The admission notice from Dragonborn Academy was a gold-embossed dragon scale.
When Xuanxi Herras took it from her foster father, the scale was still warm, as if it had been peeled from a living dragon.
She turned it over. The first line of the admission notice read—
“This academy does not guarantee the safety of students’ dragon bodies. Enrollment constitutes acceptance of this clause.”
“…That’s a little too direct,” she muttered quietly.
Her foster father’s voice came from across the dining table, carrying the deep resonance unique to western dragons.
“Normal. Dragonborn Academy has students dropping out every year due to injury or death. The dropout rate is probably… thirty percent?”
He pondered for a moment, then added, “Every year.”
Xuanxi was silent for two seconds, then carefully tucked the dragon scale into her clothes.
Her foster father’s name was Helasi. He was just an ordinary western dragon, with gray-brown scales and a medium build, running a weapon shop in a border town.
He had neither a distinguished lineage nor extraordinary power. Even his breath was just the most ordinary flame—good for smithing iron, but not enough for a fight.
He was one of the few dragons in this world who always kept “safety first” on his lips.
“Actually, you can still back out now,” Helasi said while quenching a longsword. “The smithy back home is short-handed. You can come back and help me. Room and board are covered, and you won’t have to risk your life.”
Xuanxi leaned against the doorframe.
Her appearance was out of place in this border town—ink-green hair loosely tied at the back of her head, slightly upturned eyes, noble and majestic amber-gold irises, and a thin, tattoo-like line under her right eye that curved from the corner of her eye to her cheekbone. That mark was neither a tattoo nor a scar.
When Helasi first saw her, she was still a cub wrapped in rags, covered in blood, with that mark under her right eye faintly glowing.
He picked her up from the wilderness and raised her for over a decade, yet he still didn’t know where she came from.
All he knew was that she definitely wasn’t a western dragon—western dragon cubs didn’t look like that.
As for her name, “Xuanxi” was the word engraved on a jade pendant she had when she was found. Helasi couldn’t read those two ancient eastern characters, so he had someone translate them before he learned the pronunciation and meaning.
He had wanted to give her a western name, but the faint power emanating from the jade pendant made him feel that those two characters were important and couldn’t be changed.
As for the surname “Herras,” Xuanxi added it herself when she turned twelve.
“You raised me, so I’ll take your surname,” she had said, her tone as flat as if she were commenting on the nice weather.
Helasi drank all night that day. The next morning, his eyes were red—he said it was from the smoke.
“I’m not going back,” Xuanxi said.
Helasi sighed and didn’t try to persuade her. He had known that would be her answer.
Xuanxi had wanted to go to the academy ever since she could walk—not to get ahead, not to bring glory to her family. She had felt vaguely since she was very young that she didn’t belong here.
This border town, these gray-brown stone houses, these western dragon neighbors with their heavy accents all made her feel like an object placed in the wrong spot.
She wanted to go to the academy to find an answer—an answer about herself.
“Oh, your roommate info came through.” Helasi handed her a communication stone. “Not bad, a double room. Just one roommate.”
“Just one?” Xuanxi was surprised. She had heard that Dragonborn Academy’s dormitories were four-person rooms—too many dragons led to fights, too few strained the academy’s finances, so four was the optimal number.
Helasi’s expression was a bit odd.
“Right, just one. But…”
“But?”
“See for yourself.”
He handed over the communication stone. On it was a line of text:
“Hildegrifa von Edelstein, Eldest Legitimate Daughter of the Edelstein Family, S-rank bloodline, Thunder-Fire element. Note: This student has a withdrawn personality and dislikes socializing. Do not disturb. In case of conflict, bear the consequences.”
Xuanxi stared at the line and blinked.
“…S-rank bloodline?”
S-rank was the third tier in the western dragon bloodline system. After birth, young dragons underwent a bloodline test, starting from C, then B, A, S, SS, and SSS.
For an ordinary student at the academy, an S-rank bloodline was already overpowered—only clan leaders had higher ranks, and on top of that, she had dual attributes.
“Are you sure you didn’t misread it?” Xuanxi turned the communication stone over and over.
“I didn’t misread it.” Helasi’s tone was more like a warning. “I heard the Edelstein Family ranks in the top three in the western Dragon Domain.
This Hildegrifa is the strongest of her generation—she broke through to S-rank at sixteen. The academy put her alone in a double room probably because no one dared to room with her.”
“Then why did they arrange for me to be her roommate?”
Helasi shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know. All I know is you need to be careful in there. Don’t make me come pick up your corpse.”
Xuanxi handed the communication stone back to her foster father and curved her lips slightly. It was a faint smile, the amber-gold of her pupils reflecting the morning light—unable to tell if it was helplessness or anticipation.
“One eastern dragon, one western dragon, living together.” She swung her travel bag onto her shoulder. “I’d like to see what that’ll be like.”
***
From the border town to Dragonborn Academy, the flight took about two days.
Helasi originally offered to escort her, but Xuanxi refused. She said she was an adult now and had to learn to travel alone. Helasi didn’t insist.
On the morning of her departure, he stuffed into her luggage a dagger, two healing potions, three rations, and four letters—’care letters’ written to several old friends of his near the academy.
Xuanxi didn’t have the heart to tell him that those old friends were probably no longer alive.
Though dragons lived far longer than humans, a span of two hundred years was not short for any race. Helasi’s friends had either passed away or moved away long ago.
She flew on a flying vehicle for an entire day, landing in the evening at a town about half a day’s journey from the academy. She found a cheap inn, settled her luggage, and sat on the windowsill to watch the sunset.
From this angle, several floating peaks were faintly visible on the distant horizon. Dragonborn Academy was on one of them.
Bathed in the sunset, those peaks took on an unreal, magnificent color, as if someone had casually daubed paint across the sky.
She suddenly remembered something—she still didn’t know what Hildegrifa looked like.
The communication stone only had a name and status, no picture.
She tried to imagine an “S-rank Thunder-Fire dual attribute” young lady—probably a very imposing dragon, with dark scales, eyes possibly bearing lightning patterns, and breath mixing thunder and fire…
“Ah well, I’ll see her tomorrow,” she muttered to herself and closed the window.
***
The next day’s activities went smoothly. Dragonborn Academy’s enrollment procedures took place at the base of the floating peak.
New students first had to complete identity verification at the reception area at the foot of the mountain, then take a teleportation array directly to the campus on the summit.
When Xuanxi arrived, there was already a long line at the reception.
At this moment, all the new students had retracted their enormous true forms and transformed into humanoid shapes.
Looking around, the square was packed with young, upright figures. Though most of them were exceptionally handsome, they exuded a cold, off-putting demeanor.
Their hair colors varied—silver-white like frost, ink-black like night, crimson like fire—gleaming with unusual luster under the sun.
Occasionally, a pair of slit pupils would flash through the crowd, with dark gold or emerald green lights glinting in their eyes—the eyes of predators.
These were dragons whose true forms could blot out the sky, yet they now had to suppress the arrogance in their blood, wearing uniform attire and queuing in the crowd with a hint of restraint while hiding their sharp edges.
Xuanxi obediently went to the back of the line.
Her dragon form was a bit awkward in this setting—not because she was too weak, but because her dragon form was completely different from western dragons.
She had no wings, a more slender body, smaller and denser scales, and overall looked more like a serpentine creature than the typical lizard-like giant of western dragons.
She didn’t want to become the center of attention on her first day. After waiting in line for over half an hour, it was finally her turn to register.
The teacher at the reception was an elderly A-rank dragon. He squinted at her identification, then looked at her, then looked back at the identification, going back and forth several times.
“You…” the teacher hesitated. “Why is the bloodline information field blank?”
“I don’t know,” Xuanxi said frankly.
The teacher opened his mouth as if to ask something, but in the end just shook his head and stamped her identification.
“Alright, go on up. Your dorm is in District 3, Room 404.”
Xuanxi took her ID and walked toward the teleportation array. What she didn’t know was that as she turned to leave, the teacher’s gaze lingered on the mark under her right eye for a long time.
Then he quickly flipped open a thick record book and hurriedly scribbled a line in some remarks column.
The teleportation array sent her to the summit. The academy was much larger than she had imagined, with an architectural style that mixed the ruggedness of western dragons with some exotic aesthetic she couldn’t quite name.
Huge stone pillars, domes, arches—everywhere were carved dragon totems and emblems. In the distance, she could see the training grounds, library, cafeteria, and a white tower that soared into the clouds.
She followed the directions and found District 3—a dormitory building separate from the main campus, five stories tall. Her room was on the fourth floor, at the very end.
The hallway was very quiet—abnormally quiet.
As Xuanxi walked down the hall, she passed several dorm rooms with open doors. The new students inside were chatting loudly and unpacking, but when they saw her pass by, their gazes turned a bit strange.
Not because she was weird—well, partly because she was weird. But the bigger reason was that the direction she was heading toward was the room of the “that person” everyone knew about.
As she passed a dorm door, a lizard-like dragon girl who was making her bed lowered her voice and said to her roommate, “Look, she’s heading to the far end.”
“That room? She doesn’t know yet, does she?”
“Wanna bet how long she’ll last in there?”
“One week.”
“I bet three days.”
Xuanxi had good hearing, but she pretended not to hear.
The door at the end of the hall was closed. On the doorplate was written “404,” and below it in small print, “Double Room – Special Arrangement.”
She took a deep breath and knocked. No answer.
She knocked again. Still no answer.
She tried pushing the door and found it was unlocked.
The door opened. The room was bigger than she expected. Two beds were placed on opposite sides, separated by a semi-transparent screen.
The area by the window was empty, with a desk and wardrobe. One desk was already occupied—neatly arranged on it were several books and a black crystal of unknown material.
On the other half of the room, on the bed against the wall, sat a person—or rather, a dragon.
In human form, with silver-white hair that almost reached her waist, glistening coldly in the light from the window. Her skin was very pale, nearly translucent.
Between her brows was a cold aloofness that warned others to keep away. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, showing no emotion.
She wore a dark gray academy uniform, with the collar buttoned meticulously. She looked like she had stepped out of a noble portrait.
What stood out most were her eyes—amethyst-colored.
That was a very rare eye color. Among western dragons, purple eyes often signified—
Wait, Xuanxi suddenly realized something.
She was standing at the entrance of the other’s room, and that person was looking at her with an appraising gaze.
That gaze was very calm, calm like a stagnant pool, but Xuanxi inexplicably felt that something lurked beneath that still water.
“Hello,” Xuanxi spoke first. “I’m your roommate, Xuanxi Herras.”
She paused and added, “Um, may I come in?”
The silver-haired dragon girl’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment—specifically, on the mark under her right eye.
A very brief instant, so quick it was almost negligible. Then she looked away and said two words flatly.
“Suit yourself.”
Her voice was very pleasant, but her tone was as cold as if saying “Get lost.”
Xuanxi’s mouth twitched. She dragged her luggage in and chose the bed near the door. She put her bags by the bedside and began checking the condition of the bed and wardrobe.
Throughout, the silver-haired dragon girl remained sitting on the opposite bed, flipping through a book thick enough to kill someone, without glancing at her again.
The room was so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat. Xuanxi couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to lighten the mood.
“You’re Hildegrifa, right?” she asked while making the bed. “Your name is so long, can I…”
“No.”
“…I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You cannot call me by a shortened name,” Hildegrifa said, turning a page. “Your expression already wrote the words ‘Can I call you Hilde’.”
‘This person has something—she actually knows what I’m thinking.’
“Fine, Hildegrifa.” She struggled to pronounce the cumbersome name fully. “My name is Xuanxi. You can call me…”
“I’m not interested in knowing.”
“…You already knew it just now.”
“That was you speaking, not me asking.”
Xuanxi took a deep breath and silently repeated three times, ‘Don’t fight with your roommate on the first day.’
She made the bed and took out her belongings one by one: a few changes of clothes, two books, a dagger, a cloth bag containing the rations her foster father had packed, and a jade pendant tied with a red string.
That jade pendant was small, palm-sized, entirely ink-green, with two faintly visible carved characters. Xuanxi hung it on a hook at the head of the bed, moving gently as if afraid of breaking it.
The sound of pages turning across the room paused for a second. Xuanxi instinctively looked up.
Hildegrifa’s gaze fell on that jade pendant, but just for a moment. Then she lowered her head again, as if she hadn’t seen anything.
But in that brief moment, Xuanxi noticed something.
In those amethyst eyes, something flickered.
Not curiosity, not hostility—more like… she couldn’t describe it.
Like someone striking a match in the dark and then quickly extinguishing it.
“What’s wrong?” Xuanxi asked.
“Nothing.”
Xuanxi waited a moment, confirmed that the other wouldn’t speak again, and turned her attention back to her own side. She hung the jade pendant securely, then pulled out the dagger, hesitated, and tucked it under her pillow.
She wasn’t sure if the academy rules allowed that, but her foster father had said that when away from home, one must be cautious.
“Don’t put a knife under your pillow.”
Xuanxi was startled.
“You’re the first person daring enough to put a knife under their pillow.” That cold voice came from behind the screen, still devoid of emotion.
“Dormitory rules, Article Seven: No carrying restricted weapons to sleep. The dormitory manager will do a room check tomorrow. You’d better put it away.”
Xuanxi blinked. “Are you… warning me?”
No answer.
Xuanxi waited a while, only hearing the slight rustle of the other turning over in bed. She thought for a moment, then pulled the dagger from under her pillow, put it back in her luggage bag, and lay down again.
“Thanks,” she said.
There was a long silence from behind the screen, so long that Xuanxi thought the other had fallen asleep.
Then she heard a very, very soft voice, so soft it was almost a murmur.
“…Mm.”
The last ray of twilight sank below the horizon outside the window.
And so the first night at Dragonborn Academy began.
What Xuanxi didn’t know was that after she closed her eyes, the silver-haired dragon girl across the screen was lying with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, the starlight reflecting in her amethyst pupils.
She was thinking about one thing:
She had seen that mark before, in an ancient book older than herself. That book said that in the East, there was an ancient dragon race that bore a heavenly fate mark under the right eye, a proof of pure bloodline.
That book also said that this kind of dragon had been extinct for three hundred years.
Hildegrifa turned over, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and closed her eyes.
Whatever, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.