Chapter 214 Returning Home
Lamina silently gazed at the sea, the sea familiar to the Natalin people. For over three hundred years, the sea had been both generous and cruel, bringing them the fish they depended on for survival, but also attracting ferocious sea beasts and dragons.
Now, the Natalin people are finally about to leave their homeland, where they have lived for over three hundred years, and sail towards an unknown land. The God's Chosen One has promised the people that their new homeland will accept both the Natalin people and their dragons—but not everyone is willing to leave the Asaqi Valley. Time can create false nostalgia, not to mention that they have been trapped their entire lives in this small valley beneath the snow-capped mountains.
Young people are fine, as they naturally yearn for the outside world, but a few stubborn old people would rather sit in front of the fireplace at home, accompanying this mad mountain and the deceased King Corentin to die together.
Lamina nervously packed her bags, her mouth dry with persuasion. Finally, a favored one had to intervene, calmly informing the few elders in the tribe that there were still a group of Natalin people in their new homeland, perhaps the only remaining members of their tribe in the world.
The man spoke to the elders with a genuine distress that seemed to Lamina to be extremely cunning. "None of us young people can explain what happened to King Corentin. The Natalin people outside call him the 'Mad King of Seventeen Days,' saying he's a complete madman who betrayed his own people and his subordinates."
As expected, several of the most stubborn old men and women became furious and were about to board the ship, waving their crutches, determined to vindicate the unfortunate King Corentin.
In the sea near the Wall of Sighs, the wooden boats of their tribesmen were looming in the raging waves. Lamina steadied the old witch doctor beside her. The old witch doctor had his moist eyes tightly closed, raised his hands toward the tallest and most awe-inspiring waves, and muttered something in a low voice through his dry mouth.
She couldn't help but look up. A bright white spot was circling in the gray and heavy clouds. The God-favored One was standing on his dragon's back. The wind was whistling, and his golden hair was dancing wildly on the side of his face. However, his profile was indifferent, as if he was a god overlooking the world.
...The beautiful child who had grown up under the care of the Natalin people seemed to be becoming more and more unfathomable and further away from them.
Under the nervous gaze of the Natalin people, the last remaining relic of King Corentin, after protecting his people for three hundred years, finally began to collapse inch by inch with a deafening roar.
Lamina felt the boat beneath her shaking violently. She subconsciously hugged the old witch doctor and leaned over. The heavy water curtain was like an upside-down sea, trying to drown them. Basa beside her rushed over quickly and protected them tightly under his body.
But the next second, the sea water stopped in mid-air as everyone was stunned. The turbid sea water washed down along the transparent barrier that wrapped each small boat, sank softly into the sea, and dissipated silently.
"keep going."
The gentle and calm voice of the God-favored One came into Lamina's ears along with the sound of the wind. She finally came to her senses, blushed, pushed away Basa who was nervously asking her if she was hurt, and elbowed her brother who was winking at her, and prepared to continue steering.
...Is this an illusion? Lamina patted her burning face, coughed dryly, and tried to get her mind back on track. The God's Chosen One seemed a little... anxious?
…
In Port Morris, the professor finally found time to visit the imprisoned Doom Lord cub. The people of Port Morris didn't deliberately mistreat it, but its treatment wasn't much better.
As the humans stood before it, the pitch-black dragon cub leaned its head languidly against the cold stone bricks, its scales dull and lifeless. The wounds on its body had stopped bleeding, but tender flesh was still exposed, writhing in pain with each breath. The dragon's snout was tightly bound by a magical device to prevent it from spitting fire and injuring anyone. It was only slightly loosened for feeding, when a skilled person would stuff pieces of meat between its teeth.
"I know you can understand me."
The nictitating membrane above the dragon's pupil faded away, and the cold, bright red dragon pupil reflected the extremely tiny black-haired human in front of it without any emotion - and then, under the nervous gaze of the other two humans, that guy actually began to read the report.
"According to statistics, you have killed seven of your own soldiers, severely burned 22 people, and disabled four people, directly or indirectly causing countless casualties and property losses." Even though there was a giant dragon in front of him that could burn him to ashes with a single breath, the human still looked fearless.
"During the party vote, 43% demanded your immediate execution, 5% abstained, and 52% requested a postponement. Reasons given included, but were not limited to, concerns about inciting even more frenzied retaliation from the Ruskin family, dragon blood attracting other dragons, and the higher auction price of a living dragon."
The dragon snorted disdainfully and pounded the ground with the tip of its tail in annoyance.
"Actually, I'm very curious about why the Ruskin family captured you and why they brought you to Port Morris."
The professor studied the dragon closely, until its scales rippled. "The return on taming dragons is extremely low. Throughout history, there have only been one or two so-called dragon riders. Yet the Ruskin family brought an untamed dragon cub to Port Morris. This defies basic logic. Does this mean that the Ruskin family has mastered a method to control dragons? According to their original plan, Port Morris should have been chosen as the site for their experiment?"
The birth of a traditional dragon rider couldn't be replicated, and not everyone possessed the strength and luck of a savior. Furthermore, he knew from the information provided by the other party that the frost dragon White Nightmare from the far northern country of Forlos was in a different state than the dragon possessing the dragon rider—so was that dragon also controlled in the same way?
"Dragons can't speak." Orel reminded quietly from the side.
What is this guy doing here? Is he going to threaten Long?
"It doesn't matter. It has a brain and can think." The other person's mouth twitched slightly. However, in this place, at this time, it was so creepy that at least the assassin leader took a step back in response. "Body language can tell us a lot."
Those smoky gray eyes showed the fanatical curiosity unique to scholars, and were fixed on the dragon cub, like a cat in hunting mode, which made him look even cruelly naive - this guy looked like a complete demon king at this moment, the kind whose evil deeds and horrors would be recorded in long speeches by bards.
Marcylin, who was also accompanying someone to see the dragons, couldn't help but ask, "So when you mentioned earlier, 'We'll soon have a group of dragons,' did that mean we need to master the technology to tame dragons?"
"Not entirely," the professor said calmly. "I'm indeed curious about how to tame a dragon—but 'immediately' would probably be faster. Perhaps today?"
Judging from the sea conditions in recent days and someone's phone call, the Natalin people should be arriving soon.
Ole lowered his arms from across his chest: "...Wait."
He suddenly realized something.
"You mean, the Natalin people from the Asachi Valley will come here? Today?" He stared at them in shock, and couldn't help but roared in a low voice: "Why didn't you tell me in advance?!"
The Natalin people of Port Morris have mixed feelings about their other half. In a previous life, when Ole learned that his friend's people had been massacred, he too felt grief and anger.
But strictly speaking, it was the ones who chose to abandon their faith, abandoned King Corentin, and abandoned their fellow tribesmen - and it happened that so much time had passed, and now when they faced these compatriots who shared the same blood, they couldn't help but feel a subtle awkwardness.
Even if he knew there was nothing he could do even if he knew the tyrant's decision in advance, Orel thought indignantly, shouldn't he at least inform the current patriarch in advance? He should at least be much closer to people than that guy Greven, right?!
"Because if we tell them in advance, the people of Port Morris, frightened by the dragon, will react strongly," the professor said, observing the dragon nonchalantly. He replied lazily, "It's better to cut the Gordian knot and use an 'accident' to push for a decision."
Then he met the assassin's iron-blue eyes that were staring at him. The black-haired young man blinked slowly and said hesitantly: "...Wait, I told you about five days ago that we were going to have a batch of dragons - so you didn't understand what I meant?"
Ole: “…”
Ole's face was expressionless: "I'm so sorry, I don't understand you as well as that bastard Azuka, and I can't quickly understand your unspoken meaning."
Maxlin on the side burst out laughing - it was really rare to see Ole admit so frankly that he was inferior to his friend in some aspects.
"...Sorry about my problem. I was just thinking about asking you to be safe and forgot to explain the cause in detail." The professor pinched his brows with a headache. The mistake caused by the busyness made him miss his assistant, secretary and lover again.
Mashilin on the side narrowed her eyes suspiciously: "So what do you mean by accident?"
She had gradually learned to carefully write down every word the Emperor said—and then ask questions if she didn't understand. Most of the time, the Emperor was quite patient, unless the questions were too stupid.
The black-haired young man didn't answer, but simply touched the beautiful, delicate diamond-shaped gemstone around his neck. With a slight tremor, an intricate and exquisite magic circle pattern suddenly emerged.
Ole and Marshilin suddenly took a guarded stance, then were pushed down and told to continue watching.
"Here I come."
The professor calmly watched as the magic tools on the dragon cub suddenly shattered into pieces without any warning. The dragon cub, having regained its freedom, stretched its limbs, then raised its head and let out an angry roar.
"How could it be—"
Orel suddenly opened his eyes wide. He still had confidence in the quality of the binding magic tools in the Scarlet Bazaar. There was no way they would become ineffective all at once, not to mention that he and Shadow Chaser had done it themselves - so there was only one reason, someone had deliberately released the dragon.
Is it the Ruskin family? The Chamber of Commerce? Or... a mole within the Shadow Chaser?
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