Reincarnated as a blue dragon, he collided head-on with a wizarding civilization.

At the end of the dead forest, the terrain suddenly opens up.

Motu hadn't seen such a vast sky in a long time.

In the dark forest, the sky overhead is always fragmented by the tree canopy, with scattered patches of light, like a shattered mirror.

Now, the entire sky stretches out before us without any obstruction.

The gray-blue dome stretched from one end of the horizon to the other, with a few wisps of thin clouds hanging lazily, their edges torn into fluffy shapes by the wind.

The two moons had already set, and the eastern sky was tinged with a pale, fish-belly white.

The morning light fell on the gray-white trunks of the withered trees, making them look like rows of faded tombstones.

In the very center of this open area, a sentry post made of black stone stands between two low hills.

The outpost wasn't high; from a distance, it looked like a black pebble casually placed on the ground. Only upon closer inspection did one realize that its low profile was a deception.

The stone walls were thick and the window openings were narrow, flattening out all possible angles for attack. The entire building resembled a giant beast lying on the ground, silent, stable, and not easily shaken.

There was no wall surrounding the outpost, only a few thick stone pillars, one every ten steps or so, stretching from one side of the low hill to the other.

The stone pillars are engraved with dragon language runes and emit a faint glow.

Blue, green, and purple lights intertwined, almost invisible in the morning light, but Motu could feel the power within them.

That's a barrier, a boundary marker indicating the boundary between the "breeding farm" and the "dragon's nest territory".

Standing on this side of the boundary marker, one sees a dark forest.

Standing on that side is the dragon's nest.

Motu stood beside the last tree in the withered forest, his vertical pupils fixed on the stone pillars, remaining silent for a long time.

This was the first time he had felt the existence of boundaries so clearly.

Behind him lay the Dark Forest, the place known as the "Dragon Breeding Farm No. 3".

The trees, moss, soil, and rivers inside—every inch of land was soaked in dragon's blood and the aura of death.

There was no sky there, only a dark green dome woven from tree canopies, and the occasionally appearing and disappearing dragon eagles with fierce claws.

The cycle of hunter and hunted plays out there every day, following the naked law of the jungle.

In front of him lay the Dragon's Nest territory.

Although it was only the most outpost on the edge, the stench of decay had disappeared from the air, replaced by a dry, unfamiliar smell with a mineral scent.

The sky stretched out completely, from one end of the horizon to the other, unobstructed by tree canopies or entwined by vines, with only clouds and wind, and the dark red sunset about to sink below the horizon.

"We've finally arrived."

Shark White stood beside him, its three-layered serrations wide open, took a deep breath, and its chest bulged high.

Its tail swished loudly behind it, its vertical pupils reflected the vast sky, and its eyes shone with undisguised excitement.

It has wandered the Dark Forest for six years, and today it is finally qualified to stand in front of the Dragonman Outpost.

Motu didn't reply. His gaze swept across the open field and landed on the gate of the outpost.

Two dragon-man sentinels stood there.

They are over two meters tall and much smaller than Motu and Shark White.

Dragonmen are not dragons, but rather the offspring of true dragons and humanoid beings, who directly obey and pledge allegiance to Lady Olpes, the mother of the dragon's nest.

Their bodies retained the basic human-like outline.

It walks upright with a long, slender torso and five-fingered hands and toe-walking feet. Every inch of its skin is covered in scales, dark green scales that gleam coldly in the twilight, like a layer of close-fitting armor.

The head is lizard-shaped, with a short and wide snout, narrow nostrils, and dark yellow vertical pupils without whites, consisting only of a thin, elongated pupil.

The dragon-man sentinels held long spears with black iron tips, each half a foot long, the edges so sharp they reflected light in the twilight.

Its scale-covered toes gripped the ground tightly, its body leaned slightly forward, and its vertical pupils coldly scanned every dragon beast that came in and out.

Motu noticed that the way they looked at those dragon beasts was no different from how they looked at prey in the Dark Forest.

Taking a deep breath, Blue Dragon strode forward, leading White Dragon toward the outpost.

The sentry's gaze fell on Motu and Shark White, looking them up and down several times before pointing the tip of his spear at the ground, signaling them to stop.

"State your name. Your rank. Your bloodline."

The sentry on the left spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Motu, Blue Dragon, Tier 1, Frost Embryo."

"Shark White, White Dragon Sub-Dragon, Tier 1, Frost Embryo."

The two sentries exchanged a glance.

The sentry on the right turned and entered the outpost with steady steps, his spear slung over his shoulder, the tip of which left a shallow mark on the ground.

The sentry on the left pointed with the tip of his spear at the open space beside him:

"Wait."

Shark White opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing the Sentinel's expressionless face, he closed his mouth again.

It obediently walked to the open space, squatted down, and its tail swished restlessly behind it.

Motu also walked over and squatted down next to Shark White.

A morning breeze blew in from the open area, carrying a scent that Motu had never smelled before.

It wasn't the smell of humus from a dark forest, nor the smell of ashes from a dead tree; rather, it was a dry, mineral-scented smell that belonged to the outside world.

Sha Bai nudged him with his shoulder: "Where do you think we'll be assigned?"

"have no idea."

"Will we be separated?"

Motu paused for a moment.

"have no idea."

Shark White muttered something and drew circles on the ground with its claws.

It drew a circle, then drew an X inside the circle, then erased the X and drew a checkmark instead.

Not satisfied with the finished drawing, he smoothed out the entire pattern with his claws.

After waiting for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the sentry came out of the outpost and waved to them.

"Come in."

The inside of the outpost appears more spacious than the outside.

A straight corridor leads from the entrance into the depths, with low stone doors on both sides, covered with animal skin curtains. Occasionally, dragon people or dragon beasts peek out from behind the curtains, curiously observing them.

At the end of the corridor was a larger stone door, half-open, through which dim candlelight shone.

The sentry led them to the stone door and tapped the door frame three times with the butt of his spear.

"Sir. The newcomer."

"Come in."

His voice was hoarse, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

Motu bent down and crawled through the stone gate.

The space inside is much more spacious than the corridor.

A huge stone table occupied the center of the room, on which lay several animal hide registers, their edges worn and frayed, as if they had been turned over countless times.

A dragon flag hung on the wall, its dark red surface almost covering the entire wall, embroidered with Ms. Olpessie's emblem.

A blue dragon with outstretched wings, holding a scepter in its claws.

Below the dragon flag was a bronze candlestick with three candles burning simultaneously. The candlelight flickered on the dark red flag, making the dragon appear to come alive.

A dragon-man warlord sat behind a stone table.

He was a size larger than the sentry at the gate, with broad shoulders and a large back; sitting on the stone bench, he looked like a small mountain.

The scales are dark gray, not a bright gray, but a gray that looks like it has been smoked by fire and has gone through countless battles.

There is a vertical scar on his right eye, which runs from his brow bone to his cheekbone, cutting his pupil in two.

The severed pupil was still moving, its dark yellow vertical pupil devoid of any emotion.

His gaze swept from Motu to Sha Bai, then back again, as if weighing the two items.

"Promoted to the next level, retaining rationality, and meeting the conditions for leaving the farm."

He opened a scroll of animal hide registers, his claws scurrying across the pages.

"But the rules of the nest mother are that leaving does not equal freedom."

From the moment you hatch from the dragon egg, from being fed to being educated, you are all resources provided by the nest mother.

Even the dark forest you depend on for survival is the territory ruled by the Nest Mother.

Strictly speaking, you are also part of Dragon's Nest's property!