Chapter 527 - 330: Migrant Worker Dragons

Chapter 527: Chapter 330: Migrant Worker Dragons

"Is this a custom of your Dragon Race?" Asmodis asked, a little confused. "Showing their bellies... I’m guessing it’s a sign of friendliness?"

To be honest, if it weren’t for the wings on the creatures before him, he would have thought they were Hellhounds asking for belly rubs.

’Wait, don’t tell me Dragons like to be petted too?’

"Ahem, uh..." Furin was at a loss for words.

A few of the bolder tourists were already reaching out curious hands toward the adult Green Dragon before them.

Scales could actually feel touch, much like a tortoise’s shell. Vibrations travel through the keratinous layer to the skin underneath.

So yes, Dragons did quite enjoy being petted.

It was one of nature’s wonderful little coincidences. Many creatures love having a good scratch, and humans happen to have hands that are perfect for the job—a job they also happen to enjoy.

When a tourist’s hand touched the back of the Green Dragon’s neck, it didn’t react aggressively at all. Instead, it cooperatively tilted its head.

"Whoa, this is so cool!" exclaimed the tourist who had successfully petted the Green Dragon, his voice filled with disbelief.

’The Green Dragon, said to be the most cunning and rebellious in all of legend, was letting him pet it just like that!’

Once he said that, all the tourists who had been too afraid to reach out now extended their hands, eager to experience the feeling of petting a Dragon. It was a joyous scene.

Zog slowly descended from mid-air. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it seemed like the scales of those few Dragons had been polished to a glossy sheen, as if from being handled so much.

’I take back my earlier judgment about them refusing a kindness.’

’They’re actually quite savvy.’

It was a safe bet that news of a friendly group of Dragons appearing in Deepwater City would be making all the headlines.

Who could refuse a close encounter with the rarely seen Dragons?

Zog could already guess that this group of Dragons had likely come to seek refuge with him.

The Dragon Race banding together for safety had happened before during more dangerous periods in history.

’But are things really that dangerous right now?’

Although there was a chance of war breaking out, conflicts between those nations shouldn’t have much to do with Dragons.

Capturing Dragons for mounts wasn’t in fashion anymore. It had certainly happened in the past, but experience had shown that using Dragons as mounts was not a good choice.

Dragons were a little too intelligent; they wouldn’t charge forward recklessly in a battle.

Hesitating in battle was, in fact, a sign of a sharp mind.

Zog landed. He waited until the people had had their fill of interacting with the Dragons before speaking. "My dear friends, did you enjoy the surprise I had for you?"

"We loved it!" the tourists shouted back.

Although they had been scared stiff for Zog’s sake just moments ago, once they determined there was no danger, it truly became a surprise.

"But all good things must come to an end. It’s time to say goodbye to your new friends."

He then turned to the beleaguered adult Dragons who were putting on a show and said in the Dragon Language, "Follow me."

The banquet was out of the question now. The top priority was figuring out exactly why these Dragons were here.

Zog led the whole group, young and old, and flew outside the city. He told Furin their destination so she could teleport there.

「A few minutes later, in a clearing in the outskirts.」

The entire ragtag flock of Dragons landed.

Only now did Zog get a clear look at them. The Dragons were of all different colors and sizes. With a single glance, he could see they had a full set of Five-Color Dragons, several types of Metal Dragons, and even a few half-breeds. It was almost impossible for them to be a single family.

While it wasn’t unheard of for Dragons of different types to form families, it was a very niche practice among them.

After all, it was quite common for Dragons of different colors to look down on one another.

As for this "patchwork" group of Dragons, they shared a strange commonality: they all seemed a bit frail and thin for their respective ages.

And it wasn’t just an isolated case; the entire group was collectively emaciated.

’What’s going on?’

’Have Dragons really fallen to the point of being malnourished?’

’This is just too tragic.’

"Why," Zog began, taking the initiative, "did you trespass on my territory?"

The leader of the Dragon flock appeared to be the same Green Dragon who had interacted so enthusiastically with the tourists.

On his ferocious draconic face, he managed to squeeze out the most fawning expression Zog had ever seen a Dragon make.

It was even more sycophantic than the look Doudou got when asking to see a manga that hadn’t been released yet.

’No doubt about it, they’re definitely here to ask for a favor.’

’And probably not an easy one, either.’

"Ahem, uh, great Zog."

"You don’t have to call me that. It sounds weird. Just call me Mr. Zhuoge, or Zog is fine."

From an age perspective, he was their elder by several generations, but Zog didn’t like such overly formal terms of address.

Having "great" tacked onto the front of his name was unsettling; it felt like Doudou was crawling all over him.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Zhuoge. We implore you to take in our group of homeless Dragons," the Green Dragon said, stammering out his request with a hint of nervousness.

His two front claws twisted together, their talons making a sharp SCRAPING sound.

They had clearly taken a great risk in coming to find Zog.

For complete strangers to request to join a territory was an extremely rare event.

"Hmm..."

Although Zog had already guessed their purpose, he was still a little surprised to hear it stated so directly.

"Setting aside the Juvenile Dragons for a moment—the young certainly deserve to be cared for—but why do you, the sub-adults and adults, want to join my territory?"

He truly couldn’t think of a reason. Logically speaking, Dragons were creatures that intensely craved territories of their own.

’Could the Dragon Race have multiplied to the point that in a world this big, there aren’t enough territories to go around?’

Hearing Zog’s question, the Green Dragon couldn’t help but give a bitter smile. "We can no longer survive in the wild."

"Huh?" That answer was definitely not what Zog had expected. "Are Dragons... really having such a miserable time these days?"

"It’s not just us. In fact, most Dragons aren’t doing well right now. I already know of several wandering flocks of Dragons. The survival rate for Juvenile Dragons is low, too. Our group originally had twenty juveniles."