The Fastest Legend of Ochre Valley

Time flowed on. In the blink of an eye, six months had passed since Xilong's birth.

The autumn sunlight still carried a vicious bite. The little Chrome Dragon slowly crawled out of the shadows, lowered his body beneath the sun, and stretched his spine with all his strength. Like a great cat poised to pounce, he gave himself a shake and let out a comfortable, languid stretch.

Refreshed and invigorated.

A dragon's first year after hatching was the period of fastest growth and development. Their primal instincts drove them to grow strong as quickly as possible, so they could face the countless dangers lurking in the wilderness.

Yet for Xilong, these days felt remarkably leisurely instead.

Though he was nominally the private property of the Ashmark Lineage, his life was in fact exceedingly comfortable—

Under the Nurturer's protection, he faced no danger and never had to worry about food. The entirety of Ochre Valley was a playground for dragon hatchlings. Four meals a day were supplied by the Lineage's retainers at fixed times and in fixed portions.

Under such circumstances, even if Xilong wanted to survive in the wild, he had neither the environment nor the means to do so.

The sort of thing described in mortal fairy tales—where a cruel dragon mother deprived an unfavored hatchling of flesh and blood, forcing it to go outside and eat dirt and gnaw trees—simply did not exist in Ochre Valley.

The Nurturer treated everyone equally.

"Xilong."

Seeing Xilong emerge from the gathering place, the dragon hatchling that had been lying beneath the shade of a tree sprang up. "I've been waiting for you here the whole time. The food in my stomach is almost digested."

Xilong glanced at the hatchling whose scales resembled his own and replied lightly, "The Nurturer told a few extra stories today."

After the daily communal meal, once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill at the gathering place, the Nurturer would begin teaching the dragons' language and writing.

Heavy-Metal Dragons were True Dragons, but there were also many Lesser Dragons in the valley without the Dragon Legacy. They had to learn everything from scratch, so Jiazhuosa set aside time specifically to teach them.

As for the Heavy-Metal Dragons, they could either stay and listen or leave at this time. So long as they did not make noise, run around, or fidget, the Nurturer generally did not restrict the hatchlings' freedom.

Xilong most enjoyed staying by the Nurturer's side to listen in.

That was because Jiazhuosa did not merely teach language and writing. Whenever he happened upon obscure and profound Ancient Dragon Script, he would also describe the legends and stories of that era. Sometimes, when it came to mind, he would talk about the Lineage's history and present circumstances, or introduce the neighboring Tagoma Kingdom and Bloodridge Tribes.

Xilong had only just arrived in this world. Even though he had been born with knowledge, he was still filled with curiosity about everything here and wanted to understand it all. Jiazhuosa's lessons were an important source of information for him.

"Let's go play at Eaglebeak Cliff. What do you say?"

The dragon hatchling poked his head toward the gathering place and looked around a few times. Once he confirmed that the Nurturer was not coming this way, he said, "I haven't gone to play for two days. I'm practically dying of impatience. No matter what, I can't miss it today."

"Have you checked? Are there many dragons on the mountain?" Xilong asked.

"Not many, not many."

The hatchling hurriedly shook his head and invited him with eager eyes. "And if it's you, those guys will definitely be willing to make room."

His name was Mochi Sorax. He shared Xilong's surname, and by blood, they could be considered brothers.

Though dragons had very little concept of blood ties, with that connection between them, Mochi was still more willing to be close to Xilong.

Mochi needed a playmate, and Xilong was not actually stiff or dull by nature. It was simply that every morning and afternoon, he had his own training plan to complete. That was something he could not delay or neglect.

Only when he had free time in the afternoon could he do other things—chasing and playing with companions, hunting bears and eating sheep.

Like now. At Mochi's suggestion, Xilong did not hesitate and immediately agreed. "All right. Let's go play a round first."

"Let's go!"

With Xilong to rely on, Mochi instantly became full of swagger. Swaying his tail as he waddled along, he headed toward Eaglebeak Cliff.

By the time they reached their destination, many dragon hatchlings had already gathered nearby, preparing for another Racing Competition.

Though they were hatchlings, every one of them was as large as a lioness of the plains. Their scales scraped together as they wriggled their bodies, striving to squeeze the annoying brats beside them away. Their claws crushed the gravel, sending it clattering.

Through requests, trade, and even coercion, the Ashmark Lineage had collected countless dragon eggs from every possible source. To make them easier to raise, all were hatched in Ochre Valley with magic, in hopes that they would serve the Lineage once grown.

That was why there were so many young dragons in Ochre Valley. There were not only Iron Dragons and Chrome Dragons, but also Cobalt Dragons, Tungsten Dragons, and Nickel Dragons. There were not only Heavy-Metal Dragons, but also many mixed-blood dragons and descendants of Lesser Dragons.

At the sight of Xilong, the hatchlings hesitated for a moment before ultimately making space for him, giving him the treatment a champion deserved.

Riding the tiger's might, Mochi also successfully claimed a spot. As he prepared with restless excitement, he furtively eyed Xilong ahead of him.

There had recently been some gossip in Ochre Valley. Many young female dragons had been whispering in private that Xilong was good-looking.

After hearing those rumors, Mochi could not help feeling unconvinced. Taking advantage of the preparation time, he scrutinized Xilong from head to toe.

"Let me see what exactly is different about him."

Xilong's scales were a clean steel-gray. They did not glare beneath the sunlight; rather, they possessed an even richer sheen within the shadows beneath the clouds. Scales layered over his face, while horns extended behind his skull.

At the same size, Chrome Dragons were not as bulky as Iron Dragons. Their proportions were more balanced, their torsos sturdy and their limbs powerful.

Fine, thorn-like bony spikes were arranged in neat order beneath his neck and at the ends of his membranous wings.

As a former Evil Dragon, Xilong was cold-toned from head to tail, yet his eyes shone with two points of clear amber warmth. His pupils were pale slits, and whenever his gaze swept about, he naturally carried an air of martial vigor.

"Tch. He's only a tiny bit better-looking than me."

Mochi glanced at his own dull gray scales and thought to himself.

In truth, whether one looked good or not was unimportant. Xilong was somewhat larger than ordinary Chrome Dragons, nimble in movement, and no weaker in strength. Even against the Iron Dragons of the Lineage's core, he could put up a fight. He had even won once, making quite a name for himself among the Fringe Dragons.

Mochi often followed at Xilong's side, clearly wanting to build a good relationship with him.

The Feather Dragon acting as referee flicked its plumes and let out a clear cry. The Racing Competition began at once.

Dense impacts immediately rang out along the mountain path. More than a dozen dragon hatchlings curled themselves into balls and raced downhill at full speed, faster than running. They squeezed, rammed, and blocked one another. Gravel sprayed everywhere, dust rose into the air, and it looked like a miniature landslide.

"Boom, boom!"

Amid dull crashes, two Iron Dragons roared and screeched. Relying on their powerful bodies, they charged recklessly ahead and took the lead.

They spiraled down along the mountain path. Seeing a Tungsten Dragon catching up from behind, the leading Iron Dragon abruptly twisted and slammed into it like a rolling boulder, knocking it directly out of its ball shape. The Tungsten Dragon came loose and fell apart in pain, tumbling miserably across the ground.

Before the Tungsten Dragon could even get up, all the pursuers behind it rushed forward. Blocked by it, they naturally ended up sprawling in every direction.

One dragon hatchling after another crashed together. Some were knocked off the mountain path, while others simply began biting and fighting on the spot. Only the leaders' triumphant roars remained.

Xilong clamped his tail in his jaws, and the fine bony spikes beneath his neck and along his wing tips folded flush one after another, leaving no extra edges.

He deliberately held back his speed and stayed behind the Iron Dragons, following the route where they had crushed the gravel flat. He preserved his stamina until they reached the first sharp, curved bend.

The Iron Dragons ahead turned with all their strength but did not slow down. Unwilling to surrender their lead, they instead scraped and rammed the rock wall, intending to use the reaction force of the collision to slingshot around the corner like marbles.

Though that approach could easily injure them, they were Iron Dragons after all—naturally powerful, thick-skinned and tough-fleshed. They had that confidence.

Xilong's response, however, was entirely different.

His body unfolded as he rolled, instantly releasing his ball shape. His four claws touched down, his membranous wings half-spread, and he stepped on three protruding rock points along the inside of the bend. He leaped cleanly and decisively, tracing a sharp zigzag through the gap between the two Iron Dragons.

It was an absolutely beautiful entry, like a sewing needle slipping expertly through the eye of a thread—precise, elegant, and without a trace.

The Iron Dragons roared in fury and gave chase through brute force, but they had already slowed by far more than a little.

Mochi followed behind, staring so hard his eyes went blank.

He too was a Chrome Dragon known for agility, so he likewise unfolded as he entered the bend, preparing to imitate Xilong's movement. But he misstepped at the second landing point, missed the rock entirely, and face-planted into the ground, falling so hard that the world spun around him.

Seeing that pursuit was hopeless, Mochi could only withdraw dejectedly. He climbed to a high place and went to watch the race.

The wind suddenly grew fierce, and the cliff edge was right ahead.

It was the greatest test of the Racing Competition for the dragon hatchlings. The astonishing distance of the leap was like a heavenly chasm. So long as a hatchling lacked sufficient sprinting speed or had not mastered gliding, it could not possibly reach the cliff on the other side.

Ordinarily, Xilong should have spread his membranous wings now, hovered steadily in the air, and drawn a broad arc to ensure that he landed on the opposite side.

That was how he had always done it before. It was a method that could not go wrong.

But this time, as Xilong rushed to the cliff's edge, another thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

What if he did not spread his wings?

What if he did not glide or seek altitude, but instead copied the Iron Dragons' method of taking turns—relying on the propulsion generated by speed to force his way across?

The moment that thought appeared, even Xilong found it interesting. He was already the champion. If he wanted to become faster, he could only figure out newer ways to race.

He had loved doing this when playing racing games in his previous life. While others obediently took the safe route, he liked to skim along cliffs and seize the most perilous shortcut. Whether he was ahead or behind at the time, he simply wanted to compete with himself. So long as he succeeded, it felt utterly exhilarating.

But reality was not a virtual game. There were too many factors that affected a leap, and there was no room for error. A hair's difference in height meant falling from the cliff; a fraction's deviation in angle meant crashing into the wall.

He would be staking everything on his control over his own body.

The stream beneath the cliff rushed fiercely through tangled rocks. A dragon hatchling would not die from falling, but at the very least, its tendons would snap and its bones would break.

Xilong licked his teeth, found it immensely interesting, and finally grew serious.

He released his ball shape and adjusted his angle. His hind claws kicked fiercely off the cliff edge, his wings swept backward tight against his body, outlining a perfect streamlined shape. Like a flying shuttle hurled with brutal force, he shot straight toward the opposite shore, skimming alongside the cliff.

Mochi, who had returned to watch the race, widened his eyes. Damn it, that height was nowhere near enough. The Chrome Dragon diving straight through the air was clearly about to smash headfirst into the rock wall on the other side.

Yet Xilong did not panic.

In that split-second flash of lightning and flint, he did everything he could to keep his body stable. He felt the wind screaming past beneath his belly, over his membranous wings and scales. Feeling his scales tremble faintly from tension, he could not help letting out a low roar.

"No wonder those Iron Dragons are always roaring and howling. This feeling..."

Xilong tore wildly through the air. "...is incredible."

Was this what it meant to be a dragon? The moment danger and excitement came, his heartbeat thundered like war drums, pumping surging blood through his limbs and bones.

His body precisely answered every thread of his will. His wings snapped in the wind like battle banners, every muscle drawn taut as a bowstring, every scale ringing bright and clear.

Yet as a Chrome Dragon, while Xilong's body reacted like an erupting volcano, his mind was as cold as frozen iron. It seemed as though time itself had slowed during his thoughts, and everything his pupils caught was clear down to the finest detail.

Mochi's judgment had been wrong. At this angle and height, under the most extreme conditions, he could barely make it.

At the final instant before striking the cliff wall, Xilong spread his membranous wings to their fullest and used all his strength to bleed off the excess momentum. His entire body rose upright.

His chest and belly fell below the cliff, but his foreclaws had already caught the edge!

In that hair-trigger moment, he shoved hard, forcibly changed direction, and lunged out along the cliff face.

The pounce was swift and vicious. Xilong could not land calmly. His body smashed onto the mountain path and skidded and scraped along it, his claw marks plowing far across the ground. Only after he lashed his tail violently did he finally steady himself.

His posture was not pretty. It was even a little bedraggled. Yet he was faster than he had ever been before.

The Chrome Dragon crouched atop the mountain, back arched, breathing heavily. He turned to look at the cliff he had just crossed, that absurdly low flight path still lingering in his vision.

So this was what it meant to be a dragon—the most perfect predator in the mortal world. Not that battered body tortured to death, but such a blazing heartbeat, such powerful strength, such vivid...

Life.

Xilong grinned, gathered himself, slid into the final slope, and raced down to the finish line.

After quite a while, the second-place finisher finally arrived. To Xilong's surprise, it was not an Iron Dragon but a black-and-yellow Lesser Dragon. It leaped over the finish line, glanced at Xilong without saying a word, then silently withdrew to one side.

Then came the third, the fourth...

Mochi arrived late. After spending some time searching, he finally found Xilong by the mountain stream and asked eagerly, "Want to go another round?"

Xilong was using the stream water to wash the grit and dust from his body.

He climbed ashore, shook himself, flinging several sprays of water away, then shook his head. "No."

"One round goes by quickly. I still want to ask you about that sharp-bend leap and the straight-line dive just now."

Mochi was full of playfulness. Though he had fallen and been left gray-faced and filthy, he was still eager to go again. "Why aren't you racing anymore?"

"Because there are no opponents."

Without changing expression, Xilong casually said, "I was already halfway down the mountain while you were all still up there. Dragons who have never experienced the feeling of being without equal would not understand."

Mochi's vision went dark. He had only just begun to feel a little admiration for Xilong, only to discover that he was this sort of dragon.

But there was nothing to be done. The truth really was that whenever his brother entered a race, he was the undisputed champion.

Xilong actually liked the Racing Competition too. It was certainly good to show off a little by always coming first, but if he discouraged the other hatchlings too badly, perhaps no dragons would play with him in the future.

After thinking it over, he simply decided to stop racing for a while. He would let the other hatchlings memorize the route a little better, then return later to challenge the legend of Eaglebeak Cliff.

Besides, a competition was, at the end of the day, merely play. Winning a hundred times in a game could not earn him true respect and recognition in a world where the strong devoured the weak.

Xilong fell into thought. After racing the Iron Dragons, his mood gradually grew heavy.