For the kobolds, getting to witness—up close—the majestic presence that could set their blood boiling should've been a moment of glory.
But right now, this place was hell.
Fire.
Everywhere they looked was dragonflame so hot it warped the air.
Even a single touch was enough—it clung to them like a venomous serpent, crawling across their bodies. No matter how the kobolds rolled on the ground, it wouldn't go out.
In just a few seconds, that terrifying flame could burn them down into a pile of black ash.
"The dragon's here!"
"Run!"
Faced with a dragon and the certainty of death, the kobolds—dazed and numb from endless labor—finally snapped awake. They threw down their picks and scrambled away, tumbling and crawling in every direction.
Up on the dragon's back, Gauss watched the numbers on his monster log climb rapidly, his eyes cold and unpitying.
"Kobold Slain ×12"
"Kobold Slain ×24"
"Kobold Slain ×15"
"…"
The notifications kept refreshing in front of him.
He couldn't help thinking: in terrain like this, Hephaestus could rack up kills at terrifying speed.
Its breath had grown far stronger than when he first met it.
Not only was the temperature higher—its burn lasted longer, and it was harder to extinguish.
It would keep burning until the target was reduced to ash.
Inside the mine, more high-ranking kobolds seemed to sense the chaos outside and came rushing out.
Almost immediately, they spotted the colossal beast circling overhead.
That dragon was dazzling—beautiful beyond words.
If it weren't burning their home to the ground, they might've fallen to their knees on instinct.
"It's a red dragon!"
Once they recognized it, despair flickered across their faces.
If it were any other creature, they might not have felt so hopeless.
But why did it have to be a dragon?
"Prepare for battle!"
Amid the panicked crowd, a small, elderly kobold floated out—legs crossed in midair—holding a golden candle burning with flame.
Its appearance seemed to rekindle a sliver of hope in the others.
Right—there was still their chieftain!
If it was the chieftain, then maybe…
What they didn't notice was that their chieftain's face had turned heavier and heavier as it stared at a certain figure riding on the dragon's back.
The tribe only saw the terror of the dragon-beast that was setting the valley ablaze.
But the chieftain knew the truth:
The rider was the real nightmare.
Of course, it couldn't say that out loud—if it did, the tribe would collapse into total despair.
After drawing a deep breath, it looked at the commanders who were hurriedly gathering the elite.
The chieftain couldn't help shaking its head inwardly.
They looked like they'd recovered some confidence, but every one of them was rattled.
It knew it would have to handle that man and that dragon itself. These subordinates wouldn't be much help.
With that thought, the golden candle's flame suddenly blossomed wider.
Tongues of fire clung to its scales, making its hunched, small frame feel imposing—almost regal.
Under the tribe's gaze, the chieftain—carrying all their hope—rose higher into the air.
Go, chieftain!
Defeat that monster!
Eyes full of desperate hope locked onto it.
Up on the dragon's back, Gauss had been steering Hephaestus toward the densest clusters of kobolds when he noticed a floating figure in the distance.
Under his golden dragon eyes, the target's mana presence was… decent.
But only decent.
With no real interest in it, he continued to trigger Rider in sync with Hephaestus, slaughtering kobolds below.
Even when some kobolds tumbled down the slope—lucky enough to dodge the sweeping flames—Gauss would lock on and finish them with Magic Missile.
When the kobold chieftain realized Gauss had glanced at it—then casually looked away to keep massacring miners—the chieftain's eyes flared with anger.
It felt the contempt.
It had ruled nearly three thousand kobolds. It was used to dominance.
Now—being dismissed like this—its raging fury quickly drowned out whatever caution it had left about the enemy's strength.
"You'll pay for that!"
It lowered its gaze to the golden candle it cradled.
This wasn't an ordinary candle.
It was a special magic item—one that let it unleash powerful flames at a fraction of the usual cost.
But each use came with serious backlash.
That was why, most of the time, it used similar-looking replicas just for show.
It only brought out this true weapon in a handful of battles—and every time, it won.
The enemies who made it use the candle were never weak.
They just all made the same mistake: arrogance.
Seeing an old, bent, naturally timid kobold, none of them treated it as a true threat—until it revealed strength far beyond its appearance.
By then, it was too late.
And this was its home turf.
Under its orders, the kobolds nearby scattered.
"Heh… heh… heh…"
As if already seeing Gauss die in its imagination, it chuckled to itself.
Gauss, in the sky, knew none of this.
And honestly—right now, a commander-grade kobold wasn't as important as the sheer mass of miners below.
"Total Monster Kills: 29,212"
Like harvesting leeks, the kobolds were dying in sheets.
Hephaestus looked utterly domineering—especially with the aura of "true dragon" pressure layered on top of Gauss's own purer-than-a-dragon-beast presence.
Against a species that worshiped dragons by instinct, it was psychologically lethal.
Gauss even suspected that if he weren't here to slaughter them—if he came with the intent to subjugate—there was a real chance these creatures might kneel to him.
At least the bottom-tier miner kobolds probably would.
Kobolds, even among monsters, were some of the biggest fence-sitters alive.
Monster lords didn't respect their combat power, but they rarely exterminated them—because kobolds could mine.
And for the miners, a change of master was normal. Routine.
Unfortunately, Gauss could never become a "monster lord."
That would paint a target on his back.
As he kept harvesting, the kill count climbed faster.
…
"Total Monster Kills: 29,522"
"Total Monster Kills: 29,611"
Those surging numbers weren't just from him.
Outside the valley, kobolds trying to flee ran straight into Red Dragon Company ambush teams stationed at the exits.
On paper, the company-wide kill-sharing rate was around 20%—not high.
But in practice it was much higher, because Alia, Shadow, and Gauss's clay summons shared at 100%, while Serandur and Albena shared at about 50%. That dragged the overall percentage up hard.
By Gauss's rough sense, the real figure had to be above 60%.
As for the portion that didn't sync—he didn't regret it.
Because without those intercept teams, many kobolds would've escaped. That would've been the real waste.
On a dirt mound, Ivan was burning hot.
Without realizing it, his pupils had shifted into a reptilian shape.
He stared up at Gauss riding the dragon and painting the mine in massacre, shock flashing deep in his eyes.
"So this is the captain's strength…"
Now he understood why Gauss had told everyone else to lock down the exits, and left the entire core battlefield to himself.
At first, Ivan had worried Gauss was being reckless.
But watching the valley turn into an inferno—
Watching kobolds collapse with zero resistance under dragon breath and spellfire—
Ivan realized his worry had been laughable.
The captain's strength was beyond anything he'd imagined.
A normal civilian might not understand how absurd this was.
But Ivan was a caster. He knew.
Spellcasting demanded focus. In most teams, the caster was the protected one—others bought them time and space to cast.
But casting while riding a dragon at high speed?
In Ivan's shallow understanding, it was impossible to stay focused—let alone cast flawlessly, and precisely lock onto individual targets.
Even thinking about it made his scalp go numb.
Yet the captain did it—calmly—throwing his signature rapid-fire Magic Missiles like a storm.
"Too strong…"
Ivan swallowed.
Then noise burst from below.
He looked down and saw dozens of kobolds sprinting toward them in panic.
They glanced toward the outside world with desperate hope.
"No chance."
Ivan tore his attention away from the sky. Admiring the captain could wait. His job came first.
Not a single kobold was leaving this place alive.
"Aim!"
He raised his arm.
On both sides, the pre-positioned action-team members braced walnut-stock crossbows into their shoulders, cheek pressed to smooth wood, one eye locked onto the oncoming shapes.
"Fire!"
At his command, metal triggers snapped.
Thunk.
Bowstrings cracked, bolts launched in a straight line, howling through the air into the kobold cluster.
Pff— almost instantly, the bolts punched through kobold bodies.
Against low-tier monsters, crossbows were deadly.
And the passageway wasn't wide—kobolds flooding out had nowhere to dodge.
Blood bursts bloomed across them.
Screams erupted as the front ranks fell.
The kobolds behind panicked—but didn't even know where the attackers were.
They tried to turn back—
"Burning Hands!"
Ivan blasted fire across the ground, igniting the oil they'd laid earlier.
Heat and flame cut off the retreat.
The action-team used the window to reload and crank their crossbows.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh!
Another volley.
More kobolds dropped.
"Acid Splash!"
Ivan layered in spells, and within moments the entire group was wiped out.
"Clear the field!"
"Drag the bodies out!"
As soon as the fight ended, Ivan immediately started directing cleanup.
They'd won so smoothly for several reasons.
First, the captain inside had already terrified the kobolds into breaking.
The ones trying to escape were already mentally shattered—they only wanted to run.
Second, they had the ambush, the terrain, the tools, and the numbers—all in their favor.
And then…
Ivan glanced down at his staff.
Casting felt too smooth.
Smooth in a way he almost didn't recognize.
He didn't believe he'd suddenly "awakened."
He'd been a caster for years. He knew his own limits.
So the only explanation was the Red Dragon Company—or more specifically, Captain Gauss.
He'd heard stories: under certain exceptional leaders, subordinates could fight above their normal limits. Morale could be gathered, sharpened, forged into a single will.
He hadn't expected it to be true.
Ivan's lips curved.
Maybe joining the Red Dragon Company really was the best decision of his life.
He stared into the now-cleared passageway, waiting for the next wave.
Even those ugly monsters looked almost… friendly now.
He wanted the chance to practice his magic again.
…
"Fireball!"
When Gauss spotted a hidden cluster of kobolds, he dropped a Fireball and buried them in the cave.
"Total Monster Kills: 30,055"
His total kills vaulted past 30,000.
"Total Monster Kills: 30055/30000. 30,000-kill Milestone Achieved."
"Reward: Level 4 illusion spell [True Phantasm]"
"Reward: Level 3 conjuration spell [Call Lightning]"
"Reward: Strength +1, Intelligence +1, Charisma +1"
Strength: 15 → 16
Dexterity: 15
Constitution: 16
Intelligence: 18 → 19
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 15 → 16
"Class feature [Spell Proficiency] upgraded to [Greater Spell Mastery]."
"Next Milestone: Total Monster Kills Reaches 50,000."
A familiar cascade of text filled Gauss's vision.
Then a new surge of power rolled through his body.
What delighted him most was that Intelligence was among the three boosted stats.
Of all attributes, Intelligence increased his overall power the most.
He felt his mana churn—fresh mana welling up, inexhaustible.
"Feels amazing."
He exhaled slowly, savoring it.
It had been worth going all-in to push past 30,000 as fast as possible.
At this moment, Hephaestus had already climbed back into the sky, so the immediate area was relatively safe.
And that old kobold chieftain?
It had been hiding in the shadows the whole time—but that didn't mean Gauss had stopped watching it.
It was preparing some kind of ritual.
Gauss skimmed the rest of the rewards.
He'd seen True Phantasm before—used against him.
A hallucination that could deal real damage. Dangerous.
Its power depended on how much mana he poured in—and how "real" he could make the illusion with his mind.
And as everyone knew, his mental strength was absurd, meaning this Level 4 spell fit him perfectly.
As for Call Lightning, it did exactly what the name promised: summon storm clouds, then bring down lightning.
Finally, Greater Spell Mastery.
He could feel something change deep in his awareness—when he thought of spells, inspiration bubbled up nonstop.
Thirty thousand kills had paid off.
But Gauss didn't stay lost in the reward rush.
He had Hephaestus descend toward the mine valley.
If he stayed disengaged too long, the kobolds might regroup and form a unified force, or simply flee faster—either outcome would be bad for him and the Red Dragon Company.
"It's time to finish you."
As Gauss rode the dragon down again, the old kobold chieftain—face twisted with urgency—finally showed a smile that was equal parts desperate and thrilled.
Gauss lowered his gaze.
Across the valley floor, red light began to bloom, spreading into a massive formation—like an enormous spell circle.
So this is what you've been preparing?
Gauss's eyes met the chieftain's from a great distance.
Clusters of flames—like fiery birds—rose from the valley and flew toward him like upside-down rain.
Gauss sensed the violent mana inside them. He only frowned slightly.
Then his gaze locked onto the golden candle in the chieftain's hands.
Even from this far away, he could feel a familiar pulse.
A noble, sacred aura.
Could it be… divine favor?
Gauss's thoughts sharpened.
A seemingly unremarkable kobold chieftain was holding something like this?
He shook his head.
No—it's already mine.
And then he saw it:
With each wave of fire-birds the chieftain unleashed, the candle's divine favor was slowly bleeding away.
Gauss's expression snapped cold.
He couldn't let it keep wasting that power.
He needed to take it—now.
Blue light flashed.
Gauss vanished from the dragon's back.
~~~
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