Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

"roar--!!!!!"

It wasn't an angry roar, it was a scream of agony.

Suporfranmo's massive body was struck head-on by a battering ram, and the entire dragon was sent flying more than ten meters away, its wings flapping wildly as it barely managed to regain its footing.

Its left cheek was swollen in an extremely comical yet extremely pitiful manner, with blood flowing down the gaps in the scales of its mouth and jaw.

A broken tooth flew out of its mouth, spun a few times in the air, and then stuck diagonally into the scorching obsidian ground in the distance.

The tooth roots were still streaked with blood and bits of flesh.

The Fire Dragon King covered its cheek with its dragon claws, a gesture that made it look both ridiculous and pathetic, but it was completely unaware of it.

He stared intently at the gray-robed figure that had fallen back to its original spot on the ground, a strange emotion appearing in his pupils for the first time—

That wasn't anger; anger is all too familiar.

That was... surprise and doubt.

"...What are you?"

His voice was no longer booming; it was even a little hoarse.

Having lived for nearly five hundred years, it has witnessed landslides, earth fissures, and even the ancient dragon race leveling mountains in the battle of the true dragon kings.

But it had never seen anyone like this before: two legs, no wings, no magical energy emanating from its body, yet it had sent this ancient red dragon flying with just one punch.

They even broke his teeth.

This can't be explained by "great strength" anymore; logically speaking, it's impossible.

The man in the gray robe did not answer.

In fact, from the moment he appeared until now, he has not uttered any meaningful sound. There was no battle cry, no curse, and even his breathing was barely audible.

He just looked down at his fists.

The fist was covered in bronze-colored scales, and now there were a few barely noticeable cracks along the edges of the scales, from which a tiny bit of blood seeped out.

He seemed to be thinking, or perhaps... not quite satisfied.

What are you unhappy about? Are you unhappy that this punch didn't kill the opponent outright?

Suporfranmo felt a chill run down his spine.

Having lived for nearly five hundred years, this was the first time it had been forced to have such a thought by a "little thing" smaller than its paw.

Then, the gray-robed man moved.

It was not an attack.

He took a deep breath, and his body sank slightly.

Immediately afterwards—

His body began to swell.

It wasn't the smooth transformation of magic; it was more like a spring that had been compressed to its limit suddenly releasing.

The bones extend under the skin, muscle fibers are layered, and bronze scales emerge from deep within the skin, covering an increasingly larger and thicker area.

Three meters, four meters, five meters...

Six meters, eight meters, ten meters!

In just a few breaths, he—or rather, "it"—had transformed into a colossal creature ten meters tall.

The grey robe and mask were enchanted equipment, and as the body stretched and extended, they remained firmly attached to this giant's body.

The pure white mask was still the same pure white mask, and the dark golden pupils were still the same dark golden pupils.

At this moment, however, the proportions between those pupils and the mask were completely unlike those of a human.

That was a monster.

Even the ancient red dragon, which had lived for nearly five hundred years, had to admit that the thing in front of it was no longer within its understanding of "living things".

"Monster... what exactly are you?"

Suporfranmo didn't realize he was repeating the same phrase again.

It instinctively lowered its body, its wing membranes slightly retracted, and entered a defensive posture that it would never admit to.

The man in the gray robe still did not answer; he was unable to speak, or perhaps he simply did not want to.

But he knew in his heart that his code name was Number 6, not his real name.

Race: [Bronze Dragon Elephant].

Level: 55.

Mission: Capture several live fire dragons and several dragon eggs.

Deadline: As soon as possible.

Method: Unlimited.

Anyone who tries to stop me will be beaten up.

What now stands in our way is this level 48 ancient red dragon, and behind it, the entire volcanic dragon nest.

The gray-robed man—Number 6—slowly assumed a very simple starting stance, nothing fancy, as he prepared to continue his mission.

The battle that followed was surprisingly easy.

The Fire Dragon King Suborflame was indeed both surprised and furious.

He had lived for hundreds of years, and this was the first time he had ever been punched in the face by a guy who couldn't even speak, and had his teeth knocked out.

The pain is one thing, the embarrassment is another.

But it is, after all, the Red Dragon, the undisputed master of this volcano. The Dragon King has the dignity of a Dragon King, and he cannot swallow this insult.

"No matter where you're from, you monster—die here!"

It took a deep breath, and what ignited deep in its throat was not an ordinary flame, but a scorching heat that was almost incandescent.

This time it wasn't a breath; it was the release of decades of pent-up anger from its chest, burning it into flames.

The flame was more than three times thicker than before, and its color changed from orange-red to golden yellow, with even a bluish-white tinge at the edges.

This is Red Dragon's trump card, which it doesn't usually use because it needs a long recovery period afterward, but it can't afford to worry about that now.

The flames poured onto the ground like a flood bursting its banks.

Wherever it passed, the obsidian vaporized instantly, leaving only a scorched ravine before it could even turn into magma.

however--

Number 6 did not hide.

He didn't even slow down.

The flames instantly burned his gray robe and mask to ashes, leaving not even a trace.

This thing was indeed made casually by Leylin, using very little material and with perfunctory enchantment. It was originally just a uniform for his subordinates to wear, and he never considered that it would be used to withstand the fire of the red dragon.

But beneath the robe was genuine leather, number 6.

The bronze-colored scales remained motionless in the flames, only the surface was covered with a layer of black ash, like an iron pot that had been heated for a long time.

He wiped the dust off his face, revealing a pair of dark golden eyes, and that—how should I put it—face that didn't quite look human.

The Fire Dragon King saw it clearly.

Upon seeing this, the entire dragon froze.

The thing in front of me was indeed humanoid, with two legs, two arms, and an upright torso, but it had almost nothing about it that resembled a human.

The skin was long gone, replaced by dense, layered bronze dragon scales, each one as thick as the scraps of a shield.

The hands were not hands, but claws, with hooked fingers covered in scales, and nails like rock chisels. The feet were the same, and the head barely resembled the shape of an elephant.

But instead of tusks, two thick, backward-curving horns protrude, clearly a characteristic of a dragon.

And those eyes... dark gold vertical pupils.

This is the dragon's eye.

"You..." The flames in the Fire Dragon King's throat died down, his voice tightening, "Which true dragon king created this monster?"

Number 6 didn't answer. He's not good with words, or maybe he just felt there was no need to explain to his defeated opponent.

He simply looked up, facing the still-spitting pillar of fire, and began to walk forward.

step.

Two steps.

The flames burned on his chest, like waves splashing onto rocks, spreading and dissipating, leaving the rocks unmoved.

It seemed that the flames had no effect on him.