David realized only after bursting out of his lair that he had not woken at the most opportune time. It was the middle of winter outside. The north of the Old Continent was inherently cold; by David's estimation, it had to be at least minus fifty or sixty degrees Celsius, akin to Siberia in January. A glance around revealed a landscape draped in ice and snow, a world of silvery whiteness. This was not a season that dragons, especially Red Dragons, enjoyed.
Should have slept for a few more months, David muttered, clicking his tongue. But now that he was awake, his rumbling stomach wasn't so easily quieted.
However, after much searching, let alone finding larger prey like bears or elk, he couldn't even spot two rabbits. It took a great deal of effort before David, using his forked tongue, located a burrow inhabited by a colony of groundhogs. But when it came time to cook this 'beggar's banquet' of groundhogs, he misjudged the flame, and the entire bunch, along with their burrow, turned to charcoal.
Perhaps because he had used a bit of Dragon Breath, David, having failed to feast on warm meat, felt even hungrier. There was no choice but to munch on a few mouthfuls of snow to suppress the hunger. In the meantime, David also figured out why, after billions of years, Blue Star had never evolved any species with fire-breathing organs. Simply put, the energy consumption was far too high.
He did a simple calculation using high school chemistry equations from his past life. Suppose he wanted to cook a three-pound rabbit until its internal temperature reached 74 degrees Celsius. He recalled that the specific heat capacity of rabbit meat was approximately 2.9 joules per gram degree Celsius (J/g°C). The energy required would be 1,500 grams × 2.9 J/g°C × (74-25)°C, which was approximately 214,650 joules, or 51.3 kilocalories.
Every 100 grams of rabbit meat contained roughly 20.8 grams of protein and 5.6 grams of fat. Protein and fat had energy densities of 4 and 9 kilocalories per gram, respectively. This meant it would yield 1,248 kilocalories from protein and 756 kilocalories from fat, totaling 2,004 kilocalories.
In other words, damn it! Eating such a cooked rabbit, without accounting for any energy conversion losses, would only net him about two thousand kilocalories. Just getting it half-cooked would cost the energy equivalent of half a spicy rabbit head! But how could that be possible? That last gout of Dragon Breath had probably not only incinerated the entire groundhog colony, clearing out their whole family tree, but it still wouldn't have been enough to recoup the energy spent. This didn't even take into account the energy he expended finding and capturing his prey!
With such an abysmal return on investment, he'd lose a couple of pounds of fat just running a spicy rabbit head stall!
Therefore, David came to a somewhat irritating conclusion: He either had to stop breathing fire, choosing instead to eat raw, frozen meat and go fishing like the White Dragons, or he had to ignore these small, innocent animals—which would only leave him starving—and go straight for larger prey. Preferably, prey that traveled in herds.
His instincts as a Red Dragon made him completely dismiss the former idea. So, the question remained: where could he find prey in herds?
David's bright yellow eyes, conspicuous in the snowy terrain, narrowed slightly. In his mind, it seemed as if he could hear the rhythmic narration of Zhao Zhongxiang, the famous nature show host, once more:
"In the cold northern winter, herds of wild herbivores usually choose places with ample food sources, shelter, and relative safety to spend the winter. Therefore, valleys hidden beneath the snow, which offer protection from harsh weather and help conserve energy, become the preferred choice for most of these herbivores..."
The Red Dragon launched himself into the air, scanning the surroundings from an altitude of three thousand meters, then flew straight towards the most prominent valley to the north. As David approached, he indeed saw herds of yaks gathered together. Falling snowflakes had piled thickly on their backs, making them resemble giant cotton candies from a distance.
Indeed! Animal World has not deceived me!
The dazzling Red Dragon immediately folded his billowing wings and, accompanied by the blizzard, dove towards the valley. It was as if the enticing aromas of Argentinian barbecue, sizzling steaks, and spicy beef tripe... were already wafting up to meet him! He was like a husky charging into a flock of sheep.
"YEE-HAW!!!"
「Deep within the Northern Dense Forests, territory of the Rosinde tribe of Highland Barbarians.」
In a castle, a curious amalgamation of ancient ruins and crude modifications, the Rosinde clan was solemnly conducting its trade with a delegation of High Elf envoys—an event that occurred only once every few years. This was the most significant occasion for all the tribes in the Northland; no one, including young Rosinde, dared treat it lightly. The outcome of this irregular trade could very well determine their tribe's long-term prosperity and military reserves for years to come, even tipping the balance of power with neighboring factions.
The content of the trade was simple. The High Elves brought them weapons, armor, various crafts, spices, standardized gold and silver currency, and the alchemical potions—products of magic—that they coveted most. The people of the Northland provided the High Elves with processed furs, metal ores, and collected and dried dragon dung.
Yes, dragon dung.
Heaven only knew why these proud High Elves were interested in something primarily used to repel wild beasts, yet they offered a handsome price for it. Although collecting it risked provoking a Dragon's wrath if discovered, they were Barbarians. Nomadic raiding was their way of life, and they never lacked for warriors.
In the eyes of the Highland Barbarians, although the Elves before them appeared frail as bean sprouts, the barbarians had never mustered the courage to attack them. And in the eyes of most Northlanders, the High Elves were a symbol of civilization, strength, magic, and nobility, akin to envoys from the heavens. After all, it wasn't surprising, as the very fortress they inhabited still bore the indelible marks of Elven carvings. This meant that these 'bean sprouts,' as the barbarians thought of them, had been the masters of this land many years ago. It was just that, for some unknown reason, the Elves had moved their entire race overseas, to a place so distant that one could sail for seven days and nights without sighting a coastline. Thus, rumors spread that they had journeyed to the realm of the gods.
Given these vastly unequal circumstances, the valuation of the barbarians' goods was often pushed extremely low. It was common for a single fine-quality axe to be exchanged for ten of their able-bodied slaves. But they had no choice but to accept it. After all, many of them believed that if Katjana weren't so bitterly cold and barren, they likely wouldn't even be permitted to live on this land.
However, even so, young Rosinde, the chieftain's successor, felt an unidentifiable annoyance and resentment. The entire clan's accumulated wealth from several years was traded for just a few vials of Anger Potion, a dozen or so axes, some decorative trinkets with no practical use, and a small chest of Elven silver coins. But since his uncle, the chieftain, and the other clansmen voiced no objections, he, naturally, could not express any.
Just as the trade concluded, the High Elf officer, who had remained silent throughout the proceedings, suddenly seemed to recall something. He turned back to them and said, "I have another deal that I wonder if you might be interested in?
"As for the compensation, we will pay double the goods from this trade afterwards."
As soon as these words were spoken, all the Barbarians present widened their eyes, and audible gulps prompted by shock and greed could be heard.
Rosinde immediately had a bad feeling. An offer this high definitely means trouble, he thought.
Just as he was about to intervene, his uncle, the old Chieftain Rosinde, had already agreed, "We'll take this deal. What do our esteemed guests require? Or what would you have us do for you?"
The High Elf raised a slender finger and said with a smile, "A Dragon.
"My team has recently been troubled by a Dragon.
"I need you to capture it for me.
"I want it alive."