After ensuring no other creatures were in sight, Garon turned around, his regal dragon haunches facing the freshly dug pit.
He then placed a spiked chin on one of his dragon claws, gazing deeply into the flawless night sky as he exerted slight pressure, pondering the dragon life.
With the force of a bow releasing its arrow, the dragon's waste was expelled powerfully.
After the thunderous sound, a look of relief washed over Garon's face. Given the vast amount of food he consumed, a considerable amount of waste accumulated in his body.
Minutes later, Garon left behind a heap of dragon dung that would send the white hunting dogs into a frenzy with joy.
He cleared his throat, not looking back, and with a flick of his tail, he swept a large swath of snow over the precious dragon dung, concealing it.
"Sigh, in the wilderness without toilets, one must make do."
Even a serious dragon like Garon occasionally relieved himself mid-flight, occasionally blessing the odd lucky creature below with a close encounter with a true dragon's essence.
Though now a dragon, Garon still retained a shred of modesty.
He felt somewhat improper about handling his physiological needs outdoors; the idea of dropping waste from high altitudes didn't sit well with him, but he had no better solution unless one day he could sustain himself solely on time or elemental energy.
Disposing of his bodily wastes in the river was the most unobtrusive and safest method, but Garon certainly did not want to find them in his own nest one day.
After unburdening himself and feeling much lighter, Garon prepared to leave the area and return to his territory in the Ice River.
Before departing, he suddenly sensed a presence gradually approaching from behind. His gaze sharpened instantly, and he turned to look.
A massive humanoid creature, about nine feet or three meters tall, was stealthily approaching him. Upon being spotted by Garon, they locked eyes, both frozen in place for a moment.
Ugga Smashbone was an ogre from a small tribe of about forty ogres known as the Smashbone Clan.
He had just reached maturity and needed to prove his strength and bravery by hunting a formidable prey, to boast of his prowess among other ogres and secure a higher status in the Smashbone Clan, along with the right to choose a mate.
Ugga always considered himself quite intelligent.
Apart from the chieftain of the Smashbone Clan, a two-headed spellcasting ogre, no other ogre was smarter than him.
Among a group of not-so-bright ogres, Ugga always felt out of place.
As for the smarter chieftain, Ugga thought that was acceptable since the chieftain had two heads, while he had only one.
One day, while observing the two-headed ogre chieftain easily mingling with female ogres and bossing other ogres around, Ugga harbored a bold idea.
If Garon knew his thoughts, he would describe them appropriately.
"A real man should aim to replace him."
Once this idea took root, it grew like wildfire in Ugga's heart.
According to the traditions of the Smashbone Clan, adult ogres had the opportunity to challenge the chieftain. By defeating the chieftain, one could take his place and become the new leader.
However, the two-headed ogre chieftain was the most powerful leader in the history of the Smashbone Clan, even having a throne made from the skulls of challengers.
Ugga wouldn't be as reckless as other challengers; he planned to wait until the chieftain aged and weakened before issuing his challenge.
But first, Ugga needed to complete his rite of passage as a true adult ogre.
"Hmph, strong Ugga can even hunt a dragon," he boasted to his fellow ogres, then left the tribe with their admiring gazes upon him, stepping onto the ice plains outside the clan.
Along the way, using his robust ogre physique and intelligence superior to that of average ogres, whether setting traps or launching surprise attacks, Ugga killed many hunters on the ice plains.
But he wasn't quite satisfied.
The two-headed ogre chieftain had once killed an ice tempest serpent nearly ten meters long and as thick as a barrel, more formidable than any of Ugga's prey.
Until just now, a hundred miles away from the Smashbone Clan, he spotted a small white dragon in the midst of relieving itself!
Ugga was well aware of the formidable power of true dragons, even the relatively weaker white dragons.
Turning away and pretending he saw nothing would have been the best choice.
But thinking of his boastful claims that had a chance of coming true, imagining the ogres crowding around him, and dreaming of the favor of plump, voluptuous ogre females, he decided to strike with the large wooden club he carried
.
If the ambush succeeded, he might just realize his dream!
"The history of the Smashbone Clan will remember my name, Ugga Smashbone, because I killed a true dragon at my coming of age!"
Imagining this, Ugga tiptoed quietly, carefully approaching the little white dragon.
But just as this thought arose and he was about to step forward, the small white dragon suddenly turned its head, its eyes filled with chilling murderous intent.
Ugga froze, then panic filled him as he recalled all the tales of fearsome dragons.
He forced a strained smile on his face, saying awkwardly to Garon, "Noble true dragon, Ugga Smashbone was just passing by, with no ill intent."
While speaking, he subtly tried to hide his wooden club behind him, but it only made his intentions more obvious.
Garon turned his head, and his body followed, facing the creature directly.
Nine feet tall, humanoid, with dark, rough skin, powerfully built with muscles all over, black eyes with white pupils, reeking of blood, wearing simple tanned hides, and holding a large, blood-stained dark wooden club.
Upon being discovered, the ogre muttered something in a language Garon didn't understand.
Dragon heritage included only Draconic and the common tongue; the ogre, a large humanoid, spoke Giant, which Garon did not understand, hence he didn't comprehend the words.
After speaking, the ogre still squeezed out an extremely ugly smile.
"Smile, your mother!" Garon was infuriated, the last time he was this angry was... well, the last time.
With no trace of friendliness on his face, he instantly spread his wings and approached, opening his mouth to unleash a ferocious blast of frost breath.
Many think of dragon breath as a typical ability of dragons, a standard move like tail sweeps or wing flaps, or some dragon spell-like abilities.
But this is a misconception.
Dragon breath is not a common skill but a potent, difficult-to-resist signature dragon move, akin to an ultimate attack.
Even adult dragons can't maintain continuous dragon breath for long.
Garon went all out from the start.
Under the terrified gaze of the ogre, the cone-shaped frost breath instantly engulfed the ogre's body, freezing him solid within a thick layer of ice.
After ensuring no other creatures were in sight, Garon turned around, his regal dragon haunches facing the freshly dug pit.
He then placed a spiked chin on one of his dragon claws, gazing deeply into the flawless night sky as he exerted slight pressure, pondering the dragon life.
With the force of a bow releasing its arrow, the dragon's waste was expelled powerfully.
After the thunderous sound, a look of relief washed over Garon's face. Given the vast amount of food he consumed, a considerable amount of waste accumulated in his body.
Minutes later, Garon left behind a heap of dragon dung that would send the white hunting dogs into a frenzy with joy.
He cleared his throat, not looking back, and with a flick of his tail, he swept a large swath of snow over the precious dragon dung, concealing it.
"Sigh, in the wilderness without toilets, one must make do."
Even a serious dragon like Garon occasionally relieved himself mid-flight, occasionally blessing the odd lucky creature below with a close encounter with a true dragon's essence.
Though now a dragon, Garon still retained a shred of modesty.
He felt somewhat improper about handling his physiological needs outdoors; the idea of dropping waste from high altitudes didn't sit well with him, but he had no better solution unless one day he could sustain himself solely on time or elemental energy.
Disposing of his bodily wastes in the river was the most unobtrusive and safest method, but Garon certainly did not want to find them in his own nest one day.
After unburdening himself and feeling much lighter, Garon prepared to leave the area and return to his territory in the Ice River.
Before departing, he suddenly sensed a presence gradually approaching from behind. His gaze sharpened instantly, and he turned to look.
A massive humanoid creature, about nine feet or three meters tall, was stealthily approaching him. Upon being spotted by Garon, they locked eyes, both frozen in place for a moment.
Ugga Smashbone was an ogre from a small tribe of about forty ogres known as the Smashbone Clan.
He had just reached maturity and needed to prove his strength and bravery by hunting a formidable prey, to boast of his prowess among other ogres and secure a higher status in the Smashbone Clan, along with the right to choose a mate.
Ugga always considered himself quite intelligent.
Apart from the chieftain of the Smashbone Clan, a two-headed spellcasting ogre, no other ogre was smarter than him.
Among a group of not-so-bright ogres, Ugga always felt out of place.
As for the smarter chieftain, Ugga thought that was acceptable since the chieftain had two heads, while he had only one.
One day, while observing the two-headed ogre chieftain easily mingling with female ogres and bossing other ogres around, Ugga harbored a bold idea.
If Garon knew his thoughts, he would describe them appropriately.
"A real man should aim to replace him."
Once this idea took root, it grew like wildfire in Ugga's heart.
According to the traditions of the Smashbone Clan, adult ogres had the opportunity to challenge the chieftain. By defeating the chieftain, one could take his place and become the new leader.
However, the two-headed ogre chieftain was the most powerful leader in the history of the Smashbone Clan, even having a throne made from the skulls of challengers.
Ugga wouldn't be as reckless as other challengers; he planned to wait until the chieftain aged and weakened before issuing his challenge.
But first, Ugga needed to complete his rite of passage as a true adult ogre.
"Hmph, strong Ugga can even hunt a dragon," he boasted to his fellow ogres, then left the tribe with their admiring gazes upon him, stepping onto the ice plains outside the clan.
Along the way, using his robust ogre physique and intelligence superior to that of average ogres, whether setting traps or launching surprise attacks, Ugga killed many hunters on the ice plains.
But he wasn't quite satisfied.
The two-headed ogre chieftain had once killed an ice tempest serpent nearly ten meters long and as thick as a barrel, more formidable than any of Ugga's prey.
Until just now, a hundred miles away from the Smashbone Clan, he spotted a small white dragon in the midst of relieving itself!
Ugga was well aware of the formidable power of true dragons, even the relatively weaker white dragons.
Turning away and pretending he saw nothing would have been the best choice.
But thinking of his boastful claims that had a chance of coming true, imagining the ogres crowding around him, and dreaming of the favor of plump, voluptuous ogre females, he decided to strike with the large wooden club he carried
.
If the ambush succeeded, he might just realize his dream!
"The history of the Smashbone Clan will remember my name, Ugga Smashbone, because I killed a true dragon at my coming of age!"
Imagining this, Ugga tiptoed quietly, carefully approaching the little white dragon.
But just as this thought arose and he was about to step forward, the small white dragon suddenly turned its head, its eyes filled with chilling murderous intent.
Ugga froze, then panic filled him as he recalled all the tales of fearsome dragons.
He forced a strained smile on his face, saying awkwardly to Garon, "Noble true dragon, Ugga Smashbone was just passing by, with no ill intent."
While speaking, he subtly tried to hide his wooden club behind him, but it only made his intentions more obvious.
Garon turned his head, and his body followed, facing the creature directly.
Nine feet tall, humanoid, with dark, rough skin, powerfully built with muscles all over, black eyes with white pupils, reeking of blood, wearing simple tanned hides, and holding a large, blood-stained dark wooden club.
Upon being discovered, the ogre muttered something in a language Garon didn't understand.
Dragon heritage included only Draconic and the common tongue; the ogre, a large humanoid, spoke Giant, which Garon did not understand, hence he didn't comprehend the words.
After speaking, the ogre still squeezed out an extremely ugly smile.
"Smile, your mother!" Garon was infuriated, the last time he was this angry was... well, the last time.
With no trace of friendliness on his face, he instantly spread his wings and approached, opening his mouth to unleash a ferocious blast of frost breath.
Many think of dragon breath as a typical ability of dragons, a standard move like tail sweeps or wing flaps, or some dragon spell-like abilities.
But this is a misconception.
Dragon breath is not a common skill but a potent, difficult-to-resist signature dragon move, akin to an ultimate attack.
Even adult dragons can't maintain continuous dragon breath for long.
Garon went all out from the start.
Under the terrified gaze of the ogre, the cone-shaped frost breath instantly engulfed the ogre's body, freezing him solid within a thick layer of ice.
