Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

This volcano is a forbidden area in the eyes of outsiders, but in the eyes of the strong, it is a very clear ladder of strength.

Let's start with the two-legged fire dragon at the very bottom.

These sub-dragons, once they reach adulthood, will consistently have a racial level of around 20.

What does level 20 mean?

To put it another way, an ordinary human being, if they don't join the military or take risks, will only reach level 1 by the time they die; they'll just be an ordinary person who eats and sleeps.

Even if you join the army and train hard your whole life, most soldiers will only stay at around level 10, not even qualified to trim the feet of an adult two-legged fire dragon.

Even those orcs who are naturally strong, adult orc warriors are only around level 10 on average, and they would still be roasted alive if they encountered a two-legged fire dragon.

Want to easily kill a fully grown bipedal fire dragon in a one-on-one fight? The human side would need to send out at least a level 25 or higher expert.

What does level 25 mean? It's something that might only happen to one in a million people. It's a powerful being who can be written into epics and sung about by bards.

If a small country has such a strong leader, its borders can be peaceful for thirty years.

And what about the two-legged fire dragon? It doesn't need talent, it doesn't need arduous training, it doesn't need to risk its life. As long as it doesn't starve to death and lives to adulthood, it will automatically be level 20.

What's even more deadly is that there are hundreds of these sub-dragons on this volcano, hundreds of which are super strong monsters even when they grow up.

If they were to swarm out, they could easily raze a kingdom's border town to the ground, or even wipe out a small country with a small population.

And all of the above are just the bottom of this volcanic food chain.

The true ruler is the red dragon.

The red dragon's racial potential is a whole level higher than that of the yak dragon.

A fully grown red dragon naturally possesses the strength of level 30.

This level, in the human world, already belongs to the "hero realm"—not just a "potential hero," but a genuine, living legend.

One in a million humans might become a level 25 powerhouse, while a level 30 being might not even appear once in a generation, whereas a red dragon is one when it reaches adulthood.

Moreover, they don't die of old age; they only get stronger. Red dragons that live to old age steadily reach level 40 in strength.

Level 40 is the threshold for "abnormal individuals".

The phrase "abnormal person" can be translated into plain language as: someone who is no longer considered human.

There have been very few unparalleled experts in human history who have reached this level. Such a person may only appear once every few hundred years, and when they do, they can change the landscape of an era.

As long as the red dragon lives long enough, it will automatically enter the realm.

Further up, the Elder stage ranges from level 41 to 45, and the Ancient stage ranges from level 46 to 50.

The physiological limit of the human race is probably capped at level 42. It's not a matter of talent, but rather that the upper limit of the "human" physical body is fixed there.

To surpass level 42, you first need to stop being human. Red dragons don't need to be human; they can just be dragons.

And the one hovering above the gray-robed man's head, whose wingspan blotted out the sun—the Fire Dragon King Suborflamo Ucanno—had reached the peak of the Ancient Era.

Level: 48.

In a world where the vast majority of humans can't even break through level 10, level 48 isn't some kind of "strongman" or "hero"; it's a natural disaster.

In theory, no human being, not even an army, could defeat it head-on.

To say that one could survive its wrath would be considered a miracle, as if one's ancestors had blessed it with good fortune.

So, instead of running away or begging for mercy, the gray-robed man raised his hand and extended his index finger towards the ancient red dragon, which was at level forty-eight.

In the civilization of any intelligent being, this action means roughly the same thing: Come here.

Instead of being angry, Suporfranmo laughed.

Having lived for nearly five hundred years, this was the first time he had ever seen a fool so eager to turn into charcoal.

"Die."

It opened its enormous mouth.

Dragon's breath isn't just ordinary fire-breathing; that's what fireplaces and roasted jerky do.

The red dragon's breath releases the pent-up liquid flames within its chest, reaching temperatures so high that even rocks melt instantly upon contact, bypassing the heating process.

The obsidian ground at the foot of the volcano is known for its heat resistance, but under the scouring of dragon's breath, the hard obsidian is like ice meeting a red-hot iron rod.

The obsidian melted rapidly, collapsing into a pool of boiling lava.

The man in the gray robe moved.

He didn't fly, nor did he use any magical fluctuations.

He simply relied on his legs, a single kick.

The ground exploded.

That speed can no longer be described as "fast".

The red dragon's breath covered an extremely wide area, sweeping across everything like a firestorm, yet the gray-robed man's afterimage managed to pass through just before the sea of ​​fire closed in.

Lava exploded behind his feet, but he had already landed on another intact obsidian pillar.

"Hmm?" Suborfranmo narrowed his dragon eyes.

Few creatures can escape its dragon breath.

It's one of the few creatures that can dodge an attack without any preparation, relying solely on its physical speed. It's been almost five hundred years, and you can count them on one hand.

This guy in the gray robe is something.

—But only a little.

The red dragon adjusted its angle, and flames ignited once more deep within its throat.

This time it wasn't a single breath attack, but a continuous barrage, like a moving celestial fire plundering the earth.

It wanted to force this cunning insect off the stone pillar and into the lava to see how long it could keep jumping around.

The lava lake expanded and expanded, large sections of the obsidian ground collapsed, and the air was baked so hot that it was distorted and deformed, and even breathing felt like sucking on razor blades.

The man in the gray robe finally landed.

He didn't land on his own; he had something else with him.

It was a two-legged fire dragon that had been knocked unconscious, its body charred black, and it hadn't woken up yet.

The gray-robed man grabbed its tail, like grasping a rope, and then—

甩。

A level 20, several-ton dragon flew out of his hand.

That wasn't a "throwing" motion.

That was the hammer thrower's final burst of energy, the catapult's release after being stretched to its limit.

The two-legged fire dragon's body made a dull whistling sound as it hurtled through the air, like a meteorite being launched, crashing straight into the red dragon in the sky.

Suborfranmo scoffed dismissively.

Suporfranmo flicked his tail casually, as if swatting away an annoying fly.

"Bang!"

The multi-ton dragon was whipped away by a tail, rolling and crashing into a distant mountain wall, creating a cloud of rubble and dust.

A trivial skill.

—But Suporfranmo sensed something was wrong out of the corner of his eye.

The angle at which the dragon flew over perfectly blocked its view to its right front.

And at the very moment it whipped its tail and knocked away the "cannonball"—

A figure burst out from the blind spot in the direction the dragon was thrown.

One step landed on the back of the flying dragon, the second step pushed off the air—no, it wasn't air, it was the sound barrier that was shattered by the explosive power of his legs.

The man in the gray robe leaped into the air.

It is level with the dragon's head.

Fifty meters.

He leaped fifty meters into the air from a standstill, without using any magic or flying devices, relying solely on his two legs.

Suporfranmo's amber-colored vertical pupils suddenly contracted.

"What?!?"

The man in the gray robe did not answer.

He simply threw a punch, facing the dragon's mouth, large enough to swallow him whole, and the row of gleaming, steel-crushing dragon teeth.

Dragon Fang clashed with fist.

Then--

The dragon's tooth shattered.