Centaurs

At dusk, the sky was awash in a gradient from deep blue to orange-red. The low-hanging sun slowly sank behind the distant hills, its fading light like molten amber, coating the withered grass in warm gold.

A wild skink quietly poked its head out of a crevice. Its gray-brown body was its natural camouflage, and its black eyes darted about as it carefully searched for something to fill its belly.

Sunset was a time when many insects were active. A grasshopper on a blade of grass soon caught the skink's attention, and it sprang forward, catching the insect neatly in its jaws.

Just as the skink was about to enjoy its meal, a faint tremor suddenly ran through the whole rocky hill. Pebbles danced, and a giant iron hoof descended from above, crushing it into a pulp in an instant.

Following the iron-black hoof upward revealed the powerful body of a horse. But where a horse's head should have been, a muscular male torso rose from its neck instead.

His arms were heavily muscled, a longbow rested on his shoulder, and a scimitar and javelin hung on either side of his equine lower body. He was unmistakably a centaur ranger.

Not long after the centaur appeared, a vast cloud of dust billowed up along the path he had taken, like a surging yellow dragon.

More centaurs began to appear atop the hill. Even a rough count put their number at several dozen.

Their upper bodies were all those of muscular, nearly naked men, while their lower bodies were equine, ranging from reddish brown and black-gray to yellow-brown... some were even striped or spotted.

Iron was scarce in the wilderness, or rather, the centaurs lacked craftsmen with sufficient forging skills. As a result, they wore no armor, apart from some simple protection for their hooves and chests.

Even so, when these terrifying creatures charged, their impact was no weaker than that of an organized heavy cavalry formation.

An exceptionally tall centaur stepped out of the ranks and asked the one who had arrived first.

"Still no sign of that red dragon?"

His hair was pure white with silver tips, a color extremely rare among horses, making him look as though he were draped in brilliant moonlight.

Unlike ordinary centaurs, whose upper bodies were nearly naked or simply wrapped in animal hides, he wore a white linen robe, with silver armor faintly visible beneath it.

A blanket embroidered with intricate patterns covered his white back, and golden bands encircled the lower legs above all four hooves.

The centaur he had questioned shook his head, placed his right hand over his chest, and knelt on one knee in salute. His eyes were apologetic as he replied.

"Sorry, Lunaris! It flew too fast. I couldn't catch up.

"But I found this. It should be somewhere nearby. If we search carefully..."

With that, the centaur opened his left hand, which had been clenched into a fist. A damaged red scale lay in his broad palm.

Nearly a week had passed since Chilier returned from her last outing injured.

Red dragons were known for their brutality and cruelty, and the impression they left on the world was that of mindless brutes. Their behavior did indeed seem to bear that out.

But this was only because the greed and arrogance in their bones often overwhelmed their reason, leading them to act senselessly.

However, when faced with a genuine threat to their lives, even the most arrogant red dragons would become cautious again.

So while Chilier was recovering, she had gone out as little as possible. Even when she went hunting, she did so at night, under cover of darkness.

Her purpose was to avoid attracting the attention of other dangerous hunters while she was injured.

Only today had her injuries fully healed. Once night fell, she immediately rushed out of the cave, unable to wait any longer. Her broad wings stirred the night wind and magical elements, and she soon vanished into the distance.

Sol, who had watched everything from his hiding place in the corner, had no idea whether this mother he had acquired was going for revenge or something else. He only hoped she wouldn't bring trouble down on him.

When the red hatchling stepped into the moonlight, it was clear that he had grown a whole size larger than a week ago.

His length from nose to tail had increased from seven feet to eight and a half. The bumps on his brow ridges had risen a little higher, and a small ridge had appeared on the scales running down his spine.

The abundant energy provided by the dragon crystal had set his body developing at a rapid pace. Compared with Xisitana and Kalpu, neither of whom had yet reached seven feet, the difference was already immense.

Even the pair of short wings on his back now looked much more proportionate.

That was thanks to his constant wing-flapping whenever he had time over the past week.

When a part of the body frequently consumed energy, the body would naturally supply it with more, allowing it to grow faster and become more developed.

This crude method had considerably improved Sol's gliding ability, but he still couldn't fly freely.

That might have been because he didn't have enough magic power yet. After all, red dragons didn't awaken their first true magic until the juvenile stage.

He would probably have to reach the juvenile stage before he could fly long distances, too.

"I wonder what my first creature template will be. There don't seem to be any particularly powerful species among the creatures in the environment."

Sol glanced at the enormous wheel in his mind. His mental essence balance had reached 9.14; he could probably gather ten points tonight and make a draw.

Then he leaped from the platform at the cave entrance. The cool night wind rushed against his face, making the membranes of his wings flap noisily as he began searching for today's prey.

His improved gliding ability let him search farther afield, while his pale golden eyes, like those of an owl that could see in the dark, were completely unaffected by the night.

Sol only dared glide freely near the muddy, rocky hills where the dragon mother's cave lay. Anywhere else, even under cover of darkness, certain ferocious birds of prey that slept by day and hunted by night might take his little life.

After about ten minutes of gliding, he would land and rest for a while before flapping his wings and taking off again.

Some time later, a pair of twitching ears in the thick grass beneath a bush caught Sol's attention.

He lowered his altitude and rode the night wind silently toward them.

Once he had drawn close enough, he tucked in his outstretched wings slightly and plummeted toward the ground.

The whistling wind alerted the wary prey below. A young deer sprang up, intent on fleeing.

But a pair of outspread claws, driven by the force of the dive, had already landed squarely on its back. Its spine snapped under the impact, its internal organs were pierced by broken ribs, and blood gushed from its mouth and nose. In an instant, it stopped moving.

"My luck's good today. I caught a big one, so I can have another full meal."

To keep the smell of blood from attracting other animals, Sol eagerly began eating in great mouthfuls. He swallowed the chunks of meat he tore off without even chewing.

A hatchling could eat nearly its own weight in a single meal. By the time Sol's belly began to swell, little was left of the prey on the ground.

He left one hind leg uneaten and carried it back to the cave in his claws.

The faint smell of blood soon caught Xisitana and Kalpu's attention. They looked over with red eyes, just in time to see Sol leisurely licking the shreds of meat off the leg.

Seemingly noticing their gazes, the red hatchling, a whole size larger than they were, turned his head disdainfully and spoke with pride.

"You two stupid fools, did you fail to catch anything again today?

"Why don't you get on your knees and beg me? I might take pity on you and give you a couple of bones."