Chapter 1055 — Flare

"There is always something to offer. Even if Talund is destroyed, we still possess many things that would interest other races. Apart from those technologies that represent a dangerous generational gap, we have some knowledge we can disclose; certain storehouses may yet hold treasures, and something of value can always be dug from the ruins. And if it comes to the worst... we still have our own flesh and bone."

Helagor's pace was unhurried, but his gaze was unwavering, and his expression revealed his stance—a line he had drawn for dragon civilization.

Talund may have fallen, but the dragons still stood. Dragonkind had once been the mightiest civilization on this planet, and for over a million years the only civilization to have successfully broken free of the gods' shackles. Even reduced to such straits as this, he would not allow his people to sink into degradation—the dragons would not become thieves, nor bandits, still less eke out a beast's existence.

The dragons would return to the world's stage with honor.

"Since you have already decided, then of course I support it," Bayang'er nodded. "Then, if we wish to make contact with humanity and the other sentient races, we must have a plan. First, we need to find people who understand the various races of the Loren Continent; second, we must seek out targets for initial contact; and last... we need to gather intelligence, to understand how things stand on the Loren Continent now."

"The situation on the Loren Continent," Anqian mused. "Yes, we should investigate that first. The outside world changes far faster than the rhythm we are used to, and right now is precisely their moment of fastest change."

As he spoke, he nodded slightly. "As for the people who understand the races of the Loren Continent, and the targets for initial contact—I already have a rough idea."

"Good," Bayang'er exhaled. "I will act as well—once the camp is a little more stable, I will return to the Holy Dragon Duchy. The Duchy has already established contact with the human kingdoms of the Loren Continent, and it can serve as a window for Talund to learn about that continent.

"Besides, though the Duchy's crop yields leave little surplus, I should still be able to raise some grain and medicine. But I may need some extra time there to make preparations—after all, the dragonborn... are not prepared to face Talund."

At this, the Archduke of Dragonblood could not suppress a note of regret: "It is a pity that it is winter on the Loren Continent now, and the northern regions will all have limited grain reserves. In the short term, the Duchy alone will hardly be able to buy enough grain from the neighboring human nations... I can only do my best."

"The dragonborn..." Helagor's expression was complicated, and it was a long while before he let out a sigh. "Those mountains are no land of plenty. To sustain the primal dragons, with their enormous consumption, will be a great burden upon the dragonborn—so do what you can. After all, we never intended to rely on the strength of the Holy Dragon Duchy..."

"For this reckless plan of ours, the dragonborn have already borne far too much without knowing it," Anqian said with a sigh of his own. "We ought to have been their shelter and their guide, and in the end we have become their burden instead."

Bayang'er shook his head. "For many years I have watched over the Holy Dragon Duchy; I have watched the dragonborn come, bit by bit, to where they are today. Genetic modification took their wings, and even left them able to survive in human form for most of their lives, yet the dragonborn have never forgotten Talund—we are bound by blood.

"Perhaps not every dragonborn can understand what we are doing, but I believe that most of them, once they know the truth, will choose to help their mother race. After all, we are all dragons."

After that, silence fell over the platform for a time. The three leaders each pondered matters of far-reaching consequence, so that none of them spoke; apart from the wind whistling past, there came only the occasional beat of wings as search teams took off and landed, and the fitful strains of music drifting up from deep within the camp.

The daylight seemed dimmer than before, and scattered stars were emerging from the side of the sky nearer to nightfall. Hragor raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the still, cold night sky; he drew a deep breath and let it slowly out.

And just then, his expression abruptly changed.

"Hragor?" An Qian, the nearest of them, was the first to notice the change in his old friend. "What's wrong with you?"

"Did you hear it?" Hragor's face was gravely serious, his eyes so heavy with dread they were almost frightening. "Did you hear... 'Him'?"

An Qian and Bayang'er were at first merely startled by Hragor's expression, but an instant later they were truly frightened by his words, and the two of them cried out almost in unison: "'Him'?!"

"You didn't hear it?" Hragor's gaze swept across the faces of his two old friends, as though confirming whether their minds were sound. "Just now, for a moment, an echo appeared."

"No," An Qian said, tensing as well. He checked the state of his own mind again and again before shaking his head firmly. "I'm certain of it."

"I didn't hear it either," Bayang'er confirmed likewise.

Frowning, Hragor checked his own mind as well; only after a full half minute did he relax slightly, yet his knit brows did not loosen in the least.

"Could it be a hallucination brought on by too much tension?" Bayang'er asked hesitantly. "The shackles have vanished—we've confirmed that again and again—and once the ritual is complete, the process is irreversible."

"...I wish it were a hallucination, but I dare not lightly use the word 'hallucination' to explain any anomaly that occurs within my own mind," Hragor said in a low voice. "We... had best confirm it once more."