Translator: AnubisTL
"Perhaps, as long as there is appropriate, deep rest like this time..."
As Alberto repeated the tedious and arduous movements, a thought took shape in his mind: I could actually endure the Oath's constraints.
With this thought, a bold, almost masochistic plan began to form.
Perhaps I could find more opportunities to challenge Garos? Getting knocked unconscious by him would be the perfect way to secure a forced, long-term rest, wouldn't it?
If he tried to sleep on his own volition, the damn Oath would never allow it. That would be equivalent to slacking off!
And actively seeking out other powerful, unfamiliar beings to challenge? The risk was simply too high; a single misstep could lead to dire consequences. Challenging the relatively "familiar" Garos was far more reliable.
Besides...
What if, by some miracle, I won one of those challenges? Wouldn't that not only break the damn Oath's shackles but also prove his worth?
The only problem that gave him a massive headache was that challenging Garos came with a price.
If every challenge cost him a fortune in precious gems or gold coins, he doubted he would ever pay off the mountain of debt he'd accumulate. He feared that all the wealth he earned in the years to come would be sucked into the bottomless pit of repaying Garos.
Just then...
A sudden, violent gust of wind swept past, kicking up clouds of dust that blotted out the warm sunlight and cast a massive, oppressive shadow upon the ground.
The red-iron dragon descended, his body as imposing as a mountain and as strong as forged steel, eclipsing the sun.
His colossal wings, more than twice his body length, slowly folded as he landed with a heavy, steady thud directly in front of the Gold Dragon Alberto, who was still flapping his wings. Garos watched him with keen interest.
Given the immense proportions and weight of dragonkind, flight was nothing short of a miracle.
As top-tier magical creatures, their wing structure was primarily designed for adjusting angle and direction, providing extremely limited lift. An ordinary dragon would struggle to even glide for long relying on its wings alone.
Yet here was Alberto, able to lift himself off the ground for a short distance purely through the physical power of his wingbeats, without relying on the powerful leap of his hind legs.
This was proof enough.
The strength inherent in those golden dragon wings already surpassed that of most gold dragons of his rank. It was clear that Alberto had poured a tremendous amount of effort and sweat into training his wing strength over the past five years.
However.
In the eyes of Garos—a master who had tempered his own body to the absolute limit—Alberto's current training method and form were riddled with flaws and painfully inefficient.
Every point of exertion, every stretch of the wing membranes, every shift in balance—Garos watched it all, his brow furrowing in disapproval.
He couldn't resist the urge to criticize.
"Stop, Alberto."
His gaze swept over the gold dragon's slightly trembling wing muscles. "This training method of yours is too inefficient. You're wasting both stamina and time."
Without waiting for Alberto's response, Garos turned on his heel.
He strode away with heavy steps toward another area of Dragon Valley, leaving behind a single, curt command.
"Follow me."
Under the red-iron dragon's lead, Alberto followed him, his confusion growing, until they arrived at a peculiar training ground.
The ground here was not soil or rock, but a thick layer of cold, hard, special alloy steel plates, several meters deep. Around the perimeter of the field stood several metal pillars, their surfaces inscribed with complex alchemical runes.
Then, under the bewildered gaze of the Gold Dragon Alberto, the red-iron dragon activated the alchemical devices.
A low hum vibrated through the air as a dark, obsidian light spread from the pillars, instantly enveloping the entire steel arena. Alberto felt his body suddenly grow heavy, as if an invisible giant hand were trying to crush him into the ground. Even the air itself seemed to turn thick and viscous.
Then, a scene unfolded that left Alberto dumbfounded and utterly bewildered.
Garos seemed completely unaffected by the superheavy field—or rather, he had long since grown accustomed to such pressure.
Within the Superheavy Field State, he began a series of high-intensity, extreme exercises that forced the Gold Dragon's eyes wide. He wasn't simply flapping his wings; he was wielding them as weapons, executing high-speed, precise cutting and striking motions in the superheavy environment. His body remained suspended in mid-air, twisting and turning with agile grace.
Compared to Garos, Alberto's own meager wing-flapping practice earlier felt like a young dragon playing.
The intensity, difficulty, and danger of their training were on completely different levels, separated by countless tiers of mastery.
No wonder... no wonder...
No wonder I, Alberto, could not surpass him, even after five full years of sleepless, nearly self-torturing training and refinement, he thought silently.
He realized that during those long five years, while he had been driven forward by his oath, Garos had never stopped either.
And judging by Garos's effortless, natural proficiency—as if he were merely breathing—it was clear that this wasn't the result of a sudden whim over the last five years. This was the accumulation of decades of unwavering, day-after-day discipline.
At this moment, Gold Dragon Alberto finally understood the fundamental reason for his failure. Garos did not need an oath to constrain him; he was already disciplined to a degree that was unimaginable for ordinary creatures.
Even if he were a White Dragon, Alberto thought, he would surely shed his identity as the weakest of dragonkind and win the respect and awe of other dragons on his own merits.
However, before the complex emotions surging within the Gold Dragon could continue to ferment, that familiar chill struck him ruthlessly, like a cold whip lashing his soul, sternly urging him forward.
Don't just stand there foolishly lost in thought! Now! Immediately! Begin your own training!
"I know! I know!" Alberto growled impatiently in his mind, suppressing his churning thoughts.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the training ground, which was forged of steel.
Gritting his teeth, he struggled to mimic Garos's precise and efficient training posture from a short distance away.
The Gold Dragon's physical constitution was already exceptionally outstanding, placing him among the elites of the dragon race. Combined with the frantic tempering under the oath's spur over the past five years, it had laid a foundation far superior to that of other Gold Dragons his age.
With such a foundation, he managed to barely hold on.
Though his movements were still incredibly clumsy, sluggish, and slow—completely unable to keep up with Garos's storm-like pace and intensity—at least...
Step by step, he managed to keep pace with that steel-like figure, beginning a more efficient regimen of training and tempering.
As time relentlessly flowed on, the sun gradually sank in the west, finally vanishing beneath the horizon. The deep night sky, like a vast velvet curtain, slowly draped over the entire Frontierlands, enveloping it in silent starlight.
On the training grounds, Gold Dragon Alberto had already exhausted his last ounce of strength. He lay sprawled on the cold, hard metal floor, panting heavily, unable to even lift his tail.
Yet, directly opposite him, that figure cast in steel continued his relentless assault.
With a thunderous roar like rolling thunder across the earth, he tirelessly tempered his already terrifyingly powerful body—an eternal furnace, a machine that never stopped.
Even as his scales shattered, even as dragon blood poured out like sweat, even as his heart beat like a war drum.
Yet he did not stop.
It is truly a blessing to have him as an ally rather than a mortal enemy, the gold dragon thought silently.
As he watched this scene, Alberto himself failed to realize that his once-proud Heart of the Gold Dragon was gradually transforming. With every new thing he learned about Garos, and every moment he witnessed this will that transcended all limits, a new emotion—respect—was quietly taking root in his heart.
In truth, anyone who knew the price Garos had paid to grow stronger, anyone who had witnessed his indomitable will, would find it impossible to look down on him—not just as an ally or friend, but even as a rival or enemy.
At that moment, Garos glanced at the gold dragon, noticed the change in his gaze, and nodded in satisfaction.
Dragon Taming Art: Gold Dragon Chapter Physical might and raw strength cannot earn the respect and admiration of the Head of the Metallic Dragons. However, spirit and will can.
(End of the Chapter)
---------------------------
📖 You are reading [306] Chapters behind.
🔥 Read up to Chapter [634] now, only on 𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝕞.
📚 Read upto [13,000+] Chapters on Site with [10,400+] Free Chapters!
🚫 Also get FREE lifetime ad-free and join the giveaway by joining our Discord!
---------------------------