CHAPTER 436: CHAPTER 262: WINTER FEAST

Seeing David’s firm resolution to first sever this off-field balancing hand from the High Elves, the dragons, who had long suffered from harassment by the Elves and had found no effective solution, naturally had no objections.

There was even a faint anticipation.

After all, who wouldn’t want to wipe out their enemy’s entire family after enduring constant backstabbing, severed supply lines, and scorched-earth tactics on human territory that left them starving and forced to survive on snow and the biting north wind?

It was only because they were the Dragon Race, capable of withstanding hunger and building almost anything, that they hadn’t crumbled. The human Noble armies of Luwalden would have collapsed long ago under such conditions.

It was a pity. Aside from the Black Dragon siblings Alfonse and Viola, whose intelligence was limited, the others... This included Lizrite, the ’Red Dragon Grand Marshal’ whom the dragons had recently come to regard as their linchpin. Even in the eyes of Luwalden’s military strategists, they were all considered little more than ’monsters’—all brawn and no brains.

When it came to anything requiring brainpower, they were utterly lost.

It had always been the Dragon Slayers who devised ways to manipulate them. When it was their turn to plot against those ’weaker’ Humanoid Creatures, they hadn’t the slightest clue.

Such were the drawbacks of hailing from remote regions with deficient educational systems.

The dragons of Skanis were indeed formidable in small-scale battles, especially in wilderness encounters, exemplifying the oppressive power of beings at the pinnacle of strength in the material plane.

But as long as they weren’t adult dragons who had reached the legendary realm, an intelligent civilization, if adequately prepared and forewarned, could specifically target them.

For example, when David and his dragons had just returned from Barto Hell, they faced a concentrated barrage of ballista fire that nearly wiped them out on the spot.

To use a more understandable analogy, dragons that hadn’t reached legendary status were like heavy tanks on a Blue Star battlefield equipped with 88mm flak cannons—their advantage lay in mobility, and their intimidation and firepower were unmatched.

Especially during group charges, their impact was devastatingly effective and seemingly invincible.

Yet, even then, if targeted—especially with tactics exploiting terrain advantages and using relatively inexpensive anti-tank weapons like shoulder-fired armor-piercing rockets for frequent ambushes—even a world-class Merkava could be crippled.

Deep down, David had some ideas, but after hours of high-intensity breeding work, he felt as if his brain had been thoroughly drained of fluid and now just wanted to find a den to collapse in.

"Let things stay as they are here for now. I need to make a trip back to Port of Wallens. We’ll discuss things at length with Nifadora and the others then," he said.

When it came to scheming and cunning, one naturally looked to the Green Dragons.

David said this as he surveyed his surroundings. He was reassured to see that, apart from Mofei’s few unreliable White Dragon brethren who looked half-dead, the others were fine, and continued, "Oh, and tell your dragonkin to stop their suicidal charges. There’s been a slight issue with the Decayed Dragon God, but it’s expected to recover soon. If you don’t want to end up as idiots pickled in the Styx River, tell them to take it easy."

"Understood!" Alfonse replied. Having ’died’ once on the bloody battlefields of Barto Hell, he had developed a greater reverence for death.

Not every death came with the good fortune of being personally resurrected by the Dragon God.

If one were careless enough to be submerged in the waters of the Styx River just once, a part of their memories would be permanently lost. If that happened a few more times... whether they were still ’themselves’ would become a philosophical question.

When David mentioned this so casually, all the dragons and their kin, including Lizrite, felt a chill, and their gazes towards David inevitably filled with deep-seated wariness.

As Chromatic Dragons, they had all vividly sensed that the pillar of faith connected to the Chromatic Dragon Queen had abruptly been disrupted for a moment.

It felt like whatever their leader involved himself in, it somehow always managed to connect to ’Gods’—beings on an utterly different level of existence.

Rumor had it he had even directly confronted an avatar of the Drow’s Spider Goddess, Rose, in the past.

David couldn’t care less what they thought. After temporarily leaving Alfonse and his sister in charge, he took off with Lizrite to Port of Wallens, ready to enjoy time with his dragon children.

However, he noticed Lizrite seemed to be in a rush. David didn’t ask why. Instead, he soared up to her, his claws wrapping around her muscular yet seductively curved waist, his chest pressing against her back.

The scene resembled a refueling aircraft preparing to service a fighter jet.

"What are you doing?" The sudden move startled Lizrite, causing her scales to stand on end.

She thought David, insatiable as ever, was gearing up for some high-altitude, earth-shattering romp...

Her fuel tank had just been topped off not long ago!

But David had no such superfluous actions in mind. Instead, he opened his ’celestial thrusters’ to full throttle, unleashing intense afterburners and whisking his rebellious little red dragoness off at triple speed.

Lizrite, having never experienced such velocity and vigor, was instantly overwhelmed by the sudden acceleration. She felt disoriented. Maybe, just maybe, trying new things in the sky wasn’t such a bad idea after all—no other dragons were watching, anyway.

But before her tail could willingly intertwine with him, the rush of wind pouring into her still-agape mouth kept her from closing it, making her look like a kitten perched on the shoulder of a speeding motorcyclist, unable to shut its mouth.