Chapter 79: Slumber

A day later, the spoils of war brought by the conflict had been divided between Garon and the White Dragon Mother, each taking their share back to their own territories.

On her last departure, the White Dragon Mother accompanied Garon back to the Ice Cliff Territory and candidly told him to make sure to include her in similar ventures in the future. Her demeanor suggested she had put aside any past grievances with Garon.

In the face of mutual benefits, the conflicts between them seemed negligible. After all, disputes over treasure and territory were common among the chromatic dragons.

Besides, even if the White Dragon Mother wanted to retaliate, she no longer saw any opportunity to do so. The shared battle had profoundly demonstrated Garon's rapidly advancing strength, far exceeding the White Dragon Mother's understanding of white dragons. She even wondered if her egg had been switched by that damned Crystal Dragon long ago.

Inside his dragon nest perched at a 500-meter high ice cliff, Garon turned to look deep into his lair, where magic armor and greatswords emitting faint elemental fluctuations were piled up like a small mountain. Though the arrangement seemed chaotic, it was undeniably a display of wealth.

Most of these magic items were standard-issue, yet they represented a considerable fortune. Garon thought if the opportunity arose, he might exchange them for the magic gems he favored more.

There were many valuable things, but Garon loved ancient artifacts imbued with the essence of time and, of course, beautiful magic gems.

Just recently, Garon discovered a newfound interest in timekeeping devices. Among the spoils from a caster, he found a small object made of gold and silver, resembling a pocket watch. The body was made of gold, and the pointers were silver, reflecting shimmering light. The tiny, constant ticking of the gears inside brought him a sense of peace.

Placing this pocket watch-like device beside his bed, Garon picked up a spatial ring. A ripple in space followed, and from it fell a sharp magic greatsword, some magic materials, books, scrolls, and snacks.

This ring, which had belonged to Koborfield, contained items mainly from him, except for the greatsword, which was Murphy's.

Garon first examined the magic greatsword.

The long and wide blade was inscribed with dense runes. As the cold wind blew over it, it seemed as if the sharp blade itself was slicing through the air, emitting a mournful sound. The blade still bore traces of the White Dragon Mother's dragon blood.

At the base where the handle met the blade, there was a high-quality turquoise gem, and the handle bore inscriptions in a language Garon could not decipher, presumably the name of the greatsword.

"It's not in the common tongue, and by its size, it wasn't meant for regular humans to wield."

Garon channeled magic into the greatsword, and a concentrated aura of sharpness formed around it. He gently prodded the ground with it, and the tough ice and permafrost were pierced as easily as tofu.

"A fine weapon, indeed. Too bad I can't use it."

True dragons can utilize weapons to enhance themselves, but due to their size, most weapons were unusable unless they used shape-changing magic to alter their form.

Garon certainly couldn't go about poking people with a stick-like weapon.

"There must be spells that allow a weapon to change form, but I don't know them."

Garon looked at the gem on the hilt, contemplating whether to remove it.

After a few seconds, he shook his head, dismissing the thought. A weapon that could easily slice through dragon scales was valuable not just for its gem but for the meticulously crafted runes and the unknown metal used for the blade. Its value far exceeded that of a single gem.

Choosing not to commit such a wasteful act, Garon added it to his collection. Not wanting to risk cutting himself while asleep, he didn't place it on his bed of gems but rather just beneath it.

With this haul, the thickness of Garon's gem bed had increased. Lying on it, surrounded by gems of various colors, he drew in copious amounts of elemental energy with each breath, a truly delightful sensation.

However, Garon's ultimate aim was to create a large pool filled with gems instead of water, deep enough to immerse himself and swim in. He was far from this goal.

Next, Garon turned his attention to the books that had come with Koborfield's belongings. After carefully reading through them, his expression mixed pleasure with disappointment. The pleasure came from discovering books on protective magic, containing fundamental runes, spells, and spell models. The disappointment stemmed from their being only low-level spells.

These books were almost worn out, showing that their previous owner had tried to preserve them, but time had taken its toll. They were likely Koborfield's cherished beginner's textbooks.

Garon made space and placed these books alongside others he had obtained from

 an ettin.

Though he had memorized their contents, occasionally browsing through the books offered a deeper experience than mere recollection.

He glanced at the human food extracted from the spatial ring. Some were delicately shaped, small sweets exuding a faint honey scent, while others were bottles of pale red liquid—when the cap was crushed, a faint aroma of wine wafted out.

Pastries and wine—a peculiar choice for the old mage.

Garon grabbed a handful of the pastries and tossed them into his mouth, chewed briefly, then washed them down with the wine, grimacing at the poor combination of flavors.

He preferred meat, cooked or raw, although he could eat anything. Still, he had his preferences.

After inspecting all the spoils, Garon solemnly retrieved one last item.

A red dragon soul stone, shaped like a dragon with its head curled.

As soon as the dragon soul stone was exposed to the air, an irresistible craving surged within Garon. Having already delegated many tasks to his kin, he didn't suppress his desire this time and swallowed the stone, exuding ancient dragon essence.

The stone was small, hardly noticeable as it entered his mouth.

But as it passed down his throat and settled in his stomach, a surge of potent energy essence burst forth, tsunami-like, rolling out from his gut to his limbs and throughout his body.

Under this torrent of energy, Garon shuddered uncontrollably, groaning a few times as his claws clenched instinctively.

It was a pleasure deep from his soul, layer upon layer, climbing like a ladder until, after two hours, it finally peaked.

Boom!

Garon's mind went blank.

An immense wave of sleepiness followed, and he felt as though he was back in his mother's embrace.

The warm and comfortable sensation filled his body, making him curl his tail around his head. Listening to the howling wind and snow outside, he swiftly fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Time slipped by quietly.

The river of time, which usually flowed steadily, now formed a vortex invisible to other beings, enveloping Garon's body.

Threads of time infused him, weaving the unique fragrance of years and time upon him.