Chapter 1068: The Gift

It had been a long time.

When he saw the blue dragon descending onto the plaza, a strange thought suddenly crossed High King’s mind—though in reality, it had only been a little over two months since he last met Melita. Yet the feeling of how much had changed, how much was no longer the same, settled over him and lingered. It wasn’t until the dragon gave a slight nod that he finally understood where this feeling came from.

It wasn’t just because so many earth-shattering events had unfolded in the past two months, nor simply because the history between Talrond and the human world had shifted so dramatically at this turning point. The main reason was the unmistakable difference in the aura emanating from that massive, majestic blue dragon—and the striking changes in her appearance.

He stepped down from the dais and approached Melita. He noticed that her enormous body was still marked with many visible scars. The most shocking was a long, jagged wound running down her neck and continuing through nearly half her torso. The once flawless scales, carefully maintained by mechanical caretakers and advanced compounds, were now weathered and worn. Fresh scars, as if from recent surgeries, were scattered across her limbs.

It wasn’t just Melita. The other dragons who had landed with her bore similar injuries, their wounds exposed for all to see. The crowd around the plaza fell silent upon witnessing the battered forms of these dragons.

Most people didn’t know what had happened in Talrond, nor could they imagine how these dragons had sustained such injuries. But the brutal scars themselves spoke volumes—they were silent symbols of the blood and smoke of the godslayer battlefield. The aura of battle-hardened resilience was even more tangible than the dragons’ natural presence, inspiring a deep, heartfelt awe.

High King approached the delegation of seven dragons. The oppressive stillness hanging over the plaza finally began to ease with his steps. Countless eyes turned toward the center, where Melita slightly shifted her body. Her long neck lowered until she was nearly face-to-face with him.

“Greetings, Emperor of the Cecile Empire,” she said solemnly. “On behalf of Talrond, I come bearing peace and goodwill to your realm.”

Once the acting steward of the Mithril Treasury, now the ambassador of the dragon kingdom, Melita’s formal diplomatic tone felt a little stiff, but High King maintained a steady expression. He nodded slightly, smiling.

“On behalf of the Cecile Empire, I welcome all visitors from the dragon kingdom. Friendly guests will always be friends of this land.”

Melita seemed to smile—a subtle expression, but High King thought the row of fangs stretching nearly a meter wide was a clear sign of it. She then tilted her body slightly, one wing drooping toward the ground.

“I have also brought your envoy—Lady Cassandra, whose role in this exchange is significant. Additionally, I bring a gift from Talrond, which I hope will meet your approval.”

For some reason, High King noticed a slight hesitation in her voice when she mentioned “Lady Cassandra,” but the small doubt didn’t distract him. Soon, a beautiful woman with black hair and a teardrop-shaped mole at the corner of her eye appeared behind Melita. Her lower body was a serpent’s tail, her posture mature and graceful. After waving to the nearby crowd, she swiftly slithered along the dragon’s wing toward High King. Her fluid, serpentine movement caught many by surprise, and some instinctively glanced toward Tyr, the local sea witch, who was craning his neck nearby to watch the spectacle.

To most ordinary Cecilians, sea witches remained a mysterious and rare race. Those who had seen them in the city mostly knew of Tyr, the only local sea witch. Due to limited publicity and common knowledge, most people assumed sea witches moved by crawling…

This little misconception even caught High King off guard—but it was harmless.

The sea witches themselves were easygoing about such things.

Meanwhile, the other dragons accompanying Melita began to busy themselves. With magical assistance, they started unloading numerous packed crates from their backs onto the ground. The prepared convoy and staff around the plaza moved forward to register and receive the gifts. The media present didn’t miss a beat, focusing their recording devices on the moment.

Everything happening today was unprecedented. Every image captured held special significance. Scholars and reporters alike knew that any footage or words recorded now might well become part of the historical record years from now.

High King’s attention was drawn to the various crates, but he only glanced over them without asking questions. This was a formal official meeting with strict protocols, and it wasn’t yet time to accept the gifts. His curiosity would have to wait until the banquet later.

Still, as his gaze swept over the crates, it suddenly paused. A strange intuition stirred within him, drawing his eyes to one particular box.

It was a heavy, sturdy metal chest covered in dense draconic runes. It was clearly well-protected—three dragons’ gazes never left it from the moment it was unloaded. Its importance was obvious.

“That box…” High King finally spoke, trusting his legendary instincts. “What is it?”

Melita lowered her head. “It is the most special ‘gift.’ But because it is so unique, it is not listed on the inventory. I will personally deliver it to you later.”

High King blinked in surprise.

…

Night fell, stars blanketed the sky, and the grand, solemn welcome ceremony finally concluded. A lavish banquet was held at the “Autumn Palace” near the Cecile Palace.

It was likely the most magnificent feast held here since the last visit of the Typhon envoy, Matilda. The court chefs had resolved to showcase the finest human delicacies to the dragons, while the invited imperial officials and representatives from all walks of life would do their best to display the dignity and grace of human civilization. After all, dragons were almost legendary to humans, shrouded in mystery for countless years. Today marked the first day of unveiling that mystery.

The vast banquet hall was brightly lit, the aroma of fine food and wine filling the air between tables and chairs. Light, lively music played softly. The dragon envoys, now in human form, were treated with great hospitality. As the delegation’s representative, Talrond’s ambassador Melita Pernia was naturally seated beside High King.

Only now did High King find a moment to relax and speak with Melita.

“When you arrived at the Northern Port, Cassandra reported some of the situation to me,” High King said, looking at the blue dragon. “She spoke of what happened in Talrond—some of it. You shattered the cradle; the entire Arctic continent has become a wasteland of war. Survivors are fewer than one in ten… Even with just fragments of description, I can imagine the scene. Honestly, I was shocked, even somewhat in awe. It was a war beyond our imagination, a cost too great to bear.”

“We have also learned of what happened in the human world,” Melita’s gaze shifted from the banquet hall back to High King. “It was also a war deciding the survival of our races, and it shocked us as well.”

“We paid a heavy price too—perhaps not comparable to yours, but in essence, we did the same thing,” High King shook his head, swirling the bright red wine in his glass. The flickering light reflected in the liquid made him feel as if he were back on the battlefield of Winter Fortress, surrounded by fire and explosions. “We… killed our own gods.”

“We killed our own gods,” Melita softly echoed. “In the name of freedom and survival.”

“This world is cruel, so cruel that many times we don’t even have the right to choose our own path,” High King said quietly. Then, looking into Melita’s eyes, his expression grew solemn. “But no matter what, we have finally cracked the first fissure in this frozen cruelty. Mortal races now have a chance to breathe.”

“Yes, we accomplished this feat together,” Melita smiled calmly. “So now, dragons and humans are natural allies.”

She paused, then continued earnestly, “We know you are striving to build a new order among mortal nations, to unite all mortal powers against the disasters of this world. I can promise you here—Talrond is here to support your endeavor. Under any circumstances, as long as your original intention remains unchanged, the dragons will be Cecile’s eternal allies.”

High King’s expression turned grave. Meeting Melita’s gaze, he said after a moment, “I knew your purpose when I received Cassandra’s message, but I didn’t expect such resolve… And it sounds like you’ve placed all your faith in Cecile.”

“Because this upheaval began with Cecile, and in the foreseeable future, it will follow the path you envision,” Melita said seriously. “As for why we are so determined…”

She smiled wryly, a trace of self-mockery on her face.

“Talrond is no longer what it once was—you mentioned Cassandra’s report, but I must say, no matter how detailed her report was, the reality of Talrond is even worse than you imagine. The dragons have fallen into dire straits. We now rely on our innate strengths and the remaining resources of the wasteland to maintain the semblance of a ‘civilization.’ Frankly, if we want to survive going forward, we may even need external support. In this situation, we have few choices left, and naturally, no room for pointless pride or hesitation.”

High King looked at Melita with some surprise. “You’re very frank with me.”

Melita smiled. “Because we are friends.”

“…Very well. Then I hope Talrond and Cecile can truly become friends,” High King smiled, raising his glass. “To friendship—and our shared survival.”

“To friendship and shared survival,” Melita echoed, raising her glass. Then, glancing toward the banquet hall, she hesitated before reminding him, “Do you remember the dragons’ special way of ‘eating’?”

High King paused, then nodded. “Of course. You need ‘two meals’—don’t worry, we’ve prepared plenty of food outside this banquet. You and your friends will be treated to the best.”

Melita breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment’s thought, High King couldn’t help but ask, “By the way, what exactly is inside that ‘special’ big box you mentioned?”

“You seem very curious,” Melita replied with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” Gawain nodded. “It’s mainly because I have this feeling… I can’t quite explain it, but it’s as if I can sense some kind of presence. Whatever’s inside that box seems to be drawing me in.”

At once, Melita’s eyes widened slightly. After a moment, she shook her head with a hint of awe. “I see… No wonder it was entrusted to you. Looks like everything was planned all along.”

“Planned?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “So what exactly is inside that box?”

“Time’s about right…” Melita looked up, noticing the atmosphere in the banquet hall beginning to calm. A fresh group of attendants entered, and the band switched tunes. From her understanding of human customs, this meant the formal part of the feast was winding down. “I’ll tell you after the banquet.”

…

The dinner ended, all follow-up arrangements settled. Gawain returned to his palace, and not long after, Melita came as promised.

In the main hall on the first floor, all unrelated personnel had been dismissed in advance. As Melita had warned, only Gawain’s closest confidants remained: Amber, Hetty, and Rebecca.

In the center stood a large metal box, heavily protected by layers of runes. Gawain and the others gathered around it. Rebecca eyed the box curiously, struggling to resist the urge to poke it, but finally managed to hold back. “Ancestor, what is this thing?”

“Melita, you can reveal the answer now,” Gawain said, turning to the blue dragon maiden standing beside the box. “What exactly is it?”

This time, Melita didn’t hesitate. She placed her hand on the box’s surface. As the runes lit up one by one, the faint sound of mechanical locks releasing echoed softly. The lid slowly opened outward, revealing a softly glowing orb bathed in pale golden light.

“This is a dragon egg,” Melita said, drawing a breath, her tone solemn. “And now, it’s entrusted to your care.”

Gawain blinked. “…Huh?”

At the same moment, three pairs of eyes fixed on him.

Melita inhaled again, her expression even more serious. “Our goddess left a command after her fall, entrusting this egg to you.”

Gawain: “…Huh?”

The three pairs of eyes around him grew even stranger.

(The comic adaptation of The Chronicles of the Unusual Beasts needs your support! The Airem arc is nearing its end—time to make a big move. You can follow the series on Bilibili Comics.)

(End of chapter)