Chapter 1120: Gradual Awakening

A surprise?

Melita looked at her friend’s radiant smile. Though her mind was still brimming with stories from the continent of Loren she longed to share, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity and anticipation about the “surprise” Noretta had mentioned. With that hopeful feeling, she followed Noretta back to their dwelling in the coastal camp.

The temporary shelter, built from salvaged materials and massive stones from the shore, was still crude—nowhere near the golden splendor of the upper Talrond palaces they once knew, and even less refined than the human homes in Loren. Yet, this refuge, painstakingly constructed brick by brick by their kin, gave Melita a sense of comfort. Passing through the now much-expanded camp, she returned to the doorstep of her “home,” which she hadn’t seen in over half a month. The moment she pushed open the door, a deep sense of “coming home” welled up inside her, coaxing a small, relieved smile as her restless thoughts began to settle.

Then her eyes fell on the largest open space inside the house, where a dragon egg stood upright, surrounded by magical runes. These runes clearly maintained a constant temperature and stored energy, radiating a gentle warmth and arcane currents that slowly nourished the egg’s pale yellow shell, speckled with faint purple spots.

In the corner of the room was an egg-shaped incubation pod, its hatch open. The dragon egg had once been kept inside, but now the pod was defunct, repurposed as a storage container cluttered with Noretta’s personal belongings.

Melita: “…”

“I adopted a dragon egg!” Noretta’s voice suddenly came from behind, jolting Melita out of her daze. “It’s a beautiful blue dragon—just like you. Actually, I first wanted to adopt a white dragon, but then I thought, I’d rather watch a little version of Melita grow up step by step…”

A dragon egg. A dragon egg… Melita’s heart skipped a beat. For some reason, her mind immediately flashed back to the moment not long ago at Dragon’s Keep when she suddenly received a message from Cecil. Two phrases echoed repeatedly in her head: “Regarding the dragon egg sent from Talrond…” and “It spoke…”

For the first time in her life, Melita realized she was allergic to the word “dragon egg”—not the egg itself, but the word.

“Melita?” Noretta noticed her friend’s sudden silence and frowned with concern. “Are you okay? Are you just tired from the long flight? Sorry, I only wanted to surprise you and forgot you might need rest…”

“No, no, I’m not tired. It’s just…” Melita opened her mouth but didn’t know where to start. She could only point at the egg and twitch the corner of her mouth. “So this is the surprise you prepared for me?”

“Yes,” Noretta nodded, looking a bit flustered. Clearly, Melita’s reaction was not what she had expected. “We had talked about adopting a dragon egg before, right? But before we could submit the application, you were suddenly sent on a mission to Loren. The camp’s situation has improved lately—food supplies and everyone’s survival skills have gotten better—so Agondor opened up more dragon egg adoption slots. I applied for one and was approved quickly…”

She glanced at Melita worriedly. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to adopt it anymore? But adopting a dragon egg is a serious matter. Once you apply, you can’t just back out…”

“Oh no, of course not,” Melita finally shook off the loop of those two phrases in her mind. She knew her reaction had caused a misunderstanding and quickly waved her hands. “I’m happy! We did say we wanted to adopt a dragon egg. Hatching a hatchling is a contribution to Talrond’s revival—that’s a good thing. I’m just… surprised, and maybe a little on edge.”

“On edge?” Noretta looked Melita up and down suspiciously. “What’s there to be on edge about?”

Because the egg she recently sent to Cecil had already started talking! Because the Dragon God had now become an egg that drank tea, read newspapers, and talked all day!!

Melita’s face twitched twice, but in the end, she swallowed all her words. These matters couldn’t be casually shared before reporting upward—even with a close friend like Noretta.

“Nothing, maybe I’m just overwhelmed by everything I experienced in Loren. I haven’t quite adjusted yet,” the blue dragon lady forced a small, awkward smile, then turned her attention back to the egg in the center of the room. As her emotions calmed, a sense of reality finally settled in. Her gaze softened as she looked at the dragon egg. “A dragon egg… Not long ago, I never imagined I’d ever choose to hatch one. I always thought it was something far removed from me—at least for the next twenty millennia.”

Noretta studied Melita’s expression carefully. She sensed her friend was hiding something but, knowing her well after so many years, didn’t press further. Instead, she nodded gently. “I understand. After all, like you, I’m a high-level operative custom-made by the biotech company—no parents, no siblings, no innate social ties. Our family bonds were diluted by genetic modification. Normally, upper-class dragons like us, created by the company, might never hatch our own ‘children’ in a lifetime… But now, everything’s changed.”

Melita smiled and suddenly grew curious about the egg. “By the way, have you thought of a name yet?”

“Not yet. I plan to wait until the little one hatches,” Noretta shook her head. “Two other families in the camp have also adopted dragon eggs. Everyone’s waiting to name their hatchlings after they emerge.”

“Families… that’s such a distant concept for us custom operatives,” Melita murmured. Then, a curious thought struck her. “But then, wouldn’t that mean our hatchlings have two ‘mothers’?”

“Is that a problem?” Noretta blinked. “The hatchling next door will have three fathers! After all, these eggs were all adopted—there aren’t many conditions for normal families in this wasteland anymore…”

Melita thought it over and realized it didn’t seem so strange after all.

Then another question came to her: “How much longer until our egg hatches?”

“This egg was already in the third stage of incubation at the factory. Since then, its protective pod has maintained its vitality. It looks like it will hatch successfully soon—maybe in less than a month,” Noretta said quickly. “I’ve set up a constant temperature environment and use my magic daily to replenish the runes’ energy. If you come help, we can take turns staying by the egg. That might speed up the hatching process.”

Melita pictured herself trying to hatch the egg soon, and her expression twisted oddly. She couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nervousness. But when she saw Noretta’s smile and heard the sounds of their kin working outside to build the camp, her turbulent thoughts gradually calmed. That strange expression finally softened into a smile.

“Of course, I’ll come help as soon as I can. But before that, I need to visit Agondor. Speaker Andal and Leader Heragor are still waiting for my report.”

…

The mountain city of Agondor—once a place of grandeur—had been reduced to ruins by a devastating war. The majestic palaces that once crowned the peaks were now dust, and the proud temples and sanctuaries of the citizens had become nothing more than echoes of a mythic age.

Now, the reborn Agondor lay at the edge of the old city’s ruins, nestled at the foot of the main peak. Before the war, this was part of “Lower Talrond,” a dense sprawl of towering buildings and intricate skybridges that blocked out the sun for most of the day—even during the endless daylight of summer, this area was shrouded in artificial twilight. But everything changed. The war destroyed it all, along with Talrond’s stratified society. The colossal structures and transport grids melted into the earth, replaced by scattered ruins and crude new buildings that now bask fairly in the sunlight.

Heragor stood atop a high platform in the center of this makeshift “capital,” his pale golden vertical pupils reflecting the distant cityscape. A group of great dragons was clearing vast rubble from the city’s southwest corner. Without heavy machinery, they relied on their innate strength and magic to tackle the daunting task. Fortunately, after so long adapting, even dragons once pampered by the “Cradle” and nearly stripped of survival skills had begun to learn the art of labor. Working together, they methodically removed debris made mostly of molten metal and high-strength polymers.

The salvaged materials weren’t destroyed but sent to the nearest “dismantling yard.” Speaker Andal had guided the young dragons in building large elemental refining pits there, using ancient wisdom. Before leaving, Balogor had left blueprints and documents to help the engineers understand how to extract usable raw materials from the scrapped facilities.

The “junk” dug from the ruins was given new life in the dismantling yard—precious resources for rebuilding the city.

Heragor surveyed the growing clusters of buildings. Everything here had been expanded from the original “refuge camp.” Though now several times larger, it was still essentially a vastly enlarged refugee camp: rough but functional temporary homes, public facilities built on sturdy old factory frames, simple machine and medical stations scattered throughout the city, all barely adequate but arranged neatly. There was little beauty in the appearance.

Since the last flare-up of conflict, Agondor had become the largest gathering place on the plains. More and more displaced kin arrived—some found by patrol squads, others seeking shelter voluntarily. These newcomers eased the urgent labor shortage but also strained the city’s capacity. So practicality was paramount—no matter how it looked, at least everyone had a roof over their heads.

Yet, to Heragor, this hastily built refuge city, though far from beautiful, held a different kind of touching “beauty.” Those roughly shaped, even somewhat ugly buildings pulsed with a vibrant energy—the “soul” the dragons had lost for 1.87 million years. Compared to that, the once-glorious Talrond palaces seemed more like ornate tombs—filled with bones long since rotted away.

Footsteps approached from beside him, pulling Hragor out of his reverie. The former High Dragon Priest turned toward the sound and saw Andar stepping onto the raised platform.

“The delegation led by Melita has returned from Loren,” Andar told Hragor. “They’re currently resting in Seaboard County.”

Seaboard County was the name the dragons had given to the forward camp on the Broken Coast. As the camp gradually expanded, the safety zone around the Broken Coast stabilized, and the name—carrying a hint of poetry and hopeful longing—began to feel fitting.

Hragor nodded. “The last news we received was that the Theocratic Council has been officially established, and the first batch of supplies from the Food Committee will soon arrive at Cecil’s North Harbor. Both are enough to boost morale, especially the latter.”

“None of us expected the nations of Loren to organize such a large-scale, rapid relief effort,” Andar said with a note of awe. “According to our estimates, even if Melita managed to convince the wealthiest human kingdoms in the shortest time, the aid wouldn’t have been ready until late summer—or even late autumn—in the Northern Hemisphere. Meanwhile, we were facing months of food shortages.”

“Gawain Cecil… this time, Talrond owes a great debt,” Hragor said gravely.

“It seems our god foresaw that the greatest variable this season would center on that human,” Andar mused. “He even entrusted his legacy to him before departing. Though we’ve broken free from the chains of faith, we must admit that a god’s judgment is far more far-sighted than a mortal’s.”

“Legacy…” Hragor’s expression shifted oddly as he listened to Andar. “I still hesitate to be sure. When the god left, he said he was entrusting ‘all of this’ to Gawain Cecil. But does ‘all of this’ include the egg? That phrase can be interpreted two ways—‘all of this’ might only mean knowledge and intelligence…”

“Why bring this up now?” Andar asked. “We already sent the egg over.”

“True,” Hragor said after a moment’s thought, then smiled wryly. “Maybe I’m just sensitive about this. After all, this land was not only our prison but bound him for a million years. Now that his ‘legacy’ can leave and travel to the distant continent of Loren, if he still knows of it, I’m sure he’d be glad.”

“I think so too.”

(End of chapter)