Just as David was preparing to make a somewhat dignified exit, confront his Dragon Mother directly, and demonstrate his value to seize that slim chance of survival, he noticed a flicker of disgust cross the Red Dragon Mother's face. Then, with a flap of her wings, she pushed off the ground and soared into the depths of the mountain range.
Ah, this... This unexpected survival left everyone utterly astounded.
Only after confirming the Dragon Mother had flown far away did David dare to burst out. He shook the Crimson Ash from his head and body, gasping for air.
Reflecting on his terrifying brush with death still made the back of his head feel a little stiff.
Yet, he still didn't understand. The Dragon Mother must have at least noticed the Drow's presence earlier, so why hadn't she wiped them out?
Pondering this, he instinctively turned his head. His face stiffened, his eyes mirroring the same look of disdain the Dragon Mother had shown earlier.
He saw two Drow survivors, half-buried in a pile of dragon dung, both with their buttocks sticking out. One was even defecating and urinating, resembling maggots squirming relentlessly in a latrine.
If it were me, I probably wouldn't want to step in my own crap just to kill a couple of maggots either. That would be insane!
Arrogance
Seeing such words frequently appear in his consciousness, especially since each occurrence caused his head to feel uncomfortably swollen, David suddenly had an idea:
Could it be that this Goldfinger of mine is rechargeable? It's just that I haven't found the method to use them yet?
Recalling the first couple of times he had unintentionally used these abilities, David had a revelation.
He felt like he had discovered the key.
But he didn't dare to try recklessly. What if his powers really worked on charges or required a specific medium?
If that were the case, and he rashly showed his hand only to fail to kill the two Drow...
No, judging by the Drow leader's various displays, it seemed nearly impossible for me to kill her with my current capabilities.
Wait a second...
Old Continent, New Continent, Sea Gate Port...
Pieces of information he had overheard on the road flowed through his mind.
The ship!
That's right, they'll definitely need a ship to transport me back.
So...
All I have to do is burn their ship, right?!
As for whether the Drow, enraged by such an action, would relentlessly hunt him down and try to kill him?
Heh, he knew the Drow too well—no, it was his ancestor who understood the Drow far too well.
To the Drow, as long as they saw the slightest glimmer of hope for advancement, they would gamble everything, down to their very last undergarment.
And whether now or in the future, he, as a Red Hatchling, was a glittering gold chip to the Drow.
The kind that could overturn fate and bring about a complete reversal of fortunes!
In other words, when that time comes...
I'm the daddy now! Hehehehe.
Just as David made his decision and sneered silently, he felt a cool touch on his neck.
He didn't need to look to know it was the Drow's curved knives at his neck.
Perhaps it was because he had suddenly escaped the mortal threat of the Dragon Mother, but even finding himself back in his initial predicament, his mood was surprisingly good.
He immediately lay flat on the cool Gobi Desert floor like a listless fish, signaling he had no desire to resist.
After all, all six of his limbs were bound; even his tail hadn't been spared. He couldn't exactly raise his claws in surrender like a human, could he?
Moreover, given a Dragon's nature, if he were to bare his fangs and claws, the Drow would undoubtedly interpret it as the prelude to a fight to the death.
Seeing the Red Hatchling so compliant, the two Drow, who had been prepared for a struggle, exchanged glances. Hiatt, the Drow leader, said with resignation, "Come and help."
"Ah? Me... I'm to help?"
The Drow Mage, who had just narrowly escaped death, looked at the Red Hatchling—nearly the size of a young gnu. The thought of having to carry it with her delicate frame all the way to the port, at least forty or fifty kilometers away, made her calves begin to tremble uncontrollably.
Hiatt planted her hands on her hips, surveyed the area littered with blood plasma and Elf offal, and shot the Mage a look reserved for an idiot and a waste of space. "Otherwise? Do you think you can use your substandard Undead magic to make our unlucky sisters, who've been crushed to bits, perform a 'Dance of the Dead'?"
"That would require at least the fifth-tier 'Dance of Death'..." the Drow Mage mumbled, lowering her head in shame.
"Or perhaps you'd like to untie our dear little Red Dragon darling now and gamble on whether he'll roast you along with a yawn?"
The mentioned David finally couldn't resist rolling his eyes, but he didn't even entertain the notion of seizing the opportunity to argue for a moment's freedom.
He knew it was impossible. Still, watching the two Drow in their awkward predicament, he couldn't help but feel a bit of schadenfreude.
It had been so long since he transmigrated; it was finally his turn to watch someone else's misfortune.
"..." The Drow Mage's head hung even lower.
"Then what are you standing there for? Come and lift!" Hiatt barely restrained the urge to cut down this fool now and then, upon their return, deal with the agent who had recruited her.
Because of the Dragon Mother's sudden arrival, the bodies of the two Drow originally kept as reserve rations for the Red Dragon had been disposed of somewhere.
If she couldn't get this Red Hatchling onto the ship before dawn tomorrow, she would have to consider sacrificing this sole remaining subordinate.
"I..." Sensing the murderous intent, the Drow Mage could only put on a miserable expression, bend down, and undertake the labor typically meant for warriors.
At dawn the next day, two Drow were carrying David, who was growing restless from hunger. When Hiatt finally saw the silhouette of the ship moored by the coast, she heaved a long sigh of relief.
"My Lady, I pray! Rose the Supreme, the ship is still here."
From the moment she saw the Dragon Mother, she had worried the ship might have been incinerated by a Dragon Breath.
Now, it seemed her luck hadn't been that terrible.
With this True Red Hatchling in her possession, she at least still held a trump card to turn things around.
"I really... can't walk anymore... Captain..." The trembling Drow Mage collapsed on the spot.
This Red Hatchling was incredibly heavy! It was like carrying a solid block of iron ore.
Hiatt didn't even deign to glance at this useless subordinate, instead whistling towards the coast.
A quarter of an hour later, David, who had been feigning sleep the entire journey, was carried into the ship's cabin by several Drow who came from the vessel to assist. He opened his eyes upon smelling a faint herbal scent.
The Drow cabin was dim yet tranquil. After passing through a narrow companionway on deck, David was quickly captivated by a scene utterly different from anything on Blue Star.
The cabin walls were adorned with drapes woven from exquisite spider silk, shimmering with an eerie luminescence in the dim light. Pottery jars and statues of unknown purpose decorated every corner.
In the center of the cabin, a desk made of dark, somber wood took up a good portion of the space.
On it were stacks of books, parchment, ink bottles, and quills. The most conspicuous item was the *Red Dragon Book*, spread open on the desk. In the corner near the desk and a porthole was a comfortable rocking chair draped with Winter Wolf fur, for the captain to read and reflect during long voyages.
Witnessing this, David narrowed his eyes slightly, once again raising his assessment of the Drow leader's threat level.
After all, a powerful enemy isn't scary; an educated enemy is.
He was certain she had corresponding experience and contingency plans for every threat a common Red Hatchling could pose.
Such as how to counter a Dragon's Breath.
However, as the Drow continued to carry him down to the next level, the corners of David's eyes gradually crinkled into a smile.
As he had anticipated, even a formidable Drow captain like her, after enduring numerous trials and life-or-death crises, couldn't help but lower her guard somewhat upon returning to the reassuring safety of her ship.
As long as the Drow leader isn't personally guarding me, my chances of success have increased by more than half!
Upon reaching the lowest hold of the ship, the comfort vanished. The entire lower hold was shrouded in thick darkness, punctuated only by the faint glimmer of candlelight. Black, rusty chains and iron rings hung from the walls. In one corner, atop a bed of Crimson Ash, lay a pile of colorful Dragon Eggs—likely the spoils from plundering numerous Dragon Nests. Additionally, the floor was inscribed with a circle of strange runes, emanating an aura vaguely familiar to David.
That was the Mana Energy radiated from the mother Dragon's bloodline within a Dragon Nest.
The answer, from his draconic heritage, surfaced in his subconscious.
These Drow had actually simulated it with magical runes to ensure the Dragon Eggs' survival and hatching rates.
Just as David was marveling at this, he noticed the iron chains on the wall and nearly cursed aloud.
He almost didn't need to guess—they were for restraining Hatchlings like him, who had broken out of their shells prematurely.
This meant that even if he succeeded in burning the ship, he would still have to engage in a battle of wits with the Drow.
But then, something unexpected happened.
The Drow didn't immediately chain him to the wall. One of them gleefully pried open the base of David's tail, then prodded towards his cloaca, cooing, "Heard you're a self-hatched True Dragon? Come on, spread 'em and let this sister see. Hope it's a little male Dragon, kekeke."
This seemingly outrageous act not only went unstopped, but the other three Drow also craned their necks in curious anticipation.
After all, this matter directly concerned the value of the cargo.
Male Dragons were worth more than twice as much on the market.
Compared to the long estrus cycles of female Dragons, Elves, though still far inferior to humans in this regard, were considerably faster, weren't they?
Ever since an accidental transport incident where Dragonkin Drow—previously considered mere slaves, much like male Drow—displayed impressive destructive power on the battlefield against High Elves, the value of male Dragons had skyrocketed.
That was why the Drow always took such pleasure in cracking open Dragon Eggs and determining the gender of the Hatchlings.
Dead eggs, draconic beasts, True Dragons, and especially male True Dragons—their values were worlds apart.
So, at such moments, the feeling was much like that of the old Myanmese jade gamblers on Blue Star.
But David knew nothing of this. Recalling the Drow's notoriously depraved nature, he was utterly convinced these few leering Drow were about to force themselves on him, a newborn only two days old!
Beasts!!!
The young Red Hatchling was filled with grief and fury.
[Wrath]