Chapter 1217: A Royal Dinner and the Young Dragons

Gawain paid no mind to Amber’s usual bluster—he knew that this half-elf was only used to being unreliable in words. It had been quite some time since she’d leapt through a window into a room, and recently she hadn’t triggered any of the “anti-Amber mechanisms” set up on nearby street lamps or rooftops. Ultimately, she had grown up somewhat compared to before.

Well, except for her height and figure.

Gawain stepped forward and opened the study window. Two young dragons, who had been pacing anxiously outside, immediately hopped inside through the opening. They first dashed around the floor in a quick circle, then suddenly seemed to remember something. They ran over to Gawain, neatly spread their wings, lowered their heads—a gesture that was probably a bow in their dragon form—and let out a “Gao—” sound. Then, together, they ran over to Amber and repeated the same polite greeting.

Both Amber and Gawain exchanged surprised yet amused looks at the two young dragons’ courteous behavior. Amber was the first to speak: “Wow… I didn’t expect them to be so well-mannered.”

Gawain was surprised for a different reason. “Young dragons develop their minds this quickly? How long has it been since they hatched? Not only did they fly all the way here from the embassy district, but they even know how to greet politely like this… I always thought that dragons, with their incredibly long lifespans and apex predator status, would have a very prolonged childhood, like elves.”

“I thought so too,” Amber crouched down and ruffled the fine scales on the dragons’ heads absentmindedly. “But it seems that’s just our stereotype. Or maybe the dragons adjusted their genetics at some point to speed up their growth. After all, their technology was so advanced back then, making a dragon in a factory was probably like a game to them…”

It looked like Amber’s mind was off on another tangent, but this time Gawain didn’t follow her wild speculations. Instead, he checked the two young dragons and found no notes from Melita or Noretta, so he knew these little ones had snuck out on their own. Glancing outside, he saw the sun setting and the evening approaching. Turning back to Amber, he said, “Melita’s probably starting to worry. Go send a message to the Tal’Rond Embassy. Tell them the young dragons are here, and let’s keep the two of them here for dinner tonight. Enya hasn’t seen them for a couple of days and has been mentioning them several times.”

“Alright, I’ll let them know.” Amber stood up, and before she finished speaking, her figure began to fade into the air.

The two young dragons watched Amber vanish into thin air and immediately chirped in surprise. They circled around on the floor, as if searching for a place to hide, but after a few seconds, they lost interest and returned to Gawain’s side, weaving around his legs and nudging his knees with their heads, making happy, unintelligible gurgling sounds.

Spending time with dragon hatchlings—even for Gawain, this was a novel experience. Though it wasn’t the first time he’d been with these two little troublemakers, he couldn’t help but marvel at their playful and mischievous nature.

Their innate physical abilities and mental development clearly set dragon hatchlings apart from other races. This was evident in their fondness for Cecil Palace and their affectionate behavior toward Gawain. The two seemed well aware of where they were born and remembered the presence of everyone around them at the time. Once they could crawl proficiently, they had even run all the way from the embassy district to the palace lawn, causing quite a commotion—a memory that remained vivid for Gawain. It was safe to predict that they would be coming here to cause mischief often in the future.

But Gawain didn’t mind at all. He liked these dragon sisters very much.

Not long after, the imperial family’s dinner was ready in the dining hall. Thanks to the chefs and attendants bustling about, the long table was laden with a sumptuous yet modest spread. Extra chairs had been brought out, just in case. Gawain sat at the head of the table as the family patriarch, with Hetty, Rebecca, and others arranged in order. As for Amber… as usual, she confidently took the seat to Gawain’s left, already raising a chicken leg and a mug of beer.

If a rigid traditionalist happened to witness this royal family dinner, they would probably write thousands of words criticizing the scene for its many breaches of “noble etiquette” and “royal dignity.” Yet Gawain himself was perfectly content with this lively, informal “family gathering.” He had always believed that mealtime was the moment to relax, especially when with family and friends. Such precious time should never be sacrificed to exhausting formalities and “protocols.” This had been his philosophy since he first established a frontier camp here, and it hadn’t changed even after he became ruler of this vast empire.

Even Hetty, who once valued tradition and “proper conduct” highly, had long since grown accustomed to this. She was even used to Amber and Rebecca fighting over the last chicken leg at the table.

Considering Hetty’s personality, that was quite an achievement…

Gawain’s gaze drifted to the far end of the table, where a figure rarely seen in the dining hall had now appeared: a massive golden egg, its shell inscribed with softly glowing runes that shimmered and flowed. It stood imposingly opposite Gawain, with a teacup and kettle floating beside it, and the latest newspaper hovering in front.

The two young dragons had already jumped down from their chairs and were now gleefully bounding around the golden egg, occasionally climbing to its top and curling their tails like the dragons in bard tales perched atop ancient castles. They stretched their necks and let out harmless “Gao” calls.

If an ordinary caretaker were responsible for them, they’d likely be overwhelmed by the hatchlings’ boundless energy and strength. But for a former deity like Enya, this level of mischief was nothing. She simply let the young dragons crawl all over her, completely unfazed as she sipped tea and read the paper.

Of course, given the dragon goddess’s current form… it was hard to tell if she was truly indifferent or not. She just stood there, quietly.

The aroma of food filled the dining hall. Amber happily gnawed on a half-eaten chicken leg but soon glanced toward the dragons and Enya. Then she noticed Tyr lying on a nearby chair, face up, already asleep before the meal had even started—looking as lifeless as a corpse. Amber couldn’t help but mutter quietly to Gawain, “Hey, don’t you think the number of normal humans around you is getting fewer and fewer? Nowadays, it’s hard to find even one person who looks human at the dinner table…”

Her voice was low, but the perceptive golden egg couldn’t miss it. Enya’s gentle, amused voice came from the far end of the table: “I don’t usually come to the dining hall—today I just showed up because the two little ones came to visit.”

As she spoke, she summoned the floating teacup beside her with invisible magic and expertly poured the steaming hot tea over her eggshell. The rising steam carried the scent of tea, which immediately caught the attention of the young dragons. One jumped up, trying to snatch the floating cup, while the other opened its mouth and breathed a small flame, precisely hitting the spot on Enya’s shell where the tea had spilled—probably trying to help dry it.

Watching this strange yet lively scene, Gawain couldn’t help but cover his face and mutter, “Having to deal with SC even at dinner… I never would have dreamed of this…”

Before he finished, Tyr, who was nearly sliding off her chair, suddenly jolted awake. The sea witch’s eyes darted around as she said, “Dreaming? I wasn’t sleeping, just dozing off. Call me when dinner’s ready…”

Before she could finish, she closed her eyes again and slumped back down—her expression peaceful, as if dead to the world.

“I don’t even understand why she’s here,” Amber muttered, glancing at Tyr’s collapsed form. “She’s not eating anything. She’s just changing her sleeping spot…”

“I wanted to ask her about the situation in Antavien,” Gawain sighed softly, “It feels like it’s been ages since we last heard from there. I wonder how the sea witches’ restoration project is progressing. Well, never mind. I’ll wait until she wakes up.”

“Don’t keep your nerves so tightly wound. At least now, you should think about things unrelated to the ‘big picture,’” Enya’s calm voice came from across the table, her eggshell balanced with two squabbling young dragons on top. Her tone was soothing. “Although I don’t quite understand the sea witches’ way of life, when it comes to relaxing and ‘making themselves happy,’ they’re far better than you.”

“I can’t help it. My mind rarely quiets down. If I stop thinking, I get restless,” Gawain smiled wryly, shaking his head. Then his gaze suddenly fell on the two young dragons nudging each other. He noticed a blue glow flickering between the scales on their necks, and where the light extended, there was a faint, flowing texture. “Enya, have the ‘Deep Blue Marks’ on the little ones changed again?”

“You noticed too?” Enya’s voice was as calm as ever, reassuring. “Indeed, it’s now visible to the naked eye. Hard not to notice… Their marks have developed further recently. I had thought the changes were just minor mutations caused by the active energies in the Deep Blue Nexus, which would stabilize as they grew. But now it seems the Nexus’s influence runs deeper than I imagined.”

Gawain instinctively paused, his expression growing serious. “Is everything really alright?”

“There’s still no sign of any adverse effects. They’re extremely healthy—healthier than most hatchlings—and their magical perception abilities show even greater potential for development. However… I have noticed that the deep blue marks they bear are constantly sending out signals and interacting with the outside world. This makes me suspect they haven’t fully detached from the influence of the Deep Blue Nexus, and perhaps even…”

At this moment, Heddy, who had remained silent until now, couldn’t help but break the quiet—she, like Highlord Gawain, was deeply concerned about the two little ones hatched in the Cecile Palace. “Perhaps even?”

“I suspect they might still be connected to the Deep Blue Nexus,” Enya’s calm voice finally betrayed a hint of worry, though she quickly masked it again. “And I’m afraid we may not be able to sever that connection.”

Gawain’s gaze fixed on the golden dragon egg’s shell. “Do Melita and Noretta know about this?”

“I’ve mentioned it to them. As the hatchlings’ mothers, they have both the right and the responsibility to be aware of the changes happening to the two little ones,” Enya said slowly. Meanwhile, the two still-naïve hatchlings had already climbed out of their shells. They glanced around, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, their attention quickly drawn to the tail of Miss Siren, who was curled beneath the table.

Fortunately, before the two fearless hatchlings could unleash a blast of dragonfire and vaporize the poor siren’s tail, Enya used invisible magic to pull them out from under the table.

“They’ve already reported the changes in the hatchlings to Talrond,” Enya continued, “and earlier, they also reported the possibility that many dragon eggs might be affected by the Deep Blue Nexus. But given the current situation in Talrond… I doubt Heragor will be able to respond quickly.” She paused, then added, “For now, all we can do is observe the marks on the hatchlings more carefully, try to trace the pathways connecting them to the Nexus, and hope these connections won’t harm their health.”

Gawain and Heddy exchanged a glance, speaking in unison: “…Let’s hope so.”

…

Standing atop a hill on the outskirts, overlooking the imperial capital, the dazzling artificial lights stretched out like a river of stars, often leaving first-time visitors to this “City of Arcane Engineering” utterly speechless.

The magical crystal lamps banished the darkness of night. Along the roads, dense clusters of lights illuminated the bustling main streets and the shops lining them, which never fell silent even after dusk. The residential districts were equally bright, their glow far surpassing the old oil lamps and candles of days past. From thousands of windows, light spilled out like countless stars scattered across the earth—so brilliant and radiant that it outshone even the starry sky above. As Asalina stood on a large stone, gazing over the city, she couldn’t help but squint slightly against the brilliance.

Under the night sky, the red-haired Dragonmark sorceress whispered in awe, “Though I’ve been here for several days now… I still have to say, the city’s nights are far more breathtaking than its days.”

“Thousands of lights… When His Majesty first described this scene to us, none of us could have imagined what it would look like,” Byron said in a low voice, standing beside Asalina. “But then again—I’ve heard Amber describe the old Talrond as even more magnificent than Cecile City. Back then, the lights could turn the land into daylight; even every brick on the road would glow…”

“No matter how magnificent, the old Talrond is gone,” Asalina smiled softly, shaking her head. “And even if it still existed, it would be the homeland of the pureblood dragons, not of us Dragonkin.” She added, perhaps teasingly enough to raise the blood pressure of the three dragon leaders, “And to say something that might upset them—the Talrond that remains now, with its sparse lights flickering in the night after the war, actually seems ‘brighter’ to me than it ever did in its days of glory.”

(End of chapter)