expressed gratitude when helped, detested evil, and acted ruthlessly against cultists...

"These glasses seem to be broken." Isily frowned, took off the glasses, huddled her hands, and wiped the lenses with her sleeve before putting them back on, only to find no change.

"Such a valuable magical artifact can’t possibly break just like that," Leon said with a chuckle.

"But they show you’re a Red Dragon. A Red Dragon!"

Isily gestured wildly as she exclaimed, "You can’t be a Red Dragon. Do you even know how greedy, arrogant, self-centered, conceited, vicious, and vindictive Red Dragons are? They’re the archetype of Evil Dragons across all cultures! They don’t even spare their own kind—they attack, kill the weaker among them, and take over their lairs."

Isily went on an endless tirade, her criticism of Red Dragons could easily surpass even the chattiest Brass Dragon.

"Yet they see themselves as kings, ranking first among Colorful Dragons—or rather, among all dragons—while other dragons bow beneath them. A Red Dragon who demands the whole world and every creature obey him... yet at the end of the day, not even he’s a match for a Silver Dragon." Isily suddenly broke into laughter.

In the battles between Red Dragons and Silver Dragons, Silver Dragons usually come out on top. The reason is simple: Red Dragons prefer solitary lives, while Silver Dragons are surrounded by numerous friends, often humanoids—powerful humans, elves, and the like, who are no weaker than dragons.

Having vented her frustrations, Isily looked satisfied as she said, "You didn’t mind me using those glasses earlier. Does that mean you know they’re defective?"

Leon shook his head and replied, "I don’t have abilities of that caliber."

"Well then... consider yourself lucky. These glasses just happened to malfunction." Isily said, "There’s nothing more. I’m leaving."

"Leaving just like that?" Leon asked, "Don’t you want to uncover my true identity?"

"Didn’t you refuse to divulge it?" Isily retorted.

"I could tell you directly," Leon said, sounding slightly weary.

"No, I don’t want to hear it," Isily replied. "I want to figure out your real identity in my own way."

Leon burst out laughing.

"What’s so funny?" Isily asked.

"What’s so funny indeed..." Leon grinned, "You’re clever—clever enough not to actually believe the glasses are broken, but instead unwilling to accept my true identity. Because admitting who I am means you’d have to face me... Seeing a kidnapper’s face might give you a slim chance to live, but once you recognize the kidnapper, you’re as good as dead."

Isily fell silent.

True, she was a novice adventurer, but she had read plenty of adventure novels.

In those books, the foolish heroine who exposed the villain’s true identity immediately and suffered harm was her least favorite trope. The smarter course of action was to feign ignorance, wait until reaching a secure place, and have allies close before confronting the villain.

Edwin didn’t mind selling himself to a Red Dragon to survive, and Isily didn’t want to throw in the towel either. She declared, "You can’t be a Red Dragon. Your behavior doesn’t match. A Ruby Dragon—you must be a Ruby Dragon! I heard Ruby Dragons look quite similar to Red Dragons from afar."

Which was why Leon increasingly enjoyed toying with people, as he replied, "You’re the Platinum Dragon, and I am the Ruby Dragon."

"Indeed, I am the Platinum Dragon, the child of the Platinum Dragon." Isily stated without error, as Platinum Dragon Bahamut is the God of Good Dragons and creator of Metal Dragons—a counterpart to Tiamat, the creator of Colorful Dragons. All Metal Dragons could claim to be descended from the Platinum Dragon.

Leon simply laughed—laughed so hard he bent over, unable to contain himself.

Isily suddenly shouted at Leon, transforming back into her Dragon Form as she said, "These glasses were given to me by my uncle because he feared you might be trouble... It appears his concern wasn’t unwarranted."

"If he could give me glasses, do you think he wouldn’t provide anything else?" Isily pulled out a silver scale from beneath her wing. "As long as I crush this scale, my uncle will sense my position and rush here from Bern immediately."

Isily advanced rather than retreating, saying, "My uncle is a strong young Silver Dragon, just a step away from becoming an elder Silver Dragon. Someone like you, a Red Dragon, would last no more than one round before he snapped your neck... You still have time to escape."

...

...

Leon and Isily were on a mountaintop just outside the Frost Giant city—close enough for any Frost Giant with working ears and eyes to notice the shouting Silver Dragon.

"A Silver Dragon?" The Frost Giant Warlord naturally spotted the Silver Dragon. "What a gorgeous Silver Dragon."

"Are you taken with her, my lord?" The one speaking was a somewhat pale-skinned woman with glassy-blue eyes dressed in a fur coat. Aside from the frost dust scattered across her shoulders, arms, and face, she was strikingly beautiful—she was the Frost Wind Witch.

Many Frost Wind Witches styled themselves as monarchs of the tundra, ruling the local creatures of cold climates. Yet quite a few earned a place among Frost Giants—regarded as representations of winter’s powerful spirits—serving as advisors and strategists to Frost Giant warlords and kings.

"That’s a Silver Dragon, not a White Dragon—she won’t submit to you." The Frost Wind Witch reminded him.

"I don’t care." The Frost Giant Warlord was utterly arrogant. "Summon the troops. I want that Silver Dragon captured and a collar put around her neck."

"Harden, bring my mount here."

The Frost Giant Warlord called his subordinates to bring his White Dragon mount. Once mounted, he summoned his White Dragon Knights—only two of them—alongside a dozen smaller White Dragons unfit as mounts, showcasing the city’s resources. Additionally, the Tara Beast Knights numbered in the dozens... they marched in grand formation toward the Silver Dragon’s location.

That Silver Dragon was truly stunning—far more beautiful than his White Dragon mount; the Frost Giant Warlord was practically drooling at the sight.

They drew closer and closer.

As soon as they reached the mountaintop, the Frost Giant Warlord saw the black-haired man in front of the Silver Dragon suddenly transform into a Red Dragon.

Not an ordinary Red Dragon, but a massive Red Dragon, nearing elder age—a colossal force.

Red Dragons aren’t comparable to the weak White Dragons; an elder Red Dragon is undoubtedly a dominant presence.

Then, that Red Dragon suddenly stood upright, towering higher than the warlord’s own castle. In the blink of an eye, it grew two additional heads and four arms, each clutching a gleaming Fine Gold Greatsword... This wasn’t a Red Dragon; it was a nightmare, a monster pulled straight from the depths of horror.

In the face of such a Red Dragon, the Silver Dragon seemed so small, laughable—like a mere puppy.