Chapter 910: The Gaze of the Divine

Gawain watched as the agent lady staggered unsteadily out of the room, her usual graceful, composed, and dependable demeanor completely gone.

He felt deeply guilty—he believed he should have stopped her, arranged proper medical care and rest, and offered adequate compensation. Even if it was an unintentional mistake, he had undeniably caused her harm, and that was simply unacceptable.

But after some calm reflection, he decided to let it go—mainly because he feared the dragon might just drop dead right there…

“Why does she have to be so stubborn…” Gawain muttered, watching Melita’s retreating figure. “If she didn’t want to answer, she could’ve just refused…”

A moment later, Hetty arrived in the study. The Imperial Steward entered and immediately said, “Ancestor, I heard reports that the agent from the Mithril Vault was in a… ah—what happened here?!”

She noticed the splattered blood on the floor and gasped.

“Send someone to clean this up,” Gawain sighed, glancing at the desk corroded by Melita’s blood—it had been less than two weeks old. “Also, I’ll need a new desk… and a new carpet.”

“Ah? Oh, right,” Hetty blinked, hurriedly agreeing while carefully stepping around the bloodstains to stand before him. “Ancestor, you and the Mithril Vault agent… there was no conflict, right?”

“No, but I may have accidentally caused some collateral damage… I’ll have to make it up to her when I get the chance,” Gawain shook his head, then his gaze fell on the bloodstains, his expression shifting. “By the way, Hetty, I heard dragon blood is a highly valuable magical material, right? With significant research potential?”

“That’s true,” Hetty nodded, puzzled but attentive. “Some ancient records from the old Gondor era mention dragon blood possessing various wondrous magical properties, and its pure mana can be used to analyze complex crystal structures…”

“Then make sure to collect any blood that hasn’t dried when cleaning up,” Gawain said seriously. “We can’t waste it.”

He felt a surge of bittersweet emotion: Melita was his dragon friend, and in this way, their friendship had some tangible value. He resolved to make sure official records would honor her with the title “Friendship Dragon”—after all, he wasn’t about to let the My Little Pony joke go unacknowledged…

Hetty could never guess the mischievous schemes brewing in the solemn old ancestor’s mind, so her expression simply read: “?”

…

Outside Cecil City, in a deserted mountain valley, a figure suddenly burst from the trees, surrounded by turbulent magic and howling winds, stumbling onto a flat patch of sandy ground.

Melita Pernia stopped there, then let out a low roar—countless ordinary birds and beasts scattered wildly from every corner of the valley, even some powerful magical creatures fled in terror. All life in the valley fled far from the dragon’s presence, while Melita herself was suddenly enveloped in a shimmering barrier of light.

Within the shifting glow, a blue dragon appeared in the center of the sand. She lay prone, her wings drooping weakly, her scales dulled, and fine beads of blood oozed from the gaps between her scales, quietly pooling on the sand beneath her.

After injecting herself with several potent enhancers and emergency repair serums, she finally exhaled in relief and activated a communication link with Tal’Rond.

A pale golden interface opened before her eyes, and a voice from the support team on the other end spoke: “Melita? Why are you initiating a private comm on this channel all of a sudden?”

“Can’t fly for now… I’m in bad shape,” Melita said weakly. “Noretta, didn’t you get my implant’s alarm signal?”

“Our monitoring system was calibrating the clocks and wasn’t pointed at Loren just now. Let me check…” Noretta’s voice came through, then she gasped, “Oh my god! What happened?! Your heart—”

“I had a rather intense conversation with Gawain Cecil,” Melita said with a bitter laugh. “His words broke my heart—actually, three of them.”

“Now’s not the time for jokes!” Noretta sounded frantic. “All your auxiliary hearts have shut down. Only your original heart is beating, and it can’t power all your functions. How are you? Can you move? You need to return to Tal’Rond immediately for emergency repairs!”

“I said I can’t fly right now… I might need a ‘recovery team’ to come get me,” Melita said slowly. “Also, bring plenty of ‘Tidal Wave’ enhancers—I just used up my entire quota.”

“Understood. The recovery team is online and will launch in ten minutes—with the ‘Tidal Wave’ enhancers you requested. Damn, you might be the only dragon in two millennia to get yourself into a situation on a routine mission that requires a recovery team… What exactly did you talk about with that human emperor?” Noretta asked, curiosity breaking through her worry, then quickly added, “Ah, if it’s not convenient to say, don’t worry about it…”

Clearly, she realized this wasn’t a “safe signal zone” high in the atmosphere, and given the likelihood that the Dragon God’s attention had been drawn, she gave Melita a warning.

“This really isn’t the place to talk about it…” Melita thought of the terrible news from her conversation with Gawain, her strange behavior, and the mysterious gaps in her memory. Though still shaken, she shook her head lightly and spoke in a low, serious tone, “When I get back, I want… to see the God. I might need Speaker Andal’s help to arrange it.”

Before her friend could respond, a deep, majestic voice suddenly cut into the comm: “I am here—Melita, you wish to meet the divine?”

“Yes,” Melita said after a moment’s thought, “I have questions I want answered by the God. Please help me convey this to High Priest Helagor…”

Before she could finish, a commanding female voice, as if layered with countless others, echoed in her mind with overwhelming pressure and authority. A pale golden apparition appeared before her eyes, and a thunderous voice boomed in her head: “I have granted permission.”

In an instant, the entire channel fell silent. Everyone—Speaker Andal included—quieted, and a tense, solemn atmosphere filled the comm. Even the silence seemed heavy with reverence.

Melita felt her last remaining biological heart twitch. She snapped alert and swallowed hard. “God… my Lord…”

“Relax,” the voice continued. “Once you return to Tal’Rond, you may come see me anytime.”

The voice and its weighty presence vanished as abruptly as they had come, as if deliberately signaling to everyone on the channel: I have left. Carry on.

Yet no one dared truly relax. Melita heard her friend’s nervous voice break the silence: “That was… divine intervention…”

“Looks like you’ve had a special experience,” Speaker Andal’s voice followed. “Melita, rest well where you are and stay safe. The recovery team has launched and will reach you soon. We’ll talk more when you’re back.”

With that, the aged dragon speaker left the channel.

For a while, only Melita and her support friend remained on the line.

The enhancers had taken full effect, temporarily easing the pain and abnormal signals throughout her body. Her mind swirled with restless thoughts, but she pushed them aside, hid the comm interface, and adjusted her position to lie comfortably on the ground, eyes fixed on the dark mountains now cloaked in night.

Above the dark peaks, the night sky stretched wide, dotted with twinkling stars that adorned the heavens.

After a long pause, her friend’s voice came softly: “Melita, are you okay?”

“You’re still on the line?” Melita moved her neck slightly. “I thought you’d logged off already.”

“I’m a bit worried about you,” Noretta said. “I don’t have any other comms right now. The other deployed dragons heard about your accident and freed up the channel… By the way, Pector is in the Timberwood region with nothing to do. Want me to send him to help watch over you?”

“No need… I don’t want to be mocked,” Melita replied immediately. “The enhancers are working. I’ll just rest quietly here for a while.”

“Alright…”

A few minutes of silence passed, then Melita broke it again: “Hey, you’re still there, right?”

“Here.”

“I suddenly want to ask you… do you know what it feels like to have only one heart beating inside you? One original heart, untouched by any modifications, the one you hatched with from the egg. What does it feel like when it beats?”

“Me? I don’t remember…” her friend sounded puzzled. “I had my original heart replaced when I was very young… Dragons like you who keep their original heart into adulthood must be rare.”

“True… I’m a young antique,” Melita chuckled, then winced and wiped the smile away. “Ouch… still hurts a bit.”

“So don’t get cocky—hey, you haven’t told me yet,” her friend’s voice came again. “What’s it like relying on just that one original heart?”

“…It’s weak. Every heartbeat makes me uneasy. All my life depends on this one fragile, flesh-and-blood organ. It makes me feel like I could die at any moment. I’m terrified it might stop, and there’s no backup pump to keep me alive…” Melita’s voice was low and somber. The distant stars reflected in her gem-like eyes, slowly drifting across the night sky. “But… there’s also a strange sense of reality. I can truly feel that I’m alive, and that I’m living in a real world.

“I often feel like I have too many implants inside me. Almost every vital organ has an implant assisting it, even every muscle and bone… It makes me feel like I’m no longer myself, but that there’s a copy of ‘Melita Pernia’ made of machines and auxiliary brains living in the same body. It’s like a parasitic monster of steel and polymers hiding deep in my flesh and bones… But now, that parasite’s heart has stopped, and my own heart is supporting this body… and that feeling is… pretty good.”

Her consciousness wavered, drifting toward sleep. Half-dreaming, she heard Noretta’s voice faintly: “You’ve taken too many enhancers and gotten sentimental… But you’re right about one thing—feeling like you could die at any moment is real…”

“Good night…” Melita murmured drowsily.

Under the influence of the enhancer’s side effects, she finally drifted off to sleep.

At the very moment she slipped into slumber, a faint golden veil of light materialized out of thin air, enveloping her defenseless body in a tight, protective shield. Above this shimmering barrier, countless pairs of eyes—hundreds, maybe thousands—seemed to hover in the void, cold and unblinking, silently watching over the blue dragon beneath the light’s safeguard.

…

Within Typhon’s borders, in a town near the eastern desert, the War God’s church stood solemnly against the night sky. Its black iron spires, sharp as blades, pierced upward like a sword under the stars.

A humble priest carrying a lantern walked quietly through the church, inspecting rooms and corridors one by one.

Behind each door, everything appeared normal. The long hallway echoed only with the soft sound of his footsteps as he neared the end of his rounds—the priests’ quarters lay just ahead.

In the hierarchy of the War God’s clergy, “War God Priests” held a rank above ordinary priests. They typically managed smaller regional chapels, and this place was no exception.

A faint light spilled from beneath the door at the corridor’s end, the door itself slightly ajar.

“Priest Kosto still up this late…” the patrolling priest murmured curiously, quickening his pace.

But halfway there, a strange sound reached his ears—a low, pained moan, almost like someone murmuring in a troubled dream.

Thanks to his heightened senses as a supernatural, the priest’s body shuddered instantly, a cold wave of dread washing over him.

Something was wrong.

Reacting swiftly, he hurried forward, reaching the door at the corridor’s end in a few strides. A sharp scent of blood hit his nostrils.

Ignoring all church protocol, the priest immediately cast three layers of protective wards on himself, readying an emergency alarm spell. Then, without hesitation, he pushed open the slightly ajar wooden door.

Inside, sprawled on the floor, was nothing but a shapeless mass of flesh—slowly fading from life…

(End of chapter)