“Sob, sob...”
In the quiet cave, only the low sound of weeping echoed between the stone walls. A young white dragon curled up next to the still-warm black body.
Sss, it hurts... Am I about to die?
In the darkness, a soul from the modern era woke up in a daze.
The thick scent of dragon blood filled his nose and mouth. His wound burned and tingled. From the depths of his bloodline, he felt the most primal fear of the dragon clan—the natural enemy was approaching, and the pursuers were not far behind.
The relentless hunt, which had gone on for one thousand three hundred years, had never given the dragon clan even a moment of respite.
The white dragon's front claw pressed gently against the scales on the side of his neck. A shocking wound had split open there, and golden dragon blood was continuously flowing out. The white dragon sobbed incessantly, while the black dragon's breathing seemed to have already stopped.
“You can't... We went through so much to escape...”
“Isabella, stop crying.”
A voice came from deep within the cave, carrying a hint of impatience. A grayish-blue young dragon stepped out of the darkness, his scales battered and broken as if he had just survived a life-and-death struggle.
He looked down at the black young dragon's corpse on the ground, his eyes showing no emotion.
“He's dead,” the grayish-blue young dragon continued. “Don't waste time on a useless corpse. Those winged gods could catch up to us at any moment.”
Isabella did not look up, her eyes filled with sorrow. Her front claw rested on the edge of his black scales. “Blake, you're right... but he saved me. Back in the ruins, he blocked the attack for me.”
“So he died, and you lived,” the grayish-blue dragon said, flicking his tail. “That is his end.”
He turned and took two steps toward the cave entrance, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
“Isabella, you are the only white dragon in our clutch. Your bloodline is much stronger than that black-scaled mongrel's. Come with me, and I will help you survive.”
“I'm not leaving.”
The grayish-blue dragon narrowed his eyes. “Are you crazy?”
“I'm not crazy. He just hasn't woken up yet...”
“He's dead!”
“No, I don't want to,” Isabella wept. “Leopold... wake up quickly... please...”
Leopold?
Was that his name? No, that wasn't right. His name wasn't Leopold.
Let him think. He was called... called... Wait, what was his name again?
He opened his eyes. Black front claws, black scales, golden blood scattered everywhere on the ground, and a pure white dragon weeping softly in front of him.
Wait, human blood wasn't golden!
He suddenly pushed his upper body up, letting out a low, hoarse hiss from his throat. His golden pupils blinked. Leopold—no, "he," as he should be called now—finally took in the full view of the cave.
“You...” Isabella's voice was filled with pleasant surprise. “You're really alive?”
She drew closer, her icy-blue vertical pupils reflecting his image. The white dragon's breath brushed against his cheek, carrying a bloody scent, but also... the scent of pine and cream? Strange, why could he smell that?
“I...” He sat up straight and exhaled a breath of turbid air. “I'm alive, but... who am I?”
Isabella was stunned.
Blake let out a short sneer. “Dragons with inherited memories don't get amnesia. Stop pretending, Leopold.”
"Leopold" had also realized by now. He had transmigrated. According to the original owner's memories, his full name was Leopold Aldrick von Tann.
He was a night black dragon with blood that wasn't entirely pure, currently being hunted by the world's number one race, the Angelic God Race. As for why they were being hunted, according to the original owner's inherited memories, it was because the dragon clan had lost a war thirteen hundred years ago.
Yet, he still couldn't remember what his original name was.
Forget it, that name probably wasn't important anymore. What use would a modern human's name be in the world of dragons? Was he supposed to introduce himself to the grayish-blue young dragon opposite him by saying, “Hello, my name is Zhang Wei”?
“I don't have amnesia,” he spoke again, his golden pupils refocusing. “I know who I am. Leopold Aldrick von Tann.”
The grayish-blue dragon, Blake, stood at the cave entrance and tilted his head, his slate-gray vertical pupils devoid of warmth.
“Do you still remember how you were attacked just now?”
Leopold blanked for a moment.
There were indeed some fragments of related memories in his head—the silver spears of angels, the blinding white light, and the wind pressure whipped up by flapping wings.
“I don't remember...”
“Hmph! Consider yourself lucky,” Blake flicked the tip of his tail. “But the next time the angels catch up, you'll still die.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the cave entrance.
“Isabella, I will say this one last time. You know very well how thin that black dragon's bloodline is. The only reason he has lived to this day is because of your protection.”
“If you take him with you, neither of you will survive. But if you come with me, at least you can live.”
The air in the cave froze for a moment. Isabella's front claw was still resting on Leopold. She could feel the warmth flowing through his body once more. She never wanted to experience this feeling of almost losing him again...
“I'm not leaving.” Isabella's gaze was resolute, leaving Blake momentarily speechless.
“You really are foolish,” Blake's voice came from the cave entrance, devoid of anger.
“The dragon clan is finished. You and I both know it. Whether it's those ancient dragons waiting to die in the ruins of the dragon nests, the subspecies hiding underground who don't dare show their faces, or the mongrels who don't even know their own lineage—they're all finished.”
“Blake...” Isabella's voice trailed off.
Blake turned around to face the two dragons in the cave.
“Am I wrong?” His voice echoed clearly inside the cave. “One thousand three hundred years. We've been hiding for one thousand three hundred years. We went from being the masters of the sky to rats in a hole!”
Leopold remained silent. He knew this, of course.
The original owner's inherited memories floated in his mind: six of the seven great dragon nests had fallen, the allied forces of the number one race had crushed countless dragon corpses, and the survivors were scattered across ruins all over the world. Some were in deep slumber, some were hiding, and others were being slowly hunted down...
But Leopold smiled. He slowly stood up from the ground. The bleeding had already stopped. He narrowed his noble golden pupils and said to Blake,
“So, are you finished talking?”
The expression on Blake's face froze. He hadn't expected Leopold, with his lowly bloodline, to talk back.
“What?”
“I said, are you finished talking?” Leopold repeated, taking a step forward.
“I'm not wrong, Leopold!”
“You are indeed not wrong.” Leopold nodded unexpectedly, causing Blake's pupils to contract. “But because of that, we should stick together even more. Only then can we survive and rebuild the dragon clan together.”
“Rebuild the dragon clan?” Blake burst into laughter. He turned around, facing Leopold head-on. “Do you even hear what you're saying?”
“We lost! We are the losers!”
Before Blake could finish speaking, the wind outside the cave suddenly stopped. The air inside the cave seemed to solidify along with it, becoming so heavy and suffocating that it was hard to breathe.
Leopold felt the wound that had just stopped bleeding suddenly throb—it was an instinct deep within his bloodline, a dragon's perception of enemies...
Boom—!
Before they could react, rubble exploded from the cave ceiling. A streak of silver light pierced through the rock, narrowly grazing the top of Blake's head before instantly pinning itself into the opposite stone wall, causing the entire cave to shake violently.
Blake was knocked flat to the ground by the shockwave. But there was no time to breathe; immediately after, another streak of silver light pierced in from outside the cave, landing precisely in front of Leopold. Stone shards flew, and dust billowed.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The continuous explosions echoed inside the narrow cave, making their eardrums throb with pain.
“Run!” Blake scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Rate on N.U.
