Evolving by devouring from a young dragon

Once out of the sinkhole, the gravel road turned into a dirt road, slowing down the travel speed considerably.

The road was so rough that the two carriages could not even travel side by side and could only move one after the other.

The dirt road was full of potholes and undulating, and the wheels made a constant clanging sound as they rolled over the gullies. In addition, it was the height of summer in June, which made people... no, the land very annoyed.

Grimm tucked his cane under his arm, gripped the reins with his left hand, and tugged at his collar with his right.

New cotton robes absorb sweat, but once they're soaked, they stick to your body, feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

He glanced back at the convoy behind him. The three carriages were jolting violently, the tarpaulins on the carriages billowing and falling back in the wind, and the ironware in the iron ingot carriages clanging against each other, making a cacophony even more chaotic than the hammering from the workshop.

Grimm wiped his sweat, an idea forming in his mind.

After returning this time, he must get a better carriage. No, he heard that there are flying carriages in the Magic Empire, and he must get one!

The thought had barely formed in his mind when he shook his head.

These kinds of magical creations are extremely expensive to build, and each activation requires a large amount of magic crystals; he simply can't afford to maintain them...

The goblin traveling with him sat in another carriage, his account book spread out on his lap and a charcoal pencil tucked to his ear, but the constant jolting of the carriage made it impossible for him to concentrate; he was simply agitated.

Grimm withdrew his gaze, tapped the horse's body lightly with his cane, and the old horse quickened its pace briefly. After a moment, the horse also felt too hot and gradually slowed down, moving forward steadily.

Orc scouts were positioned on either side of the train convoy.

Grim glanced at the orcs walking on both sides of the caravan, shook his head, and looked somewhat puzzled.

He had been to the Ash Plateau, where there was a kind of flying bird kept by orcs that looked similar to the lord, both having wings.

They could have used the mounts to travel, but they didn't; instead, they all drove the carriage together.

They were still wearing thick armor.

Although they were scouts, they were still fully armed.

However, although they walk easily now, they have been suffering terribly for a long time.

After being exposed to the scorching sun for a long time, the armor on his body had long since become scalding hot, and streams of sweat seeped out from the gaps in the armor and dripped down the edges of the armor plates.

Among them was Grom.

At first, when the dragon lord assigned him the task, he was very excited and patted his chest, promising that he would complete the task well.

Therefore, when he set off, he specially chose the thickest iron armor, with double-layered plates and a breastplate that was polished to a shine so bright that it could reflect the shadow of beasts.

He was thinking that he shouldn't lose face for his territory when he was out in the world, but now he just wanted to strip off this metal suit, throw it into the ditch by the roadside, and walk around shirtless.

But he had no choice. As an orc warrior, how could he abandon his armor and weapons?

There was no other way but to grit my teeth and keep going.

But the sound of the metal plates scraping against each other sounded to him like a mockery.

He took a breath, a surge of resentment rising within him.

When he set off, he specifically requested the use of the winged beasts from the chieftain, but the chieftain refused without a second thought. Even when he pleaded in the name of the dragon, the chieftain still refused to budge.

As for the Great Shaman, there was no room for negotiation.

The chieftain's reasoning was straightforward: the Winged Beasts were the core fighting force of the tribe, and using them to escort supplies would be a waste and not worth using.

He had no choice. It was a trivial matter, and he couldn't very well report it to the lord. He could only suppress his thoughts and lead his team on foot.

However, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Is the chief deliberately making things difficult for me?

Since the tribes submitted to the dragons, the orcs have long been divided into two factions.

One view is that one should submit to the dragon, but the relationship between the two parties is merely one of cooperation, and one must adhere to one's original beliefs and never compromise.

Another reason is gratitude for being saved, believing that Alduin is their savior, and that if the dragons hadn't intervened, the entire Emberfang Orcs would have been completely wiped out long ago.

He was a new generation of orc captain personally promoted by Alduin, and his stance was always firm, wholeheartedly following his successor.

Differences in stance gradually build up barriers.

Thinking about this, he became even more certain that the orc chieftain must have targeted him for this reason.

At the same time, his resentment towards the chief deepened.

In fact, although there were religious conflicts among the orcs, everything could be resolved as long as the high shaman spoke.

In orc tribes, the chieftain is called the leader, while the shaman is the spiritual leader.

However, the high shaman made no comment at all, simply staying in the camp every day and doing nothing.

Shaking off the random thoughts in his mind, Grom continued on his way, glancing at his companions.

The other two companions, one of whom was wearing light armor, were also hot, but much more relaxed than him.

The other one couldn't even be called armor anymore; except for the chest and shoulders, the rest of the armor had been removed. Compared to him, he was much more comfortable.

Grom secretly made up his mind that next time he went out, he would never choose to wear heavy armor, no matter what.

Grimm glanced back at Grom, opened his mouth as if to say something, but then turned back away.

Grom saw Grim turn around and straightened his back a bit, not wanting people to think that orcs were less hardworking than goblins.

The moment he straightened his back, the metal plates on his back caught the sweat, cooled it briefly, and then immediately became scorching hot again.

He gritted his teeth and took a bigger step.

Grom straightened his back and looked at Blue at the back of the line.

The stone giant walked at the very back of the group, his face expressionless, his movements unchanging, and he didn't seem to feel the heat at all.

Grom thought to himself, "It's so nice to be a stone."

Fire Spirit perched on Blue's shoulder, its red feathers gleaming like flames in the sunlight. It tucked its wings in and buried its head in the feathers on its chest, remaining motionless.

Grom stared at the red feather for two seconds and thought to himself, "Doesn't this bird feel hot?"

Blue noticed Grom's gaze from behind, and as if he understood something, he quickly stepped forward, leaped over the carriage, and walked to the front of the line.

Grom was puzzled, but he soon understood.

A seven-meter-tall stone giant walked at the front, casting a huge shadow in the sunlight that completely covered the convoy.

The scorching sunlight was blocked by the shadows, and the group relaxed, their tense bodies unwinding, and their steps becoming much lighter.

The procession continued.

The sun quickly set, the sky turned a dark red, the clouds were blown away by the wind, and stars peeked out from the gaps in the clouds.

The temperature finally dropped, and a cool wind blew in from the north, making Grim shiver as it blew against his sweat-soaked clothes.

Grimm tapped the horse with his cane, and the horse immediately stopped. Then he raised his cane and got off the carriage.

"Set up camp here."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.