Chapter 536: 14. Happy Things
The “voluntary adventurer” Emhart silently passed through the woods, somewhat bored as he observed his surroundings, but nothing seemed to capture his interest.
As a relic, Emhart actually did not need sleep; sleep felt more like an option for him to “skip” that period of time, allowing his spirit to be more energized, but it was entirely unnecessary.
Emhart was a coward; unprotected sleep made him feel very insecure, so most of the time he did not need to sleep, only doing so when traveling with Fisher.
Therefore, without Fisher by his side, the nights felt especially long and boring.
However, who had called that thirsty Dragon Queen back to his side? Who knew how long this clash of strong wills would last? He could afford to return a little later.
What should he do with himself?
As Emhart flew, he pondered, even contemplating just lying down in an unknown corner and waiting until dawn.
He hesitated, lingering in the woods, when suddenly he caught a whiff of something only he could smell. His single eye widened slightly, as if he were being led by that invisible scent, involuntarily directing the cover of his book toward it.
“Um, this smell. Could there be something of value hidden in this deep mountain forest?”
After thinking for a moment, he flew in that direction. Soon, he saw a faint firelight in the dense forest, casting a warm hue on the surrounding dark trees.
Carefully, Emhart crept behind tree trunks, using them as cover as he slowly moved forward, quickly getting a clear view of the scene near the firelight.
It turned out that someone had made a campfire, seated around it were four figures of different races and clothing styles. From their outfits and weapons, they appeared to be from the Red Dragon Court, possibly a night patrol squad.
At the forefront was a yellow-scaled dragonfolk, sitting beside a large stone, clad in standard burlap attire. He kept a large sword by his side while cheerfully carving something into the stone with a dagger.
“Hey, Bull, what are you carving?”
Emhart blinked and quickly realized that the alluring scent he had noticed earlier came from what the yellow dragonfolk was carving on the stone.
That was…
Listening to another one of the werewolves nearby with a musket inquire, the yellow dragonfolk smiled brightly and replied,
“It’s the ‘Dragon Song,’ just recording something.”
“Dragon Song? What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”
“My wife told me it’s an ancient form of art among us dragonfolk. I had never heard of it before either; I learned about it from my wife and the Queen Mother.”
“What does it say? Let me hear it.”
Next to the werewolf, a long-haired, somewhat unkempt black-haired human woman smiled slightly, teasing the yellow dragonfolk named “Bull.”
“Hey, ‘Dragon Song’ records some things I thought about that aren’t important enough for public display.”
“Come on, Mill, aren’t you about to have your third child? Isn’t this related to that?”
The werewolf chuckled, leaning closer to inspect the carvings, which resembled magical runes similar to those engraved by humans.
“Hey, no, that’s not it! Don’t tease me!”
Hiding behind the tree, Emhart stared intently at the faintly glowing “Dragon Song” and indeed found a clue.
Previously, when he wandered the Southern Continent, the “Dragon Songs” he had seen were left by dragonfolk long ago. Although he could understand some of the content, he thought it merely a form of poetic art carved into walls, unable to relate it to the concept of the “Song of Souls.”
But now that an actual dragonfolk had carved a Dragon Song, he instantly thought of the magic Fisher had inscribed.
It turned out this group of dragonfolk was expressing their thoughts by channeling the soul energy contained in their dragon horns!
Emhart squinted as he peeked over and saw the glowing words on the stone twisting slightly, as if slowly floating before his eyes, forming lines of intense light.
At the same time, a voice, seemingly Bull’s singing, drifted into his ears.
“Fight, fight, fight!”
Suddenly, the scene in front of Emhart shifted, becoming two sharply contrasting shadows, one of whom had unique double horns and a long tail. At first glance, he thought of Raphael, Fisher’s partner!
But who was the other?
Emhart couldn’t see clearly; it seemed that figure was clad in heavy, shimmering golden armor, obscuring many of her features. He could just about discern that she appeared to be a female.
“Friendship like gold, fight for freedom; friendship like flames, overcome hardships together!”
The scene in front of him kept transforming, and Emhart seemed to see those two women facing various challenges together, their bonds releasing sparkling golden light as they sang aloud behind countless banners of the Dragon Court, seemingly transforming into a real giant dragon soaring into the sky.
Just by looking at that Dragon Song, Emhart could feel the deep bond of camaraderie between Raphael and her partner. Even onlookers like Bull were immensely grateful to these two leaders fighting side by side.
“O Queen, you fight at the front; O Priestess, you gather herbs and find peace at the rear!”
The images in the Dragon Song shifted dramatically, showing Raphael wielding her blade, fighting valiantly at the front, while at the other end, the unnamed subhuman in golden armor stayed in the Dragon Court, organizing production and maintaining order.
One was fighting fiercely ahead, while the other supported from behind, exchanging glances across the distance.
“But, oh, how many obstacles we face; but, oh, how lost we feel.”
The scene suddenly darkened. Above, a pure golden sun, like a gory and menacing eye, rose slowly; it should have been a glorious sun but instantly consumed everything around it, casting darkness over the Southern Continent’s land, including Raphael and the unknown female subhuman.
The raging fires of war fueled by blood spread relentlessly. Amidst countless piled-up corpses, the yellow dragonfolk gazed at his weary comrades, at the weeping and fighting Queen and Priestess, and with strong determination, he could not help but ask,
“When will this war cease, so I can lay down my weapon? When can the blades rest, so I can embrace my wife and children with my farming tools?”
The moment the Dragon Song ended, Emhart dizzyingly bumped into a nearby tree, uncontrollably falling from the air.
“Thud!”
The others were also dumbfounded, staring at the Dragon Song Bull had carved on the giant stone. Perhaps Bull indeed lacked any experience in creating Dragon Songs; in terms of technique and understanding, he fell far short of what Emhart had read before.
But a Dragon Song was still a Dragon Song; it emphasized the resonance between souls rather than the technique of creation.
The other comrades, soldiers of the Dragon Court entrenched in the mire of war, deeply resonated with Bull’s thoughts, thus becoming completely absorbed in it, only waking up when they heard something drop in the nearby grass.
At the edge of the campfire, the black-haired human woman blinked in surprise, then wiped her wet eyes and cautiously looked over, asking,
“Who is it?”
Silence.
After a moment’s pause, there was still no sound.
The woman turned back to exchange glances with her companions, and then they all raised their weapons and moved toward the sound, wary of any possible attack from the Northern False Dragon Court.
However, after waiting a moment, they only saw a book lying on the ground, spinning dizzily with a single eye.
“Ugh, is this… the Dragon Song? My head is so dizzy.”
“Bull, is this a… book? And it can talk?!”
A voice reported, pulling Emhart back from his originally muddled consciousness. He looked blearily at his surroundings and could only see the silhouette of a black-haired woman.
Huh, this figure…
He felt he had seen it somewhere.
In the dim, hazy light, suddenly a memory that seemed to belong to another world popped up.
He appeared to remember a human woman with similarly long black hair who could cover her face and features entirely.
She was dressed in rags, her lips seemingly bearing an unclear smile.
She seemed to have said something to him long ago…
What was it again?
“Little one, do you know that you are precious?”
“Of course, for I am the great Sir Book!”
“Hahahaha, hello, great Sir Book, I am the great Ultraman.”
“… What is that?”
“Someone slightly stronger than you.”
“There’s nothing in this world stronger than me.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you still looking for? If you’re that strong, shouldn’t you have found everything by now?”
“I’m looking for the Holy Spawn that created me and the Holy Realm they live in. Do you know where they are?”
“Oh no, I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be slightly stronger than me? How come you don’t know anything?”
“Because I’m a madman; I may know, but I’ve forgotten.”
“Hehe.”
“But I can help you a little with something else.”
The hazy figure gradually approached him, very much resembling someone from long ago.
It seemed before leaving, she told him,
“Hey, little one, I can make those who don’t understand not notice your preciousness. In the eyes of most people, no matter what astonishing things you say or how wondrous you appear, they will only discover your mediocrity and display their friendliness. Unless you want it, no one will have any ill thoughts about you. This way, you can go wherever you wish, and one day you will find your Holy Realm, okay?”
“… But then no one will know my greatness! If others could see my greatness, those who know about the greatness of the Holy Spawn would tell me clues about them!”
“Then you should just say it, great Sir Book, little one~”
“Um, I don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand; just know it will be really helpful for you.”
However, these fragmented memories in Emhart’s mind nearly vanished in an instant, for on some earlier day, they were ruthlessly pulled away and stripped from him by a pair of smiling eyes.
“Rip!!”
That merciless monster was…
“Baemon!! Ughhh!”
At the mere thought of that grinning, hazy figure, extreme fear instantly jolted Emhart awake, screaming as if he had just awakened from a never-ending nightmare.
But when he opened his eyes, everything from that dream had vanished, causing him to forget why he felt fear and what he was remembering.
In front of him stood the equally shocked soldiers of the Dragon Court, patrolling the night.
“What is this thing? It can’t be a weapon developed by the False Court, right?”
Once his vision became clearer, the black-haired woman’s appearance gradually morphed into that of a completely unfamiliar local human from the Southern Continent.
She looked at the flying Emhart, and her first words were:
“Right, this guy could possibly be a weapon of the False Court; we need to bring him down!”
“I feel like he resembles a relic, like a clumsy thing that can quickly extract salt from the sea, but seems to be useless.”
“Mind you, stop comparing me to other relics; I am the great Sir Book!”
Feeling insulted, Emhart began to scold them. His furious demeanor caused the soldiers in the camp to burst into laughter.
“Hahaha, he can even curse! Listen to him! Hahaha!”
“Hahahaha.”
Emhart glared at them through gritted teeth, suddenly wishing this group could recognize his worth as easily as the Archangel Remiel had back in the Holy Realm, unlike these ordinary folks.
But remembering how Remiel had spun him like a top inside her sleeve, he couldn’t help but yawn.
He blinked and flew over to the those soldiers laughing until their stomachs hurt, and after a moment of silence, he looked at Bull, who had written the Dragon Song, and asked,
“You wrote a good Dragon Song; can you tell me more about its content?”
“Hahaha, he even listens to Dragon Songs?! Oh my, I’m dying of laughter!”
“You mom!”
“Okay, okay.”
No matter how much Bull suppressed his laughter, he still faced the book in front of the campfire and began to explain,
“Our Queen and Priestess are simply the best friends on the continent.”
“You don’t know, but earlier when we expelled humans…”
“Chirp chirp.”
It was early morning, and outside, the early-rising birds in the trees began to unleash their pent-up energy, singing away like they were proclaiming, “Spring has come!”
Of course, all of this could potentially be the subjective interpretation of the listener; however, today was different because the cave indeed felt full of Spring’s ambiance.
“Um.”
The singing birds woke Fisher, who was still lost in slumber. He squinted his eyes slightly, having not slept this comfortably in a long time. The last time this happened felt quite a while back.
At this moment, the cave and the bedding appeared exceptionally warm; he wanted to shift his body a bit but only felt a tail resting heavily upon him. More surprisingly, the nearby “Dragon Queen” still seemed unsated, pressing up against him.
Her face, adorned with ethereal double horns, was snug against his chest, a cascade of hair descending like a rose waterfall wilting over the bedding, his hands, and the covers.
A contented Raphael was sleeping soundly, seemingly dreaming of something that brought a slight smile to her lips, reflecting the intimacy of the previous night.
Her scales lay flat, not poking at him at all, instead feeling unusually soft and pleasant to touch.
Having not seen her for a long time, Fisher found himself unsatisfied even after a night spent together.
At that moment, his large hand gently stroked her back, feeling her heartbeat and warmth, a sense of contentment rising from his heart, unaware of when Raphael in his embrace might wake up.
She remained silent, simply enjoying the time in tranquil comfort.
Only when Fisher felt the tail nestled in the bedding wriggle comfortably did he snap back from the complete blankness in his mind, noticing her eyes had already opened.
“Woke up?”
“Ah.”
The caught Raphael didn’t display the shock of being found out like a cat caught in hide-and-seek; rather, she stretched like a cat.
A stream of sweet, gentle steam wafted from the bedding, and she still seemed unsatisfied, gently nibbling at Fisher’s muscles.
However, under the stimulation of her somewhat sharp fangs, all Fisher felt was a tickle.
He stole a glance at her in his embrace, only to hear her mumble,
“Fisher, do you think I’ve changed?”
“Um, you’ve become more sharp.”
“Thud!”
Raphael shot a glare at Fisher, then slapped her tail against the bedding in protest, leading Fisher to backtrack and say,
“No, you haven’t changed at all, not even a bit.”
Upon hearing this, Raphael paused slightly, her face buried in Fisher’s arms revealing either disappointment or relief. She smiled faintly and said,
“That’s good.”
“Is it really that important to change or not?”
“I think there’s a little. I want to improve, although not changing also means not getting worse; however…”
Raphael may have just felt it wasn’t enough.
“Then do you think I’ve changed, Raphael?”
Raphael raised her head to look at Fisher, then her complexion slightly reddened as her gaze began to dodge.
“You’ve become… stronger.”
“… Besides that?”
Raphael supported her chin in Fisher’s embrace, carefully studying him, and after a few seconds, she replied,
“Um, I think you haven’t changed at all.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“If Emhart knew you said that, he’d definitely roll his eyes.”
Fisher chuckled helplessly before continuing,
“Perhaps I haven’t changed at all; I just feel you might not notice because you don’t care about this. Conversely, Raphael, I feel the same way. I am here for you and nothing else. Therefore, I hope you don’t think of other factors, okay?”
After hearing this, Raphael lifted her gaze to meet Fisher’s serious expression. She edged closer once more, capturing his lips and tongue, conveying her warmth.
After a long while, she slowly retreated with shimmering eyes, smiling as she rose slowly from the bedding, grabbed their clothes from beside her and Fisher, and said,
“We will set out for the back today; the False Court’s army is coming, and before that, I need to make all the necessary preparations while I still have this final moment to breathe.”
“Okay.”
Raphael smiled slightly and then stood up, changing into her armor in front of Fisher.
After spending the night together, Raphael appeared even lighter and more agile. She cheerfully organized everything, preparing to leave the cave for some provisions to bring back for Fisher.
To expedite the preparations, this trip to the back included only Fisher and Raphael, while the rest of the Dragon Court army, including Ral, remained at the Southern Branch Mountain guarding the Dragon Court’s front lines, keeping in touch with Raphael to respond to any potential changes.
Compared to the light-footed and relaxed Raphael, Fisher’s movements appeared slightly slower.
Of course, this wasn’t because he had been drained by Raphael. If anything, Fisher had an almost endless capacity for that; otherwise, he wouldn’t be so greedy and indulgent.
Firstly, after attaining Mythical Rank, he no longer needed to pack any bags or consume vast amounts of food. His greatest enemy now was the chaos and instability within his body. Compared to eating, experiencing the warmth of the previous night could indeed benefit him even more.
Another reason was Emhart; he had voluntarily ventured out for adventure last night. Not knowing how the situation unfolded, Fisher hadn’t agreed upon a specific return time and had no idea where he had gone or when he might return.
Before parting ways with Raphael, he had to find him.
Thinking about all of this, Fisher quickly donned a set of brand new attire. This clothing with Southern Continent style fit him perfectly. While it lacked the luxury and gentlemanly flair of Nali’s clothes, it exuded a wild sense of spirit. But Fisher was a natural fit for clothing; even in the nude, he didn’t look out of place, let alone with this outfit meticulously stitched by Ral.
It looked pretty good.
Fisher surveyed himself, then stuffed all his belongings into his attire, preparing to set off in search of Emhart.
However, just as he was about to depart, a square-shaped Emhart flew back in.
Upon returning, he inexplicably smiled at Fisher, leaving Fisher puzzled as to what was amusing him.
Fisher raised an eyebrow, unsure what was so funny. Had he lost his mind from spending the whole night out?
“What’s making you laugh?”
“Did I laugh?”
Emhart flew onto Fisher’s shoulder, surprisingly not a single complaint emerged from him.
In the past, if he temporarily left and returned, he would undoubtedly lay a barrage of criticisms on Fisher, pointing out various faults.
But today, he suddenly seemed to understand, which left Fisher a bit confused.
Could it be that there’s a benefit to reuniting after a period of separation?
Then, having been apart from Raphael for so long, if he revealed his past mistakes to her, would she easily forgive him?
After pondering for a long time without any clear answers, Fisher could only conclude that the guy had simply changed. Not caring too much, he merely said,
“We’re ready to set off.”
“Where are we headed?”
“The back of the Dragon Court; it seems the Northern Green Dragon Court is stirring, and Raphael needs to make some preparations. I do too… I want to figure out the connection between Barbatos, the Demon Dynasty, and Nali.”
Emhart barely heard the latter half of the sentence; upon hearing “the back of the Dragon Court,” he couldn’t restrain his laughter any longer, which only confused Fisher further. He couldn’t help but ask again,
“What are you laughing about?”
“I remembered something happy.”
“What is there to be happy about?”
“Last night, I found some meaningful knowledge, and I recorded it… Um, it’s like this… Hahahaha.”
“….”
Fisher raised an eyebrow, but seeing Emhart’s cheerful demeanor, he felt it fit his quirkiness after recording some knowledge, so he didn’t dwell on it too much.
He slowly walked out of the cave where they had stayed the night, turning to look further south toward their destination after Raphael and himself,
The back of the Dragon Court.
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