The distinction between pure-blooded dragons and lesser draconic breeds.

It is not merely a matter of bloodline.

But also the possession of a True Name.

Dragons without True Names remain nothing but mindless beasts—incapable of awakening their ancestral memories or wielding the exclusive magics of dragonkind.

Rex Santos was a noble pure-blooded red dragon.

On the day of its birth, the Dragon Isle of Arlon echoed with its juvenile yet ambitious roar—soft in volume but grand in aspiration, drawing the attention of countless elder wyrms:

"I am the King of All Dragons!"

"The Hellish Wings That Shall Conquer the World!"

"Rex Santos Astarte Nesario Akenologia Kakarogita!"

"World, bear witness to my arrival!!"

Well said, and full of spirit.

The ancient dragons, having lived for untold ages, nodded in approval. A dragon ought to be arrogant—what kind of dragon would it be otherwise?

Then.

They beat Rex Santos senseless.

From that day forth, the young red dragon learned a valuable lesson: arrogance was fine, but knowing when to cower was equally important.

Dragons have little familial attachment.

What drives them is the pursuit of power, an insatiable greed for treasure, and an obsessive craving for glory.

In short.

Every pure-blooded dragon aspires to stand atop the world.

And views its kin as rivals.

Even a hatchling that so much as hints at such ambitions will receive a most "loving" education.

"Damn those old fossils!" Deep within a dry cavern on the outskirts of the Dragon Isle, the young red dragon curled up, its slit pupils burning with resentment.

It made a vow.

One day.

It would outlive every last one of those ancient wyrms.

Why not challenge them directly? Because the red dragon feared it might lose.

"I, Rex Santos, am invincible!!!" After this self-encouragement, the dragon promptly fell into a deep slumber.

Pure-blooded dragons are true ageless beings.

Their lifespans stretch across millennia.

Their growth is painfully slow.

From hatching to full maturity, centuries—if not millennia—pass.

By that same measure, waiting for a dragon to die of old age requires even more patience.

Rex Santos had assumed it would take thousands of years to outlive the elder dragons. But reality had other plans.

The gods waged war over faith.

Races clashed in endless conflict.

Blood and fire consumed the world.

In the cataclysmic war that followed, the Golden Dragon God emerged as one of the rulers of the celestial realm.

Dragonkind, however, suffered devastating losses—only a handful of elders and younger dragons like Rex Santos remained.

"Those old things…"

The red dragon scratched its scaly head with a claw, sending sparks flying, its expression dazed. "They’re all… dead?"

Its draconic gaze swept across the endless wasteland of ruins, where gray flames raged, painting a scene of utter desolation.

Blood formed rivers.

Bones piled into mountains.

Countless souls streamed into the underworld.

It was happy—for it was now one of the few pure-blooded dragons left on the isle.

The time to reign supreme had come.

Yet it was silent, unsure how to process the devastation before it.

Lying at the heart of the Dragon Isle, it stared at the azure sky, the images of the fallen gods and the elder dragons flashing through its mind. Strangely, it didn’t feel as triumphant as it had expected.

"Fools! This hoard is MINE!"

"Come, let us battle!"

"My claws grow sharper, stronger, fiercer—none shall stand before me!"

The distant roars snapped Rex Santos back to reality. The remaining dragons were fighting over the treasures of the deceased.

At this realization.

The red dragon could no longer stay idle.

With a furious flap of its wings, it charged into the fray, bellowing: "Out of my way! These treasures belong to ME!!!"

Grief was forgotten.

The red dragon’s eyes had transformed into the shape of gold coins.

Many years passed.

Time tempered the dragon, and Rex Santos entered its prime—its scales vast and unyielding, its visage fearsome, its breath capable of reducing all to ash.

It had achieved its childhood dreams.

Wealth, piled into mountains.

Status, the pinnacle of dragonkind.

Power, second only to the Saints and the gods themselves.

It all felt like a dream.

To the red dragon, it had merely taken a few long naps, and before it knew it, the world had changed around it.

Rex Santos was content with this life.

Eat.

Sleep.

When bored, raid human kingdoms for loot.

What more could a dragon ask for?

Its ambitions were simple—perhaps, if fortune favored it, the Dragon God might grant it a minor divine title.

Even the weakest god was eternal.

Then.

It could sleep forever.

But that dream shattered the day the celestial realm collapsed, the gods perished, and a terrifying figure stood atop their corpses.

"It’s… it’s HER!!!"

The red dragon instinctively prostrated itself.

Trembling.

Its expression drained of color.

Above, the stars dimmed into nothingness as the Witch’s presence plunged the heavens into an abyssal night.

Yet her eyes burned.

Cold, golden orbs gazed down from the void, and with a single glance, Rex Santos fainted on the spot.

"WAH! Spare me, great one!"

The dragon wept as it collapsed.

When it awoke, the world had changed beyond recognition.

Rex Santos had planned to rally the remaining dragons and carve out a draconic empire in this new, godless world.

But before it could act, a surge of spacetime energy whisked it away.

Transported to Earth.

Crushed beneath Li Wanshou’s finger.

Gently tapped by Xu Xi.

Drained of blood by the Five Supreme Ones.

Life on Earth was… eventful.

At least, that’s how Rex Santos described it to Xu Xi: "Splendid! Marvelous! Earth is paradise—I’ve forgotten all about the Dragon God!"

The words were half-true.

It longed to escape, yet couldn’t resist the treasures and elixirs offered by Earth’s inhabitants.

"A Demigod…"

"I’ve become a Demigod…"

"If I just leech a bit more from these Dragon Speakers, I’ll ascend to godhood and flee!"

"The cosmos is vast—anywhere is home!"

With a haughty snort, the dragon marched into its treasure hall.

Its wings spread, gathering gold coins into a makeshift pillow.

"Hehehe… my precious hoard~" Rex Santos giggled foolishly before burying its head in the mountain of riches and drifting into slumber.

This was its private domain.

Its Demigod sanctuary.

In recent years, the red dragon had gathered many lesser dragons, easing its blood-donation duties while amassing faith for its ascension.

Yet to this day.

No other dragon—nor human—had ever set foot in this treasure vault.

Except Xu Xi and the Five Supreme Ones.

Because Rex Santos couldn’t refuse them.

"Wait, no!" The dragon jolted awake. It was a majestic, peerless red dragon—how could it succumb to such laziness?

Merely feeling drowsy, and it had dozed off?

Unacceptable.

With a huff, it scrambled up and dragged over a colossal crystal from the corner—gleaming, radiant, and utterly irresistible.

And thus.

The Red Dragon was finally satisfied.

Contentedly clutching the crystal pillar, it rested its head upon mountains of gold and seas of silver, drifting into a deep slumber amidst its vast hoard of treasures.

Pure bliss~~