"How could the two demons I killed compare to a Balrog?" Muria, surrounded by a hurricane, landed in front of Atreyan with a humble smile. "Combined, they wouldn't even be enough to withstand a slap from a Balrog."
"You're only at the fifth tier of gold level, and yet you're already capable of killing soul-intent demons of the third tier. Meanwhile, I'm at the fourth tier of soul intent, having killed a Balrog, which is just a tier above me. I can't compare to you," Atreyan said with a sigh, admiringly surveying Muria.
"Gold fifth tier?" Muria touched his nose, under his feet, the faint shadows of eighteen complex soul-intent rings momentarily emerged but disappeared just as quickly, unable to sustain them for long.
"Soul-intent rings!" Atreyan, catching a glimpse of the fleeting rings under Muria's feet, showed a trace of shock.
"Still a bit more to go," Muria said, slightly dissatisfied, shaking his head. The rings he manifested were not true soul-intent rings, hence their brief appearance. He was only on the verge of reaching soul intent, poised for a breakthrough at any moment.
"You've already sensed your own soul and grasped the true essence of power. Give it some time, and you'll break through to the soul-intent level," Atreyan observed Muria's slight discontent and sighed, "Muria, how old are you now?"
"Forty-eight."
"So young," Atreyan exclaimed with admiration. "I didn't break through to soul intent until I was sixty, and you, it seems, will make it in two or three years, by the time you're fifty."
"Heh, it might take a bit longer," Muria replied, a bit embarrassed by the envy on the titan's face, but quickly regained his composure. "I've heard that among humans, the top geniuses can break through to soul intent in their twenties or thirties. Me breaking through at fifty is nothing special."
"Humans?" Atreyan shook his head. "Why compare yourself to humans? We're too different from them, plus many of them rely on external aids for their breakthroughs. There's no basis for comparison."
"I'm just reminding myself not to become arrogant," Muria said, straightening up with a serious expression.
As Atreyan was about to respond, dragons' cries for help came from afar—another soul-intent demon had appeared. But as Muria was about to address this new threat, cries from another direction signaled more trouble.
"I'll take care of this side," Atreyan offered, seeing Muria's intention to rescue. Titans within their domain, aware of Muria's presence, knew how much he valued these chromatic dragons.
"Thanks," Muria said, casually opening a portal and stepping through with his longbow.
"This guy…" Atreyan watched Muria's efficient departure, then, holding the Balrog's head and wielding his spear, rode the storm towards the source of the distress calls.
High atop the mountains, majestic palaces sprawled, surrounding an ancient courtyard at the peak.
Under the noon sun, a grand teleportation circle appeared above the courtyard, its brilliance even outshining the sun. Then, one after another, fearsome dragons flew out from the circle, heading towards the palace complex below, their dwelling.
However, some dragons stood out—three red dragons radiating intense heat and a white dragon carrying a chilling aura landed directly in the courtyard amid envious glances from the other dragons.
After nearly a hundred chromatic dragons had emerged, a dragon whose scales gleamed with golden light appeared last. After surveying the returning dragons, it descended to the ground.
"Muria, why are there so many seriously injured dragons this time?" A snow-white large cat greeted the golden dragon as it landed. Pointing to the eight dragons lying in the courtyard, it asked Muria.
Every time Muria took his dragon brood into the abyssal training ground, they encountered various dangers. Despite all dragons reaching gold-tier strength, they were still vulnerable to soul-intent level demons without Muria's protection.
In situations where Muria couldn't rescue them in time, it was up to Cassio to save the day, teleporting dragons in mortal peril out of harm's way. Thus, Muria's trips to the abyss had yet to result in any dragon casualties.
But there were always some who returned severely injured. This time, eight dragons had been grievously wounded, including Auston, the red dragon.
Now, Auston's condition seemed less dire; his torn wing had been reattached, and the wounds on his body had scabbed over. However, his once majestic appearance was now marred by his injuries.
Still, Auston wasn't the only one in a sorry state; seven other dragons
lay nearby, visibly suffering as they consumed the healing items prepared by Cassio—elemental crystals corresponding to their attributes.
Elemental crystals, while tasteless and generally pleasant for dragons to consume, especially when injured, posed a psychological challenge. For dragons, known for their greed, consuming valuable elemental crystals—effectively 'money'—was distressing, despite their healing properties.
"Make sure you eat them all, don't try to hide any in your mouth, and don't even think about taking any with you," Muria instructed sternly, not even considering the dragons' greedy nature.
"The abyssal training ground unleashed a Balrog, and it brought a number of soul-intent demons with it. That's what led to the current situation," Muria explained. Balrogs, being lord-type demons, often had many soul-intent demons willingly follow them.
"You encountered a Balrog?" Troi asked, his turquoise tiger eyes scanning Muria. "Even for you, surviving a Balrog is commendable. Only a few dragons got hurt? That seems too few."
Muria rolled his eyes at Troi. "Another Titan dealt with that Balrog before it could attack us."
"Which Titan?"
"Atreyan."
"A soul-intent level four Titan, so the Balrog is dead?" The large white cat tilted its head in inquiry.
"What else?" Muria responded, his gaze then shifting to a green dragon that was trying to hide something. He strode over and kicked it, unconcerned that it was an injured patient.
"Bring it out and swallow it, don't try to hide it," Muria commanded, focusing on the green dragon, which had extracted an elemental crystal from a gaping wound and, under Muria's stern gaze, reluctantly swallowed it.