Dragon King's Harem Chapter 484. Dinner
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 484. Dinner
Monsters were everywhere in this part of the ridge. But not all of them were edible.
Some were all bone and rage. Too stringy. Too bitter. You kill one and all you get is a sour soup and regret.
What I needed was bulk. Fat. Muscle. Something that wouldn’t poison an entire recovery district if we stewed it wrong.
I let my Dragon’s Vision do its thing again. Scanning mana currents. Smell. Ambient sounds.
Bingo.
[Target Locked]
[Name: Snowhorn Mammock]
[Level: 66]
[Classification: Beast / Aggressive]
[Weakness: Legs, Underside]
My smile cracked across my face like fire in the snow.
“You’ll do.”
I dropped altitude and banked left. Followed the trail through broken trees and a path of half-frozen droppings the size of wine bottles. The scent hit next—musty, coppery, and sharp. Like something that had been eating frost wolves and hadn’t learned to chew.
And then I saw it.
The Snowhorn Mammock towered at least twelve meters tall. Four tusks, like icicle-covered battering rams, curved from its thick, plated jaw. Its hide shimmered with layers of bone-fused fur, thick enough to turn steel unless angled right. Two sets of glowing blue eyes blinked slowly beneath a mound of scars and snow-crusted armor plates. Its breath came out in steaming clouds. Its claws raked across boulders as it stomped forward, snorting like it owned this frozen valley.
“Nightmare,” I murmured, raising my hand.
[Weapon Summoned: Nightmare]
The sword materialized in my grip with a hiss of embers. It was long, obsidian black, glowing with subtle crimson lines that pulsed with my heartbeat.
“Alright,” I whispered. “Let’s do this the clean way.”
I lowered myself to the ground silently, wings folding tight behind me as my boots touched snow. No full skills this time. No flashy finishers.
Just sword, reflexes, and some fancy footwork.
Before I charged, I pulled up my palm and activated Magic Messenger.
“Send message to Al,” I said.
A small dragon—ink black, the size of my palm—popped into existence with a quiet squeak. It fluttered its wings, eyes glowing with faint blue light.
“Tell Al to get ready to cut and process this beast. I’ll drop the body in the palace garden. He’ll need tools and some clean shadow manipulation to carve it fast. And tell him it’s got a lot of bone plates. He’ll need precision.”
The dragon nodded once, saluted with a wing, and zipped off into the sky.
I exhaled, tightened my grip on the sword, and stepped forward.
The moment I moved, the Mammock turned.
Its nostrils flared. Its tusks clanked as it swung its head like a mace. And then—
It charged.
Snow exploded beneath its claws. The ground rumbled. Trees snapped behind it as it stormed forward like a living avalanche of hunger and bone.
I moved.
Not backward. Not up.
Side.
‘Shadow Walk.’
I blinked to the right, avoiding the full weight of its tusks by inches. My boots dug into the snow as I twisted mid-air and slashed downward.
-CLANG!
My blade bit, but barely—caught against one of the thicker hide plates near its shoulder.
Tough bastard.
The beast roared, twisted, and brought its tail sweeping toward me like a frozen whip.
I ducked under it. Rolled through the snow. Came up again and dashed forward.
“Legs,” I muttered.
I darted beneath its belly—closer than I wanted—and struck.
The blade found softer tissue near the inner thigh. Not enough to bleed it out, but enough to make it stumble.
The Mammock let out a guttural roar and rose up on two legs.
Bad idea.
I leapt.
My wings flared and boosted me high enough to meet its throat. My sword plunged deep into the underside of its chin.
-CRACK!
The heat from Nightmare’s blade burst through its hide, vaporizing snow and fur around the wound. Blood splashed across my arms, boiling as it hit my gauntlets.
The beast stumbled back, legs buckling.
I landed, skidded, then turned fast.
Last strike.
I charged forward and drove the sword straight through its chest—angled slightly, just beneath the sternum.
The roar died in its throat.
It dropped.
Like a boulder falling from heaven, the Snowhorn Mammock collapsed into the ice with a thunderous crash that echoed through the valley.
Snow rolled. Birds fled. Trees groaned.
I stood there, panting slightly, one hand on the hilt of my embedded sword.
Steam rose from its corpse. Blood pooled. But the meat?
Perfect.
I pulled my blade free, flicked the excess gore into the snow, and muttered, “One down.”
I looked back toward the direction of the palace—still far but within wing distance.
Well… I could still drag this bastard back myself.
But as I stood there, wind cutting across my face, blood warming my gloves, breath fogging against the morning sun—
I felt good.
Cold.
But good.
Because for once, I wasn’t here to kill for war.
I was here to kill for dinner.
For survival.
For that small, quiet smile Kaelen gave his mother before she lifted him into the air.
I cancelled my Mana Weapon and grabbed the nearest tusk.
Time to bring the beast home.
But dragging a twelve-meter corpse across a frozen forest wasn’t exactly efficient. Or subtle. And honestly, I didn’t feel like tearing up the snowline more than I already had.
So I exhaled, rolled my shoulders, and raised my hand.
[Telekinesis – Full Weight Channeling]
[Mana Cost: High]
[Control Requirement: Extreme]
My veins pulsed with magic as I focused, locking onto the beast’s mass. Not just the tusk in my hand—but the entire creature. Bones. Blood. Muscles. Those stupidly heavy armor-like scales.
It rose. Slowly. Groaning like a mountain reluctantly choosing to float. The corpse hovered several meters off the ground, wobbling slightly at first until I adjusted the pressure under the limbs and spine.
The weight settled in my aura like a second skeleton strapped to my back.
Sweat pricked along my neck.
I flared my wings and took off.
The wind slammed into me, colder now with the altitude, but I didn’t stop. The beast floated behind me like a cursed balloon, swaying with each shift in air pressure. Birds scattered. Trees bent. I flew in a wide arc back toward the palace, the city rooftops reappearing below, soldiers pointing, citizens peeking from alley cracks.
And then I dipped low into the central garden.