Beneath the Red Dragon

Dragon’s Nest Mountain Range, Howling Cliff.

The sprawling terrain of the mountain range resembles folds and undulations, with ridges and valleys forming a landscape akin to the veins within a living being.

Under this mountain range that stretches for thousands of miles, the King of Frost Giants, Ragna Heg, stands at the divide between the fractured road and the mountain body, gazing upwards.

Extending from west to east, the mountains appear to Ragna, King of Frost Giants, like the shadow of the Ancestral Red Dragon in his heart, vast and unmovable.

In the old days, when these mountains were yet to grow taller, standing only over a thousand meters high, the beloved ones of the dragons built wide stone step roads on the main ridges where dragons perched.

Yet, with the explosive growth of the mountains, these thousand-meter stone step roads have been pulled and snapped asunder by the growing mountain, hanging sparsely along the faint mountain paths.

While this has, in another sense, extended the distance of the stone step roads, it remains just a small path at the foot of the towering main peak.

Many wild grasses and trees grow from the frost-bitten and fractured stone slabs, resembling ancient relic roads leading to some deep, unknown treasure.

Having reached this point, the King of Frost Giants can no longer ascend along the remnants of the old road. The peaks where dragons dwell have ceased to build roads.

If mortals wish to climb the mountains, they can only tread the paths worn by the shepherds who graze their beasts on the mountain ridges.

Ragna could hear the song of the Golden People on the high mountains, conveyed by the warm wind sweeping down from the heights.

”Cross the cold Dragon Range, to the deep ancient lair and its rugged rocks,”

”Embark swiftly at dawn, in search of the forgotten treasure home,”

”On the mountain’s crest, pine waves howl, night winds lament like breaking heartstrings,”

”Scarlet flames burn endlessly, giant trees torching the forests...”

The sound of bagpipes was faintly audible in the wind, along with the jingling bells of the lead sheep and lead cattle swaying to and fro.

Such a feeling evokes within Ragna, this Frost Giant King, a sense experienced by adventurers and travelers as they journey the world, witnessing diverse sights.

The songs of the frost giants over the Northern Frost Plains always carry a note of desolation and coldness, but the songs that arise in the Golden Empire always give Frost Giant Ragna a sense of lofty grandeur.

”Ah, this feeling is actually quite good!” Ragna turned back to gaze at the dense, sprawling forests at the foot of the mountain, where many skeletal undead occasionally emerge, and distant, towering cities dwarf even the stone cities newly built by the frost giants on the plains by hundreds of times.

A war axe, seemingly carved from glaciers of eons past, hangs on the back of this Frost Giant, its chilling aura incongruous with the surroundings, yet embraced by the expanse of the earth.

Just like the feeling Ragna has while walking through the cities of the Golden Empire.

No Golden Person would be surprised or bewildered by his arrival; even knowing he is the king of the Northern Frost Giant Tribe, the Golden People felt no fear, their eyes upon this Frost Giant King filled more with curiosity.

Ragna’s stature, many times stronger than ordinary frost giants, does not stand out among the cities of the Golden Empire, where tall buildings and robust creatures abound.

Those roofless towers, Ragna cannot even touch the first tower ring.

Initially, Ragna thought his arrival would at least draw the attention of the Golden Empire; that they would not view him as a threat, yet the accompanying dragons and oversight would nonetheless be substantial.

But contrary to his expectations, he, like an ordinary frost giant, could traverse many cities with merely a pass from the Golden Empire, and to this day, he has not seen a Giant Dragon Lord appear beside him.

If it were any other country, Ragna would not dare venture so boldly, but the existence of the Golden Empire, even those frost giants on the Frost Plains, cannot question its credibility.

”Is this the magnanimity of an empire?”

The frost giant shook his head and continued his ascent.

Even knowing the disparity between frost giants and the Golden Empire, even knowing the gap between himself and that Red Dragon, yet the King of Frost Giants Ragna does not change his original aspiration; he still seeks to challenge that Ancestral Red Dragon.

He has declared his intentions and whereabouts, yet it has not drawn much attention; the mountain path is his alone, solitary.

The mighty mountain range ascends ever upward, its temperature suddenly dropping dramatically at certain points, demarcating several distinct climatic zones.

The foothills remain in tropical rainforest climates, but as elevation increases, it gradually transitions into subtropical and temperate climates.

Early on, Ragna would encounter many shepherds, whether youth or young adults, tending their herds, who would warmly greet the frost giant and offer him wine and milk in hospitality.

By the time Ragna reaches approximately four thousand meters up the mountain’s grand grassy slope, he feels the climate noticeably chillier, with fewer shepherds around.

Yet, the vegetation remains dense, with yaks, snow leopards, and other creatures accustomed to life in high mountains appearing frequently.

Also, sparse herds of rock sheep, bighorn sheep with massive horns, and pikas living in crevices.

As Ragna ascends further, the mortal creatures clearly dwindle, replaced by extraordinary beings.