The night was already deep. The footsteps outside the tent gradually grew sparse. The sentries changed shift after shift, and the newcomers stepped more lightly on the gravel, probably trying not to disturb the wounded like Xuanxi. Elsa’s tent had gone completely silent.
Valeris was likely already asleep, and Elsa had stopped making any noise. Reginald’s snoring continued, a long and short pattern, very rhythmic.
Xuanxi lay in her sleeping bag, her bandaged right arm resting outside. Hildegrifa was lying right beside her, her silver-white hair spread across the sleeping mat, her breathing shallow.
The two of them had not held hands to sleep tonight, rare as it was, each lying in their own sleeping bag. Her right shoulder still ached, and the pain in her abdomen had not disappeared, but it was much better than before.
The Wolf Family’s healing potion was indeed effective; the liquid had seeped into the wounds, now slightly warm—the body’s feedback as it repaired itself.
Her consciousness gradually blurred. Under the strain of depleted spiritual energy, blood loss, and multiple injuries, her body no longer had enough energy to maintain wakefulness.
Xuanxi closed her eyes. Darkness surged up, nothingness, and then everything turned into void.
Then she heard the sound of water. Water flowing inside her body. Spiritual energy coursed through her meridians, like an underground river that had slumbered for a long time, finally breaking through the surface and gushing out.
She stood in a void. There was no ground beneath her feet, no sky above her head, only endless darkness and a faint glimmer of light far in the distance.
“Ying’er.”
Xuanxi turned her head sharply. The light was approaching her. Within it was a figure—the same ink-cyan long hair, amber-golden eyes. The difference was that beneath her right eye, the number of destiny marks was greater than Xuanxi’s.
“Are you… Mother?” Xuanxi’s voice echoed in the void. Ao Lan looked at her, the amber-golden eyes reflecting Xuanxi’s shadow, and nodded slightly.
“Child, you’ve grown up.” Her voice was very soft, as if coming from far away.
Xuanxi wanted to walk over, but her feet could not lift. She felt as if something bound her. This void would not let her move. She could only stand passively in place, watching her mother stand in that beam of light far away.
“I don’t have much time.” Ao Lan’s voice lowered. “The spiritual energy in this jade pendant is only enough to sustain this one conversation. So, Ying’er, you must listen carefully.”
She took a step forward, and the light moved with her footsteps. That face, which was seventy percent similar to Xuanxi’s, appeared especially clear in the soft light.
Her destiny marks were more numerous than Xuanxi’s, extending from the corner of the eye to the cheekbone, then down to the jawline. Each one bore the traces of time.
“Three hundred years ago, a civil war broke out in the Canglong Dynasty,” Ao Lan said steadily.
“By all reason, the direct lineage of the Azure Dragon had been passed down for thousands of years—there should not have been any mishap.”
“But that year, the three Dragon Kings were somehow bewitched and simultaneously rose in revolt. Using the excuse that the Dragon Emperor was old and senile, they demanded autonomy and power-sharing. When the Dragon Emperor refused, they raised their armies.”
Xuanxi looked at her, her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms, but there was no pain, because in this dream there was none.
“The three Dragon Kings of the North, West, and South joined forces to besiege the royal city. The Eastern Azure Dragon was the only one who did not rebel.”
“He held the pass, buying the Dragon Emperor three months’ time. After three months, he died in battle on the walls of the Eastern Border.” Ao Lan’s voice paused. “His death bought the Dragon Emperor’s bloodline three days to retreat.”
“Three days?”
“Yes. Three days later, the Dragon Emperor ordered the city abandoned. All direct bloodline members were scattered and evacuated. Save whoever could be saved.” Ao Lan closed her eyes, as if recalling something, then opened them again.
“I carried you and escaped from the royal city through the tunnels. Pursuers were close behind. I held you and ran for three days and three nights, not daring to stop, unable to stop.”
“Your seal was personally placed by me, right there in the Stone Forest of Echo Valley. I spent three days and three nights sealing the bloodline power of the Azure Dragon direct lineage into your destiny marks.”
“Why?”
“Because if I hadn’t sealed it, the pursuers would have sensed your aura. The golden eyes of the Azure Dragon direct lineage can be sensed from a hundred miles away once revealed.” Ao Lan looked at Xuanxi, her amber-golden eyes holding an indescribable expression—something deeper and more complex.
“I sealed your bloodline and entrusted you to an ordinary western dragon blacksmith. He is your adoptive father—Helasi. Though he is no great figure, just a common blacksmith, I believed he could take good care of you.” Ao Lan’s voice choked.
“I’m sorry, child. I couldn’t accompany you as you grew up, couldn’t teach you to use the Azure Dragon power, couldn’t even bring you home.” Ao Lan’s voice finally wavered. “But I believe in you, because you are my daughter.”
“The seal of the World-Destroying Black Dragon—Nidhogg—is already loosening.” Ao Lan’s voice steadied again.
“Nine hundred years ago, experts from the four races—dragons, beasts, elves, and humans—joined forces and sealed him deep in the Storm Sea. But nine hundred years later, the Alliance exists in name only. The beast tribe has withdrawn from the guardian team.”
“The elf tribe has closed the forest passage. The human kingdoms are constantly warring among themselves, adding nothing but slaughter. Even our dragon race has completely split into East and West, no longer communicating. Now only we eastern dragons alone maintain the seal.”
“But after the civil war three hundred years ago, the eastern dragon clan was severely weakened. The seal cannot hold much longer. If Nidhogg is reborn, the entire world will be destroyed. And our Canglong clan is the key to suppressing the seal.”
Her eyes looked at Xuanxi, the golden pupils reflecting her daughter’s face.
“The golden eyes inherent in the Azure Dragon bloodline are the core of the seal. The day all nine destiny marks fully open is the day the Azure Dragon returns to its rightful place.”
“At that time, you must return to the Eastern Dragon Domain, ascend to the position of Dragon Emperor, and call upon all races to reinforce the seal. This is the responsibility of our Azure Dragon direct lineage, and also the meaning behind your mother protecting you so that you could survive.”
She reached out. Her fingertip tapped the void. Xuanxi’s collar lit up. Both jade pendants glowed at the same time. No—three. A third appeared from within the light, ink-cyan in color, and finally slid into the groove between the yin and yang faces.
“This is the last bit of spiritual energy I left in the pendants, and also the missing final piece. Now it is complete. It should return to your side.”
The third key embedded itself into the groove of the pendant, forming a perfect circle. Dragon patterns rose from the surface of the jade, coiling through the clouds, five claws spread wide.
The Azure Dragon was finally complete. Xuanxi’s right cheek suddenly began to burn. The fifth destiny mark emerged from beneath the skin, dark gold, aligning with the previous four. The seal loosened another layer under Ao Lan’s push. It was her bloodline awakening.
Responsibility.
Ao Lan’s figure began to fade. The ink-cyan light dispersed bit by bit.
“Mother!” Xuanxi rushed forward, but her feet still could not lift.
Ao Lan looked at her, smiled bitterly, and tears flowed out. “Ying’er, live on, return to the Eastern Dragon Domain, save all living beings. That is the duty of our clan.”
The ink-cyan light completely dissipated. The void fell back into darkness. Only the complete pendant at Xuanxi’s collar still glowed, tapping gently against her chest, making tiny clinking sounds.
She opened her eyes. Something was streaming down her face—warm, ticklish. She raised her hand to touch it. When her fingertips met her cheek, she realized she was crying.
She didn’t know when it had started. Perhaps when her mother said “I’m sorry,” perhaps when that ink-cyan light had completely faded away.