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

On the other side, Motu, who had returned to camp from the Blackwood Market several days ago, quietly laid his massive dragon body on the cold, specially made stone bed.

At this moment, the claw mark on his shoulder, which had been corroded by gray-green toxins, had basically healed thanks to the tenacious resistance of his lightning bloodline and the powerful self-healing ability of dragons.

Only a faint scar, slightly lighter in color than the surrounding scales, remained.

The animal skin bag containing the thunderwood, brought back from the Blackwood Market, was casually placed in a corner of the stone house.

The bag was slightly open, revealing a section of dark brown wood with silvery-white grain.

The blue dragon's golden vertical pupils were slightly distracted at this moment, its gaze not focused on the hard-won material.

Deep in his consciousness, the two images, like marks branded with a red-hot iron, repeatedly seared Motu's thoughts.

In the dark, swampy waters.

The pale golden spear of holy power pierced through Green Tile's chest with unstoppable force, bringing with it a cloud of dark red blood mist.

Her massive body froze in mid-air before plummeting like a bird with broken wings, leaving a gruesome hole in her chest, its front and back pierced and hissing with the embers of holy power.

Outside the Kuroki Market.

The deformed claws, covered in rough keratin and curved like hooks, tore through the dark blue scales on his shoulder, leaving a deep wound that exposed bone.

The grayish-green toxins, like cold, venomous snakes, burrowed deep into the torn flesh.

twice.

Within just a few days, he was twice brought to the brink of life and death by someone with overwhelming strength!

The first time, it was Green Tile who, with her almost reckless charge and powerful regenerated body, took the fatal blow of the Judgment Spear for him.

The second time, it was Una, who was usually timid and cowering, who unleashed incredible power in a desperate situation and completely repelled the danger.

And what about himself?

Besides crushing the [Beacon Stone] and anxiously waiting for rescue that might not arrive in time, what else could he do?

A chilling, needle-like anxiety suddenly gripped Motu's heart and quickly spread to his limbs and bones.

too weak.

This realization pierced Motu's heart more than the scar on his shoulder.

He must become stronger, he must increase his strength at an illogical speed!

In this perilous and power-driven border region, stagnation means that the next instance of helplessness could lead directly to death.

Right now, there is only one path before him that could bring about a qualitative leap in combat power.

Motu slowly closed his eyes, sinking his consciousness into that deep sea of ​​consciousness.

The core structure blueprint of the Dragon Blood Wand, emitting a constant, faint glow, floated silently in the darkness.

As he focused his mind, the blueprints unfolded, and the three-dimensional projection of the dark staff reappeared, rotating slowly and steadily.

Around the projection, rows of data representing performance increases lit up one by one, like stars:

[Magic conduction efficiency increased by 40%]

Casting speed increased by 30%.

[Exclusive Resonance for Lightning Spells]

Adaptive Assembly

These figures, signifying a significant enhancement of combat power, appear clear and enticing in the annotations of the blueprints.

However, blueprints are just blueprints, and data is just data.

Motu suddenly opened his eyes, his golden vertical pupils flashing a sharp light in the dim light.

He stood up, walked to the corner of the stone house, picked up the old animal skin bag, and dumped all its contents onto the cold stone bed.

Dragon Blood Crystal, Rune Carving Knife, Thunderwood, Thunder Crystal Core, Silver Thread.

He arranged the five materials neatly in a row.

The dragon blood crystal gleamed with a dark red luster under the light. The blade of the rune carving knife was so thin that it was almost transparent. The silvery-white texture of the thunderwood looked like the marks left by lightning. The surface of the lightning crystal core had fine cracks, and electric arcs occasionally flashed. Silver lines coiled in a circle on the tray, gleaming with a cold metallic luster.

Only one last thing is missing.

The active regenerating blood of the Dragon Blood species.

Motu stared at the row of materials for a long time. His eyes were calm, but like an undercurrent surging beneath the frozen surface of a lake.

After a moment, having made his decision, he no longer hesitated.

He turned around, took a step, and walked out of the stone house.

--------

At the edge of the camp, next to that flat black stone that the green-tiled roof has used as its exclusive sunbathing seat.

Green Tile is squatting on the ground, angrily dealing with a strangely shaped object.

The thing was about half the height of an adult and shaped like a flattened earthenware jar.

It has a large belly and a small mouth, or rather, it looks like an extra-large gourd that has been flattened.

This object is not made of ordinary clay; its surface has a delicate grayish-white color, and it is hard in texture. It is covered with fine and regular rune patterns, showing obvious characteristics of alchemical artifacts.

At this moment, it stands firmly in front of the green tiles, like a silent and stubborn problem.

Green Tile was tapping the jar wall from side to side with her sharp claws, a hint of impatience in her voice, while muttering indistinct complaints.

Clearly, they've been struggling with this thing for quite some time.

Motu walked to her side and squatted down.

"What is this?" He examined the strange object.

"Monkey Pot".

Green Tile didn't even look up, his tone clearly showing his annoyance.

"It was given to me by Akino. Now, it's broken."

As she spoke, she stretched out her claws and ripped open the wooden lid that was tightly fastened to the slender neck.

"puff--"

A mixture of over-fermented sourness, the pungent smell of spoiled alcohol, and the unique sweet and musty odor of some kind of mold, like a long-brewing poison gas, suddenly burst forth from the spout!

The aroma wafted out, and Motu subconsciously tilted his head, his nostrils twitching slightly.

The taste was extremely complex and unpleasant.

Suppressing his nausea, he glanced into the pot.

A thick, fuzzy, grayish-white mold film floats on the surface of the murky, dark yellow liquid at the bottom.

Several pieces of fruit peel remnants, not yet completely rotten and of a strange color, were still stuck to the edges of the pot.

The liquid in the container looked like some kind of utterly failed bacterial culture.

"It was originally a good treasure, capable of brewing wine."

Green Tile's tone was full of resentment.

"Any kind of fruit, sweet, sour, astringent, even those misshapen and cracked fruits picked up from the reed marshes outside."

Just throw it in, cover it, and the next day it will surely turn into a fragrant, warming fruit wine!

result--"

She tapped the side of the pot again with a thud, the sound muffled.

"Everything was fine a few days ago! I was stuffing it with all sorts of fruits I picked from the forest every day, and I was drinking fresh fruit wine every day! And then—"

She angrily knocked a second time, this time with more force.

"Bang! Suddenly it stopped working! All that came out was this sour, smelly, and moldy dirty water!"

The third strike was louder, carrying a sense of venting.

"Akino has gone on another mission and disappeared without a trace. Who knows when he'll be back!"

I spent several days trying to fix it myself, but I still can't figure out what's wrong with it!

At this point, Green Tile angrily flicked her distinctive forked tail, kicking up a small cloud of dust.