Green Monster Epic

"Tough guy!!"

Figlas, maintaining his dragon form, continuously flapped his wide, fleshy wings, soaring in the sky, occasionally stirring up gusts of whistling wind.

On his back, Allen stood steadily, occasionally glancing back at the pursuing figure of the kobold Kozmo, and remained noncommittal upon hearing Figlas' complaint.

"How about we turn around and join forces to kill him?"

The injuries on his body were gradually scabbing over under the dragon's powerful healing ability, which was also an important reason for Figlas to maintain his dragon form, as he could only fully utilize his racial talents in his original form. Moreover, although legends can fly, it requires energy consumption, while dragons do not necessarily need to consume internal energy when flying, at most only consuming some physical strength.

"You can turn around now and see if you can kill him, but let me state in advance, I won't help you!!"

Allen's deep voice slowly uttered, resolutely rejecting the other party's proposal.

Helping Figlas escape was already the greatest contribution Allen could make as a companion. Asking him to help encircle and kill Kozmo, even if they both had the ability, Allen would not take action.

After all, Allen was not a lone wolf; he had another identity—the chieftain of the Green Field tribe. And the kobold that Figlas wanted to kill also had an identity that Allen was very wary of—an elder of the Pale Night tribe.

If Allen's previous action could barely be justified by their deep friendship, then taking action again to deal with Kozmo, regardless of the final outcome, Allen believed would inevitably trigger friction between the Green Field and Pale Night tribes.

Unless Allen could turn back and silence the kobold warriors Kozmo had left behind, otherwise, whatever happened to Kozmo next, the biggest suspects would definitely be Allen and Figlas.

Figlas was a solitary dragon, without any ties. Even if he was suspected, it would be fine; he could just wander around like in the past, treating it as a journey and adventure. But Allen couldn't; he had put too much effort into the Green Field tribe and absolutely couldn't establish a powerful enemy for the tribe due to some accidental decision.

At least in the current situation, Allen didn't think it was a wise choice to encircle and kill Kozmo for a little trouble.

"…Wow, Allen! I thought we were a team!!"

Figlas' exaggerated and surprised tone, even without seeing the other party's eyes, Allen could feel the disappointment within.

"The other party has the strongest tribe in the wilderness behind them, as well as the strongest saint. As the leader of the Green Field tribe, I can't do things without considering the consequences."

Since he had already taken action for Figlas, Allen also didn't want to please neither side, so he patiently explained to Figlas.

"With my tribe's current strength and influence, we don't have a chance of winning against the Pale Night tribe head-on, so you have to consider me too!!"

"Alright, consider this guy lucky; I'll let him go this time!!"

The slight unpleasantness and estrangement that had just arisen in his heart slowly faded away with Allen's explanation. Figlas then remembered Allen's other identity and his emphasis on his tribe.

More than a thousand meters behind, Kozmo was stubbornly clinging to the figure of the crimson dragon in front, putting all other matters behind him, not even knowing that the team of kobold subordinates he had brought had been wiped out by the drow patrol cavalry.

Kozmo was very unwilling, his hope of advancing further slipping away from his hands. He had a premonition that if he couldn't seize this opportunity, perhaps he would really die of old age at his current rank, and it wouldn't be too long, at most a few decades or even a decade or two.

Therefore, even though he had initially anticipated that the possibility of failure was extremely high when he led this group of subordinates to ambush and assassinate the dragon, he still made the decision without hesitation.

The result was as he had thought. Without the magic lock restricting the dragon's space, and with the presence of a powerful beargine whose actions were uncertain, the situation developed in the worst direction.

The only good news was perhaps that his previous ambush had inflicted a heavy blow on the dragon. Although it didn't seem to be a big problem on the surface, the internal injuries would take at least 5-6 days to not affect the battle.

This might be an opportunity for Kozmo, because the backup support he had arranged was on its way. Although he didn't know the dragon's personality, and how much trust he really had in his companion Allen, judging from the way the strong in the wilderness behaved, the dragon was very likely to wait until his injuries had gradually healed before opening the passage to the ruins.

And what Kozmo needed was these few days. By then, his reinforcements should have arrived at Crescent Lake.

However, Kozmo was also very helpless. If he wasn't really unsure that he could deal with this dragon and the beargine, and the time was indeed tight, he wouldn't have been willing to share the information about the ruins with others. After all, more people participating meant more competitors.

But Kozmo, who was weak and unprepared, couldn't care so much at this time. He had to seize this opportunity to break through, so that he would have a chance to extend his lifespan and current power and status, and enjoy the beautiful life that he still hadn't grown tired of.

Crescent Lake was like a piece of jade treasured among the mountains, nestled among towering peaks. Because the mountain's direction made the lake's shape appear long and narrow, like the red moon in the sky at the beginning of each month, curved into an arc, hence the name Crescent Lake.

Originally, as a source of all things, precious water resources in the wilderness should have nurtured a vibrant life, but the location of Crescent Lake was surrounded by mountains, and the environment was very dangerous, so except for birds and beasts, no other intelligent races were willing to settle here for a long time.

Of course, the ethereal and uncontrollable miasma fog in the mountains, as well as the numerous poisonous insects, ants, and snakes that accompanied the miasma, made the mountains very dangerous. A slight carelessness and a nap could lead to the loss of life.

In addition, the various powerful magical beasts that gathered here, following some mysterious fluctuations, made this area, known as the Ten Thousand Mountains region, one of the five most dangerous places in the wilderness.

Figlas retracted his wide wings and landed with a thud on the highest peak of Crescent Lake. His huge and heavy body instantly crushed countless dense shrubs and small trees on the peak. As Figlas' tail swept left and right, a relatively flat foothold was simply cleared out amidst the flying sand and rocks.

The originally peaceful scene around the mountain peaks was shattered. Countless startled birds and raptors flapped their wings, fleeing into the sky as if their lives depended on it. Warnings from their bloodlines and instincts told these native inhabitants that the highest-level predators had appeared. To survive, they had to escape as far as possible!

"Oh, I'm exhausted!"

Figglas leaned his massive head against his wing, the dignified ancient dragon beginning to rest, while constantly grumbling.

Along the way, to shake off the annoying kobolds behind him, even though he had already entered the Night Howl Mountains, Figglas didn't head straight for Crescent Lake. Instead, he led the kobold Kozmo nearly a thousand miles north before circling back to the Crescent Lake area of the Night Howl Mountains after shaking them off.

If Figglas knew that the kobold Kozmo had already guessed his true destination and had proactively abandoned tracking the dragon when he realized the dragon was trying to mislead them, then Figglas would probably be stomping his feet in anger!

Of course, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Figglas was injured, and these extra two days allowed him to recuperate discreetly, relying on his powerful self-healing abilities without Alan's knowledge.

Just as Kozmo had predicted, Figglas had some trust in Alan, but the many betrayals and deceptions he had experienced over the long years made him never dare to completely bet his life on so-called companions. Only himself was the most loyal.

"Alan, I've been doing all the traveling this whole time. You've seen how hard I've worked, so you have to make a good meal today to reward me!"

Dragons don't need to use their internal energy to fly, so there are no energy fluctuations. As long as they fly high enough and are careful to conceal themselves among the clouds in the sky, they don't have to worry about being detected by beings with keen spiritual senses like Alan and the others.

Therefore, Figglas had been traveling in his dragon form the whole way, only casting a hazy spell on himself to conceal his form.

"Alright, seeing how hard you've worked, I'll show off my skills and make you a delicious meal!"

Alan didn't refuse. Figglas's hard work along the way was indeed a fact. On the contrary, he had hitched a ride and rested on the dragon's broad back without any fatigue. He really should do something to make up for it.

"Then you rest here for a while, and I'll go catch some prey to bring back!"

After saying that, Alan stomped his foot on the ground and leaped down the mountain, heading off to find today's ingredients.

As one of the five dangerous wilderness areas, not many adventurers would come to the Night Howl Mountains. In addition, these mountains covered a vast area. When Alan and Figglas released their spiritual power to search the surroundings, they didn't find any traces of intelligent creatures.

Alan landed on the grassland beside Crescent Lake, where he could vaguely see traces of animal activity in a few relatively flat areas along the shore.

Looking around, he didn't find any suitable prey for the time being. Alan wasn't in a hurry, so he simply explored slowly along the shoreline, searching for useful ingredients. A loose mound of earth blocked Alan's path. Alan accidentally scraped the dirt on top of the mound with his leather boots, and then tens of thousands of tiny, green-bean-sized purple flying ants swarmed out of the mound, buzzing and attacking Alan, completely ignoring the aura of a powerful being emanating from him.

Chomp! Chomp!

The sound of gnawing and tearing appeared on the black dragon scales. Alan's keen eyes swept over, and although the teeth of these flying ants didn't do much damage to the dragon scales, when a few of the flying ants penetrated the gaps in the scales and burrowed into Alan's inner armor, suddenly tearing a bite out of Alan's skin, a piercing pain immediately changed Alan's expression.

Whoosh!

A ball of orange-red rage flame suddenly burned from within his body, sweeping away the purple flying ants that were crawling all over him. Alan frowned slightly, unbuckled the clasp in front of him, and peered at the places where he had been bitten by the tiny flying ants. In a short time, those few wounds had already shown slight discoloration, looking like they had been poisoned.

While using rage to block the poisonous blood at the wound and force it out of his body, Alan took out a bottle of detoxification potion from his dimensional bag and drank it down.

After doing these steps, Alan lowered his head and looked at the mound of earth beneath him. More and more flying ants were still flying out of it, rushing towards the raging flames, and then turning into scorched corpses on the ground.

He stomped down hard with one foot, and the half-meter-high mound of earth, along with the surrounding area of more than a meter, suddenly sank deep into the ground, as much as two meters deep. At this time, the flying ants in the mound finally had no more source, giving Alan some peace.

Alan didn't expect that such a small, inconspicuous mound of earth would actually hide such a group of formidable poisonous insects. According to Alan's personal experience just now, the toxicity of the venom secreted by these flying ants was probably no less than the venom created by a 6th-level poison spell.

Before Alan could recover, a cloud of miasma suddenly formed on the lake surface a dozen meters away, changing from light to dense, and spreading into a pink mist in a dozen breaths.

Fish in the lake seemed to be attracted by some quality in the mist, and they jumped out of the lake into the mist. They opened their small mouths and swallowed two mouthfuls of mist, and then the palm-sized fish had already turned their white bellies up. Corrosive gaps gradually appeared from their mouths and then spread throughout their bodies. In Alan's naked eye, they quickly turned into a section of white bone, and at this time, the corpses of the white bones had not yet sunk to the bottom of the lake out of sight.

Seeing this scene, Alan quickly moved back a few steps, keeping away from the direction the miasma was wandering, so as not to be troubled by this unknown miasma.

A dangerous place is a dangerous place, and it's naturally not a false reputation. Alan, who originally had enough confidence in his strength, adjusted his attitude in a short time after seeing these situations, and no longer dared to be careless and underestimate this place that seemed to have little danger.

After checking the terrain and catching two freshwater fish more than three meters long from the lake, about a magic hour had passed. Thinking that Figglas was still waiting for him to go back and cook, Alan temporarily gave up the plan to further explore the terrain and hurried back with the captured ingredients.