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“Dolo.”

Cassius called the next name.

As the military chief of Ember Nest and the designer of defensive structures like the trenches, fences, gates, and guard towers within Rock Fortress, Dolo indeed needed a strength boost for protection.

Dolo let out a sigh of relief.

At least this proved that his position in Ember Nest hadn’t diminished too much—after all, his love for power often outstripped even his fervor for war.

Dolo climbed onto the boulder, kneeling on one knee as he awaited his turn.

Blood flowed into his mouth.

Intense heat.

This was Dolo’s only sensation.

The blood entered his throat like scalding lava, roiling and scorching every inch of his body, and he finally understood Langpuo’s agony.

Yet, trembling all over, he maintained his kneeling posture, gritting his teeth so hard he nearly shattered them.

“I won’t die here.”

“I’ll climb higher—higher than that dumb ogre, at least.”

This was the sole thought in Dolo’s mind.

His skin, originally crimson, now glowed with a translucent red as the scorching elemental energy seeped through, faintly emitting a reddish glow.

His body pulsed rhythmically.

Each heartbeat, each breath pumped the dragon’s blood throughout his form; through his now slightly translucent skin, one could even see his pulsing veins.

“It might have a stronger effect on non-dragon-blooded creatures.”

Cassius observed Dolo’s transformation calmly, making a mental note.

“Ah——”

Finally, unable to endure the burning heat, Dolo let out a scream.

His body began to swell, with scale-like protrusions emerging beneath his skin.

As his screams grew more guttural, Dolo’s form expanded rapidly before their eyes.

His height shot from about 1.8 meters to 2.5 meters, with crimson scales ripping through his fragile skin, emitting white steam as they were exposed to the air.

“Huff, huff…”

He parted his mouth slightly, exhaling wisps of white smoke.

His once long, yellow teeth now gleamed as sharp as dragon’s fangs.

The scales spread across his face, creating ridges around his ears that fused into the scales on his cheeks, while two small protruding horns grew from his forehead.

A dragon-blooded hobgoblin had been born.

His body had undergone a dramatic transformation, with a substantial increase in strength, his physique now on par with an ordinary ogre.

However, as a creature more inclined to legion warfare, he had not gained fire breath. Instead, he could now cast the cantrip “Fire Bolt” and had developed a dense coat of scales for added protection and heat resistance.

Originally, Dolo’s lifespan was similar to a human’s, with many hobgoblins never living long enough to die of natural causes due to their love of warfare. Now, however, he had become a “long-lived species,” with an extended lifespan of about three hundred years—though this was still brief by dragon standards.

[Dragon-Blooded Hobgoblin Commander]

Challenge Rating: 7 (2900 xp)

“Thank you for your generous blessing.”

“I can’t wait to taste the blood of enemies on the battlefield.”

Dolo panted heavily.

His already red face flushed with excitement.

Dolo could feel an unprecedented surge of power within him, and as a creature with an innate love of war, he had a powerful urge to unleash this energy on the battlefield.

“Not bad.”

Cassius remarked.

With no spells to aid him, Dolo’s growth was already remarkable.

“Smawg.”

Cassius announced the next name.

The largest wyvern among them heard the call and was immediately thrilled.

Drooling with anticipation, it hopped onto the boulder, propping itself up with its wing bones and rhythmically swaying its barbed, venomous tail.

This name was, of course, not native to this world, but rather a small indulgence of Cassius’ dark humor.

After “killing the chicken to scare the monkeys,” he had appointed the largest remaining wyvern to take charge as the new leader of the pack.

As creatures of low intelligence, wyverns typically had no names.

Seeing this wyvern bracing itself on its front limbs reminded him of the iconic Smaug from movies in his previous life, and so he had whimsically given it that name.

The wyvern called “Smawg” cawed excitedly, with saliva dripping onto the stone.

These creatures, with a blend of dragon and griffin blood, eagerly coveted the true dragon’s bloodline.

The blood merged into its mouth.

Leaning on its wings, the wyvern emitted low growls.

Although it already had dragon blood, that bloodline had been diluted over countless generations, leaving it a pale remnant compared to the true dragon’s gift of blood.

Thus, as the raging elemental energy flooded its body, the beast was still wracked with pain.

As the blood churned within, the wyvern rolled over on the stone.

It let out a series of shrill, piercing cries.

The sound was jarring, like the screech of metal fragments grinding together, making the watching creatures wince.

The wyvern’s body swelled visibly.

Growing from over five meters to over six, it continued expanding until it reached just over seven meters before stopping.

Its mucus-covered, wrinkled skin sprouted hard, crimson scales, and the fleshy protrusions morphed into bony spikes, while its maw, which once only emitted foul sludge, could now spew scorching fire.

The wyvern now bore a closer resemblance to a true dragon.

Yet, it still retained its slim, front-limbed stance.

[Atavistic Wyvern]

Challenge Rating: 8 (3900 xp)

“Good; at least it won’t get easily beaten by the North Wind Eagles anymore.”

Cassius commented, expressionless.

The wyvern spat flames into the sky before hopping down from the boulder, proudly lifting its head among its fellows. Fitting for a creature known as a beast.

By now, there was little dragon blood left in the shallow pit.

Only a thin layer remained.

The blood moved gently.

Its scent was enticingly pungent.

According to the previous standard, there was just enough for one more blessing.

At this moment, a thousand pairs of eyes in the valley were locked on that remaining blood, each creature breathing heavily, their gazes intense with anticipation, almost aflame.

Having witnessed several transformations, this blood had become an undisputed symbol of power.

Though the transformation was painful, what was that compared to the allure of immense power?

Now, with Ember Nest’s highest-ranked members already blessed…

Could they too have a chance at the spoils?

Silence continued to blanket the valley, yet the breathing grew heavier, and the pounding heartbeats became more pronounced, like a series of deep drumbeats.

Beads of sweat trickled down the foreheads of the bear goblins, dripping onto their fur and pooling at the corners of their eyes, yet none dared blink, their gazes locked onto that pool of blood.

In a darkened corner, the lizardfolk stood motionless, watching from afar, silently observing, their eyes fixed on the blood as if dead.

The wyverns stretched their necks, slightly parting their mouths, saliva oozing from either side, with a fierce longing glistening in their menacing eyes.

Who would be the lucky one?

They all waited in eager anticipation.