Saron stood upon the land, using his Earth magic and sensing the subterranean currents to gauge what lay beneath the ground.
Days had passed, and Saron himself had no clue where he had ended up.
All around him were trees, just damn trees, and after three days of flight, he still hadn't cleared the forest.
He felt a wave of irritation; that damned legacy memory hadn't even provided him with a map.
After casually slaying a few unnamed birds, Saron landed on the ground, drinking their blood to quench his thirst.
For safety's sake, upon landing, he would cast Earth Pulse to check for anything lurking underground, preventing unwanted surprises from unknown creatures like the lurking aquatic demons.
But this time, it seemed his search had struck gold.
To be sure, he even used a Scouting Spell!
The Scouting Spell, a draconic legacy magic, could identify most materials.
"Topaz, no less!" Saron was pleasantly surprised.
Topaz looked like yellow jade, this ore with its blue-yellow sheen, high transparency, and incredible hardness, beloved by dragons.
Beneath the surface lay a whole vein of topaz, roughly estimated to yield hundreds of tons—a substantial vein by any standard.
To any true dragon, this was a fortune immense.
Saron felt an urge to roar his delight to the heavens.
Such ore would surely make a fine feast!
Mad, every banquet had Saron eager to use it.
Like in his past life playing games, watching his health surge while his enemies could only scratch in vain.
It was a delight like no other!
Though a true dragon, Saron valued treasure, but not like other dragons who hoarded it in caves for sheer satisfaction.
To him, only the treasure consumed was worth anything.
It was then that Saron sensed some magical fluctuations.
He sighed; focused on the riches below, he had neglected the stirrings around him.
Some creature had marked him as prey!
Heh.
"Insignificant crawlers, show yourselves!" Saron's eyes blazed as he surveyed his surroundings.
Under his watchful gaze, the air around him began to shift.
Creatures towering over two meters tall materialized before him, encircling him with their crude weapons—bone clubs and wooden staves, some adorned with rudimentary armor.
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"Forest trolls!"
Saron recognized the life form.
Their towering stature, the fine down on their skin, the blue-green epidermis.
And those massive tusks were unmistakable hallmarks of forest trolls.
"A dragon, truly!"
A troll wielding a colossal bone club exclaimed with excitement.
A juvenile dragon was a sign of hope for their Malocclusion Tribe, a rise in power if they were to be blessed with dragon's blood.
Saron surveyed the forest troll tribe, about eighty-strong.
They resembled green-skinned orcs, but they were entirely different.
Forest trolls had blue skin, which appeared green mainly due to the moss that grew on them.
Saron's gaze then shifted to three female trolls in the distance, noticeably smaller than the rest.
While shamans were spell-casters in green-skinned orc tribes, it was the highly-gifted female trolls who wielded magic in forest troll tribes, with the males typically serving as warriors.
Saron did not attempt to take flight, for the female trolls had just cast some anti-flight magic.
Taking off would require considerable effort, time during which the other trolls could attack him.
Besides, Saron didn't fancy leaving just like that; after all, the vast ore vein beneath him required miners.
He had no intention of mining it himself.
"Foolish trolls, are you truly prepared to raise your hand against a real dragon?"
Saron's deep voice resonated once more, distinctly different from the immature tones of younger dragons.
He unfurled his colossal wings, even larger than those of ordinary dragons, to enhance his intimidating presence, and then tilted his head back, unashamedly releasing his draconic aura.
Some of the troll warriors felt oppressed, their grip on their weapons faltering.
"This..."
The troll chieftain, Shadar, was struck by a thought as he beheld the imposing dragon.
Was this an entity his tribe could truly contend with?
"Shadar, this might be the only chance for our Malocclusion Tribe to rise!" A one-eyed elder troll sighed at Shadar's hesitance.
"I won't give up!" Shadar's eyes flashed with resolve upon hearing this.
The body of a dragon was a treasure trove; their scales could create the strongest of armors, their teeth and horns fashioned into formidable weapons.
Dragon meat could fortify the body, and their blood could transform a common warrior into a mighty Dragonblood Warrior.
"Warriors! For our tribe, let's slay this dragon and with its blood, we shall become true Dragonblood Warriors, and never go hungry again!"
Bolstered by Shadar's rallying cry, the trolls mustered their courage.
"Shalaman, cast your spells quickly!"
At Shadar's command, the female trolls began their incantations.
"Weakening Curse!"
"Voodoo Hex!"
...
Negative enchantments began to take hold of Saron, while augmentation spells were cast on the warrior trolls, spurring them into a frenzy.
With a crunch, the front line of trolls threw their bone spears, crafted from the sharpest bones of magical beasts, even more lethal than iron, enchanted with magic. They seemed to envision the black dragon, pierced and bleeding fresh, allowing them to drink deeply of its blood.
But Saron did not dodge the incoming spears; to play it safe, he had quietly cast Stone Skin on himself.
He intended to subjugate these trolls with a display of overwhelming strength.
Thud, thud, thud – to the trolls' astonishment, Saron didn't even flinch; the barrage of spears bounced harmlessly off his scales, falling to the ground.
"Is that all?" Saron regarded the trolls with disdain. The negative magic had its effect, but to him, it was negligible.
"Aaaaargh!"
Shadar drew his own spear, forged from a metal claimed from a human adventurer he had slain.
Swish!
The spear thrust towards Saron's head, but Saron casually caught it in his jaws.
His crimson eyes fixed unflinchingly on Shadar.
Crunch, crunch – he bit the spear to pieces and swallowed it.
"Any more? Crawlers, I'll give you one more chance to show some real strength!"
Shadar and the trolls were dumbstruck. Despite the negative magic and their spears, their foe was unscathed.
If all dragons were this formidable, how exactly had their ancestors slain dragons centuries ago?
Shadar now seriously doubted the boasts in his tribe's legends about ancestors slaying dragons – they seemed more like self-glorifying myths!