That Day, I Finally Remembered the Terror of Being Crushed by It (Yesterday's chapter number was wrong)

By the Surbrin River, Black Dragon Kangerweian, having suffered two crushing blows in succession, stared at the surging waters flowing south and sank into profound self-denial and doubt.

Worried that the unknown Legend might pursue him, Kangerweian had transformed into the Drow appearance he had worn when entering the Netheril Magic Ship years ago. Only, with his dusky skin and his head wrapped into a cushion-like turban, he looked like some Indian craftsman from Blue Star.

With bloodshot, pleading eyes, he looked at the Drow dragon beside him, who was lost in thought, and asked:

"Naulym, am I, Kangerweian, really worthless?"

The speechless Drow dragon truly wanted to say, "Aside from having a talent that's somewhat worthy of praise, you really are useless in every other respect. You actually couldn't even beat a White Dragon—the disgrace of the Chromatic Dragons."

Yes, by now she was almost certain that those four dragons, whose minds were clearly inclined toward childishness, were definitely not Silver Dragons famed for their high intelligence and spellcasting. They were White Dragons from the north, creatures that hunted almost entirely through breath weapons and brute force.

Originally, she had not been completely certain. But once they started fighting, the silvery coating on those scales, so metallic in texture, fell off like snowflakes. It had been impossible not to recognize it. Perhaps only Kangerweian, too deeply embroiled in the fight, had failed to notice.

Though the scales of some bloodline-degenerated Silver Dragons could also be rather dull in color, everyone knew that Chromatic Dragon scales had more of a leathery texture, while only Metal Dragon scales possessed that metallic feel.

To be honest, upon discovering this truth, Naulym's worldview had been thoroughly overturned.

She had once heard that certain devils and Demons of the Lower Plane enjoyed capturing Clerics,