Chapter 216 Prayer
The old man's cloudy eyes reflected the silver gleam of the assassin's blade. He stepped over the still-warm corpse, brushing off the blood of his own kind from his scimitar. The sticky blood had soaked the cracks in the stone bricks, so much so that with every step, a dull, sticky sound could be heard.
He was indeed the most outstanding talent among the younger generation, even being attacked by over ten masters, he only sustained minor injuries. Furthermore, he was still so young, and youth meant a brighter future.
"I, ahem, once told your father that you're too sentimental and it could get you killed. It's better to let you go out and explore the world..." The old man covered the bloody hole in his chest, his voice hoarse and tired. "But now, you've finally learned to be ruthless... That's good..."
Ole said nothing, but pointed the tip of his knife at the man's neck. He didn't chop him down, as the old man was already dying, so he just let his voice fade away, until he finally let out a faint sigh of relief.
"In that case... then, keep going. Perhaps you can really... change everything..."
"Boss!"
Daniga clutched his stomach, which had been pierced by someone, and nervously stepped forward to support Orel. He stumbled, his blood-stained face expressionless, and at that moment, he looked surprisingly deep and unfathomable.
"It's my fault." Daniga took a deep breath, suppressing his mixed emotions. He gritted his teeth, tears glinting in his eyes. "I didn't expect them to be so—!"
"That's enough, I'm glad you're okay." Ole interrupted him and slapped the boy on the back, who looked like he was about to burst into tears. "When you're healed, I'll beat you to death—why are you shedding tears? You're such a loser."
Daniga wiped his face and was about to force a wolfish laugh, but the next second his expression turned into horror again: "Wait, where's the professor?!"
"Here." The professor on the side calmly interrupted, and then saw the young assassin's pupils dilate quickly for a moment, as if he didn't expect that he would ignore a living person.
Ole glanced at him and, as expected, saw his friend beside him.
He couldn't help but snort.
Ole didn't even bother to ask if the tyrant had orchestrated this situation; he loved this kind of trick that killed several birds with one stone. Each chess piece believed they were fighting for their own will, but that person wasn't even the player; he was the rules of the board.
Was he angry? Humiliated? Certainly, to some extent. But this shift in perspective allowed him to more clearly see the predetermined arc of history, or rather, fate. For a moment, he even felt as if he had stepped off the chessboard, overlooking everything from the other player's perspective—but he could only watch.
...Azuka, is this one of the reasons why you fell in love with him?
"Where is the Lord of Doom?" Orel frowned.
His friend was treating the two of them. He glanced at him calmly when he heard this: "Mashlin went after them. Ezra is also there."
Orel was stunned for a moment. Who was Azra? Oh, the dragon that his friend raised in this life.
He knew that when he fought the frost dragon White Nightmare, the other party looked at the dragon with a strange look. But it was understandable. In the continent of Ambrose, every child had dreamed of becoming a dragon rider. After the death of White Nightmare, the savior was depressed for a while. Now, his wish had finally come true.
Outside the dungeon, dragon roars could be heard one after another. Azra was boredly slapping the Doom Lord's tail with his claws, sometimes letting go, sometimes catching it again. The latter couldn't help but let out a stifled whimper, which was really terrifying for the people around him.
Marceline crouched aside, observing the dragons curiously. The Windrunner glanced at her, raised its head to sniff the air, and then looked away with disinterest.
Someone recognized her and approached timidly: "Ms. Marcyline! Do you know what these dragons are?"
But before she could say anything, she heard a chorus of exclamations. The red-haired girl looked in the direction of the sound and saw a tall figure casually saunter through the dragons. Amidst a collective gasp, they grasped Windrunner's neck. The dangerous dragon, surprisingly docile, lowered its head in the human's hand, nuzzling it affectionately against his shoulder.
The man was clad in an exotic indigo robe that fell to his ankles, revealing only his slender, jade-white hands. His features were obscured by his hood and collar, leaving only a pair of striking blue eyes visible. Brilliant golden hair, adorned with a cyan gem, flowed from the slits of his hood. Even so, the sight was still captivating.
"Dragon Knight..."
Someone in the crowd couldn't help but murmur, their tone as if they were dreaming. Dragon Riders were characters only mentioned by bards. Many even believed them to be mere legends, stories told to children—how could a human tame a dragon?
But now, they saw with their own eyes a dragon rider who had saved Port Morris from the Lord of Doom twice.
Under the eager gazes of the crowd, the dragon rider said nothing as he lightly flipped over and leaped onto the dragon's back. With the wind runner's roar, all the dragons took off with a roar, stirring up dust like a small hurricane.
The people of Port Morris followed the dragon group's sight towards the sea. On the farther horizon, in the depths of the bright and clear halo reflected by the sea water, ships appeared at the end of the sky.
…
The Doomsday Lord, lying on the street, was dragged back like a dead dog. He offered no resistance, seemingly having given up hope. Somehow, the dragon cub's eyes even held a hint of grief and anger.
With the reputation of saving people from the Lord of Doom twice, the people of Port Morris were at least friendly towards these aliens with dragons. After a brief entanglement and quarrel, they were finally willing to let them settle down temporarily.
By the time he finished, it was already dark. Nova was adjusting his plan by the light of a lamp when he felt someone approach him from behind. A kiss, fresh and moist, landed gently on the side of his cheek. The professor paused, leaving a smudge of ink on the paper.
The savior, having washed off the dust of travel, took the pen from his hand, put the cap back on and placed it on the table with a slight clanging sound.
"What are you doing? I haven't finished revising it yet." The professor frowned in dissatisfaction, and was pulled over and kissed.
In between moist panting and delicate kisses, the guy laughed softly and said, "Really? I'll help you solve it - and if you lose control like this now, you'll dirty the documents..."
His old enemy was kissed so hard that his breathing became rapid and his fingers trembled. If he let the tip of the pen scribble everywhere, it would be difficult to explain the marks the next day.
The bastard bit back. The professor was a little annoyed and couldn't help but sarcastically said, "Whose fault do you think this is—ugh!"
- So, can this guy ever stop using kisses to silence him?!
When he was finally released, dazed and confused, the professor's face darkened as he realized he had been pinned down on the bed without realizing it. The mysterious and elegant dragon knight from the daytime had now completely revealed his breathtaking face before him. The dim light made him look so beautiful that he seemed almost inhuman.
The savior knelt condescendingly over his nemesis, his hands resting on the sides of his face, his soft blond hair falling like spider silk, shielding him from the outside world. The same cyan diamond-shaped gemstone as the one on the professor's neck was cool and hard, gently touching his collarbone as it swayed, causing the black-haired youth to flinch.
Azuka paused, then simply leaned over and kissed the other person's forehead with a soothing gesture. He considerately supported his weight with his arms to avoid suffocating the fragile ordinary person.
But this completely covering, oppressive posture still seemed unsettling. At least his nemesis had already reached out to push his face, with one knee bent against his lower abdomen, as if ready to kick him at any moment.
"I told you I still have work to do." The professor glared grimly at the man who seemed to be ill. "If you want to have sex with me, please apply at least three days in advance. I need to arrange a time according to my schedule. But kindly note, you won't have a chance this month. We'll be very busy next month."
Someone who just wanted to be close to their lover after a long separation—okay, not that long—and to get them to sleep, not wanting them to stay up late: "..."
He took a deep breath, straightened up considerately, pressed the man's knees down, and at the same time held the hand that was restlessly pushing him away.
"You can't always be like this." Azuka lowered her eyes, her expression expertly, a subtle yet palpable grievance. "You challenge my rationality while rejecting my emotions... You know perfectly well I won't force you."
...That's why they are so confident.
From a barely perceptible angle, the savior's eyes darkened. His nemesis, naturally, exposed his soft, vulnerable vitals before him. Even with fangs pressed against his neck, even with instincts clamoring for flight, he ultimately chose to resist with seemingly harmless words.
The black-haired young man sneered and glanced down coldly: "So who is experiencing a physiological reaction?"
He never makes assumptions, the professor thought seriously. He only makes accusations when there is irrefutable evidence, so this guy is simply turning the tables.
The man, exposed, didn't blush, merely chuckled, ripped off his glove, and reverently kissed the back of his pale hand, where pale blue veins were clearly visible. Then, guiding his hand downward, he gently pressed against a particularly dangerous spot. A certain consuming heat, even through a layer of clothing, still swelled along his fingertips, burning him so hard he couldn't help but shiver.
But the blond young man's voice was still gentle, clear, low, and had a hint of pleading or even bewitching.
"—Will you help me, sir?"
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