Submission, Part One

"Woohoo! Charge! Charge! Charge!"

"Burn all those filthy pigs to ashes!"

The immense heat released as the Coal was digested made the blood in all three wyrmlings boil. Xisitana and Kalpu could hardly contain themselves, shouting with excitement.

Like three blazing red clouds, they hurtled straight toward the bonfire surrounded by the Boarfolk. The powerful impact of their landing sent unburned logs scattering in every direction like fireworks.

Sparks landed on several Boarfolk who couldn't dodge in time. Their thick bristles caught fire instantly, and they screamed in terror.

Many more Boarfolk leaped to their feet, scrambling out of the way.

But the Boarfolk Berserkers Sol had singled out grabbed the weapons beside them. Their tiny eyes glittered with ferocity as they roared at the scattered bonfire.

Sol shook the embers off his body, raised his thick, long neck, and surveyed the Boarfolk around him.

A wyrmling's head was round, and the horns and spines on his head had yet to take shape. By all rights, he should have looked rather cute.

But the Coal he had swallowed had begun releasing immense heat, warping the air around him. Scorching breath poured constantly from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth.

As he raised his head and roared, some of the undigested Coal dust came spewing out as well. The instant it touched the air, it burst into rolling tongues of flame.

"Filthy, stupid pigs! Why haven't you knelt before a mighty true dragon?!"

"Kneel!"

"Kneel, now!"

Xisitana and Kalpu roared from the side, as if cheering him on.

The ordinary Boarfolk seemed cowed by their ferocious presence and backed away involuntarily.

But the Boarfolk Berserkers, each nearly seven feet tall, flew into a rage at the insult. Blood rushed to their heads, their eyes filled with blood, and their skin gradually reddened.

They raised their thick bone clubs and wooden cudgels. Instead of retreating, they pressed forward.

"Three dragon brats that aren't even grown have no right to order Luge around."

"I'll catch you and throw you in a pot to boil!"

Sol shot a quick glance at the Boarfolk Berserker at the front, then suddenly drew a deep breath and spat it out.

The heat accumulated in his body, the undigested Coal dust, and the mana gathered from his Draconis Fundamentum all burst forth as flame.

The breath began as a thin stream, but grew as it met the air, expanding into a vast blaze three or four meters across in the blink of an eye.

A wave of flame swept over the Boarfolk Berserkers. The one in front had no time to dodge before the fire swallowed him whole.

His bristles burned to charcoal in less than a breath. His thick hide sizzled, and melting fat seeped from bursting blood blisters.

As Sol swung his head, the breath, more than ten meters long, traced a long wall of fire across the ground.

The other Boarfolk Berserkers who had been following behind, ready to charge, hurriedly stopped. But two couldn't halt in time and plunged headlong into the fire, screaming miserably as they fell and rolled wildly on the ground.

Even if going berserk greatly dulled their sense of pain, the agony of having their entire bodies burned by fierce flames was more than any ordinary creature could bear.

Besides, their thick hair and abundant fat made them like natural candles. Once lit, they were difficult to extinguish.

When a weakness swept over him, as though his body had been drained, Sol immediately stopped breathing fire.

Looking at the scene he had created, he felt the evil dragon blood in his body begin to boil. The corners of his mouth involuntarily curled into a pleased smile.

To the other Boarfolk, he looked indescribably savage and terrifying.

Some Boarfolk cried out in fear and turned to flee; even some warriors who had already taken up weapons hesitated, afraid to advance.

Just then, an inconspicuous-looking Boarfolk suddenly shouted:

"Cover yourselves in mud! Cover yourselves in mud and you won't have to fear the dragon brats' fire!"

There was someone among the Boarfolk who could react that quickly?

Sol's gaze sharpened, and he turned to look at the Boarfolk who had spoken.

The next moment, his four limbs pushed hard against the ground, and the broad wings on his back spread as he suddenly took to the air.

He crossed the dozens of meters in an instant. Once above the Boarfolk who had spoken, he swept his outstretched wings back and pounced down viciously with the force of his fall.

His forelimbs, covered in scarlet scales, struck the raised wooden cudgel. With a sharp crack, they continued downward and landed on the Boarfolk's shoulders.

Before the Boarfolk could react, Sol pushed down with his hind legs, thrust out his flexible neck, and sank his teeth into his throat.

With a tearing sound, sharp dragon claws ripped open the tough hide across the Boarfolk's chest and belly, disemboweling him. Hard dragon teeth pierced muscle, sank deep into his spine, and twisted forcefully.

In the space of only a few breaths, the Boarfolk who had spoken had died in the dragon's jaws.

Sol slowly raised his head from the corpse, his savage, vertical pupils sweeping over the surroundings. He raised his head and roared:

"All of you, kneel! Prepare to welcome your new master! Anyone who dares resist will be reduced to ashes in the flames!!"

"Roar! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

"Kill them all!!"

Watching from the side, Xisitana and Kalpu felt the blood boiling throughout their bodies. They couldn't help wanting to take Sol's place.

At Sol's command, the two wyrmlings pounced in all directions like wild dogs off their leashes, attacking the surrounding Boarfolk indiscriminately.

The exceptionally large Boarfolk Berserkers received special "attention": the moment one came close, a blast of dragon breath came spewing out.

Empowered by the Coal, their dragon breath reached temperatures of over a thousand degrees. A thin layer of mud couldn't stop it, and every Boarfolk engulfed in the flames fell in agony.

The wyrmlings' bodies were still not fully developed, however. Even with outside help, they could only breathe that single blast of scorching dragon breath.

But even that single blast was enough.

Once the strongest Boarfolk Berserkers fell and flames soared into the sky, the remaining Boarfolk were all cowed by that terrifying power. They could only flee in panic, no longer daring to resist.

Grok cowered in the mud, trembling all over as he watched the three red dragons slaughter at will.

In his youth, he too had been a powerful warrior, daring enough to fight ferocious dire wolves.

But after age had weakened him, all his vigor and spirit had long since faded along with his once-strong muscles. All that remained was an intense desire to survive.

Suddenly, he recalled the words the largest red dragon had repeated-kneel and pledge loyalty to him-and immediately reacted.

"Mighty red dragon, please stay your anger for now. Lowly Grok offers you all his loyalty here, in exchange for your mercy."