The Fastest Legend of Ochre Valley

Time passed, and in the blink of an eye, six months had gone by since Ferrum was born.

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

He felt refreshed.

The first year after a Dragon Hatchling broke from its shell 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 many dangers lurking in the wilderness.

Yet for Ferrum, these days felt exceptionally leisurely.

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

Under the Nurturer's protection, he neither had to face danger nor worry about food. All of Ochre Valley was a playground for Dragon Hatchlings, and the lineage's retainers provided four meals a day at fixed times and in fixed portions.

Under such circumstances, even if Ferrum wanted to survive in the wilderness, he did not have the environment or conditions for it.

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

The Nurturer treated everyone equally.

"Ferrum."

Seeing Ferrum emerge from the gathering grounds, the Dragon Hatchling that had been lying beneath the shade of a tree sprang up. "I've been waiting here for ages. The stuff in my stomach is almost digested."

Ferrum glanced at the hatchling with scales similar to his own and said lightly, "The Nurturer told a few extra stories today."

After the daily meal ended and everyone had eaten and drunk their fill at the gathering grounds, 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 Valyria set aside time specifically to teach them.

As for the Heavy-Metal Dragons, they could listen in or leave at this time. So long as they did not make noise or run around recklessly, the Nurturer generally did not restrict the Dragon Hatchlings' freedom.

Ferrum most liked staying by the Nurturer's side to listen.

That was because Valyria did not merely teach language and writing. Whenever she touched upon obscure and profound Ancient Dragon Script, she would also describe the legends and stories of that era. Sometimes, when she thought of something relevant, she would speak of the lineage's history and current situation, introducing the neighboring Tagoma Kingdom and Bloodridge Tribes as well.

Ferrum 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. Valyria's lessons were an important source of information for him.

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

The Dragon Hatchling craned his neck toward the gathering grounds and took a few glances, confirming that the Nurturer was not coming this way. "I haven't gone there in two days. I'm dying to go, and I can't miss it today no matter what."

"Did you check? Are there many dragons on the mountain?" Ferrum asked.

"Not many, not many."

The Dragon Hatchling hurriedly shook his head and invited him eagerly. "And if it's you, those guys will definitely be willing to make room."

His name was Mochi Sorax, and he shared Ferrum's surname. By blood, they could be considered brothers.

Although dragons had a very weak sense of blood relations, with that connection between them, Mochi was still more willing to be close to Ferrum.

Mochi needed a playmate, and Ferrum was not actually rigid or dull by nature. It was simply that every morning, he had his own training plan to complete, something that could not be delayed or neglected.

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

Like now, once Mochi brought it up, Ferrum did not hesitate and immediately agreed. "All right. Let's go play a round first."

"Let's go!"

With Ferrum to rely on, Mochi immediately became full of swagger. Swinging 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 Dragon Hatchlings, every one of them was as large as a lioness of the plains. Their scales scraped against one another as they shoved their bodies forward, trying to squeeze away the annoying brats beside them, their claws crunching over loose stones.

Through requests, trades, and even coercion, the Ashmark Lineage had gathered countless dragon eggs from every possible channel. To make feeding them easier, they used magic to hatch them all in Ochre Valley, hoping they would serve the lineage once they grew up.

That was why Ochre Valley had so many young dragons. 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.

Upon seeing Ferrum, the Dragon Hatchlings hesitated for a moment before ultimately clearing out an open space, giving the champion the treatment he deserved.

Mochi rode on Ferrum's coattails and successfully got himself a spot as well. As he prepared eagerly, he kept sneaking glances at Ferrum ahead of him.

There were currently some rumors circulating through Ochre Valley. Many young female dragons were quietly discussing how handsome Ferrum was.

After hearing those rumors, Mochi naturally felt unconvinced. Taking advantage of the preparation time, he examined Ferrum carefully from head to toe.

"Let's see what's so different about him."

Ferrum's scales were a clean steel gray. They were not dazzling under the sunlight, but instead seemed more lustrous in the shadows beneath the clouds. Scales layered across his face, while horns extended behind his skull.

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

Tiny thorn-like bony spurs were arranged neatly beneath his neck and along the ends of his membrane wings.

As a former Evil Dragon, Ferrum was cold and grim from head to toe, yet his eyes held two warm points of clear amber light. His pupils were pale slits, and the way he looked around gave him an innate air of heroic 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, appearance was not important. Ferrum was somewhat larger than ordinary Chrome Dragons, agile in movement, and no less strong. Even when facing the Iron Dragons at the lineage's core, he could hold his own, and he had even won once. Among the Fringe Dragons, he carried considerable prestige.

Mochi often followed Ferrum around, clearly hoping to build a good relationship with him.

The Feather Dragon serving as referee shook its plumage and let out a clear cry. The Racing Competition began at once.

Dense collisions immediately rang out along the mountain path. More than a dozen Dragon Hatchlings all curled themselves into balls and rolled downhill at full speed, faster than running. They shoved, crashed into, and blocked one another as shattered stones flew and dust billowed up, like a miniature landslide.

"Boom, boom!"

Amid the dull impacts, two Iron Dragons roared and howled, charging wildly forward on the strength of their powerful bodies and taking the lead.

They spiraled down the mountain path. Seeing a Tungsten Dragon catching up from behind, the leading Iron Dragon suddenly twisted and slammed into it like a rolling boulder, knocking it out of its ball shape. It came apart in pain and tumbled miserably across the ground.

The Tungsten Dragon did not even have time to get back up before all the pursuers crashed into it. With it blocking the way, they naturally toppled over in a mess.

One Dragon Hatchling after another crashed together. Some were knocked off the mountain path, while others simply bit and fought where they were. Only the leaders' triumphant roars remained.

Ferrum held his tail in his mouth, and the tiny bony spurs beneath his neck and at his wing tips folded neatly together, leaving no unnecessary edges.

He deliberately held back his speed behind the Iron Dragons, following the route they had cleared through the loose stones and preserving his strength until they reached the first sharp, curved bend.

The Iron Dragons ahead turned with all their strength but did not slow down. Unwilling to give up their lead, they scraped directly against the rock wall, intending to use the recoil from the impact to slingshot around the bend like marbles.

While doing this made injury easy, they were Iron Dragons after all, born strong and thick-skinned enough to have that confidence.

Ferrum's response, however, was entirely different.

As he rolled, his body unfurled and immediately released its ball shape. His four claws touched down, his membrane wings spread halfway open, and he stepped on three protruding rock points along the inside of the bend. With a clean, decisive leap, he traced a sharp zigzag and slipped through the gap between the two Iron Dragons.

It was an absolutely beautiful entry, like a sewing needle expertly threading its way through loose thread—precise, elegant, and leaving no 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 wide.

He was also a Chrome Dragon known for agility, so he released his shape as he entered the bend, preparing to imitate Ferrum's movement. Yet he missed his footing at the second landing point and crashed straight to the ground, leaving him thoroughly dazed.

Seeing that catching up was hopeless, Mochi could only withdraw dejectedly, climb to a higher place, and watch the race.

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

It was the greatest test the Racing Competition posed to the Dragon Hatchlings. The astonishing distance of the leap was like a natural chasm. If they did not have enough sprinting speed or had not mastered the art of gliding, they simply could not reach the cliff on the other side.

Ordinarily, Ferrum should have spread his membrane wings at this point, hovering steadily in the air and carving a broad arc to ensure he landed safely 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 Ferrum 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 height, but instead copied the Iron Dragons' method of taking turns and relied on the propulsion generated by speed to force his way across?

The moment the idea appeared, Ferrum himself found it interesting. He was already the champion. If he wanted to go faster, he could only figure out new ways to race.

In his previous life, he had loved doing this in racing games. While everyone else obediently took the safe route, he liked to hug the cliffs and seize the most dangerous shortcuts. Whether he was ahead or behind at the time, he simply wanted to compete with himself. As long as he succeeded, he felt utterly exhilarated.

But reality was not a virtual game. Too many factors affected the leap, and there was no room for error. A slight difference in height would send him falling off the cliff, while the slightest deviation in angle would make him crash into the wall.

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

At the bottom of the cliff, the stream rushed violently through a field of jagged rocks. Falling would not kill a Dragon Hatchling, but it would at least leave him with broken tendons and shattered bones.

Ferrum licked his teeth, found the idea deeply 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 back tight against his body, outlining a perfect streamlined form. Like a shuttle thrown with savage force, he shot straight toward the opposite shore, skimming along the cliff face.

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

Ferrum, however, did not panic.

In that instant as brief as lightning, he did everything he could to keep his body stable. He felt the wind screaming beneath his belly, across his membrane wings and skin. Feeling his scales tremble faintly with tension, he could not help letting out a low roar.

"No wonder those Iron Dragons always howl and roar at the slightest provocation. This feeling..."

Ferrum streaked wildly through the air. "...is incredible."

So this was what it meant to be a dragon? Once he encountered danger and excitement, his heartbeat thundered like war drums, forcing surging blood through his limbs and bones.

His body responded precisely to every shred of his intent. His wings snapped in the wind like battle flags, every muscle drawn taut as a bowstring, every scale ringing with a metallic clatter.

Yet while Ferrum's body reacted like an erupting volcano, his mind as a Chrome Dragon was as cold as frozen iron. Time itself seemed to slow as he thought, and everything caught in his pupils appeared in perfect detail.

Mochi's judgment was wrong. At this angle and height, he could barely make it at the limit.

At the final instant before he struck the cliff wall, Ferrum spread his membrane wings completely and used all his strength to dissipate the excess momentum. His entire body rose upright.

His chest and belly struck beneath the cliff, but his foreclaws had already caught the edge!

In that critical moment, he pushed hard and forcibly changed direction, lunging forward while skimming along the cliff face.

The leap was swift and fierce. Ferrum could not land calmly; his body slammed onto the mountain path and skidded forward, claw marks gouging a long trail through the ground. Only after he whipped his tail viciously did he finally steady himself.

His posture was not pretty. It was even somewhat embarrassing, yet he was faster than he had ever been before.

The Chrome Dragon crouched atop the mountain, his spine arched as he breathed heavily. He looked back at the cliff he had just crossed, that absurdly low flight path still lingering in his eyes.

This was what dragons were—the most perfect predators in the mortal world. Not that mutilated body tortured to death, but this burning heartbeat, this powerful strength, this vivid...

Life.

Ferrum bared his teeth in a grin, tucked himself into shape, slid into the final slope, and raced straight down to the finish line.

After quite some time, the second-place racer finally arrived. It was not an Iron Dragon, but a black-and-yellow Lesser Dragon. It leaped over the finish line, glanced at Ferrum without saying a word, and silently moved aside.

Then came the third, the fourth...

Mochi arrived late. After searching for a while, he found Ferrum by the mountain stream and asked excitedly, "Another round?"

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

He climbed ashore, shook himself, flung several splashes of water aside, and shook his head. "No."

"One round goes by quickly. I still want to ask you about those techniques you used—the sharp-turn leap and that straight-line dive."

Mochi was playful by nature. Though he had fallen so badly he was covered in dust, he was still eager for another try. "Why aren't you racing anymore?"

"Because there are no opponents."

Ferrum replied without changing expression, "I was already halfway down the mountain while you were all still up there. You dragons who have never experienced the feeling of being unbeatable would not understand."

Mochi's vision went dark. He had only just begun to feel some admiration for Ferrum, only to discover that he was this kind of dragon.

But there was nothing to be done. The truth was indeed that whenever his brother joined the race, he became the undisputed champion.

Ferrum actually liked the Racing Competition as well. Showing off was certainly nice, but if he discouraged the other Dragon Hatchlings too much, perhaps no dragon would play with him in the future.

After thinking about it, he decided to stop racing for a while and let the other Dragon Hatchlings memorize the route a little more. Then he could come back and challenge the legend of Eaglebeak Cliff.

Besides, a competition was, in the end, merely a form of play. Winning a hundred times in a game would not earn him true respect or recognition in a world where the strong devoured the weak.

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