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

Outside the Blackwood Market lies a desolate hilly area composed of weathered rocks and withered grass.

Gray rocks emerged from the withered grass, like scars on the earth. The wind blew from the north, carrying the stench of the swamp and the smoke of a distant market.

Matthew crouched in a crevice in the rock.

The hood covered most of his face, revealing only a section of his deformed, gray-green jaw and left eye.

The pupil of that eye had become an abnormal vertical pupil, and the whites of the eyes had an unhealthy yellow tinge that shone slightly in the dark.

His body pressed against the rock wall, and the deformed claws on his left arm unconsciously dug deep scratches into the ground, crushing the pebbles into powder under the claws.

Beneath the skin on the side of his neck, the metal spider embedded in his flesh was emitting a faint, cold light, constantly recording his heartbeat, blood pressure, magical fluctuations, and every wriggling movement of his mutated tissue.

Matthew knew that this data would eventually flow to his mentor Calder's laboratory, where it would be analyzed and archived to optimize the manufacturing process for the next batch of rune cards.

Or... to provide valuable reference for other experimental subjects.

But he no longer cared.

After successfully advancing to the rank of High Wizard Apprentice and barely managing to stabilize the spread of the aberration, his mentor Calder had told him:

"Now you can do some things you like."

The tone was casual, as if dismissing a tool that had completed its task as a way to rest.

To be honest, Matthew wasn't too bothered by the disdain in his mentor's tone. The wizarding world had a clear hierarchy, and he was used to it.

But what about things you like?

Matthew walked out of the laboratory and stood in the corridor for a long time.

Then he went outside, walked around the college building, then went to the market, and walked around there again.

After wandering aimlessly outside like a ghost off track for several days, he suddenly realized that he had nothing to do.

Arnold died, by his own hand, taking with him his last remaining connection to the world of normal people.

Go back to the countryside for a visit?

He was no longer the boy who harbored dreams and wrote letters to call his cousin; the signs of distortion crept up from his collar to his jaw.

It can't be covered up, and there's no need to cover it up anymore.

Those familiar gazes are now replaced by fear and alienation, as if looking at a monster.

You got promoted?

Have they escaped the direct threat of being eliminated or sent to the experimental platform?

They even have a lot of time that they can freely control?

All of this becomes empty and meaningless after losing all goals, all attachments, and all sense of "human" identity.

He didn't even know what to fill this long period of time with.

He just walked, mechanically. When he got tired, he would squat in a corner until he was numb, then stand up and continue walking.

It wasn't until the third lap, or perhaps longer, that his steps stopped again at the edge of the market, his gaze sweeping over the bustling crowds that had nothing to do with him.

Two faces, as if forcibly dragged from the depths of his memory's mire, appeared clearly before his eyes—

One was the face of a dragon girl covered in dark gray scales, with her eyes always lowered, yet capable of unleashing terrifying power in an instant.

The other image shows a blue dragon's face covered in dark blue scales, with a cold and calm gaze, standing under a withered tree, its claws tightly gripping the piece of thunderwood that should have belonged to it.

It's them.

This thought, like a cold venom, instantly injected into his nearly numb nerves.

Yes, it's them!

If they hadn't gotten there first and taken that piece of thunderwood, why would he have chosen this dead end?

He didn't have to personally destroy Arno, he didn't have to endure the excruciating pain of promotion, and he didn't have to be implanted with monitoring devices like a living specimen.

There's no need to wake up every day and have the first thing on your mind be filled with fear, checking to see if the deformity has spread to your right cheek...

I deserve a much brighter future!

"Sizzle—!"

The deformed claws lashed out, leaving five deep, terrifying claw marks on the hard rock wall beside it!

Gravel flew everywhere.

Matthew stared at the fresh, violent claw marks.

The dark emotions that had been building up in his chest for so long, mixed with pain, humiliation, despair and destructive desire, seemed to have found a clear and concrete outlet to pour out.

This is no longer just simple revenge.

This is more like a proof.

To prove something to myself, and to this cold world.

He has come to this point, becoming this inhuman and ghostly state, not because of his incompetence.

It was because someone blocked his path and robbed him of his only remaining possibility of becoming "normal"!

Just then—

On the distant horizon, a small, dark blue dot was rapidly approaching in this direction.

Matthew's mutated vertical pupils suddenly contracted!

Under the sunlight, its deep blue scales, like the ice of the deep sea, reflected a cold luster, and its broad wings drew smooth and powerful arcs below the thin clouds.

It's that blue dragon.

This time, he was not accompanied by the strange dragon girl, but only by himself.

"Good...very good."

Matthew's deformed left claw dug deep into the rock beneath him once more, crushing and breaking more pebbles.

He slowly grinned, revealing a silent smile that was a mixture of chilling murderous intent and twisted pleasure.

The prey that had been waiting for so long finally appeared.

----------

In the border defense squad camp, Motu flapped his wings alone and flew towards the northern Youshui Swamp.

The Dragonblood Wand, which was intended to verify the enhancement of combat power, was not held externally, but was swallowed into his specialized stomach through adaptive assembly characteristics.

At this moment, it is quietly suspended inside the body.

The dark red dragon blood patterns on the staff flickered slightly in sync with the rhythm of his breathing and the tide of magic within his body, within his stomach.

Like a coordinating organ deeply embedded in his body, possessing highly efficient energy amplification, it resonates perfectly with his own bloodline and magical circulation.

Meanwhile, in the sea of ​​consciousness, the progress bar for the [Bronze Blood] quest floated silently.

[Current Quest Progress: Slay twenty Tier 1 magical beasts and absorb their magical core power (0/20)]

The Darkwater Swamp, which Motu flew to this time, is the ideal hunting ground to complete this mission. It is a wetland that has bred countless monsters.

Advancing to the second tier is imminent.

The holy spear of the gray-armored holy knight, capable of piercing through everything; the claws of the mutated wizard Matthew, capable of tearing through scales...

The memories of being suppressed twice by absolute power are like a red-hot branding iron, burning deep into the soul of the blue dragon.

He absolutely refused to go through that a third time.

This trip is both a hunt and a test.

To see just how much this dragon blood magic wand, deeply hidden within him and crafted with painstaking effort, can enhance his combat abilities.

In search of prey, he deliberately lowered his flight altitude, his wingtips almost brushing against the canopy of the sparse woodland below.

The airflow generated by the high-speed flight left two fleeting white vortices behind it.

The blue dragon's magical perception is like an invisible radar, constantly scanning an area of ​​several hundred meters in radius, capturing any abnormal magical fluctuations or first-tier life forms.