Chapter 533: 11. Raphael
Beneath Fisher, the figure of the blue-scaled Dragon Race gradually overlapped with that of Ral, the youngest among the Dragon Race sisters at the time. But the originally innocent child, who was oblivious to the slave trade she was experiencing back then, now appeared exceptionally calm.
She had not yet grown the shimmering dragon horns, and the strands of light blue curly hair, damp with sweat, clung to her forehead, obscuring her features slightly. On her body, aside from the two sharp daggers, parts of lightweight armor protecting critical areas were also visible, continuously emitting wisps of steam from beneath.
Fisher knew well that this phenomenon occurred when the Dragon Race was emotionally disturbed.
Fisher’s gaze gradually moved down, taking in everything familiar or surprising about the other person, until he caught sight of a deep scar on her exposed neck, which made him pause. He did not know if it was these scars that had fueled the fierce attack from the blue Dragon Race just moments before.
Ral beneath him was gasping, and like Fisher, she was trying to confirm whether the man before her, whose hair had grown long and clothes were increasingly ragged, was indeed the well-dressed gentleman from years ago.
Both his voice and appearance confirmed it, but even with the answer clear, she continued to watch Fisher, waiting for him to respond.
After a moment of silence, Fisher gently released Ral’s two restrained wrists and replied,
“.It’s me, Ral.”
He then stood up, glanced at the surrounding soldiers from the Red Dragon Court who were still watching with caution, and did not take further action. He abandoned his earlier plan and simply asked,
“Raphael, where is she?”
Fisher’s voice gradually pulled Ral back to reality. She slowly sat up, not responding immediately but spoke to the soldiers around her first,
“He is a friend, not an enemy of the false court. Please carry the injured Carpon and Rul back first, don’t worry.”
The nearby soldiers from the Red Dragon Court, along with the injured being carried away, looked at Ral, who now seemed to be their lead, with some skepticism. After one of the subhumans said, “We will report this to the Dragon Queen,” they turned to leave.
“I’ll speak to her myself.”
Ral added, and as the soldiers walked further away, eventually disappearing into the same colored leaves and trees, Ral turned back to look at Fisher. After surveying Fisher from head to toe, she smiled and asked him,
“Fisher, how did you end up like this? You were in formal attire and had a staff before, now you look like a beggar. But you are still as handsome as before.”
The silence was broken by Ral’s simple statement, causing Fisher to smile as well. He extended his hand to pull her up from the ground,
“I wonder how the little one who only knew how to hide in Mill’s arms could suddenly use daggers.”
“It’s a long story, all for the sake of the New Dragon Court.”
Ral clapped her hands and moved a bit closer to Fisher. She had shot up in height, now reaching below Fisher’s ribs, having once barely been half his height. She patted Fisher’s shoulder and said,
“But you probably don’t want to hear that, right? Come with me, I’ll take you to see Raphael—ah, what is that ugly thing?!”
Just as Ral was about to say something with a smile, she caught sight of what seemed to be an eye blinking at her from Fisher’s chest. At first, she thought it was a hallucination from the battle, but upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn’t disappearing; instead, it blinked even faster, as if scrutinizing her.
She quickly stepped back, speaking defensively,
“Emhart, how dare you! I am the great Sir Book Emhart, not some ugly thing! This is the first time I’ve met such an impolite Dragon Race; congratulations, you’ve lowered my overall opinion of your kind. I’ve decided to deduct two names from Raphael’s list!”
“Fisher, what list?”
Ral looked puzzled at Fisher, who remained expressionless as he pulled the ranting Emhart back to himself, simply explaining,
“It’s nothing. Let me introduce you. This is Sir Book Emhart, a good friend of mine. He cares a lot about how others address him, so don’t mind it.”
Upon hearing Fisher refer to him as a “good friend,” Emhart gradually settled down. Although he continued to glare at Ral with a displeased look, he finally stopped disrupting Fisher’s already stressful situation.
“I’m sorry, I was just startled. Fisher, come with me. Raphael is on the first front line, not far from here.”
“First front line?”
“Ah, it refers to the most advanced position in our line against the false court.”
Ral did not elaborate further, just picked up the hook lock that Fisher had discarded and slung it over her shoulder, as if such a weapon was indispensable even for the Red Dragon Court.
“You’re still as formidable as before, unlike those other humans. We can’t do anything against you with so many of us.”
Ral moved quickly alongside Fisher towards a very discreet direction of the mountains, not leisurely but rather moving swiftly through the dense forest and cliffs. From her nimble and familiar movements, it was clear she had traveled this route many times before.
Of course, they didn’t remain quiet while moving; their dialogue resembled that of their earlier time on the carriage, albeit the once naïve questions from Ral had significantly matured,
“I’m actually curious, why did you all focus on me?”
In reality, when Fisher had first entered the town, he noticed he unconsciously exerted pressure on other non-mythical beings, a phenomenon he, as a newly myth rank individual, couldn’t control. While most mythical beings and the nineteen-ranked archangels he encountered back in the Holy Realm seemed quite gentle most of the time.
He concluded that there must be a way for those at the mythical rank to lower their presence, making themselves less noticeable and imposing.
He had tried various approaches during this time, such as consciously restraining his actions and becoming more taciturn, but from Ingrid’s many attempts to communicate with him through body language, it seemed utterly ineffective.
Thus, it appeared strange for the subhuman soldiers to focus on him.
Ral, leaping ahead, looked back at Fisher with confusion,
“Ah, because we frequently ambush the advancing forces of the false court, we generally take action against strangers; of course, other than you, there wouldn’t be any lost passersby here. And your outfit differs greatly from before, plus it’s been so long, so I didn’t recognize you at first.”
Somewhat off-topic, but Fisher realized that Ral seemed completely unaware of his mythical status, merely thinking of him as impressive as before.
That was quite strange.
Fisher did not pursue the matter further and continued following the swaying-tailed Ral.
Her tail was shorter and thinner compared to Raphael’s, but Fisher felt that the tails of the Dragon Race, like other aspects such as steam and scales, could reflect their emotions to some extent, often unaware to the bearer themselves.
They moved swiftly, reaching a strange, naturally formed hollow cave within a quarter of an hour. Yet the surroundings still appeared desolate, lacking vitality, suggesting it was not the central command of Raphael’s frontline.
Ral halted, then turned to Fisher and said,
“Fisher, please wait here for a moment, okay? I’m sorry, but I can’t take you to Raphael and the frontline command right now. It’s not because I distrust you, but many of our comrades have developed biases against humans from the Western Continent, and this isn’t something Raphael alone can decide. I don’t want to cause trouble for Raphael, nor do I want your long-awaited reunion to be filled with tension.”
“I understand, thank you, Ral.”
Her gaze was somewhat evasive, but rather than leaving these words for Raphael later, she seemed more willing to take on the role of the “villain” herself.
Fortunately, before coming here, Fisher had already prepared for this.
So at this moment, he merely nodded in understanding.
Ral gratefully turned to look at Fisher, then tossed the dagger in her hand to him from a distance. With a puzzled expression, he watched as she turned away, preparing to leave with one last comment,
“Please trim your long hair and beard if you want. Though I don’t think Raphael would mind.”
“Because you are still the same as before.”
Saying this, she leaped against the adjacent cliff and bounded into the distance of the dense forest, quickly disappearing from Fisher’s sight, leaving him uncertain of her whereabouts.
“Ha, that Dragon Race. Alright, I’ll temporarily forgive her for her earlier rudeness. But it’s quite rare; according to their perspective, you’ve been gone for over five years. How long did your journey in the Southern Continent with them last?”
“.Not long.”
“Really? That’s surprising; I initially thought the Dragon Songs recorded in those wildernesses were fake. I once read about a black male Dragon who had a crush on a yellow Dragon and spent a lot of effort to catch her attention, eventually marrying her. This process took barely two months, and unfortunately, after his wife married him, she passed away from illness.”
Fisher walked into the cave with the dagger, and Emhart, perched on his shoulder, sighed,
“It’s hard to imagine that after his wife’s death, he began to inscribe his wife’s ‘Dragon Songs’ on a wall, writing over two hundred pieces until his death; the entire wall was covered. The Dragon Song, ah, it’s a language that’s difficult to understand, said to be the voice of the soul. As long as it can be sung, the emotions within can be felt. It’s a pity that the Feimabaha Dragon Court has been extinct for so long; no one seems to write anymore, and I’ve only seen it in ruins.”
Fisher nodded, noticing a dripping rock inside the cave, beneath which a clear pool sparkled with faint light, vaguely reflecting his outline.
That would be enough.
Fisher raised the dagger, preparing to trim his long hair and beard, but only then did he notice a strange inscription in Nali language on the handle.
He looked down to see it written,
“Bread.”
Staring at the word, Fisher could not help but chuckle at first, but soon after, he lifted the dagger and began grooming his appearance.
“Snip.”
“Snip.”
“Snip.”
His movements were gentle and slow, and his thoughts gradually calmed during the process. Everything around them became exceedingly quiet, to the point where even Emhart, bored, began yawning, flitting about aimlessly, and complaining about why that Dragon Race called “Raphael” hadn’t yet arrived.
Until the hair fell to the ground, and in his eyes, it seemed to gain life, turning into indistinguishable black bugs that wriggled and slowly turned to ash. He suddenly halted his blade.
At that moment, in his keen mythic intuition, he heard a rapid running sound approaching from behind.
Accompanying that were breath sounds with an irregular pattern, the clinking of armor against armor, and the friction between armor and scales.
He didn’t turn around, only listened as the running footsteps grew ever quicker, until even Emhart seemed to pick it up, hastily returning to his arms and peering cautiously through one eye at the dim light from outside that appeared to separate the two worlds.
But Fisher still did not look back, just tightened his grip on the dagger little by little.
“Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat.”
As they neared the cave, the originally hurried footsteps became slower.
It seemed as if some disbelief or uncertainty was slowing down their pace until the figure caught sight of the cave and the back of the person inside. Only then did her steps really slow down, as if each movement required tremendous effort.
Until she arrived at the cave entrance, blocking the sunlight, casting a hot, armored figure with long hair and raised tail upon Fisher’s back.
Emhart swallowed, watching the dragon silhouette at the opening.
Until she stepped forward, passed through the light that served as a threshold, and entered the cave.
The shadow gradually climbed down from Fisher, reaching the ground and approaching her body.
At this moment, Fisher too turned slightly, taking in the figure not far behind him.
It was a soul seemingly ablaze, surrounded by faint steam, rendering her heavily armored body appear so graceful in Fisher’s eyes.
Her tail rose incredulously, quivering like a rattlesnake, then drooped down, curling around her feet, nervously observing the distant gentleman like a shy maiden.
She clenched her fist a bit, and the protective scales, serving as a second layer of armor, started to tremble once again, as if attracted by something indescribable.
She did not wear a helmet; her striking red hair spilled over the beautifully designed armor. The expression on her exceptionally beautiful face was difficult to describe at that moment, but Fisher felt the muscles around her eyes continuously twitching weakly.
Beneath a pair of bright horns, her emerald green eyes—like a pool of clear spring water—gazed into the man’s figure, thereafter splashing gentle visible ripples.
The Dragon Race before him was of the rare red-scaled variety; she was the Dragon Queen of the southern Dragon Court, which fiercely resisted in the Southern Continent.
Before him stood Ral, Fisher’s suitable tail partner, Raphael.
“Fei…”
In these years, her appearance hadn’t changed much, remaining as pure as when he had left, but no longer impulsive.
She slowly approached Fisher. The two who had been separated for so long might even feel some awkwardness in this reunion.
The emotions of missing Raphael and the eagerness to meet that Fisher had initially considered, as well as the words he had simmered over for so long to tell her, had now turned into blankness with the sight of her face.
He suddenly found himself unsure of what to say, just like the Ral before him, his lips trembled for a long while but only revealed the opening of his name.
Damn it, say something!
Emhart, observing from Fisher’s shoulder, had seen enough storms and waves. At this moment, he glanced at Fisher, then at the unfamiliar Ral, and truly wished he could shout this out loud to awaken the two from their bewilderment.
But he refrained and instead dutifully played the role of a lifeless book, leaving the reunion entirely for them to feel.
There were no words exchanged, but their distance to each other gradually closed.
It was amid this proximity that Ral’s tail and scales, or rather, her very soul, seemed to sense something first.
As if she input the correct password, the sharp, elevated scales on her body visibly and dramatically began to flatten, releasing an exuberant steam that resembled a soothing song of joy.
At that moment, all the distance and strangeness formed from long separation dissolved into nothing, leaving only the heavy longing filled with many grievances yearning to be expressed.
Ral’s eyes misted over, and she suddenly lunged into Fisher’s embrace as if wanting to sink into his body completely.
Her tail coiled around him, startling Emhart, causing him to fly out unexpectedly and leaving room for Ral to rely on.
“Wuwuwu…”
“.”
Fisher also stretched out his arms tightly to hold her, even though there was a layer of armor in between, it still could not block the warmth radiating from her.
Unexpectedly, the double horns that had once seemed entirely illusory to Fisher now truly touched his body, creating an invisible bridge connecting them tightly at the point where their dragon horns made contact.
At this moment, they really were like a pair of true Dragon Race couples, their souls linked through horns and scales, embodying the celebrated love of their kind.
A drop of hot tear flowed down her face, and only then did she raise her head a bit, bringing her dragon horns closer to Fisher’s face, drawing them nearer together.
In that instant, she finally felt at ease.
Everything she now sensed was not a dream, but something truly real.
Before her stood Fisher, the one she had longed for.
She nuzzled against his face and said,
“I’m so glad you’re back, Fisher.”
And Fisher lowered his head, accepting everything she was, softly replying,
“Yeah, I’m back, Raphael.”
