Ambition

What was the difference between one evil dragon and another?

Take the most infamous evil dragon in history, Kungudius. He was a red dragon, the master of the Hell Islands, and the most vicious ruler in the Sea of Stars and the South Sea. He burned, slaughtered, plundered, and committed every evil under the sun.

By rights, an evil dragon who went that far should have faced endless challenges from adventurers, as well as punitive campaigns by human empires and the armies of every goodly race, spending every day on tenterhooks, treading on thin ice.

But what was the reality?

Kungudius lived exceedingly well. He built the famed seaborne kingdom in the Hell Islands, beloved by the many races under his rule. His influence was immense for a time, even drawing many red dragons to pledge themselves to him, to Tiamat, Queen of the Chromatic Dragons' considerable displeasure.

Kungudius assembled an army and controlled the Sea of Stars and the South Sea. He plundered at sea, then sold the stolen goods in regions controlled by the Empire of the Eternal Sun, with whom he was on good terms, purchasing precious resources while receiving intelligence support from his allies. The people of the Empire of the Eternal Sun called him the "Lord of Hell."

His conduct ran completely contrary to people's image of a red dragon wandering wherever it pleased, robbing anyone it saw, stuffing itself fat and drinking itself drunk every day as it waited for an adventurer to cleave it in two with a single stroke.

Caesar guessed that the moment a human or other race's transport ship left the docks, the lord of the Hell Islands would receive intelligence on it. Its route, docking points along the way, docking times, and every other detail would be delivered one by one by his spies.

Back then, all that fellow needed to do was remain in his lair and arrange for however many troops to lie in ambush at designated locations, then sit back and reap the rewards.

That was what an evil dragon ought to be like!

Do not ask Caesar why he knew so much about a red dragon. Kungudius's exploits had actually been inscribed into the chromatic dragons' fundamental inherited knowledge, practically becoming a model for evil dragons.

Still, Kungudius was a freak even among all chromatic dragons, one of a kind through countless centuries. If every other evil dragon could accomplish what he had, the invincible chromatic dragons would have unified Eladia long ago.

But now Caesar had arrived.

He knew that Kungudius's success did not rest solely on his own strength. In Eladia, even if you were a legendary ancient dragon, you would still croak if a legion cornered you. Individual might was indeed an important part of strength, but relying purely on personal power made it difficult to rise to prominence on this continent.

Of course, that would be another matter if Caesar completed the "Neutron Star-Form Life Reshaping" achievement—it was power capable of sinking Eladia beneath the waves.

Kungudius's success lay in the fact that, beyond his formidable strength, he possessed a shrewd mind, subordinates who could fight and kill, reliable allies, and influence and connections in every respect.

Those things gave him deep coffers and countless claws and fangs. Even if he suffered a minor setback for a time, he would have a chance to rise again; even if his lair were destroyed, he would have somewhere to lick his wounds.

If all of Eladia were compared to a hunting ground, then ordinary evil dragons could only be considered predators. Only evil dragons on Kungudius's level were truly qualified to join the ranks of hunters.

Animals, no matter how strong their bodies or sharp their fangs, would still be shot dead by hunters, one bullet at a time.

A modern man from a twenty-first-century urban society had come to a world whose living conditions were inferior by far, burdened with the reputation of an evil dragon, yet without even the qualifications to pick up a gun. Caesar had no intention of taking that kind of deal.

His power came from the trophies displayed in the cabinet inside his mind. As long as he achieved accomplishments recognized by Black Dream, he could receive rewards—and that concept was actually quite broad. All he had to do was reach the very summit in any field.

Caesar had been in Eladia for nine years. He had hidden and held himself back long enough. It was time to stretch his limbs. He would gather power, temper his claws and fangs, and hasten the process of earning rewards.

The black dragon lay atop the mountain, staring down at the orc tribe below. His fangs glinted beneath the blazing sun. Whether it was the sunlight's reflection or ambition taking root, none could say.

Caesar's thoughts were interrupted by the orcs' shouts. When his pupils focused again, he found the Stone Crow Clan's orcs gathered together in a circle on the open ground, as though they were conducting some ritual.

Under the blazing sun, the warriors beat heavy hand drums while the women danced and gestured, raising a chaotic clamor. They were singing in an orcish tongue Caesar could not understand.

Caesar felt that something was wrong. Beating his wings, he descended the mountain and moved closer to the orcs.

"This is an ancient war song left behind from when the orcs were scattered. They usually only do this when they are trapped in desperate straits or parting in life and death."

Luna hid among the thorns as she explained. The little thing had clearly sensed the tragic, solemn atmosphere and instinctively shrank farther inside.

Caesar's arrival drew the orcs' attention, but they had no time to concern themselves with the black dragon now. They were steeped in grief, and the warriors exercised tremendous restraint, forcing their low growls deep down in their throats.

His gaze followed the orcs toward the center of the clearing, where he saw a robust orc lying there. The fallen orc had his eyes squeezed shut, his head drenched in sweat and his face twisted in pain.

Caesar narrowed his eyes slightly.

He actually knew this orc. His name was Orkash, one of the members who had captured Baismai Horned Bulls for him. Orkash was also responsible for transporting food, bringing the horned bulls up to the mountaintop. He was one of the few Stone Crow Clan orcs whom Caesar recognized on sight.

"What happened?"

Caesar walked toward Sifu. The old chieftain was here as well, standing to one side, his expression as cold as the frozen earth of the south. It seemed this shaman, like the others, was helpless, carrying profound grief.

The old chieftain opened his mouth, his voice hoarse enough to make one's heart tremble. "A Balor's curse. There are no priests in our clan who can 'dispel' it. Orkash can only endure it himself."

"Today, the horned bull herd went mad for some reason and blocked us in the Duru Basin for half a day. In the end, we had no choice but to cross the foothills and take a detour back."

An orc likewise responsible for hunting Baismai Horned Bulls took up the story. "On the way back, Orkash collapsed."

Duru Basin.

Caesar thought about it. He remembered that place. He had passed through it while migrating with the two young dragons. Other than its narrow entrance, there had seemed to be nothing special about it.

Yet because of the terrain, the Duru Basin was exceptionally hot. Even now, he vividly remembered the two young dragons' incessant roars.

"What is a Balor's curse?" Caesar took a few steps back and quietly asked the Forest Fairy on his body.

"Um... it's a Balor's curse, I suppose. I don't really know either."

Luna poked her head out and muttered softly, "This curse seems to appear only during the dry season in the northern lands. Its level is actually very low. If there's a priest around, a casual wave of the hand can solve it."

At that moment, Gar, the leader of the hunting party and the Stone Crow Clan's only great warrior, passed by. Little Luna immediately fell silent, drew herself back in, and said no more.

Caesar gathered the great orc closer with a claw. "If it's only a low-level curse, why not try finding a witch doctor from another race? Gar."

"Witch doctor? What witch doctor?" Gar froze for a moment.

"Uh—"

Caesar had not expected that Eladia did not even have an occupation like witch doctor. He choked for a moment before adding, "A doctor? An alchemist? A shaman?"

"I don't understand what you are talking about, Lord Ortolenso."

Gar's expression turned very unpleasant. He left at once and stopped speaking to the black dragon.

He believed Caesar was humiliating the Stone Crow Clan. Even at a time like this, he was still joking. Were orc lives so worthless in the eyes of dragons?

"You really are strange. I recognize every word you say, but once they are put together, I have no idea what they mean."

Only after Gar walked to the other side did Luna speak again. "Let's go back. There's no use staying here. Only priests can dispel a Balor's curse."

"Does Eladia have no other medical professions besides priests?"

The skin over the black dragon's brow ridges creased. "Then how can you be sure this is a curse? Did you sense any magical fluctuations?"