An unknown space-time, a dazzling display of light and shadow.
A meteorite fell, its surface a deep crimson.
In this world that flickers with an ominous red light, Richard lies exhausted on the sulfurous ground.
Forcibly carrying violent elements through the space-time rift was too reckless. The intersecting spaces tore his scales to pieces, leaving him severely injured and unable to maintain his dragon form.
This was the first time he had suffered such a serious injury; his lungs were throbbing with pain, and he had to exert all his strength just to breathe.
Even though the pain in my limbs was excruciating, the weakness caused by blood loss was even more difficult to ignore. If I fell asleep, I would never wake up again.
Not far from him sat Xie Mulang, leaning against a giant rock, without uttering a sound.
The other person's black clothes were clearly wet, clinging limply to their body, emitting a pungent, fishy smell, and soaked with dripping blood.
Fortunately, it was all his dragon blood.
Even with his eyes closed, Richard could feel the other person's gaze.
That was a gaze so direct that he couldn't ignore it.
The thought of his disheveled appearance inexplicably made Richard feel irritated.
“Hey, I’m telling you,” Richard said listlessly, swallowing the half-congealed blood in his throat. “Don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you came along to die with me.”
The other party is always like this, doing things that make Long misunderstand.
It sadly caused him to constantly feel hope rising from the bottom of his heart, only to fall into despair once again.
Xie Mulang responded with a muffled "Mm".
Then they fell into a silent stillness, with only the distant sound of a raging hurricane and the crashing of falling rocks.
Richard's outburst felt like hitting cotton, leaving him with a strange bitter feeling.
He would rather Xie Mulang scold him, mock him, and have a big argument with him without caring about anything else.
But the other party is always like this.
He appears to be submissive, but in reality, he uses stillness to control movement, making his initiative seem incredibly foolish and his affections seem incredibly cheap.
Richard suddenly felt tired.
He forgot the words he had originally intended to say, lazily closed his already heavy eyelids, curled the corners of his mouth, and listened to the howling of the violent wind.
Although he was proficient in all seven types of magic, he had a particular fondness for wind.
The blue wind is an unpredictable color, a cool breeze in summer, and a carefree breeze sweeping over the hills.
Listen, the free wind is singing:
"In a space on the verge of collapse, the shortest-lived silver dragon perished."
Although he felt somewhat ashamed, what should he write in the memories left for the next silver dragon?
"Abandoning superfluous pity"? Or perhaps—
"Don't fall in love with a human."
...
Xie Mulang originally thought that Mr. Long would scold him.
This is what he deserves.
Even if you scold him, cut him with a knife, or burn him with magic, he would willingly endure it.
But the other person simply closed their eyes.
Although the bloodstains did not diminish her beauty in the slightest, but rather added to her alluring and sinister charm, Xie Mulang had no time to care.
Because he clearly sensed that the other person's life force was rapidly draining away.
Like water caught in a silk handkerchief, or sand slipping through one's fingers, this is an irreversible decline.
He will lose Mr. Long forever.
An indescribable fear suddenly arose in Xie Mulang's heart.
His mind went completely blank, yet his body staggered to the other's side. He almost trembled as he cradled the other's heavy head.
He cupped the back of the other's head with his palm, feeling a cool, damp sensation that was strangely hot, leaving the other speechless and completely disoriented.
"Wake up, Mr. Long! You can't sleep, wake up!" Xie Mulang cried out in a daze.
“Stop joking.” Richard frowned, interrupting his rant. “I know very well that I… am about to die.”
Xie Mulang stared blankly at the silver dragon in his arms, opened his mouth, but dared not make any more noise.
“Listen carefully, when a member of the Silver Dragon Clan dies, a rift will tear open, and they will be transported to the bone mound beneath Dragon Island,” Richard stated calmly, as if giving his final instructions. “Just hold on to me tightly and don’t let go, and you will be saved.”
The other party didn't open their eyes, but suddenly laughed, "When the time comes, you can shave off my bones and have someone forge a sharp sword... This is something I personally promised you, the dragon race won't make things difficult for you..."
"No! I don't want to!" Xie Mulang roared, interrupting Richard.
Looking at Richard, who was in a final burst of energy before his death, he suddenly couldn't help but shed tears.
Tears fell onto Yinlong's face, dissolving the thick bloodstains, but they could not wash away the overwhelming regret in his heart.
Xie Mulang lowered his head and said sadly, "No, Mr. Long, don't scare me... I don't want you to die."
But pleading was useless; Richard no longer responded to him.
Silver Dragon quieted down, its usually frivolous eyes softening as if it were rushing to a fleeting, beautiful dream.
In the scorching, raging wind, the other person's body was gradually cooling down, while in the distant void, a silver storm was beginning to brew.
Xie Mulang held Richard's body tightly, murmuring remorse, "I'm sorry, Mr. Long, I lied to you before."
"I like you, I really like you..." He was helpless, sobbing uncontrollably, repeatedly saying, "I like you so much..."
A silver storm gradually took shape, and even the meteorites falling around it were drawn in by the space that was being torn apart at the center.
Richard was right. When the storm fully arrives, the two will be transported back to the Dragon Clan's Bone Tomb by the laws of the universe.
Xie Mulang stared intently at the silver storm, then drew his Linglang Sword and said in a deep voice, "Mr. Long, rest assured, I will not let you travel alone."
The sword was drawn, its sharp blade gleaming, reflecting the dark eyebrows and eyes of the swordsman in black.
Xie Mulang devoted himself to the sword for twenty-four years, yet his heart remained undisturbed.
He originally thought that no matter what kind of karmic obstacles they were, as long as his sword was fast enough, he could easily cut them off.
But after meeting Richard for just over six months, she realized the wonder of life.
Even amidst the anxieties of gain and loss, there is still joy and sorrow, warmth and coldness.
But fate is fickle, and in the blink of an eye, everything has changed.
When he was forced to confront the fact that Richard was dead, he suddenly realized how ridiculous his previous presumptuous actions had been.
He hurt Mr. Long, but only moved himself.
Pride stems from a guilty conscience, and arrogance stems from excessive pride.
Even if I were to die ten thousand times, it would not be enough to atone for my sins.
What an impartial boundary lies between life and death; once parted, it is impossible to ever see each other again.
Thinking of this, Xie Mulang, utterly despondent, closed his eyes in anguish.
He made a snap decision and prepared to commit suicide beside Richard.
But his wrist was grabbed.
The opponent's force was clearly weak, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Xie Mulang opened his eyes in disbelief, only to see Richard staring weakly at him with his silver eyes gleaming.
The other person's voice was clearly disdainful, yet to him it sounded like heavenly music—
"Cowardly child...tsk...why do you...always think about running away?"
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