Brass Dragons in the Dragon World

Within Angers' body, the golden-red bloodline, like a horse with needles, a dog with increased speed, or a spearman spinning, slicing through melons and vegetables, breaking through the blockade of the dark red bloodline with overwhelming force, dancing unrestrainedly in the enemy's fountain, celebrating its victory.

The dark red bloodline, weakened by Angers' coma, was already exhausted and powerless to fight. Just when they were about to be defeated, a miracle occurred.

The dark red bloodline gazed at the golden-red army wreaking havoc in its homeland and comprehended six words:

"If you can't beat them, join them."

As if they possessed a spirit, they began to tentatively merge with another bloodline. In reality, both the true dragon bloodline of the brass dragon Ander and the dragon bloodlines in the dragon world possessed extremely strong inclusiveness, but also extremely strong exclusivity.

To put it simply, these bloodlines are like a heartless scumbag who's willing to sleep with anyone, the only requirement being that he has to be on top.

Now that the true dragon bloodline and the dragon bloodline have determined the victor and the attacker and receiver, it's time to enter the sweet construction phase.

Led by the traitorous dragon bloodline, the true dragon bloodline moved with impunity, altering Angers' body at will: repairing wounds, adding structures, replenishing organs, regenerating skin...

Using its original charred skin as a cocoon, a new Angers is being reborn within it.

The future S-class dragon slayer, with the help of Ander, is about to embark on an unprecedented path.

Meanwhile, Ander was still completely unaware of what was happening to Angers. The large amount of dragon blood flowing out made him feel weak, and he kept complaining. However, out of curiosity and a sense of responsibility, Ander did not stop converting the magic circle.

"Oh no, oh no, I'm going to die! I told you not to donate 400cc, I'm going to faint... but I haven't fainted yet!"

"Once this guy wakes up, I'll send him to the US to speculate on real estate, make a fortune, and then make him the president of the US, using the resources of the US to win over Andrew."

"At least two sheep a day, the tenderest lambs, one on a gold bed, one on a jeweled bed, we sleep in them alternately; Renaissance sculptures, I buy one, I throw one away..."

Just as Ander felt he was about to faint from blood loss, the suction force from the magic circle finally stopped.

"Is your face made of gold, or your inner self? Are you torturing the dragon?"

Ander complained, reaching out to tap Angers' charred skin with his finger, only to find that the charred skin cracked under the tapping, revealing a humanoid creature inside.

"Hey, it's a boiled egg, and it's peeled."

Inside the charred shell, a young white man was asleep. His hair and eyebrows had long since turned to ash in the fire, leaving only his round, white head exposed, looking like a peeled boiled egg.

"He looks pretty handsome, kind of like that guy, what was the name of the main character in Titanic again? Jack Corleone?"

Ender hadn't seen a movie in a hundred years, but that didn't stop him from reminiscing about the old films he'd seen when he was a human.

Just then, the sleeping man suddenly opened his eyes, revealing a pair of dark golden dragon eyes filled with anger and hatred.

The next second, like a poorly edited online movie, the man suddenly appeared on Ander's neck, opened his mouth, revealed white teeth, and bit down hard.

Ander didn't react for a moment, but he soon realized that both the punches and the bites were so powerless, like a baby's sucking or a lover's caress.

The blood-based contract prevented the servants from harming their master, turning Angers' furious attacks into a light drizzle.

"Uh, have you licked enough? As a male dragon, I still prefer doing this with women."

The atmosphere suddenly became awkward...

Chapter Five: Chat Time

Ander hadn't expected that this human, who had been resurrected from the brink of death, would regain his senses the moment the ritual was completed, and even attack him, his master, without any restraint. If it weren't for the bloodline contract binding him, he probably would have torn a piece of flesh from Ander's neck.

"Stop it, don't waste your energy."

While speaking, the brass dragon's nimble tail was not idle; it coiled tightly around its new kin like a snake, enveloping him completely, making it impossible for him to break free.

Ander took a deep breath, his chest bulging, and yellow gas spewed from his mouth—hypnotic breath, the signature skill of the brass dragon.

Angers had just recovered from his slumber and was completely unable to resist the attack of the hypnotic gas. He immediately fell into a coma after inhaling some of the gas.

"This person definitely has a story to tell, and speaking of stories, it's time for the most exciting part of the chat!"

Ander grinned, somewhat smugly, knowing he had been holding back for so long and was finally going to find out what had happened in the world.

When Angers awoke again, he found himself half-buried in a rock, which enveloped his body like soft mud, leaving only his upper body exposed and rendering him unable to move.

Beside him was a man with an Asian face, and in front of the man was a huge wooden barbecue grill with a freshly slaughtered doe skewered on it, the crackling of the firewood emitting an enticing aroma of meat.

"I just went hunting, and it is the host's duty to prepare food and drinks for the guests we are chatting with."

Angers didn't consider himself a guest; he looked more like a prisoner or slave.

Ander looked at the man. It was clear that the transformation had been very successful; dragon scales had begun to appear on his chest, and his pupils had turned into dark gold vertical pupils similar to those of a brass dragon.

"Are you sober now? I have some food and wine here, would you like to chat?"

Ande tentatively placed the still-bloody roasted meat near Angers' mouth, completely ignoring that Angers was still bound to the rock.

But he soon discovered that the man was more stubborn than he had imagined; he just stared at him as if Ander were his father's killer.

"Don't get so angry. I'm a very kind person, and I even saved you."

"I love chatting, so tell me, what's your story?"

Angers was buried in the stones, with only his upper body and his bald head showing.

"Since you don't seem to talk much, perhaps we should start a conversation, like, what's your name?"

There was still no response. The man in front of him was like a religious fanatic about to die, staring at Ander with a contemptuous look, which made Ander very uncomfortable.

"My patience is limited. Have you ever heard of a spell called Charm?"

"You have a choice: do you want to tell me yourself, or do I have to force you?"

The man took a few deep breaths. He uttered a name in a hoarse, low voice:

Hilbert Jean Angers.

Ander's eyes lit up; being willing to talk meant being able to communicate.

"You must be a warrior. What kind of battles have you been through?"

Ander wanted to strike while the iron was hot and extract more information.

But this man was as hard as a rock, unwilling to reveal anything about the explosion except his own name.

As a brass dragon, Ender prefers to have the other party speak rather than use spells.

Seeing this, Ander used a little magic to reveal Angers' arm and handed him a sheepskin wine pouch.

Ender made distilled spirits to make money, but he soon discovered that the dwarves already had better things, so the spirits just stayed in his storage bag.

"Want to try some 'Mouth-Knockout Dragon'?"

The man in front of me, named Angers, didn't say a word. He just grabbed a piece of roasted meat with blood still on it and stuffed it into his mouth in big mouthfuls. He also drank a large bottle of strong liquor, which was almost at the concentration of medical alcohol.

A burning sensation came from his hot throat; only this pain could make him forget the previous suffering.

“My name is Hilbert Jean Angers, a born dragon slayer. Aren’t you afraid, little dragon?”

Ander was startled by this information; there were dragons here too. This was terrible news. Did he have to continue fighting the chromatic dragon?

"Stop acting all high and mighty and tell me more about the dragons here."

Anders forced himself to remain calm and spoke to Angers.

Angers was puzzled: "Aren't you a dragon? Whose son are you?"

“I know nothing of kings. I am a brass dragon, a kind brass dragon.”

Angers was bewildered by this inexplicable development. Could it be that there was a problem with the Secret Society's historical records, or that there were dragons unaware of the existence of the Four Kings?

However, Angers didn't want to reveal too much information about the Secret Party, so he could only naturally start talking about the myths and legends of the dragon world, from the Black King Nighold to Pangu creating the world, quite like the style of online novels padding out the word count.

As Ander listened to Angers recount the myths and legends of the dragon world, he compared the dragons in the story with those in books that he remembered. Soon, he realized he had entered a world that he vaguely recognized.

Back then, Ander was still a person. When he was in junior high school, a book called "Dragon Raja" became popular among his classmates. It told the story of how a useless person slayed a dragon.

I heard the story had a bad ending, and I wonder what happened to that good-for-nothing.

As he listened to Angers' increasingly absurd story, Ander closed his eyes and entered the palace of memories. Comparing the manuscript in his memory, Ander quickly realized that the man in front of him, who looked like a boiled egg, was actually the powerful principal of Kassel in the story: Angers.

If the timeline of the memories in the story is correct, then it should be 1900. At this time, the Day of Mourning event occurred, resulting in the death or injury of most of the Secret Society members, with only Angers surviving.

To gain more benefits in this world, one must stand on the side of humanity. Ender has no feelings for the dragons in this world; according to the novel, they cannot even be called "dragons."

Before him stood a chosen one, incapable of harming him, a half-breed with his own blood, yearning for revenge. At this moment, all he needed was a little help…

At this moment, Angers was still telling the myths about dragons, and he was almost at the time of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, talking about how dragons influenced people, and about the judgment on whether Fuxi was a hybrid.

Ander interrupted Angers' narration:

"Do you want revenge?"

"what?"

"The hatred in your eyes is overflowing. Do you want revenge?"

"I want to, but what would be the price?"

"Two hundred sheep, a bed made of pure gold, twenty pieces of wood carvings by master artists, and gemstones of various colors, each the size of a pigeon's egg..."

The scene of revenge, filled with bitterness and deep-seated hatred, was suddenly permeated with the stench of money.

Angers' lips twitched, and it took him a long time to process the information he had received before he stammered out a sentence.

"I'm going to slay the dragon..."

Ander, however, didn't care at all. Dragons themselves were the ones who did the most dragon-slaying.

"You've come to the right place to slay dragons. I'm a bronze dragon mercenary. Once you've used me, you'll know how good I am. One word: are you going to hire me or not?"

……

"It's a pleasure doing business with you..."

"Pleasant to cooperate"

Two greasy hands clasped together.

Chapter Six: There is Only One Kind of Dragon

In a clearing in the dense forest, a small banquet is underway. Although there are only two people, they are eating with the gusto of a thousand troops.

Angers, now freed from his restraints, is sitting cross-legged on the ground, tearing large mouthfuls of bloody roasted meat.

On the other side of the campfire, Ander took out the mead he had treasured in his spatial bag and savored his prized brew little by little. Compared to strong liquor, Ander preferred the sweeter mead, which wouldn't make him drunk but still satisfied his cravings.

As they drank and ate, their relationship seemed to have grown closer, and Ander spoke up without any hesitation: