Fleeing

The middle-aged centaur led the group up a distant slope and pointed to the flattened grass at the top.

"Look here, here, and over there. There are clear signs of something having crushed the grass. And look at these long, wavy tracks. What do they remind you of?"

A snow-speckled centaur pawed the ground with a forehoof. After thinking for a moment, he spoke with some uncertainty.

"They look a bit like a snake's tracks. Judging by how wide they are, it must have been a big one."

"Snakes don't have claws."

The middle-aged centaur shook his head and bent his powerful forelegs slightly, leaning his entire upper body forward.

He pushed aside the flattened grass with his spear, revealing several clear, evenly spaced grooves in the dry earth beneath, as though some animal had scratched them there.

"At the very least, it was some kind of big lizard, or perhaps..."

The captured red wyrmling suddenly flashed through Lunaris's mind. Disbelief appeared on his face, and he cried out.

"It was those red dragon whelps! What were they doing near the camp?"

The middle-aged centaur shook his head. That was what he wanted to know as well.

"I don't know! Perhaps they were waiting for a chance to take revenge, or perhaps they just happened to pass by. Either way, we should make preparations now."

He whistled, and a piercing falcon cry immediately rang out overhead.

The agile peregrine falcon circled once, chose a direction, and quickly vanished into the distant sky.

"I'll have my animal companion try to find them, but that alone won't be enough. We need to mobilize more members."

Lunaris nodded to show he understood. At his command, more centaurs spread out in all directions like a tide.

Judging by the tracks on the ground, the wyrmlings were only about the same size as that dragon beast. Ordinary centaur warriors should be enough to deal with them.

If they could capture true dragons like these, with their complete draconic inheritance, they could sell them for an astronomical price to either the dark elves or the tower wizards.

Sol's eyes snapped open in his sleep. His transparent eyelids kept the falling dirt out, and his nostrils filled with the earthy smell of damp soil.

A sudden, inexplicable sense of unease welled up inside him, dispelling all traces of sleep.

He used the small protrusion on his snout to push aside the loose soil covering him and carefully poked his head out of the ground. Before him was the same sunlit wilderness, with a few spherical tumbleweeds rolling from east to west in the wind. Everything looked peaceful.

Was I imagining things?

Sol shook the dust from his head. Either way, he had no intention of going back to sleep.

He sprang out of the ground and swung his tail, giving the still-sleeping Xisitana and Kalpu a smack each.

"You two lazy pigs, get up! It's time to keep moving."

The sudden, searing pain drew a scream from each wyrmling. They leaped out of the ground and glared at Sol.

"Didn't we agree to travel at night? The sun's blazing right now. What's gotten into you?"

"Damn it! I ran all night yesterday. I need rest now. Rest, understand?"

Sol couldn't be bothered wasting words on his stupid younger siblings. He merely bared his teeth silently, clenched one claw into a fist, and shook it emphatically.

Xisitana and Kalpu immediately wilted, forced to obey in humiliation.

After glancing at the notification at the bottom of his vision showing an increase in Mental Power Essence Fragments, Sol led the two wyrmlings onward, all three trotting on all fours in the direction they had chosen the night before.

Red stood out far too much in the sunlight. There was no more vivid color in nature.

As a result, Sol and the others had to take care to conceal themselves as they traveled, finding somewhere to hide immediately at the slightest sign of trouble.

Scree-!

A piercing cry came from the sky. He looked up and saw an unfamiliar bird circling high overhead, probably searching for prey like rabbits or field mice.

It was a common sight in the wilderness, so Sol paid it no mind.

They ran another dozen kilometers or so before the sky finally grew a little darker, and the wyrmlings planned to stop and hunt for the day.

Although Dragonvein Crystals could provide ample energy and, to some extent, meet a true dragon's survival needs,

they were still wyrmlings, after all. Their bodies were growing rapidly and needed large amounts of organic and inorganic matter to form flesh and bones, which Dragonvein Crystals could not provide.

Sol and the others were lucky that day. It didn't take them long to find a wilderness boar.

It was a creature that resembled a warthog, slightly smaller than the boars that lived in forests, but with a thicker coat and sharper tusks. It was extremely dangerous to ordinary people.

But to wyrmlings, especially red dragon wyrmlings known for their physical strength, it was hardly difficult prey.

Xisitana and Kalpu circled around from either side while Sol charged straight at it. He knocked the boar to the ground in a single clash.

A feast naturally followed, and the faint scent of blood soon spread through the air.

Sol claimed the choicest portion and ate his fill. At one point, while he was enjoying his meal, he suddenly raised his head and looked sharply behind him.

That sense of unease rose from the bottom of his heart again, stronger than ever before.

A cloud of dust appeared on the distant horizon, and his keen hearing gradually picked up the rumble of hooves.

Something was coming, and from the looks of it, there were quite a few.

The discovery made Sol start. He swung a claw at the heads of Xisitana and Kalpu, who were still eating, and roared.

"Damn it! Stop eating! Run!"

Without waiting for the two wyrmlings to react, he scrambled forward on all fours, darting away low to the ground.

Ordinary horses could run almost that fast, let alone centaurs, magical creatures who would only be faster.

If they took to the air, with no grass to conceal them, they would be exposed immediately.

If there were high-level professionals among those centaurs, they would probably catch up in an instant.

"Damn it! Why is this place nothing but flat wilderness? If we were in the mountains or a forest, we'd have escaped already."

The frantic run made Sol feel his heart pounding, each contraction pumping out nearly a liter of blood.

After flowing through the Draconis Fundamentum, the blood combined with the magic elements he inhaled, carrying away the harmful substances in his muscles that caused fatigue while providing a constant supply of strength.

But centaurs were also a race exceptionally skilled at running. The hoofbeats behind Sol not only failed to grow quieter, they seemed to be getting louder.

He immediately realized that shaking off their pursuers through speed alone was probably impossible. He had to find another way.