Under the warm sunlight that seemed to melt gold, the massive body of the young Golden Dragon Alberto trembled slightly, his consciousness slowly rising to the bright surface like a pearl sinking deep into the sea.
He awoke leisurely, feeling every piece of his scale armor immersed in a long-lost tranquility and comfort.
The mental strings that had been tightened for five years completely relaxed, presenting a lazy serenity.
The world before him, whether it was the swaying wild grass or craggy rocks, seemed covered by a soft and warm filter, making everything less sharp and glaring.
He clearly recalled the last scene before he fell asleep.
—That overconfident challenge.
The result, of course, was an unsurprising crushing defeat.
He was knocked out by the terrible Dragon Breath of the Red Iron Dragon, kneeling in the most embarrassing posture before that black and red scaled figure like burning metal.
The outcome was extremely humiliating.
