Chapter 1050 — Hope and the Future
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
A meteor suddenly appeared in Metzen's field of view, trailing a bright tail and scorching firelight, carving a striking arc across the dim dusk as if a blade had abruptly cleaved the sky of Thalundor—and then, in moments, it vanished from everyone's sight, plunging at a slant toward the distant earth.
A while later, Metzen finally saw a hazy bloom of firelight and dust rising near the horizon.
"Did you all see that!?" Only then did Metzen snap out of it, her eyes wide as she looked toward Karador and the other kin. "That thing just now... was that a meteor!?"
"A meteor?" Karador murmured instinctively, lifting his head—and many dragons present raised theirs as well, before more than half of them reflexively jerked their gazes back down from the sky, as though dreading some imminent punishment, yet the punishment did not come—gazing at the stars was no longer taboo on the continent of Thalundor.
Karador only managed to catch a fading smear of light at the edge of the sky.
"That was strange... I don't know if it was a meteor," Metzen said, still gazing into the distance, her tone uncertain. "I've only ever happened to glimpse a few meteors now and then, but that one just now... seemed slower than the ones I've seen, and it had a long trail of fire and smoke..."
Karador withdrew his gaze from the horizon and let his eyes settle once more on the vessel before Noreta. Before concerning himself with that fading gleam of starlight, he first resumed the earlier topic. "We need to get those dragon eggs out—those of you lightly wounded, those still with strength, those still able to fly, step forward."
Metzen looked around, and before her gaze had swept the whole gathering, one figure after another had already stepped out from the ranks of dragons.
"I still don't think digging at those polymer slag heaps and alloy barriers with our claws is a good idea," said a black dragon not far from Metzen, shaking its head. "But count me in anyway—black dragons have at least got a bit more brawn."
Karador nodded. "Good, then we'll first—"
Before the red dragon could finish, the sound of dragon wings beating the air suddenly came from above, and Metzen instinctively looked up to see a massive, aged dragon spreading its wings and descending slowly from the sky.
It was a black dragon, but so ancient that its scales had turned almost gray-white across its entire body, and traces of implant modification covered it from head to tail—nearly every inch of scale bore components gleaming with a metallic sheen. At this moment many of those implants were dark and inert, and many more were visibly half-dismantled, making the aged dragon look like some ancient machine wheeled out of a museum—weathered, ancient, majestic, yet scarred beyond measure.
The instant the black dragon alighted from the sky, nearly every dragon present lowered its head, Metzen included—she recognized the black dragon's identity: this was the Grand Elder of the Senate, Lord Dukemore. Though the Council and the Senate were two independently operating bodies, and Metzen had seldom had contact with Senate members in the past, at this moment there was no longer any distinction between Senate and Council on the soil of Thalundor; a living primordial dragon was a treasure beyond price.
"Elder Dukemore," the red dragon Karador stepped forward at once, "what brings you here? Your implant surgery is not yet complete—these components must be removed as soon as possible—"
"It doesn't matter—the advantage of primitive-type implants is that even cut off from the Omega system, their basic life-support functions operate normally," Elder Dukemore said slowly, his voice somewhat hoarse. "Did you just see something fall from the sky? It landed to the northwest of the camp..."
"I saw it!" Metzen said at once. "It looked like a meteor!"