For the past five months, Cassius had spent his time in the forests of Bokara Mountain, seeking out stronger beasts. The red dragon turned them both into food for his growth and into experience for his advancement.
Proper caution was necessary, and Cassius would not attempt to challenge powerful creatures unless he was fully prepared.
Now, Cassius had risen to Level 2, learning the ability "Mana Surge" and gaining spellcasting power.
Through this period of hunting, the young red dragon in his growth stage had grown noticeably larger, now measuring six meters from snout to tail tip.
His scales gleamed brighter, small bony ridges emerged along his back, though not yet a complete dorsal fin—signs he was nearing his next stage of development.
His raised head grew fiercer, the horns on his forehead lengthened and hardened, a new ring of horns appeared, and a short keratinous spike sprouted from his chin. His pupils had also lightened slightly in color.
Yet, he still bore the hallmark of a juvenile dragon: a large head with a relatively small body.
His proportions were still somewhat comical.
Cassius gulped down a chunk of meat, then looked up at the interface.
"Choose to advance Sorcerer level."
[Your Sorcerer level has increased to Level 3]
[The magical power suppressed within your body, mind, and soul is released. Through sheer will, you can twist spells to achieve desired effects. You gain the ability Metamagic]
[You may choose two Metamagic options]
[You gained Metamagic: Quickened Spell and Metamagic: Twinned Spell]
Metamagic: Quickened Spell:
You expend sorcery points to warp a spell with your will, allowing it to be cast instantly without preparation.
Metamagic: Twinned Spell:
You expend sorcery points to duplicate a prepared spell, allowing it to affect multiple targets simultaneously.
Cassius immediately chose the most "brainless" metamagic combo known from his past life.
Although sorcerers, unlike wizards, didn't need to construct spell models, they still needed to feel the Weave and prepare spells.
But Quickened Spell allowed him to cast directly, making spells an extension of his will.
And Twinned Spell needed no explanation: in battle, even half a spell could change the tide, let alone an extra one.
[You have gained Level 1 Spells: Charm Person, Thunderwave]
[You have gained Level 2 Spells: Invisibility, Enhance Ability]
In terms of spells, Cassius leaned toward utility rather than direct damage.
After all, as a red dragon, his fangs and fiery breath far surpassed most low-level spells in damage, not to mention his once-per-day scorching ray.
Meanwhile, abilities like Invisibility or Charm Person could prove far more useful than a bit of extra damage.
Having made his choice, the red dragon slowly closed his eyes.
An immense surge of sorcerous power erupted from deep within, flooding outward like a spring, binding itself to his will.
No calculations or models were needed—just raw force twisting magic to his desire.
This was the Weave, a system of both order and chaos entwined.
Several spells surfaced from his soul, etched deeply into his mind. He had finally touched a higher layer of the Weave, gaining deeper insight into its mysteries.
"It's about time to leave this place… The next destination shall be the Storm Highlands."
Fed and satisfied, the red dragon abandoned the forest nests without hesitation and soared into the skies.
The heavens were vast and cloudless, painted a deep blue.
Below lay the dense forest, deer darting between the trees.
Farther ahead stretched a desolate plateau, where faint city outlines could be seen.
And beyond that—endless snow-covered mountains.
This was the Great Anzeta Wasteland, in the northwest of the Elzegacy Continent, encircled by the mighty Anstica Mountains.
It was called the "Land Without Spring" due to its perpetually cold climate.
For a thousand years, the resilient Scanran people had built dozens of cities here, gradually forming the Northern United Kingdom under Grand Duke Bosque.
Orcs, giants, goblins, and even dragons shared this vast land.
Strong winds lashed the red dragon's scales, drying the blood at his lips.
All these sensations reminded Cassius—or rather, Ethan—of one undeniable fact:
He was alive.
Truly alive beneath this sky.
This was not a virtual game.
Gazing at the earth below, he whispered:
"I… am Cassius."
But the rest of his words were stolen by the howling gales:
"…and also Ethan."
Deep in the mountains, in the coldest part of Anzeta, stood a towering black spire.
No one knew its origins, and none dared approach it.
From it echoed strange beastly wails, earning it the name: The Eternal Night Demon Tower.
At its peak, a man in a black robe, his face hidden, stood waiting.
Upon his chest was a rusted medallion bearing a flame burning upon a dragon's claw, filled with watching eyes.
Suddenly, a portal appeared.
A grotesque creature crawled forth, bowing before the man in a twisted posture.
It stood over three meters tall, and even kneeling, it loomed over the man.
Its body was deformed, as if stitched together from mismatched flesh.
White scales covered parts of it, yet much flesh remained bare, with long hair drooping from its head in a disgusting sight.
With difficulty, it rasped:
"Master… it is… a red dragon."
It extended its mangled limb, presenting a charred bone still recognizable as a dire wolf's skull.
The man's tone grew strangely excited:
"A powerful red dragon? Excellent! Excellent!"
The monster added:
"It's cunning. I have not yet found its lair."
The man burst into manic laughter:
**"Hahaha! Don't worry. I know red dragons too well… Arrogant, greedy, wrathful, violent, lazy to think…
Once they gain enough power, they flaunt it everywhere, marking their territory like rabid dogs."**
His voice turned obsessed:
"When that time comes… that power shall be mine."
"Yes… Master."
The monster bowed lower, hiding its blue eyes beneath its hair.
The man stepped forward, stroking its head without concern for the sticky fluids covering it, and whispered:
"I won't fail again… Never."
His words seemed directed both at the monster… and himself.
The red dragon soared freely through the skies, and in the distance, sheer cliffs pierced the clouds — the Hurricane Cliffs.
Here lay the northern pass of the Arcad Mountains, a place where storms gathered and hurricanes often raged.
Southward for a hundred miles stretched rolling slopes littered with stones, scraggly trees, and even tundra; this entire region was known as the Storm Plateau.
In his previous life, it bore another name — the Beginner's Graveyard.
Owing to violent elemental reactions, few humans ventured here, leaving countless creatures to thrive savagely: hill giants, gnolls, ogres, goblins, and even wyverns. One misstep could mean being surrounded by evil monsters.
But to Kaesius, an evil dragon, this was nothing less than a holy ground for leveling and recruiting minions.
Winter was drawing near, and the hurricanes of the Storm Plateau carried flecks of snow. Grass withered on the ground, yellow and dry, patches of thin snow covering it.
Even in the air, the red dragon felt the chill, exhaling a sulfurous heat that turned falling snowflakes into vapor.
"I need to find a warm enough lair," he thought.
Cloudpeak Mountain had once been ideal; though it lay in Anzata's barren "Land Without Spring," its cave was rich with geothermal heat and even veins of lava, perfectly suiting a red dragon's lust for fire and warmth.
But ever since his "cheap mother" had been slain, the place was no longer safe. The kingdom may well have stationed guards at the cave mouth to prevent the evil wyrm's return.
Rummaging through his memories of the Storm Plateau, Kaesius recalled a promising spot.
"Perhaps I can find a servant… or grind some experience."
Revitalized against the biting wind, he stretched his wings and glided low.
The Giant's Maw Cave.
No one knew who coined the crude name—perhaps some bored bard. Maybe the jagged rocks around the mouth resembled a giant's rotten teeth, or maybe the gaping opening looked like a maw. Whatever the case, the name stuck.
Even ogres and goblins nearby used it, fitting their meager imagination.
The cave's master had changed many times; now it belonged to a Chimera.
A legendary beast said to have been crafted by the demon lord Demogorgon, summoned into the mortal world. It bore goat hind legs, lion forelimbs, dragon wings, and three heads of those same beasts.
It embodied the worst of each: the dragon's greed for raiding and hoarding treasure; the lion's drive to hunt down any strong rival in its territory; and the goat's spiteful stubbornness, fighting to the bitter end.
At that moment, the cave's lord lounged lazily at its mouth, licking its wounds.
Its massive, seven-meter body sprawled across the rocks, soaking in their warmth. The apex predator of the area, its lair piled with bones told the tale — among them human remains, armor, and swords, relics of adventurers it had devoured.
But the thunder of wings outside shattered the peace.
The chimera roared in fury, rising to confront the intruder — only to see a mighty red dragon land with a crash.
"Submit to me… or die."
The red dragon spoke in Draconic.
Though it rarely spoke, its dragon blood allowed it to understand.
It studied the intruder. This red dragon was clearly still young, smaller in size, but its body was stronger and more compact.
A dangerous opponent, yes, but not invincible.
The lion's head growled deeply, primal instincts demanding the hunt of such a formidable prey. The half-grown red dragon was undoubtedly a worthy challenge.
Hearing its growl, Kaesius shook his head regretfully. "So troublesome being this small… If I were a twenty-meter adult red dragon blocking the cave mouth with my wings, would the chimera even dare refuse?"
He needed to grow faster.
His expression hardened, golden slit pupils narrowing with fervor. His taut muscles quivered with anticipation.
The chimera bellowed and launched skyward, playing its familiar trick: diving from above while spewing fire from its dragon head.
But using fire against a red dragon? A fatal mistake.
The beast lacked knowledge, lacked true battle wisdom.
On the ground, Kaesius held still, muscles tight.
"Seize the first strike."
He whispered in Draconic, faint violet light glimmering in his eyes.
It was a simple but effective cantrip, granting him foresight to strike decisively at the next attack.
The chimera plunged, flames gushing, closing to mere meters.
Kaesius' glowing pupils fixed coldly on it, reading its path.
In the next instant, his coiled muscles burst with energy.
Wings spread, his seven-meter frame sprang skyward like a released spring, cleaving through the flames to collide with the chimera mid-air.
The chimera tried frantically to veer away—
But it was already too late.