Arthur stared at the suddenly raging metal dragon and the long, sword-shaped blade less than a foot from his face, his complexion drained of all color. He had long heard of the infamous bloodthirsty nature of the so-called "Slaughter Dragon" among the metal dragons, but he never expected it to come this close—especially with his own mount and companion, the fire dragon Michael, right there, and yet the metal dragon was already thinking of killing him.

"You think you can do whatever you want? Goldie, don’t think I’ll be scared of you just because you’re tough. I’m not someone to mess with!" The fire dragon Michael roared loudly, furious as always at the metal dragon Goldie. Damn it, this moody metal dragon had almost killed his own partner right in front of him. The Dragon God really shouldn’t have included metal dragons on the list of contractable dragon species.

Michael spewed out a blazing wall of fire, firmly shielding his knight. The intense heat instantly turned the sharp, sword-like blade extending from the metal dragon’s wingtip red-hot, even making it glow. The high temperature from the flames made the metal dragon feel a tingling numbness along the blade. After all, at a certain level of heat, even a metal dragon’s control and reaction over its metallic body parts would be significantly weakened.

The metal dragon, however, just sneered coldly, withdrew its blade, and lay back down with disdain.

"Let me see, let me see—hahaha! The dragon knight Morgan, who could be killed by his own dragon at any moment, and the dragon knight Arthur, practicing stealth—so you two were hiding here all along? Are your two unruly dragons fighting each other? What a disgrace to the Dragon Knight Legion!" An annoying voice came from above the snowy peak, interrupting the conversation between Morgan and Arthur. The whole scene just now had been witnessed.

Morgan and Arthur both changed expression, a look of disgust flashing in their eyes. Looking up, they saw a bipedal wyvern carrying a young man in extremely ornate and eye-catching armor, flying overhead.

This guy was Grant, the only son of the Minister of Civil Affairs, Harrison. Relying on his father’s immense power, connections, and wealth, he had managed to get himself a bipedal wyvern from the sub-dragon species as a mount, a set of master-crafted mithril armor, and an outrageously lavish cloak. He had even pulled strings to get himself a so-called "Sky Knight" title in the Dragon Knight Legion, often using this status to chase after women everywhere.

Now, he’d come to the battlefield to fish for military merit. With his ridiculously flashy mithril armor and his pitifully weak battle aura, he was a glaringly obvious target in the sky. To put it bluntly, while the real sky knights fought at the front, he’d hang back to pick up the spoils and claim undeserved credit.

There was nothing anyone could do—his father was one of the empire’s four great ministers: in charge of finance, law, civil affairs, and military. The Dragon Knight Legion’s supervisor, Earl McCauley, a sycophant, was eager to curry favor with the wealthy and powerful Minister Harrison. Even the upright legion commander Roger had no choice but to bow to power, privately instructing every dragon knight to look after this arrogant second-generation brat, even letting him take some credit, just to get rid of him sooner.

The moment Grant suddenly appeared, Morgan and Arthur exchanged a glance, both feeling like a single rat had spoiled the whole pot.

"Arthur, you’re a noble—don’t get too close to commoners! Be careful not to lose your status." Perhaps wary of Arthur’s noble background and connections, Grant hovered shakily in the air on his wyvern, turning his spear toward Morgan. "Morgan! Remember this: today you’re going to kill ten enemies for me, and make sure the credit goes to me. If you dare disobey, you’ll be sorry. As a commoner, you should be grateful to a noble like me. Don’t think just because you’re a dragon knight I can’t deal with you. Hmph! A commoner is always a commoner!"

As a noble, Grant loved to flaunt his noble blood in front of dragon knights of common birth, bossing them around arrogantly, acting lawlessly, even extorting military merit and stealing spoils of war.

Perhaps it was fate, but those able to sign a contract with the Dragon God were more often of common birth. Yet this Grant had never been able to achieve even the slightest soul resonance with a true dragon, and could only ride a pitiful sub-dragon forced into a slave contract, pretending to be a dragon knight in the legion. Even the few other sky knights without true dragons as mounts wanted nothing to do with him, always keeping their distance.

Grant continued to curse and threaten Morgan; this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. With his father’s favoritism and the flattery of those sycophantic officials, he was becoming more and more out of control.

This guy was a total scoundrel.

"Grant, I’m not afraid of you! If you dare threaten my friend again, watch out or I’ll beat you up!" Before Morgan could even get angry, Arthur jumped up, his whole body wrapped in fiery energy. Resonating with the battle aura of the fire dragon beside him, the surrounding temperature instantly soared, and the ground beneath his feet sizzled from the heat.

Seeing Arthur erupt in fury, the second-generation brat from the Minister’s family knew better than to suffer a loss in front of him. He quickly pulled his wyvern far away, but still tried to save face: "Arthur, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re a dragon knight. I’m not afraid of you! Mind your own business! We’ll see about this!" With that, he hurriedly fled, afraid that if he lingered, Arthur’s fist would land on him.