Chapter 11 - Emerald Dreamland
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I, The Dragon Overlord Chapter 11 - Emerald Dreamland

As a mage, especially one who had reached the level of arch-mage, Marches certainly possessed knowledge on the various ranks of dragons.

This was a race favored by the gods and born to look down on everything else.

In comparison to dragons, most species were short-lived. Dragon lifespans ran into the thousands of years, and they did not need gruelling training to improve their powers. Simply ageing would be enough, and by adulthood, their strengths would likely be scraping at the legendary rank. Furthermore their titanic frames and lethal anatomy meant that even true-blue legendary rank powerhouses would hesitate to take one on. They would have to pay a hefty price even if they fought and won.

Like the elves the dragon population was low and so each dragon in the race was treated with great importance. If anyone really dared to kill a dragon, they would very shortly be torn to shreds by hordes of their victim’s brethren. So-called “dragon-slayers” were largely fictional characters in San Soliel; personalities who could only exist in the tales and songs of bards and minstrels. Unless the dragon had gone overboard with its actions, no legendary rank powerhouse would dare fight a dragon

But dragons possessed a fatal weakness as well: their fecundity. No one had ever actually counted, but the members of the dragon race on the main continent could not have exceed a few thousand in number. Save for their lengthy lifespans and overwhelming strength, they would be bound for extinction.

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Dragons were also lazy. Asides from eating, they didn’t bother with training themselves, and indeed few even knew how to do so. Only the few dragon geniuses would possess that kind of knowledge. 

If it were only a mature dragon, or even one of the elderly ones, Marches would not have nearly pissed his pants. Abir, after all, was still one of the strongest legendary rank warriors that the Theocracy could send out. And even if he couldn’t slay it, he could stand against it for a time at least.

“This isn’t any ordinary dragon, but a primordial one! One that should have gone extinct ages ago. Why?! Why is it here?! Shouldn’t they all have fallen with the Dragon God?!”

Marches grimaced. None looked down on him for his terror as the other mages’ reactions were even more pronounced. After seeing the golden dragon, some of them collapsed, paralyzed on the ground. And a few even lost control of their bladder.

These mages all joined the war to gain military merit, and this was their first expedition. Facing such a horrifying enemy, their immediate reactions paled in comparison to the soldiers. Though the latter were struck by deep fear, they retained some composure and remained on their feet.

The dragon, with its gigantic form of over 300 meters and wings that seemed to cover the skies; with its head that awakened a primal fear in all spectators, and a shadow that blotted out any optimism the army initially had, could not fail to strike any person cold with terror.

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