Chapter 1202: A Warning Sign

It seemed today was destined to be full of unexpected events.

Hearing Betty’s excited voice, Gawain froze for a moment before instinctively glancing at Melita beside him. The blue dragon maiden was staring at him with equal surprise. The two of them stood there dumbfounded for several seconds before finally reacting at the same time. Melita was the first to speak, her voice brimming with joy: “They’ve hatched?! They’re already out?”

Gawain quickly followed up, “Is it a boy egg or a girl… I mean, is it a boy or a girl?”

Betty shook her head eagerly. “Not yet, but almost! The shell’s already cracked—Lady Enya said they’ll be out soon, so she told me to come and notify you right away…”

“Then let’s go, let’s go!” Gawain immediately quickened his pace, motioning for Melita to hurry after him. “You better keep up—after all, it was your egg. We can’t have the little one breaking out and not seeing you…”

Melita didn’t wait for the reminder; she was already moving forward, swiftly tracing a few runes in the air as she caught up with Gawain. “I’ll send a message to Noretta first. She doesn’t know about this yet…”

The three of them—Gawain, Melita, and Betty—hurried down the not-so-long corridor. Before long, they reached the hatchery door. Even before pushing it open, Gawain caught faint sounds from inside—a joyful, almost baby-like cry, the flutter of wings, the patter of wet feet on the floor, and Enya’s gentle, slightly exasperated voice trying to soothe them. These sounds made both Gawain and Melita widen their eyes in amazement.

“They’ve hatched already?!” They exchanged a glance, then without hesitation pushed the door open together. After all, a strong dragon hatchling wouldn’t be bothered by a little draft.

Stepping into the bright, warm hatchery, the scene before Gawain’s eyes was unforgettable. At the center stood Enya, and nearby was a tiny wyvern covered in fine blue scales, wobbling as it perched atop a golden eggshell. The little one was trying to spread its wings to keep balance, curiously looking around with that unique blend of cuteness and liveliness only a hatchling could have.

Melita smiled, instinctively stepping forward—but before she could move, a sharp cry came from her feet. Both she and Gawain looked down in surprise to see another blue hatchling, still a bit damp, lying on the floor. It lifted its head, flapped its wings, and let out a series of excited, curious, and proud chirps.

Gawain: “?”

Melita: “?”

Behind them, Betty finally squeezed her head through the doorframe, taking in the scene inside. After a brief pause, she exclaimed, “Wow—”

“Ah, Gawain, Melita—you’re here,” Enya’s warm, amused voice came from the golden eggshell. “Welcome. As you can see, things are a bit busy here right now…”

“Wait, two of them?” Melita suddenly realized, murmuring in disbelief, “I only brought one egg…”

The runes on the golden egg flickered faintly. Enya’s tone turned a little strange. “The egg you brought… was a double-yolk.”

“A double-yolk egg can hatch two hatchlings?” Gawain immediately felt something was off. His mind raced as he muttered, “I thought double-yolk eggs usually can’t hatch at all because of nutritional issues. Let alone two hatchlings, normally not even one survives…”

Melita blinked, curious. “Are you talking about dragons?”

Gawain thought for a moment. “…I might have been thinking about chicken eggs.”

Melita’s expression shifted. “…Are you serious?”

“…Maybe we should change the subject.” Gawain awkwardly scratched his nose, realizing how far off his comparison was. Wisely, he dropped the topic. But Enya spoke up again: “Normally, such dragon eggs are indeed difficult to hatch. Though not as impossible as double-yolk eggs of other oviparous creatures, their survival rate is much lower than regular dragon eggs. In ancient Talrond, these eggs would be culled before entering the hatchery. But now, with the hatchery factories gone and Talrond desperate to restore its dragon populations, even these ‘special’ eggs are valuable sources of hatchlings and still worth incubating…”

As Enya explained seriously, the two lively hatchlings didn’t stay still for a moment. The one that had been perched on the eggshell hopped down and joined its sibling on the floor. They circled Gawain and Melita several times, then dashed around Enya, chasing each other and letting out sharp, high-pitched calls. Even at this young age, their strength and energy were impressive.

Melita’s expression turned a bit worried after hearing Enya’s explanation. As a “custom dragon” born from a biotech company, her knowledge was on par with her peers. “So… these two little ones are healthy, right?”

She edged closer to the nearest hatchling, her nervousness making her seem more like a child than a mother. Carefully, she took a couple of steps forward and reached out—but the hatchling suddenly spread its wings and let out a sharp cry. Melita quickly pulled back her hand, startled.

But the cry wasn’t a threat—it was more like a greeting. The little one bounced forward a couple of steps and stretched out its neck. Seeing this, Melita gathered her courage and gently touched the hatchling’s head, as if handling fragile porcelain. She felt a warm, delicate layer of scales beneath her fingers. The sensation surprised her, and her eyes widened. Then a soft smile spread across her face.

At that moment, she noticed something unusual—a faint blue glow, like flowing blood, shimmered between the scales along the hatchling’s neck and back. It was a tangible magical aura, flowing just beneath the skin through the scale gaps. In the hatchling’s curious eyes, she also saw a faint magical sparkle, like tiny stars twinkling deep within.

Normally, even dragons born with strong innate magic wouldn’t show such obvious signs of magical corruption or mutation right after hatching.

Enya’s voice came from the golden egg again: “Both little ones are healthy, as you can see—full of life and energy. But you’ve probably noticed those abnormalities.”

“What’s with the magical corruption?” Melita gently stroked the hatchling’s neck, looking up at Enya with concern. The other hatchling was hopping around nearby, eventually squeezing under Melita’s arm after some hesitation. “And the eyes… is that a physiological mutation?”

“It is magical corruption, and it happened during the egg stage,” Enya said slowly. “But don’t worry too much—I’ve already examined them. This corruption doesn’t affect their health. In fact, in the long run, this innate magical imprint can even be beneficial.”

Listening to their conversation, Gawain sensed something was amiss. He stepped forward and crouched beside the hatchlings. “Melita, is there a problem? Oh, by the way, are these two boys or girls?”

He suddenly realized he hadn’t figured out this crucial detail. To humans, dragon genders were nearly impossible to distinguish. In fact, without hearing their voices, he couldn’t even tell one dragon’s face from another’s. After Melita transformed and joined the dragon clan, he’d never been able to find her…

Melita gave him a surprised look, then answered matter-of-factly, “Two beautiful little girls—can’t you tell?”

Gawain was perfectly honest. “How could I? All dragons look the same to me, maybe just different colors…”

“…Well, I guess that’s understandable,” Melita seemed about to tease him but sighed instead, turning her attention back to the hatchlings. “Looks like there’s no major problem. These two probably experienced some intense environmental changes during the egg stage, which caused the magical corruption…”

Before she finished, Enya added calmly, “Dragons are extremely sensitive to magical environments. Changes around the egg stage often leave marks on them. In ancient times, this sensitivity led to many dragon subspecies or ‘special individuals’—like crystal dragons, wind dragons, thunder dragons, and mountain dragons. These changes could be good or bad—some produced incredibly powerful dragons, others caused severe deformities and short lifespans.

“But with the advent of intelligent incubation technology and factory-style management, these cases gradually disappeared. Newborn dragons were carefully protected and selected to be ‘standard healthy individuals’ under strict conditions.”

“So now that the Omega and hatchery factories are gone, these ancient ‘subspecies variations’ are happening again, right?” Gawain raised an eyebrow, feeling like he’d just learned another useless trivia fact. “That means Talrond’s managers will have to be more careful. Traditional incubation isn’t as reliable as the factories were, and with the complex environment now, hatchlings and unhatched eggs might be affected…”

Enya responded with a casual “Hmm,” but Gawain thought he detected a hint of distraction in her voice. The former dragon goddess seemed to be pondering something worrisome, weighing her thoughts carefully.

His intuition was soon confirmed.

“I… might be overthinking, but these magical marks on the hatchlings worry me,” Enya’s voice from the golden egg hesitated slightly. “Not their health—they look fine—but the cause behind these changes…”

“The reason behind it?” High Overlord spoke instinctively. “Isn’t it simply because, after that great war, Talrond’s environment was saturated with all kinds of chaotic magic…?”

“On the contrary,” Anya interrupted before he could finish, “only pure magic—magic close to its very source—can trigger this kind of mutation in young dragons. The chaotic magical energies left in the aftermath of the war cannot produce such an affinity-based ‘magical imprint.’”

High Overlord caught the unusual tone in Anya’s voice, and his expression grew serious. “Only pure, near-origin magic can cause this mutation? You mean…?”

“In my memory, such things only happened in a very, very ancient age,” Anya’s voice deepened. “Nearly two million years ago, long before the Titans ever set foot on this world, back when dragons were just one of many ordinary species here.” A hatchling clung to her eggshell, using all four limbs and wings, but she gently brushed it off with an invisible wave of magic. “Back then, dragons still relied on primitive methods to preserve and hatch their eggs. For a time, many hatchlings like these two appeared concentrated in the northern regions…”

High Overlord frowned and exchanged a glance with Melita before turning back to Anya. “What happened then?”

“Nothing at first—but shortly afterward, we discovered a massive surge rippling through the ‘Deep Blue Conduits’ that run through this planet. Pure magic surged and scattered across multiple realms, and this upheaval profoundly affected the global climate. Worldwide magical energy levels rose, and extreme weather changes persisted for a full decade.”

The hatchery fell silent for a moment. High Overlord’s face grew unusually grave. After several seconds of contemplation, he whispered, “The Deep Blue Conduits…”

This was a concept only recently introduced to mortal scholars, and one High Overlord had heard from Veronica/Ophelia not long ago. It referred to a vast magical network threading through the planet beneath his feet, spanning multiple realms—a kind of magical “artery” sustaining the flow of arcane energy across the entire world.

In High Overlord’s understanding, it was akin to planetary systems like ocean currents, monsoons, or geomagnetic fields—a unique “natural megastructure” of this magical world. Perhaps similar phenomena existed on other worlds as well.

In the distant days of Gondor, the “Deep Blue Well” that fueled the height of human civilization was actually a massive vent of this system exposed to the material plane. Humans drew planetary-scale energy directly from it—just a fraction was enough to propel their entire civilization to its peak.

Realizing just how vast and astonishing the Deep Blue Conduits were, High Overlord’s tension spiked instantly at Anya’s revelation.

(End of chapter)