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

Upon arriving near the rocky outcrop, the terrain suddenly breaks apart.

Huge, grayish-white rocks stand on the ground like tombstones, some reaching several meters in height, their surfaces covered with weathered holes, as if hollowed out from the inside by something.

The wind howled as it passed through the holes, like the wailing of the dead.

The ground was cracked with countless fissures, some as narrow as a knife's edge, others as wide as ten feet, and some bottomless. Glowing moss grew in the fissures, gleaming with a faint green light in the dim light, making the whole area look like a ruin sunken underground.

This is the rocky hill.

Motu and Shark White encountered the kobolds here before.

The kobold is nowhere to be found right now.

The white shark searched aimlessly in the rocky area, sniffing here and there, its tail slapping loudly against the rocks.

It searched for a long time, then suddenly stopped, its three serrated edges splitting open, and shouted at Motu:

"Over here! I smell that stench!"

The "stinky smell" it referred to was the stench of kobolds, a mixture of sweat, rotting flesh, and sulfur.

The smell lingered in the air of the rocky hill for three days without dissipating, as if that thing had drawn a line on this land with its scent.

This is mine, and nobody is allowed in.

Unfortunately, these territorial measures could not stop the intruders who came specifically for this purpose. Shark continued to follow the scent, turning and twisting, and finally stopped in front of the ruins of a collapsed stone tower.

"Here it is! I think I've found its nest!!"

It let out an excited shout, its tail swishing loudly.

The kobolds' lair is located in the ruins of this collapsed stone tower.

The stone tower was built in an unknown year and month. Now, only a dilapidated base and half a crumbling wall remain. The runes carved on the wall have long been worn away by wind and rain, leaving only some blurry dents.

The kobolds haphazardly piled up rubble and dirt on the ruins to build a low, crooked shack that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

The entrance was piled with gnawed bones, stinking fur, and a bunch of junk that I couldn't name; the stench could be smelled from a great distance.

The white shark swaggered out from among the rocks, its tail slapping loudly, all three layers of serrated teeth bared, its vertical pupils filled with excitement.

It deliberately stomped its feet heavily, leaving deep claw marks on the gravel with each step, its silvery-white scales gleaming coldly in the glow of the dark green moss.

"You bastard! Come out and face your death!"

Its sound echoed over the rocky hills, startling a flock of gray bats that were nestling in the crevices of the rocks.

The bats fluttered out, creating a chaotic mess in the sky, chirping as they disappeared into the distant rock crevices.

A clattering sound came from inside the shack, something was knocked over, followed by rustling footsteps, and then a small figure emerged from inside.

It was the dragonborn kobolds they had dealt with before.

It is about 1.2 meters tall, walks upright, has a lizard-like head, and two rows of sharp teeth protrude from its short snout, with bits of meat left over from who-knows-when still hanging between its teeth.

The Dragonborn kobolds have dark red skin, like burnt clay, and a row of tiny horny protrusions along their backs, extending from the top of their heads to their tails.

That was the outward manifestation of the high concentration of red dragon blood in its body, gleaming with a faint dark red glow in the dim light.

Unlike the last time I encountered him in the wild, this time the kobold was carrying a mining pickaxe on his waist, which was quite eye-catching.

The pickaxe was longer than its entire body, and the iron pickaxe head was the size of a human head. The blade was severely worn but still sharp, and it gleamed with a dark metallic luster in the dim light.

The wooden handle was wrapped in blackened animal hide, and crooked runes were engraved on the pickaxe.

Motu didn't recognize those runes, but he could sense a very faint magical fluctuation attached to them.

This is no ordinary pickaxe; it's certainly not something a kobold could forge on its own.

When Shark White saw the Dragonborn kobolds emerge, a hint of mockery flashed in his vertical pupils.

It deliberately straightened its body, showing off its increased size and height due to its advancement to the next level, its three layers of serrated teeth splitting open, and then it said venomously:

"Hey bro! I haven't seen you in seven or eight days and you seem to have gotten shorter! You shorty!"

As it spoke, it took two steps forward, looking down at the kobold.

The kobolds were already small, only the size of gnolls, and shorter than the mudbloods, making the contrast even more obvious now.

Shark White stood upright before it, its silvery-white scales gleaming like pearls in the dim light, and the shadow cast by its broad shoulders and back almost completely covered the kobold.

The scene resembled a burly man squatting in front of a little red-skinned girl—the contrast was so stark it was almost comical.

The dragonborn kobold looked up at Sharkwhite, a hint of confusion flashing in its vertical pupils.

Its limited mind seemed unable to comprehend the mockery in the white dragon's words; it merely instinctively sensed the threat and emitted a low gurgling sound from its throat, like an engine warming up before starting.

Shark White, however, paid little attention to this show of ferocity.

It lowered its head, looking down at the kobold, its vertical pupils full of mockery. Its gaze slid from the kobold's head to its shoulders, from its shoulders to its waist, and finally landed on the pickaxe, its eyes lighting up.

"You even have a little shovel!"

It stretched out its paw and pointed to the pickaxe at the kobold's waist.

"Where did you find this thing?"

You've already run off to the Dark Forest, and you're still thinking about mining!

"A leopard can't change its spots!"

It tilted its head, looked the pickaxe up and down, then glanced at the kobold's height, and grinned from ear to ear.

"Besides, this pickaxe is bigger than you, it's not suitable for you at all."

Give it to me!

As it spoke, it stretched out its claws, ready to snatch it.

When the kobold saw Shark White reach out to snatch the item, it was taken aback at first, then bared its teeth and let out a sharp hiss.

The sound was sharp and piercing, like iron scraping against a stone slab, bouncing back and forth between the rocky cliffs of the boulders.

It finally recognized the white dragon, and the blue dragon not far behind it.

It was the same opponent who had briefly clashed with it before and fled in defeat.

Although it was unclear why the white dragon had suddenly grown so large, a defeated opponent was still a defeated opponent, and the madness forcibly activated within the red dragon's bloodline made it forget its fear.

With that sharp screech, two pincers-nosed scorpions scurried out from the crack in the rocks behind the shack.

Each one is over half a meter long, completely black, and its shell is covered with fine cracks, like dried mud.

Two enormous pincers were raised high, and when they opened, serrated protrusions could be seen on the inside.

Its tail thorns curled up, and venom seeped from the tip, gleaming amber in the pale green light of the moss. Drop by drop, it fell onto the gravel, hissing and emitting white smoke.

The kobold drew his pickaxe from his waist, gripped the handle with both hands, and struck a strange pose with his short body.

A faint red glow emanated from the pickaxe.

That was a sign that the thick red dragon bloodline within its body had been activated; a scorching aura emanated from the pickaxe, even causing the surrounding air to distort slightly.

It bared its teeth, its vertical pupils filled with ferocity, and emitted a muffled roar from its throat.

Seeing this, Shark White was not afraid at all; instead, he laughed.

It was the smile of a predator facing the struggle and resistance of a weak prey.

The white dragon opened all three layers of its serrated teeth, and a deep gurgling sound came from deep in its throat. Its vertical pupils reflected the short figure of the kobold, as if it were looking at a piece of meat that was already in its mouth.

"Oh! You even have a henchman!"

Shark White's voice was slow and leisurely, with a cat-and-mouse-like ease.

"this one?"