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

Faced with the somewhat agitated white dragon, the dragon-man overseer showed a hint of surprise, not expecting that the two dragons had such a deep bond.

But he didn't pay much attention to it, and just looked down at the roster, as if looking for some other information.

Seeing the other party's reaction, Shark White took a step forward, its tail whipping behind it, kicking up a cloud of dust:

"Why? We came together! We've always been together!"

The dragon-man executive officer who had gone out earlier reappeared at the door at some point.

He leaned against the doorframe, his pale yellow vertical pupils fixed on the childlike Shark White, his tone flat:

"Assignments are based on strengths and attitude. You have Megalodon blood and are also a White Dragon, making you well-suited for patrolling waterways."

He's interested in wizards, and there happens to be a dragonblood wizard from the Holy Blood Tower leading a group across the border. Separating is better for both of you.

The white shark swung its tail even harder, the tip of its tail slapping the ground with a loud cracking sound.

Its three serrated teeth were fully extended, a low gurgling sound came from its throat, and its vertical pupils were full of grievance and resentment:

"I don't care about any special skills or anything like that! I—"

"Shark White".

Motu's voice wasn't loud, but it was very steady.

Shark White turned his head to look at him.

Motu shook his head, his vertical pupils conveying no extraneous emotion, only one meaning:

Now is not the time to make trouble.

Shark White opened his mouth, and the gurgling sound in his throat slowly subsided.

Its three serrated edges closed, and its tail stopped wagging, hanging down behind it, with the tip drawing circles on the ground.

"I will follow your instructions," Motu said.

Sha Bai stared at him for several seconds, the light in his vertical pupils gradually dimming until only a vague, sullen sense of grievance remained.

It lowered its head, rested its chin on the ground, and muttered:

"Then... take care."

Motu did not answer. He looked at the Dragonman Overlord, who had already finished flipping through the roster, and looked up at him with a vertical pupil that was cut in half by a scar.

"The Seventh Mixed Defense Team is stationed on the border of the Youshui River Basin, which is quite far from here."

The Dragon Man Commander said,

"Go with the executive officer to report for duty; someone will pick you up."

Motu nodded, turned and walked out of the stone house.

Shark White lay on the ground, chin resting in the crack of the stone slab, his vertical pupils fixed on Mo Tu's back, motionless.

Motu paused half a step when he reached the door, without turning back.

"I'll come find you once I'm settled," he said.

Then he went outside.

By this time, the morning light had already bathed the entire outpost.

The runes on the stone pillars were almost invisible in the sunlight; only by getting close could one discover the faint glow that remained.

Motu walked eastward at a moderate pace, his shadow trailing behind him, stretched long by the morning light.

Behind him, a muffled voice came from inside the stone house:

"It's a promise."

Motu didn't answer, but he heard it.

------------

The journey from the outpost on the edge of the Dark Forest to the border of the Darkwater River Basin was much longer than Motu had anticipated.

The dragonman executive did not personally escort him, but simply pointed him in the right direction, and then a guide specifically in charge of this matter led him to the destination teleportation point.

Since his transmigration, he has lingered in the dense shade of the dark forest, where the trees block out the sunlight year-round, and moss and decaying leaves form the background of the earth, with even the wind carrying an ancient and oppressive atmosphere.

Now, stepping out of the outpost, the view suddenly opens up.

The stark, tree-lined walls have been replaced by endless wastelands, the greyish-purple sky stretches infinitely into the distance, and the undulating earth resembles the slumbering back of a giant beast.

Along the way, weathered boulders and withered weeds can be seen, and occasionally a flying wing sweeps across the sky, casting a long, narrow shadow.

Those were scouts from the Dragon's Nest Legion; their wings swept across the area, and even the wind seemed to bow down.

In the distance, the mountains are rugged, their peaks covered in snow all year round, and the outlines of nests carved from giant rocks can be vaguely seen.

That was the place where the true dragons of the dragon race resided, and the air was filled with the majesty and pressure of those in power. It was ancient, magnificent, and carried an indescribable sense of epic weight.

The dragon guide walked silently forward, his armor gleaming coldly in the twilight. He led Motu without a word, heading towards the teleportation array that stood atop the high ground.

Blue Dragon stepped onto it, and felt a slight sense of weightlessness as he arrived at the border of the Dark Water River Basin.

Motu stepped out of the specially constructed teleportation point, stopped, and looked ahead with his vertical pupils.

A wide river stretches across the horizon, its surface calm and its current slow, the afterglow of the setting sun casting a layer of shimmering gold on its surface.

On this side of the river are vast expanses of reeds, as tall as a person's head, rustling softly in the wind.

On the other side of the river are low hills, with a few stone buildings scattered on them, it is unclear whether they are outposts or residences.

On the edge of the reed marshes, on a high ground near the riverbank, several rows of stone houses are arranged in a staggered manner.

The stone house was six or seven meters high enough to accommodate dragons. The walls were made of grayish-blue stones, and the roof was covered with a straw mat woven from reeds.

A flag hangs at the entrance of the largest stone house.

Motu got closer and then he could see the pattern on the flag clearly.

The flag is dark blue, with the Dragon's Nest Legion's emblem embroidered in the upper left corner.

A giant blue dragon coiled up, holding lightning in its claws.

That is the image of Lady Olpessie, the Mother of Dragon's Nest.

Beside the dragon, there was a dark red rune mark.

A crescent moon, with a tower below it.

The crescent moon is red, the tower is black, the lines are simple, but every corner has a deliberate sharpness.

The mark of the Tower of Holy Blood.

Motu stared at the rune for a few seconds, then looked away and followed the guide toward the stone house camp.

The campsite was small; it was only a few hundred steps from one end to the other.

The guide led him through a row of barracks to an open space enclosed by a low wall.

There were already people waiting in the center of the open space.

It wasn't one person, it was a group of people.

Or rather, a group of dragons, dragonmen, and hybrids.

The person who met the guide at the camp was a middle-aged dragon man, wearing a faded gray robe and holding a wooden staff.

He saw Motu walk over, tap the ground twice with his cane, gesture towards the open space, and call out:

"The newcomer, Blue Dragon Frostborn, is named Motu."

Tier 1, Black Iron Body. Has approximately 30% dragon blood concentration. Will be with you from now on.

Then he left. He didn't look back, and walked quickly, as if he was in a hurry to do something else.

Motu stood at the edge of the open space, looking at his teammates in front of him.

The first thing that catches the eye is a person.

No, not entirely human.

He has dragon-like features, with vertical pupils and tiny scales on his fingertips, but his overall outline is closer to that of a human.

The man was tall and wore a dark red robe with silver runes embroidered on the hem, exactly the same as the runes on the robe of the gray-eyed wizard that Motu had seen in the Dark Forest.

His face was delicate, even handsome, but his expression was as cold as if he were wearing a mask.

The silver-gray vertical pupils swept over Motu without any ripples, then withdrew its gaze and looked at the distant river.

He held a short staff in his hand, the head of which was inlaid with a dark red crystal core.

Flame-like light flowed inside the crystal core, somewhat similar to the red dragon crystal core that Motu had previously devoured, but it was purer and more stable.

Before Motu could take a closer look, the second person had already walked up to him.

The woman, also a human being, appeared to be a few years older than the aloof man, and wore a dark blue robe.

Unlike the dark red of the Tower of Holy Blood, the hem of the robe was also embroidered with runes, only the runes were silver-white.

Compared to the first person, her temperament was much gentler, with a slight smile on her lips. Her vertical pupils were dark brown, and there was no indifference in them, only a lazy, casual feeling, as if she had just woken up.

She held something smoking in her hand—not a candle, not a torch, but a thin stick made of rolled dry grass leaves, one end of which was red-hot and emitting grayish-white smoke.

She put it in her mouth, took a drag, then exhaled a puff of smoke, and said with a smile:

"Welcome, welcome! Another capable fighter here, huh?"

Motu didn't recognize what it was, but it had a strong, pungent smell, like burnt grass.

Before he could answer, the third "person" had already rushed in front of him.

not human.

It is a dragon.

A dragon covered in dark green scales, slightly smaller than Motu, but no less imposing.

Her neck was twice as long as that of ordinary dragons, like a snake standing upright, with several bulges faintly visible on her neck, as if something was about to crawl out from inside.

The most striking feature is her tail, which forks into three branches, each with a white, needle-like bony spur at the end.

Her vertical pupils were emerald green, filled with a belligerent light, and her dragon-like fangs bared, revealing an expression that was both a smile and a threat.

"New here!"

Her voice was so loud that it made Motu's eardrums buzz.

"My name is Green Tile! A hybrid of a hydra and a green dragon. What's your name?"

"Motu," Blue Dragon answered honestly.

"Motu?"

She chewed on those three words in her mouth.

"The name is short. Okay, I'll remember it!"

As she was speaking, she stretched out her paw and patted Motu's chest.

With a loud snap, the force was considerable, but Motu's scales remained completely still.

Green Tile's eyes lit up: "Wow, it's pretty hard!"

The fourth member huddled in a corner of the open space.

It was a female dragon-human, very small, about the same height as a human.

Her scales were dark gray, not a shiny gray, but a dusty, inconspicuous gray.

She shrank back there, her vertical pupils lowered, and timidly looked at the blue dragon along with the crowd.

But the moment the blue dragon looked back, it hurriedly looked away, like a startled rabbit.

Her name is Oona Underwood.

Motu only found out later.

She just huddled there, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she said nothing.

The fifth member, a male dragon, stood not far from Una.

He was a size larger than Una, with grayish-brown scales and a scar on his face that ran diagonally from his forehead to the corner of his mouth.

He stood there, arms crossed, expressionless, like a wooden stake standing on the ground.

"Inigo Valentine".

Green Tile pointed at the person with the tip of its tail, its tone full of disdain.

"Ignore him, he's just there to make up the numbers."

Inigo didn't react at all. He didn't even glance at the green tiles.

Lanlong looked at each of these people as they were introduced, silently memorizing them in his mind.

The five people in front of him were the personnel of the so-called Seventh Mixed Defense Team, and they would be his teammates in the future.