In the midst of the fierce confrontation, the situation seemed to teeter on a delicate balance. Seratus, lacking sufficient combat experience, made fewer moves; whereas Agnas and Catilia, having clashed multiple times in previous battles, had accumulated a wealth of practical experience, making his attacks all the more ferocious.

  Agnas sneered, reveling in Seratus's retreating, disheveled state. He brandished his steel-like, razor-sharp dragon claws, each strike leaving deep, bone-exposing wounds on Seratus. The searing dragon breath, intertwined with sharp roars, hissed like a venomous serpent, relentlessly scorching Seratus's fragile nerves.

  "Hmph!" Agnas let out a disdainful snort from his nostrils, his crimson eyes filled with scorn and mockery. He looked down upon Seratus with a condescending gaze, his tone dripping with arrogance, "Your cowering demeanor is like a rat hiding in its burrow! All you do is feebly defend, not a trace of the wild spirit of a red dragon in you! Pitiful! I suggest you surrender now, lest you waste your strength and become a laughingstock!"

  Seeing Seratus still struggling to defend, Agnas curled his lips in disdain, his arrogance growing. He let out a piercing laugh, swinging his claws while taunting, "Look at your feeble defense! You can't even hide the wounds on my body! These scars are my badges of honor! If you had the strength to defeat me, wouldn't it be an insult to my royal blood?"

  The tension between them escalated. Agnas poured all his strength into attacking Seratus, each swipe of his claws leaving stinging marks on Seratus's skin. Seratus, on the other hand, continuously blocked with his claws and countered with his incomplete dragon breath. Their close-quarters combat resulted in the dull thuds of muscle and scales colliding, blood splattering across the battlefield, painting it in a macabre hue.

  Finally, in a moment of claw-crossing, Seratus keenly spotted a flaw in Agnas's defense. The power he had been accumulating erupted like a volcano! He launched a fierce counterattack, the dull thuds gradually fading, replaced by heavy gasps and the lingering scent of blood in the air. Seratus felt every inch of his scales burning in agony, his strength on the verge of collapse, but he clenched his teeth, his resolve to trade wounds for a chance to strike back burning ever brighter.

  He began to adjust his strategy, reining in his aggression, focusing on defense, and seeking openings in Agnas's attacks. Seratus carefully blocked each strike with his sturdy claws, conserving his strength and minimizing his injuries. As time passed, their battle turned into a tug-of-war. Agnas, growing increasingly agitated, swung his claws with more force but began to show signs of fatigue; Seratus, maintaining his defensive stance, waited for the slightest opening.

  In the over ten minutes of combat, the battlefield was littered with flesh and blood, their dragon blood mingling and splattering like crimson rain. Seratus noticed Agnas's body beginning to waver, and he knew the opportune moment was near. Despite the anger burning within him, Seratus suppressed his emotions, refusing to let rage cloud his judgment. He knew a true red dragon must maintain nobility and restraint, not lose composure over fleeting anger.

  After another fierce exchange, Agnas's attacks finally showed a hint of hesitation. Seratus's eyes gleamed as he seized the fleeting opportunity, the power he had been storing erupted like a volcano! He launched a desperate counterattack, grabbing the moment Agnas was exhausted. The sounds of intense combat gradually subsided, replaced by heavy breathing echoing in the cave, the air thick with the nauseating stench of blood. Seratus felt every inch of his scales as if they were being scorched by fire, the pain nearly numbing him. Thick blood and dragon blood pooled beneath him, forming a glaring puddle that trickled down the rough ground, each drop sounding like the toll of a death knell.

  At this moment, the pace of the battle slowed. Agnas, exhausted from the intense fight, began to falter, his once-arrogant attacks weakening, his body swaying unsteadily. Seratus clenched his fists, thinking to himself: As long as I hold on, I can wear him down, and victory will be mine. Yet, at this moment, the outcome remained uncertain, the battlefield still shrouded in a thick haze of blood and stubbornness.

  Seratus took a deep breath, his gaze resolute and determined. Though he refrained from mocking his opponent, the humiliation and his unwavering sense of dignity fueled his every strike with a determination to win. In this moment of blood and fire, he calmly reminded himself, "The best offense is defense, waiting for the moment his strength wanes."

  Finally, the battle reached a brief stalemate. Seratus and Agnas stared at each other, their bodies covered in wounds and blood, a testament to the heavy price each had paid. The air was thick with the silence and pain of their fierce struggle, only the sound of dripping dragon blood narrating their resolve and honor.

  In the battlefield of fire and blood, Seratus's eyes burned with determination. He seized the moment, launching a fierce counterattack. No longer caring about his wounds or the searing pain, his heart was filled only with anger toward his opponent and a steadfast pursuit of honor. He swung his claws, lunging fiercely at Agnas's weak points, a single strike sending Agnas crashing to the ground.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  As Agnas struggled to rise, Seratus swiftly executed a move akin to "Mount Tai Crushing"—he pressed his solid weight down on Agnas's chest, his claws tearing into Agnas's flesh like blades. Blood splattered as they grappled, both sides exhausting their last reserves of strength, their heavy breaths shaking the earth.

  After a fierce struggle, Seratus finally managed to pin Agnas to the ground. Gasping for air, Seratus felt the pain and exhaustion of the battle surging through him. He took deep breaths, replenishing the oxygen in his body. Agnas, lying on the ground, slowly opened his eyes, his heavy breaths punctuating his words, "Ah, my foolish brother, how does it feel to be the one lying on the ground now…" With that, he ceased his struggle, collapsing to the side, letting his exhaustion dissipate.

  Agnas, his unhealed wounds still oozing crimson dragon blood, declared arrogantly, "These mere wounds won't make me surrender! Once I recover, I'll fight you to the death!" His tone was filled with disdain and arrogance, sending a chill through any dragon who heard it.

  Listening to Agnas's words, Seratus understood—this battle, though leaving both sides scarred, had revealed Agnas's obsession with power and honor. Seratus felt a twinge of helplessness, knowing his own strength was still immature and his injuries numerous; a direct confrontation would only plunge him deeper into trouble. He silently resolved, "When you recover, and we clash again, that will be the true test of strength." Thus, he suppressed his anger, ceased his attack, and began to recuperate.

  After a brief rest, familiar, stern footsteps echoed from the cave's entrance. The Dragon Mother flew in, her gaze sweeping over the blood-soaked ground and scattered, broken scales. She emotionlessly tossed the fresh remains of hunted beasts aside, coldly remarking, "Weak whelps, your quarrels are both ridiculous and foolish." With that, she returned to her pile of priceless treasures and coins, settling back into slumber as if the young dragons' squabble was beneath her notice.

  Seratus looked at the bloodied battlefield, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He slowly made his way to a corner, joining Agnas and Catilia in feeding. The three young dragons silently gnawed on the remains of the beasts. Though the meat was coarse and far from delicious, after the prolonged battle, replenishing their energy was paramount. Initially repulsed by the raw meat, Seratus found his aversion fading as the pain of his wounds and his exhaustion took precedence, replaced by the urgent need for survival.

  Seeing the blood gushing from his own body and the wounds on Agnas, Seratus sighed: If it weren't for Catilia's earlier injury to Agnas, leaving him with some battle scars, I might not have been able to stand against him. Yet, Catilia had wisely conceded in the earlier fight, preserving much of her dignity and unscathed scales, leaving Seratus feeling a pang of disappointment and anger.

  At that moment, Agnas, filled with resentment, voraciously devoured the beast's remains, as if swallowing the entire creature would vent his fury. His hateful gaze occasionally flicked toward Seratus, thinking to himself, "If it weren't for the wounds you left, I would have crushed you long ago!" He intensified his feeding, tearing into the meat with increased ferocity, using the act to vent his dissatisfaction and envy toward Seratus.

  Facing all this, Agnas's heart was in turmoil. On one hand, he knew the battle had left him severely injured, his strength depleted; on the other, he felt disappointment and anger at his own reckless, arrogant behavior. But ultimately, he forced himself to calm down, knowing this battle was merely a trial, and true growth required more experience.

  Seratus, enduring the excruciating pain that spread across his body, mechanically lowered his head and continued tearing into the foul-smelling beast meat. Each bite tugged at his wounds, sending knife-like pain coursing through his limbs, but he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to swallow. He was acutely aware that this repulsive flesh was not just the price of the brutal fight but also his only means of healing and regaining strength in this merciless world. For survival, he had to endure, even if the taste was like chewing wax, nauseating.

  Agnas had ultimately been defeated by Seratus, and as a true red dragon, a fire of defiance burned within him. His icy gaze fixed on Seratus, who was also gnawing on the beast's remains. The sight of his less-experienced, somewhat naive opponent filled him with endless arrogance and resentment. He silently vowed, "Once I recover and regain my full strength, I'll make you kneel, grinding your dignity beneath my claws!" Agnas's lips curled into a cruel smile, his mind already concocting ways to humiliate Seratus. The fiery rage within him burned, though tempered by the exhaustion of the recent battle.

  At that moment, as Seratus was feeding on the beast's remains to replenish his strength, a cold, mechanical voice from the system broke the silence, "Ding! Host behavior judgment: Evil Karma +1. Continue exploring the consequences of your actions?"

  Hearing this icy prompt, Seratus's heart jolted. He thought to himself, "System, are you saying eating meat increases evil karma? This Buddhist-like system is both amusing and frustrating!" Watching the rising evil karma value, though dissatisfied, he had no choice—the system was still at level one, barely capable of basic communication. Seratus muttered softly, "In that case, I'll unlock the exchange store after the harvest. Maybe then I can trade for something better. As for evil karma, I'll just go vegetarian in the future."

  Meanwhile, though the intense battle at home had just ended, its aftermath continued to ripple within. Agnas, though defeated, remained filled with resentment, voraciously devouring the beast's remains; his arrogance and pride in his wounds remained unchanged, as he continued to declare, "These wounds are my honor! Once I recover, I'll fight you to the death!" Such words left Seratus feeling both helpless and a twinge of disappointment—if he too fell into such meaningless strife, how could he embody the nobility and wisdom of a red dragon?

  Seratus looked at his scarred body, the blood and dragon blood mingling and splattering on the cold ground, each wound silently recounting the brutal battle of the past. He slowly quelled the anger in his heart, calmly weighing his shortcomings and his hopes for the future. Though the system panel showed his evil karma silently accumulating, he knew this was but a temporary gain and loss.

  At this moment, complex emotions surged within him—recalling Agnas's stubborn defiance, Catilia's biting sarcasm, and those moments of deep humiliation, he became increasingly aware: If he fell into endless strife, he would lose himself, forfeiting the dignity and wisdom befitting a red dragon.

  He silently vowed never to let the pursuit of power sway his heart. Finally, Seratus looked toward the silent volcanic cave and the glittering treasure in the corner, realizing his most urgent task was to recover from his wounds, complete his farming, and lay a solid foundation for his home, rather than wallow in conflict.

  With a long sigh, he quietly noted the cold mechanical prompt. Though he had to continue swallowing the bitter meat to survive, the bitterness would gradually fade within his heart.

  Finally, Seratus raised his head, gazing toward the silent volcanic cave and the glittering treasure in the corner. He knew that now, the most important thing was to recover from his wounds, continue his farming, and lay a solid foundation for his home, rather than be drawn into endless strife.

  He sighed, quietly noting the mechanical prompt in his heart. Though he had to continue consuming the bloodied meat, the taste gradually became less significant within him.