Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton-Chapter 859 - 478 Dragon God Blood Can Evolve_2

Chapter 859: Chapter 478: Dragon God Blood, Can Evolve_2

Chapter 859: Chapter 478: Dragon God Blood, Can Evolve_2

“Deformed Dragon? How did you grow so big then? Do you live here? What do you usually eat?” Negris asked, puzzled.

This island wasn’t desolate, but it obviously couldn’t support a fifty-meter-long giant dragon. Where would the food come from? Eating migratory birds? Don’t make me laugh.

“I can swim,” Doroc said.

“Pfft—you can swim?” It was nothing short of an evolutionary miracle, a giant dragon that could swim?

That was the only plausible explanation, otherwise, it was hard to figure out how it could survive here. This wasn’t the Dragon Island from the Master Plane that could sustain millions of little fat sheep, only by eating fish could it have grown so large and survived.

“How old are you this year?” Negris asked.

“Two thousand years old,” Doroc replied.

“What? Over two thousand years old, and you’re about to die? Are you kidding me? Aren’t you a Gold Dragon?” Negris, shocked, flew up and fluttered around Doroc in a circle.

The scent of life’s exhaustion was clear and unmistakable, indeed signaling the end of its lifespan.

“How is that possible? That aura of yours doesn’t seem like it belongs to a two-thousand-year-old Gold Dragon. You’re lying, aren’t you? You smell like you’re over ten thousand years old, but your skin and scales look young. On the body of a young giant dragon, an old, decaying scent is coming off, which is very strange,” Negris said with a bewildered look on his face.

Without thinking, Doroc’s claws twitched. He hesitated over whether he should just slap this Embryo Dragon to death, but as soon as this impulse came to him, he instantly sensed a danger. Glancing from the corner of his eye, Ange’s gaze had somehow fixed on him.

After some thought, Doroc relaxed his claws. Killing an Embryo Dragon obviously wouldn’t change the situation; it would only enrage the other party and he wouldn’t even be able to protect the Dragon Eggs—though those might already be rotten. They were the last hope of their Dragon Clan.

With a silent sigh, Doroc answered, “Since the degeneration of our wings began, our Dragon Clan’s lifespan has plummeted. By my generation, it has dwindled to just under two thousand years.”

“Degeneration? Giant dragons can still degenerate… uh, into what? Into something that can dive into the ocean and swim? Into a fish? A Gold Dragon Fish?” Negris mumbled to himself.

He was initially inclined to say they don’t degenerate, but then he thought of the Dragon God and considered those of his kind on the Master Plane who couldn’t even hatch their offspring. If that wasn’t degeneration, what was it?

Doroc glared at him. To even mention the grand Giant Dragon in the same breath as fish—if it were any other species, Doroc might have already swiped it with its claws, though the complainer was, after all, a Gold…

“This isn’t gold, is it? This is brass, a Bronze Dragon? You’re an Ancient Dragon? You are an Ancient Dragon!?” Doroc finally recognized something, and suddenly became very excited, bracing himself on his front limbs as though he wanted to get up.

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Unfortunately, before he could raise his body, his limbs gave way, collapsing back down.

With this movement, the wound in his chest tore open again, and the blood gushed out, unable to be stemmed.

Doroc gave a bitter smile as he lay back down, lamenting and helpless, “Imagine that, meeting an Ancient Dragon right before death—I can’t believe it. It’s such a shame you came too late. If you have anything else to ask, do it quickly. I might not last much longer. I could’ve held on for another month or two, but with all this blood loss, I won’t last half a day.”

“Half a day is enough. It’s not like we’re telling a story for a month or two. But you’re losing so much blood, do you want to treat it at all?” Negris offered reassurance.

Doroc’s eyes widened in surprise, “You can heal? My magic resistance is very high. Ordinary healing magic won’t work well on me.”

“I know, I know, my magic resistance is even higher than yours. Don’t worry; we’ll heal ‘a little bit.’ Want to try?” Negris made a small gesture with his tiny claws as he asked.

Doroc felt a surge of anger about to burst from his mouth for some reason.

After struggling to contain it, he managed a strained smile and said, “Of course, I would prefer to die of old age rather than from excessive blood loss.”

“Alright then, Ange,” Negris called back.

Ange produced a series of Holy Light from the Face Purification Technique and injected it into Doroc’s body. Despite his immense size and high magic resistance, Ange’s magic wasn’t Elemental Magic.

Doroc lowered his head and watched in amazement as his wound quickly stopped bleeding, healed over with new flesh, leaving only a large, scaleless, exposed area behind.

The scales for a giant dragon were like hair for humans—they weren’t something the Face Purification Technique could heal. To regrow them, they would need Little Sapling, and that would cost extra.

But the bleeding had stopped, and the whole process had taken less than ten seconds.

Doroc propped himself up in disbelief, looking at the bare patch on his chest, then at Ange, and finally fixing his gaze on Negris. What kind of ‘little’ healing was this?

Negris always loved seeing the astonished expressions on others’ faces, smugly crossing his arms with inner satisfaction: “How about that? Pretty good, right?”

He had come to think of Doroc as a young member of his clan—a two-thousand-year-old little rascal at the perfect age to tease.

Doroc’s mouth twitched as he fought off the urge to snap, managing a forced smile and replying, “Yeah, of course. Really good.”

As he spoke, he moved a little and felt as if even some old injuries within his body had healed. Doroc thought he might now live an additional two months.

Negris, filled with mischievous satisfaction at being incomprehensible yet unstoppable, steered the conversation back on track: “What about those eggs? I smelled that some had gone bad.”