Chapter 52: Dragon Dad 22

A faint snoring sound suddenly stopped as Principal Ude stirred and woke up from the single-seater sofa.

The nearby floor lamp, infused with magic, sensed his open eyes and gradually brightened.

“Hmm? What’s going on?”

The elderly man murmured, a light of clarity emerging in his previously dazed and deep-set eyes. He lowered the hand that had been propping up his head, sat upright, and surveyed his office.

The little azure dragon that had been massaging his shoulders before he dozed off was no longer by his side.

Had he really been so exhausted that he fell asleep during the massage?

Thinking back, the only thing he could recall before drifting off was the lively, vital magic emanating from the young dragon, enveloping him in a way that eased his long-tense emotions.

It had been a truly restful sleep, leaving him feeling reenergized upon waking.

Apart from a slight soreness in his neck from his sleeping posture, everything was fine.

Pressing his wrinkled hand against the armrest of the sofa, Principal Ude stood up and walked over to his desk, sifting through the pile of letters that had accumulated during his time away.

These were messages from old friends and students, all delivered by couriers while he was traveling. They had stacked up in his absence.

He had only returned yesterday and hadn’t had the chance to read them yet.

Opening the envelopes, he read through each letter, selecting the most urgent ones to respond to.

A nearby pen automatically floated into his hand and swiftly inscribed lines of ink onto the unfolded parchment.

Once finished, he set the replies aside, intending to have the couriers dispatch them later.

Before long, a black cat statue on his desk suddenly let out a meow, stretching lazily as if coming to life.

It was a spirit cat—an elite messenger capable of delivering words across vast distances between mages, typically reserved for dire emergencies.

The spirit cat opened its mouth, and a hoarse voice belonging to an old companion emerged.

“Ude, a massive rift has appeared in Tilbisse—the largest one to date! The demonic energy is spreading uncontrollably!”

The pen in Principal Ude’s hand suddenly slipped from his grasp, staining the half-written letter with dark ink spots.

A bolt of lightning slashed through the dark clouds, its dazzling light piercing the sky as if tearing it apart.

With his magic staff in hand, Principal Ude moved swiftly across the school grounds, heading toward the Dragon Tower.

Even over such a short distance, he used magic—one moment, his figure was in the corridor; the next, he appeared in the courtyard.

Inside the school buildings, students in the middle of their lessons gasped at the sudden lightning and thunder, gathering by the windows to watch.

They cheered for the incoming storm, knowing that once the rain fell, the stifling heat would finally subside.

“Teacher!”

Upon entering the tower, Principal Ude saw Lacia sitting beside a nest of gemstones, watching over a sleeping child.

The child’s face was flushed in slumber, tiny fists clutching a gem.

Looking up at the hurriedly approaching principal, Lacia remained calm, even as another lightning strike illuminated the wide-open windows behind him.

Principal Ude abruptly halted in his tracks.

“Teacher… A rift has appeared in Tilbisse as well. Over a million people live there! Please… I beg you…”

Unlike Ude’s distress and sorrow, Lacia’s tone remained composed.

“I understand. Have someone watch over Qian. I may be gone for some time.”

As he spoke, he rose and stepped toward the window.

His wings unfurled, and in a blink, he had transformed into a silver dragon, soaring into the sky and vanishing amidst the ominous lightning and thunderclouds.

Tilbisse was a densely populated region situated on the Vaya Plains, built along the Tia River. Dozens of cities formed a vast network there.

To the east lay the bustling imperial capital; to the west, the resource-rich Danna Mountains. Trade routes stretched north and south, connecting Buzzi Port to the adventurer-filled northern lands of Senjin.

Lacia had flown over this region countless times over the centuries, witnessing firsthand how it had transformed from a barren land into a thriving hub, from a mere village into an expansive city.

From high above, Tilbisse resembled a vast spiderweb radiating in all directions, with the lights along the Tia River never dimming, even at night.

But now, the once-vibrant and peaceful Tilbisse had been split open—like a titan’s blade had cleaved it in two.

A massive chasm stretched across the land, its gaping maw severing the Tia River and swallowing countless buildings. More structures teetered on the edges, ready to collapse at any moment.

From this dark abyss, waves of terrifying demonic energy surged forth—far more visceral and menacing than those from smaller rifts.

Even from high above, the cries of the people echoed through the sky.

Lacia could already see many mages hovering at low altitudes, pulling survivors from the wreckage of fallen buildings. More were fleeing from the depths of the chasm.

Most people ran away, but a few advanced toward the abyss.

Ripples of magic shimmered across the air like waves on water, glowing in Lacia’s violet eyes.

Under the guidance of master mages, numerous young spellcasters and knights were constructing fortifications, hoping to temporarily contain the abyssal corruption and buy time for those yet to evacuate.

These were tasks for humans.

As a dragon, Lacia dove straight toward the rift.

The chasm was so vast that even the enormous dragon flying overhead appeared minuscule in comparison.

Frost spread across the ground near the rift, turning the surroundings white as magical snowflakes descended from the sky. Upon absorbing the demonic energy, they darkened and were swept back into the abyss.

In the ruins nearby, a young mage, her face covered in dust and tears, struggled to hold up a collapsed house with magic, helping others escape.

She looked up and saw the great dragon flying over the abyssal rift, her parched throat trembling with emotion.

Lacia, her teacher.

She was a graduate of the Central Magic Academy.

Back in school, every time she encountered Lacia, she had feared him like a mouse fearing a cat.

But today, seeing that towering figure filled her with an overwhelming sense of reassurance and gratitude.

A glow of violet magic radiated from the dragon’s maw.

From a distance, the beautiful, pristine dragon wove through the thick black miasma, undeterred.

Gradually, a fierce snowstorm dissipated the darkness, filling the sky with frost-white blossoms.

That moment was forever etched into her heart—never forgotten, even in her old age.

When Qian woke up, she found Fizke sitting beside her.

The usually good-tempered and cheerful potions teacher was not smiling this time. He gazed out the window, his face filled with faint worry.

Qian lifted her head and looked around but did not see her dragon father.

“Hmm?”

Hearing her voice, Fizke turned back, finally putting on a smile. He patted her head and told her,

“Teacher Lacia had something to take care of and went out. I’ll be looking after you for the next few days.”

Qian obediently placed her hand in his.

Since Fizke often made fun and beautiful potions for her, she liked him a lot.

As for her father…

“Dad”—this kind of creature, no matter which one, would never stay home with her every day. Qian had long since gotten used to it.

Fizke’s magic tower was filled with herbs and magical plants, and the interior was no exception. Rootless magical plants were suspended in midair, growing and blooming nonetheless.

The walls were lined with all sorts of botanical and zoological specimens, hanging in an array of variety.

He also liked collecting oddly shaped branches and stones, which he displayed in cabinets.

Fizke placed Qian on the large workbench he usually used for brewing potions and elixirs.

The chair automatically adjusted to her height, creaking as it rose to bring her to the table’s surface.

“Qian, let’s do some drawing.”

Fizke laid out paper and pencils in front of her, then took out some vibrantly colored plant and animal specimens from his collection and arranged them.

He knew that young dragons had a natural fondness for bright, colorful things.

Sure enough, Qian had no objections. She took the pencil and began doodling on the paper.

Most of the time, she was a very well-behaved child.

Give her paper and a pencil, and she could sit quietly for a long time.

Seeing her engrossed in drawing, Fizke went off to handle some tasks. When he returned, he glanced at the paper in front of Qian and was surprised to find that she had not drawn any of the specimens he had set out.

“This is… Teacher Lacia?”

He recognized the figure in the drawing by the purple, bulb-like eyes.

“This little one here must be you, Qian. Then who is this other one? Could it be me?”

Fizke touched his own smiling face but felt it did not quite resemble the drawing. The black-haired, black-eyed figure in the picture had a downturned mouth and looked rather displeased.

Qian continued coloring while casually answering,

“It’s Grumpy-Face Dad.”

She drew many, many people. Some she could not remember clearly, so she replaced them with stick figures, gradually filling the entire paper.

Fizke sat beside her, guessing the identities. He could only accurately recognize those with distinct features—

For example, the headmaster with a white beard, the wood elf Teacher Lexure, a few students, and himself.

His own depiction had a big smiling face, holding a large bottle of colorful potion—it was surprisingly accurate.

Fizke had no idea how Qian remembered so many people. One sheet was not enough; she had to take another to finish.

The moment she was done, Qian instinctively lifted the drawing and called out, “Dad!”

Every time she finished a drawing, she would show it to her father immediately, waiting for his praise.

Since her father was not here today, she turned to Fizke, placed the drawing in his hands, and said,

“You can praise me now.”

Fizke: “…”

During the day, Qian played outside, but at night, no matter what, she refused to sleep in Fizke’s magic tower. Even the gently swaying enchanted bed could not soothe her, so Fizke had no choice but to accompany her back to the dragon’s high tower.

As soon as they entered, Qian started searching everywhere.

Fizke was curious. “Qian, what are you looking for?”

The child placed her hands on her hips and sighed in an old-fashioned manner. “He really isn’t here, and he’s not hiding either.”

Fizke finally realized she was looking for Teacher Lacia, and his heart softened.

“Teacher Lacia can’t come back just yet. Let’s wash up and go to bed, okay? I can tell you a story.”

Hearing the promise of a story, Qian ran off to rinse herself.

Dragons were naturally clean and could use magic to keep themselves pristine. Especially Qian—she would still smell nice even if she never bathed.

But as a young dragon who valued personal hygiene, she still took a quick wash before returning to her nest.

In her dragon form, she was much larger than her childlike human form. Once curled up in her nest, it was hard to distinguish where her body ended and her tail began.

Moreover, her gleaming scales reflected the light, shimmering amidst the pearl-and-gem-filled nest. Staring too long could make one’s eyes hurt.

“Hmm, I’ll tell you a story about Teacher Lacia.”

“A long time ago, Teacher Lacia was still a young dragon. There was an imperial princess who fell in love with him. She was willing to offer her most beautiful crown, her finest jewels, and even her entire treasury in hopes of winning his favor. Her name was Princess Adeline, and the famous opera The Ballad of Adeline was based on her story.”

“Every day, Princess Adeline adorned herself with countless gemstones, just to make sure the dragon’s gaze would linger on her. But her pursuit did not move the dragon. Wanting to acquire her gems, he told her, ‘You only like my appearance. If I find you a man more beautiful than me, you must give me your gold and jewels.’”

“The princess agreed. Not long after, the dragon brought a human man before her—none other than the renowned beauty of history, Ivan. He was tall and well-built, with honey-colored skin, fiery red hair, and golden eyes, with a waist as lithe as a leopard’s. The princess was enchanted by him and, with tears in her eyes, handed over her gold and jewels to the dragon.”

“…”

Qian listened to several of her father’s old stories. The beginnings varied, but the endings were always the same—he ended up acquiring a great deal of wealth.

The next day, Fizke took Qian to play at Lexure’s place again, and at night, he continued telling her stories.

As Lacia’s student, Fizke had collected a vast number of legends and tales about his teacher over the years. He could easily talk for a month without repeating a story.

But by the third day, the usually obedient child was no longer so easy to entertain.

No matter what they played, she was distracted. After a while, she would glance at the sky or come over to ask, “Is Dad not back yet?”

At night, she no longer listened to stories. Instead, she lay by the window, staring outside like a little puppy.

Fizke squatted beside her and stroked her small head. “Don’t be sad, little one. Teacher will be back very soon.”

Finally, the sound of wings beating outside caught their attention. Both of them looked up in delight.

Lacia stepped onto the window ledge, steadying himself against the colorful crystal panes as he prepared to climb inside.

He looked exhausted. His hair was slightly disheveled, and even his usually immaculate white robe was stained with dirt.

Fizke was about to say something when he noticed his teacher’s sharp gaze fixed on his hand.

He immediately withdrew the hand that had been stroking the young dragon’s head, shuffled aside, and gave an innocent smile in return.

But Qian had already excitedly leapt onto the windowsill, hugging Lacia’s leg.

Her impact was like a cannonball—Lacia, caught off guard, was pulled backward as she clung to him.

Watching father and daughter tumble out the window, Fizke: “???”