Chapter 949 — Who's the One Out of Character?
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The great dragon flew over the city, and the wonders of Tarrande—far beyond anything human civilization could boast—unfurled before Gaoyang's eyes.
Metzen had said this land lacked change. As a member of Tarrande society she had clearly gazed upon these magnificent sights for many, many years, and it was only natural that she had grown weary of them. Yet for Gaoyang and the others, seeing Tarrande for the first time, the landscape of this land was still enough to fill them with astonishment.
"Don't misunderstand me," Gaodai said. "I'm only marveling at how far you've come. You may have looked upon this scenery for many years, but to every race on the continent of Loren, it remains a height they can never reach."
"Utterly magnificent, prosperous beyond belief," Virodai broke the silence from the side, the saint princess sighing with utter sincerity. "In its day, the imperial capital of Gondor might barely have compared to this, but Gondor's prosperity was confined to a single city—Tarrande's splendor spreads across the entire continent..."
Here she paused, weighing several words before continuing. "So I find myself somewhat unable to understand why a people as powerful as you would be content to lie dormant on this far-northern continent. You said yourself just now that dragons are not born lovers of the Arctic's harsh environment, and that Loren's living conditions are plainly far more comfortable for you—you don't even have to expend effort building ecological domes."
It was an obvious fact, yet somehow strange once spoken aloud. The might of the great dragons was beyond doubt; even setting aside their formidable civilization, the dragons' own power and what appeared to be no small "population" would have let these mighty beings conquer the world with ease. Yet the fact was they had not done so—for hundreds of thousands, even millions of years they had remained huddled in this far-northern world. And so the "weak races"—humans, elves, dwarves—had instead come to occupy the most hospitable lands in the world, while the dragons... had become creatures of story and legend.
To Virodai, such "reticence" was inconceivable, and she did not believe the dragons' "self-discipline" and "self-seclusion" could be explained away by some "noble spirit."
At Virodai's question, Metzen fell briefly silent. Only after several seconds did she shake her head. "You're right. By any ordinary reckoning, a race like ours would indeed have the power to rule this world, and in that case the native civilizations of the other continents would never have had the chance to develop at all... But we cannot do that. The High Council and the Senate strictly forbid dragons from interfering in the development of other continents—even our gods forbid it. So here we are...
"As for the deeper reasons? I'm afraid I don't know. I'm a relatively young member of the dragon race. I suppose I have some standing... but not enough to come into contact with the will of those above.
"But if you're truly curious—especially if you, Gaoyang, feel curious—perhaps you could simply go and ask our god. He might give you some answers. After all, you are the guest He invited."
Gaoyang merely gave a brief "mm" in reply. Most of his attention was already fixed on the scenery of Tarrande, and in his careful observation he sought a way to gather intelligence on this kingdom—he tried to organize and infer useful information about dragon civilization from those breathtaking, exquisitely beautiful, inconceivable sights, because everything here... was so very different from what he had imagined.
Metzen traced an arc through the night sky, beginning to pass over the city's buildings and fly toward a mountain not far off. On that mountain stood tall palaces and castles; halfway up its slopes could be seen many houses a size smaller than the palaces, houses that seemed to spread from the urban district at the mountain's foot all the way up the slope—and these too were brightly lit.