Leopold found himself in a patch of darkness, but he did not feel afraid.
This feeling... was very familiar. It was just like the void before entering the Primordial Dragon's space during his first slumber—limitless, silent, and scentless.
He looked down at himself. He was still wearing his purple robe, which was covered in dust and bloodstains. He tried to take a step forward, but there was no ground beneath him, leaving him suspended in mid-air.
“...Another dream?”
No one answered. He continued forward, or rather, he felt as though he were moving forward.
“Is anyone there?” Leopold shouted into the distance, not even sure why he was calling out such meaningless words.
There was no response. Only endless darkness churned around him, his voice echoing to the very edge of the boundless space.
“As I thought...” Leopold rubbed his brow. Had he fallen into a slumber ahead of schedule? If that was the case, it would be troublesome.
“You have come—” a deep, resonant voice said, carrying an infinite pressure that bore down on Leopold.
Leopold whipped his head around, but there was nothing behind him.
“Who is there?”
“You know in your heart,” the voice said.
“The Primordial Dragon?”
“You have learned to use your brain, little one.” The darkness began to contract, and a blurry silhouette slowly coalesced in front of him. However, it was incomplete this time; only a pair of dark golden slit pupils hovered in the void.
Leopold stared at those eyes. He noticed something.
“Your body...”
“Yes, I suffered a minor injury,” the Primordial Dragon's voice remained calm. “There is no need to make a fuss. It is not fatal.”
“Even the Primordial Dark Dragon can get hurt?”
The dark golden slit pupils narrowed. “Little one, are you trying to test my limits, or are you concerned about me?”
“Both.”
The Primordial Dragon fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter.
“You brat, you accepted my blessing, yet you fought so miserably. You are like a foolish dragon biting its own tail.”
Leopold stood in place without offering any excuses. He knew himself that it had indeed been a miserable fight.
“Are you wondering why, despite receiving the Shadow Blessing, you still couldn't defeat those few goblins enhanced by inferior magic?”
Leopold fell silent for a brief moment before finally speaking, “...Yes. I received your Shadow Blessing, but I feel like I can't even draw out a tenth of its power.”
“That is because you are using the blessing as if you were using magic,” the Primordial Dragon said testily. “That is a blessing! Something countless people in this world yearn for but can never obtain!”
“...As if I were using magic.”
“Yes.” The Primordial Dragon snorted coldly, finally looking Leopold squarely in the eyes. “You chant incantations, channel mana, and cast spells—that is how a mage uses it. But a blessing is something etched into your very bloodline.”
The dark golden slit pupils shifted slightly in the darkness. “Do you need to chant a spell to breathe? Do you need to channel mana for your heart to beat?”
Leopold opened his mouth, then closed it.
“...I do not need to chant a spell to breathe,” he repeated in a low voice. “I do not need to channel mana for my heart to beat.”
He looked up, meeting the dark golden eyes. “Then the Shadow Blessing... should be as natural as breathing?”
“You are finally starting to understand,” the Primordial Dragon's voice carried a trace of barely perceptible satisfaction. “But I fear your foolish brain still won't grasp it fully.”
The dark golden slit pupils suddenly drew close, so close that Leopold could even make out the dark silver patterns flowing deep within them.
“Strike me.”
“...What?”
“Strike me,” the Primordial Dragon commanded, leaving no room for argument. “Strike me with your blessing.”
Leopold hesitated for a brief second before clenching his right fist. Subconsciously, he began to channel mana within his body.
“Stop,” the Primordial Dragon's voice suddenly turned cold. “What are you doing?”
“...I am channeling mana,” he answered honestly.
“And then?”
“And then... then strike you with my fist?”
The Primordial Dragon let out an extremely long, disdainful sigh.
“You foolish dragon. Using a magic-channeling method to drive a blessing is like trying to swing a sword with a bow-drawing stance—it is not impossible, but you will never unleash its true power.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Put your fist down.”
Leopold lowered his fist.
“Now, close your eyes.”
Leopold closed his eyes.
“Do not think of mana, do not think of spells. Do not think of anything you learned from that trashy elven book.”
“...Then what should I think of?”
“Think of your shadow,” the Primordial Dragon's voice grew deep in the darkness, sounding as if it were sinking into deep water.
“Think of it beneath your feet, by your side, between your every breath. It is not something you summon—it is your other half.”
Leopold stood in place with his eyes closed, yet his vision felt clearer than when they were open. He could “see” things wrapped around his body, clinging to his skin and rising and falling with his breath.
“Do you feel it now?” the Primordial Dragon's voice drifted down from above.
“...There is something on me.”
“What is it?”
Leopold opened his mouth, then closed it. He had originally wanted to say “it is shadow,” but that was clearly not the answer. Shadows were the black claws and shields he summoned using magic.
But at this moment, rather than calling it shadow, it was more like a part of his own body!
“It... is me.”
“At least you are not completely beyond saving. Go back, Leopold. You must lead the dragon clan down a different path!”
Leopold opened his eyes, and the pair of dark golden slit pupils was still hovering in front of him.
In the next instant, the fluorite at the top of the cave emitted a faint blue glow, and the sound of the underground river echoed faintly from afar.
“Where am I...” Leopold realized he was lying in bed. He moved slightly, and the wound on his back immediately throbbed with a sharp pain.
“Ah, Leo, you're awake?” Isabella was lying beside him, her ice-blue eyes watching him.
“Yeah. I remember sitting in the chair, didn't I?” Leopold looked down at the bed beneath him, then turned to look at Isabella.
She slowly propped herself up, her long white hair falling somewhat messily over her shoulders. “Well, I saw how uncomfortably you were sleeping, so I moved you to the bed.”
“Eh? When?”
Isabella couldn't help but laugh at his expression. “Leo, you slept so deeply. If I were a bad person, you would have been in big trouble...”
“Ahem... You moved me?” Leopold's ears instantly flushed red.
“Yes.” Isabella spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You were leaning against the chair with your head tilted like that. Your neck would have definitely hurt when you woke up.”
“By the way, how are your injuries?” Leopold propped himself up against the edge of the bed and sat up.
“They're mostly healed. The goblin medical team was indeed very thorough.”
“That's good.” Leopold breathed a sigh of relief. He swept his gaze over her, completely relaxing only after confirming there were no visible wounds.
The cave fell silent, save for the distant sound of the underground river.
Isabella did not speak either. She sat on the edge of the bed with her legs together and her hands resting on her knees, staring straight ahead without moving an inch.
Leopold felt a bit awkward. He gave a dry cough and rubbed the back of his neck.
“...What are you thinking about?”
“The war has begun, Leo.”
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