Chapter 74: What the Hell Is Glowing?

To be honest, Gawain never expected this whole thing to start like this—or end like this. He never imagined he’d actually establish a connection with a ball, let alone that this ball would be such a pain in the ass…

If there hadn’t been people watching, and if he didn’t have to maintain his dignified, ancient patriarch image, he probably would have just unleashed a Champion’s Strike and split this unlucky orb in two on the spot. Sure, the Sword of the Pioneer wasn’t in his hand, but that didn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind…

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Gawain forced down the urge to curse and shifted his perspective on the ball—from a “frightened, helpless little creature in need of aid” to a “bratty troublemaker who deserves to be locked up in a lab for study.” Then, he patiently said, “What benefit would I get from lying to you? The research facility that held you was abandoned a thousand years ago. A thousand years! Do you understand that?”

The ball was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking, then replied firmly, “Don’t even think about tricking me out of my shell!”

“I’m telling you the truth. If you don’t believe me—”

“Don’t even think about tricking me out of my shell!”

Gawain’s forehead veins bulged. “Fine, you want to stay in your shell? That’s your business! But you better release my people first!”

In the mental connection, the ball sounded curious. “Your people? What people?”

Gawain was dumbfounded by the genuine curiosity. “You’ve got my three soldiers stuck to you—are you seriously going to deny that?!”

The ball was silent even longer this time, then exclaimed, “So those pieces of steel actually have people on them?!”

Gawain: “…”

“It must be that your perception inside the shell was affected!” The unlucky ball actually admitted its mistake outright. Then, with a series of clicks and clatters, the three soldiers were instantly freed, falling off the ball’s surface.

They looked tense and horrified. Once on the ground, their first move was to scramble away from the ball, then hurriedly strip off all their armor, weapons, and any metal objects, tossing them on the ground.

Gawain suddenly thought maybe this weird ball could actually communicate, so he asked, “Why did you absorb all their armor and weapons?”

The ball answered matter-of-factly, “I was just trying to find something to defend myself with, okay? Who knows what nasty tricks you crazy barbarians might have!”

“I already told you, that research facility was long gone. I have no idea how the people who captured you back then—”

“Don’t even think about tricking me out of my shell!”

Gawain: “…”

For the first time in his life, he was utterly defeated in a verbal exchange. What made it worse was that he lost to a ball.

If this really was a dragon egg, then he’d just been outwitted by a fertilized egg…

No matter what he said next, the so-called dragon egg refused to respond directly. Even when cornered, it only repeated, “Don’t even think about tricking me out of my shell.” Gawain began to suspect the ball might actually be a cursed broken record.

Whatever it was, communication was at a dead end.

Gawain’s face darkened as he withdrew his hand from the ball’s surface and ended his magical perception. He looked up to see Amber and Pittman watching him with curious expressions.

Amber had just witnessed the three soldiers freed shortly after Gawain made contact with the ball. Then Gawain’s face had gone pale and flushed repeatedly as if he’d drifted off into some distant trance. The half-elf had feared he was about to lose control of his magic and die again. For several minutes, she wrestled with herself, debating whether to run out shouting to break camp and split the loot, or to quietly strip Gawain of his valuables and make a run for it… before he suddenly “came back to life.”

And he looked pissed.

Amber, feeling guilty as a thief caught red-handed, broke out in a cold sweat and lowered her voice by several octaves. “Are you… okay? Your face changed so fast just now, I thought you were about to self-destruct…”

“I established communication with this ball,” Gawain said through gritted teeth, barely noticing Amber’s odd tone. “This thing… actually has intelligence!”

“Intelligence?!” The most surprised wasn’t Amber, but the druid Pittman. The old man practically lunged toward the ball but hesitated to touch it—after all, a legendary knight could handle it, but what if a third-level druid like him accidentally killed himself? “A dragon egg with intelligence?! So… dragons can think even before they hatch? This is… this is the most incredible thing! An absolute mystery no scholar or druid in this world has ever uncovered!”

“Not so fast. We can’t be sure this thing is a dragon egg yet,” Gawain quickly corrected. He still couldn’t believe such a ridiculous thing was happening to him. But his correction was useless: Pittman was already buzzing with excitement, planning to write a book about this discovery and sell it to the Holy Dragon Principality in the north.

If he actually tried to sell such a baseless “research finding” to those dragon-worshipping fanatics, Gawain might have to hire a new druid. Luckily, Pittman had no money to print books, nor to travel across Ansu and the northern mountains to the Holy Dragon Principality for promotion.

Since the stone ball refused any further contact, Gawain decided to leave it where it was. But to prevent this metal-controlling, magic-affecting “dragon egg” from causing more trouble, he changed the containment measures: he removed all metal objects within tens of meters inside and outside the tent; surrounded the ball with obsidian slabs to block magic; tightly bound it with thick ropes and secured it to the ground with sturdy wooden stakes; and told the ball he was going to buy some oranges…

No one understood that last step.

While arranging all this, Gawain also recounted the entire communication process to Hetty, who had been waiting outside.

Surprisingly, the usually mature, practical Hetty also suspected the ball was a dragon egg.

Was this way of thinking really so common in this world?

“This ‘dragon egg’ was probably stolen by the ancient Gondor Empire’s mages,” Hetty speculated after hearing Gawain’s story. “I’ve heard dragons did appear on the continent a thousand years ago. The Dragon Principality has records of this—though those fanatics who worship dragons tend to be superstitious, they are actually the most reliable chroniclers when it comes to when and where dragons appeared. The timeline matches the era when that ruin was built.

“And judging by the egg’s attitude toward humans, the Gondor mages clearly used underhanded methods to obtain it—and treated the egg poorly afterward.”

“Of course. They just tossed it on a lab table. How friendly could they be?” Gawain sneered. “I suspect it’s been dormant ever since, probably suppressed by some magic the Gondor mages used, because the egg has no memory of the thousand years that passed. And by taking it out of the ruins… we probably broke the seal the mages left a millennium ago.”

“What do you plan to do with it?” Hetty asked cautiously. “If it really is a dragon egg… we can’t just mess with it. Legends say dragons hold grudges and care deeply for their eggs. The Gondor mages a thousand years ago might not have feared dragon retaliation, but we’re different. And to dragons, there’s probably no difference between us and the humans from a thousand years ago.”

Almost no one has ever seen a real dragon, but descriptions of dragons abound—about their temperaments, classifications, preferences, even recipes. The continent has countless serious books on the subject, some from local dragon experts, others from the northern Holy Dragon Principality, self-proclaimed descendants of dragon blood. They use many grandiose and terrifying terms to describe their “Dragon Ancestor,” and Hetty chooses to believe the most dangerous of these accounts.

Gawain stroked his chin. “Makes sense… Let’s just leave it there for a few days, undisturbed. Let it believe no one’s coming to experiment on it anymore, then I’ll try to build trust.”

Having said that, he couldn’t suppress a long yawn. The exhaustion from being woken in the middle of the night and the mental strain hit him all at once. “Alright… that’s enough for tonight. Everyone’s tired after all this fuss. Except for those on night watch, the rest can go rest.”

The gathered group dispersed. Amber yawned and vanished with a shadow step before anyone could see. Gawain glanced back at the “dragon egg tent,” guarded warily by soldiers, shook his head, and headed to his own tent.

Inside, he sat on his bed but didn’t immediately sleep. Instead, he habitually focused his mind and summoned the “magical energy imaging” map he’d viewed from above.

After confirming the energy distribution hadn’t changed much—especially near the “dragon egg”—and that no high-energy reactions or satellite alerts had come in, he finally relaxed and prepared to lie down.

But just as he was about to rest, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, flickering glow in the dark tent.

Rubbing his eyes to make sure it wasn’t a trick, he realized the light was coming from the large basket beside his desk.

Those were the discarded byproducts from Rebecca’s “cement burning” process—some hardened, inert substances with no apparent use.

Curious, Gawain leaned closer and saw tiny points of light twinkling within the hardened lumps.

The glow was faint, but it resembled a cluster of stars.

(End of chapter)