For Grant, Morgan felt an unprecedented urge to kill. If it weren’t for this scum’s reckless pursuit of merit and dragging others down with him, how could his comrades Arthur and the fire dragon Michael have ended up in such a desperate situation?

“No, don’t give up on me! Arthur, I’m begging you! Don’t give up on me, I’ll give you lots and lots of money, and beautiful women, I’ll have my father grant you a noble title—duke, earl, whatever you want, even a territory and a castle are no problem! I can also bring great benefits to your family! You know, my father is one of the empire’s four ministers, he can definitely make it happen, just don’t give up on me, Arthur!” Hearing Morgan’s words, Grant no longer cared about his usual rudeness toward him. Terrified out of his wits, he pinned all his hopes of survival on Arthur and the fire dragon, fully aware that with just his own little wyvern’s tiny claws and wings, in this out-of-control forbidden spell environment, he was absolutely doomed.

Grant even set aside his usual pride, promising Arthur all sorts of benefits in a voice nearly sobbing, desperately begging, groveling for a chance to survive like a wretched dog.

Money and women were nothing, but a noble title, and the help it could bring to his family’s future—Arthur’s face showed a bitter smile. This scum really was like a devil; how could such temptations not move him? Not just for himself, but for his family—he could only say, if there’s a chance, he has to take it.

Arthur seemed to have made up his mind. Gritting his teeth, he shouted at his dragon, “Michael, give it your all! No matter what it takes, we must break through today. I will repay you! Charge!” All his battle energy erupted once more, pouring into the fire dragon’s body as if it cost nothing. At this moment, the greatest advantage of a dragon knight with the same element as his dragon was fully unleashed.

The fire dragon Michael let out a long roar, the fireballs under its wings—used for propulsion—burning even hotter, booming with explosive force. As a partner to its dragon knight, it chose to trust and support him without reservation.

“Gold Coin! Go save Arthur and Michael!” Morgan slapped the golden dragon’s armored scales and shouted loudly. He could see that the fire dragon Michael still couldn’t escape the pull of the spatial rift, its speed gradually decreasing.

“You’re crazy! That’s a grand forbidden spell—even I can’t guarantee I’ll get out alive. Doing this is suicide!” Gold Coin turned its head and roared at Morgan.

“Michael, harder, you stupid dragon, push harder, you must break through! I’ll reward you handsomely!” Grant shouted frantically, entering a hysterical state as if he’d seen a lifeline.

But the fire dragon Michael let out unwilling roars. It had already done its best, its flames burning to the limit, rumbling loudly, but still unable to escape the powerful pull of the spatial rift. Its huge dragon eyes were filled with despair, roaring in defiance with all its might.

“Morgan, if you make it out alive, please take care of my little sister Luna, and my Onisha. Tell her to find a better man and marry him—I wish them happiness! I will always love her and Luna!” On the back of the fire dragon Michael, Arthur took off his helmet, eyes brimming with tears, and shouted hoarsely to Morgan not far away.

Michael had done everything it could, but still couldn’t break free from the spatial forbidden spell’s pull from the rift.

“Help! Someone save me! Arthur, you bastard, I want your whole clan to die with me!”

Grant cried and screamed, falling into madness. His ungrateful nature resurfaced as he desperately cursed Arthur and Michael, completely ignoring the fact that they had risked themselves to save him.

“Save them! Now!” Morgan was more resolute than ever, staring down the golden dragon with unwavering determination.

“Absolutely not!” Gold Coin roared. The knight partner he’d always looked down on actually dared to order him like this, risking a dragon’s life for such a suicidal act.

Section 9: The Lost! The Lost Dragon Knight

The gold dragon, by nature bloodthirsty, was already a blessing not to cause trouble for others—how could he risk his life to save someone else in this situation? His bowl-sized dragon eyes flashed with wild, rebellious ferocity, wishing he could throw Morgan off his back and tear him to pieces, even at the risk of breaking their contract and being punished by the dragon race.

Morgan raised the strangely shaped seven-inch dragon flute and said coldly, “Say ‘no’ one more time, and I’ll lock you in the dragon flute and throw you into the spatial rift, exiled for all eternity.” His voice seemed to come from hell, filled with chilling resolve. This was no idle threat—if this dragon still acted as willfully as usual, he would rather perish together with this damned beast.

“You—!” The golden dragon was so furious it could only utter a single word before its throat was choked off, its eyes blazing with anger. Morgan’s threat was even more real than the grand forbidden spell. It absolutely believed Morgan would go through with it—being locked in the dragon flute was already endless darkness, let alone being thrown into a spatial rift, lost in the chaotic currents of space, sleeping until death with no hope of release. For a dragon with endless life, this was even more despairing than death itself—a bone-chilling terror rose from deep within.