The sudden turn of events left Green puzzled.
Was that White Dragon really dead?
If not, why fake his death? If he was, what had killed him—and who?
With those questions in mind, Green decided to visit the Frozen Wasteland in the North himself.
Despite its name, when Green first arrived, he saw no endless frozen expanse. Instead, lush conifers stretched before him, many of them centuries old and over a hundred meters tall.
There was no snow on the ground, either. A thick layer of fallen leaves felt soft underfoot, making him wonder why anyone called this place the Frozen Wasteland.
Green gave it little thought. Riding Bajin the Bone Dragon, he flew straight toward Angdalagon's Dragon's Lair.
It was his first visit, so he had no Spatial Coordinates, which made things somewhat troublesome.
On a mountain peak that was not particularly high, Green spotted a sizable Dragon's Lair.
As a Calamity Rank Great Dragon, Angdalagon was no weakling. He had no need to build his Dragon's Lair in secret, and the surrounding region was his territory.
Yet the area was desolate. Even in the forest, animals were almost impossible to find, let alone supernatural creatures or human settlements.
Green gradually understood why the place was called a wasteland. It truly was barren; the lush greenery visible from afar was only an illusion.
Apart from trees, few living things seemed to inhabit the wasteland.
Before long, Bajin reached the vicinity of the Dragon's Lair, but he did not land.
Green had met that White Dragon before and recognized Angdalagon's Psychic Energy signature.
There was a powerful Psychic Energy signature inside the Dragon's Lair now, but it did not belong to the Elder White Dragon.
Standing atop the Bone Dragon's head, Green looked down.
A Cyclops nearly six meters tall,