Chapter 75: Little Black Dragon

The night was deep, the moon draping the earth in velvet light.

“Land, and show respect,” Isiris said. “The ancestors of Leo’s bloodline are buried here.”

Xun had been reluctant at first, but upon hearing this, he blinked and landed, transforming into a chicken that walked on the ground.

With his bone wings folded at his sides, he glanced at Isiris’s long legs. In the next second, two slender legs like bamboo poles sprouted from the spot beneath him, and he followed behind the man on stilts.

Isiris caught sight of it in the mirror on the wall and couldn’t help but chuckle. This Xenoid had been raised by a very special cat into an exceptionally peculiar form.

The mausoleum was very quiet—this kingdom was deeply nostalgic. The flickering firelight on the walls lit the path; no doubt, someone came tirelessly every day and night to light those candles.

“As early as a hundred years ago, someone proposed installing night lights in the mausoleum, but the tomb keepers refused,” Isiris said to the non-human Xenoid. “Just consider it humanity’s strange persistence and sense of ritual.”

Deeper in, Xun spotted an elder draped in white sackcloth.

The tomb keeper’s back was already hunched, yet he still bowed low to the Monarch: “The sun.”

Isiris gave a slight nod and led Xun onward into the depths underground.

Their footsteps echoed between the icy rock walls, the surrounding temperature growing colder, the candlelight dimmer. Until a colossal stone door loomed before them like a mountain, and the man finally halted.

The door was pitch-black all over, clamped full of flowing seal runes.

Xun’s pupils contracted in an instant.

He sensed a certain aura. One from the Abyss, primal, sharing the same lineage as him. He unconsciously hopped forward a step, his wings trembling with excitement, his eyes glowing with fervent light.

He wanted to go in.

This longing was instinctual; somehow, he knew the thing sealed here could fill the missing piece in him.

But before he could get close, the runes on the door blazed fiercely, and scorching energy surged out in a flash.

“Bang!”

Xun was repelled by the barrier, flipping once in midair before crashing heavily to the ground. He rolled several times like a chestnut knocked from a tree—even the bamboo-pole legs he’d just grown were shaken loose, reverting him to a lump like a coal ball.

“I said,” Isiris spoke faintly, “you must learn restraint.”

Once Xun had fully learned his lesson, the blond Monarch finally raised his hand. With fingers slightly spread and palm facing down, as his knuckles clenched, the seal’s glow receded layer by layer like ebbing tides. The door, sealed for twenty years, emitted a low click and slowly opened.

Xun shook his head, hopped twice, and cautiously sidled up to the man’s feet. With the door open, the summoning pull grew even stronger, his instincts urging him to charge in, to devour, to fuse, to evolve, to grow stronger—but he held back.

This time, he restrained himself. He squatted in place, his wing-claws gripping the ground tightly.

“Not bad.” A cool word of praise, and Isiris stepped forward. Only then did Xun follow.

The moment he stepped inside, he saw it: in the center of the array lay a crimson dragon head, resting quietly. Its golden eyes glared wide open, dead yet unclosed, like an inextinguishable flame awaiting a gust of wind.

That was the head of an S-Rank Xenoid who had received a complete inheritance.

“I once severed his head and sealed him here.”

Isiris stood at the edge of the array, his gaze coldly overlooking his former mortal enemy. “For a Xenoid of this level, making it truly die is almost a pipe dream.”

“Without the seal, it would revive in a decade, a century, or even a millennium.”

Isiris lowered his eyes, his golden hair sliding with the motion, his gaze falling on the eager little monster. His tone was calm, nearly ruthless: “But now, it has a better destination.”

The instant his words fell, Xun flapped his wings and shot toward the dragon head.

As the seal loosened, the red dragon’s lingering consciousness ignited like a blaze, roaring violently: “Isiris——!!”

The voice boomed like thunder, its fury echoing through the entire underground palace.

But the blond Monarch had already turned away, leaving only one final low and icy command: “Devour it. Control it. Don’t disappoint me—or Leo.”

The night faded, dawn approaching.

Isiris stood quietly at the mausoleum’s exit, his longsword lowered in his hand, tip touching the ground, its chill gleam undimmed.

His golden hair was tousled by the morning breeze, his pupils deep as an abyss. He waited, to see exactly which Xenoid would emerge from the darkness.

After a long time, a faint rustling came from behind him.

“Crack—”

Stone chips fell from the ceiling as a small black dragon slowly dangled down upside-down. Red eyes, black scales, wing membranes not yet fully unfurled—its size was only a bit larger than a cat.

Isiris turned, raising his sword with a low hum of chill light: “Your name.”

The little black dragon dropped down, landing steadily on the ground. He shook his wings, spread his bone wings against the fading morning stars in the dawning light, and responded: “Xun.”

He was fully awake now. He still remembered who he was.

*

Li Ao slept until broad daylight, sprawled on his back with all four paws in the air, his fluffy belly rising and falling like a breathing white steamed bun.

He smacked his lips first, seemingly savoring the food from his dream, then drowsily rolled over and reached a paw behind his back. He scratched several times but missed. Before he could get anxious, a small claw scratched it for him.

“Meow—ow—” He let out a huge yawn, his tongue curling into a flower-petal shape, before slowly opening his bleary, misty eyes.

“Xun?” The kitten was stunned by what his head had been pillowed on—his brain hadn’t fully booted up yet. His paws fumbled around; the texture felt wrong… He sat up in sudden horror: “Y-you’re… you don’t have fur anymore?”

Far from just lacking fur—it was completely different.

No longer the soft, cool claw-feel from before. The kitten’s paws gestured all over, flipping Xun this way and that to inspect him.

The little black dragon retracted his sharp claw tips and obediently let the cat toy with him. Even when a paw pad brushed the vulnerable reverse scale at his throat, he merely shivered and pressed his head to the kitten’s chest.

“Li Ao,” the little black dragon whined pitifully.

“No way!” The kitten immediately hugged him tight, making a solemn vow: “No matter what Xun turns into, Li Ao will keep raising you!”

Kitten Street’s Big Yellow had only been abandoned by humans because it grew too big. Li Ao wouldn’t abandon his own little pup, no matter what—once raised, he was responsible.

That early morning, he made all sorts of promises to the little black dragon feigning weakness, until the robot sent to pick up the cat stuffed him into the bathroom. Even while brushing his teeth, he was still mumbling incoherently, saying it looked good like this—sure, a bit hard, but he wouldn’t mind.

Silver Wing watched the dragon head clinging bonelessly to the cat’s chest, its optic rolling upward as it shoved the toothbrush into the dragon’s mouth: “Hurry it up. You’ll be late for school.”

All of Delphi accepted the matter with unusual calm. Xenoid or dragon, as long as it obeyed the kitten, it was good.

“Should we register him in the household registry?” Even a minister asked the Monarch.

Isiris raised a brow, not immediately replying.

“If you put it that way… in this form, does he count as a Delphi… citizen?”

It was truly hard to define, and everyone whispered discussions right in front of the Monarch.

After a sleepless night, Isiris still looked dazzling. Leaning back against the throne forged from Crystal of Delphi, he said faintly: “Table that for now. The urgent matter is dealing with the evolved Xenoid Variants.”

Don’t let his early return fool you—the dangers involved were known only to those who’d fought on the front lines.

The deep scar running down from his chest: the thing capable of leaving a mark on the Monarch, its strength was self-evident.

The rescued Third Legion Commander stepped forward: “It was my negligence this time.” This was an elder who had fought side-by-side with the previous king in countless battles.

He lowered his head slightly, paused in silence for a moment, then spoke: “During the support for the human front lines, I received a signal from His Majesty Chris.”

Chris Regalis was Isiris’s father, the former Monarch of Delphi.

He had died on the battlefield, his body lost.

Without the precedent of Zane dying and being resurrected, the Third Legion Commander wouldn’t have acted so impulsively by charging into the fallen zone. But Zane had come back—what if His Majesty Chris hadn’t actually died?

As long as there was a sliver of hope, he had to seize it. As for why he hadn’t contacted the homeland before acting on his own? Naturally, he didn’t want to… give the Monarch false hope.

He had watched Isiris grow up, watched him bear too much for this land. If that signal really came from the old Monarch, it would undoubtedly be the best news. But if it was just baseless rumor, a scheme, then he couldn’t let that child suffer another disappointment.

“Your Majesty, it was my misjudgment. Please punish me,” the elder said, dropping to one knee and lowering his head of silver hair.

“Recommend a suitable successor. You’re relieved of duty,” Isiris ordered.

This couldn’t even be called punishment. At the Third Legion Commander’s age, he should have retired long ago and joined the old soldiers in tending fields.

“Yes.” The Third Legion Commander stood up upon receiving orders. Isiris’s voice was slightly cold: “That signal originated from a xenoid variant. Its predecessor was likely an A-Rank xenoid, capable of perfectly imitating the voices of the creatures it had devoured—even replicating their emotions and pain—to lure enemies closer.”

After being corrupted into a xenoid variant, its abilities had grown even stronger. It could even extract memories from the brains of human corpses.

What his father had gone through went without saying.

Isiris’s golden pupils were hidden beneath his lowered lashes. In the midst of this sorrowful silence, he spoke calmly: “There are no shortage of evolving xenoids on the frontlines. I’ve already reached some agreements with the Federation and will dispatch ten legions to support the Abyss Frontline. The date will be set after the little cat’s birthday.”

“Yes!”

July had only just begun, and Delphi was already decked out. The streets and alleys were strung with “Happy Birthday” lights, shops lined with colorful balloons and ribbons that swayed in the breeze.

This was Li Ao’s first birthday in Delphi. From this year onward, every time summer entered July, Delphi would repeat the same ritual: dedicating the most romantic and gentle moments of the entire summer to one person.

The kindergarten was teaching songs that afternoon.

Twenty or so kids sat in a circle around the playground, taking turns stepping to the center to show their results.

These children were exceptionally precocious for their age, both mentally and physically. That meant they half-assed these activities, walking up like machines, mumbling a few lines in a flat tone, then shuffling off.

Yang Liuyi rubbed her forehead inwardly, but outwardly clapped enthusiastically, smiling praises at the solemn-faced, not-at-all-kid-like kids: “That was great! Everyone, give it up!”

Amid the sparse applause, only one stood out.

The little cat’s paw pads were soft and plump, barely making a sound when clapped together, but hey, joining in the fun, right? His blue eyes sparkled as his short paws clapped diligently.

The originally half-hearted kids flushed red, scratched their heads, and hurried back to their seats.

Finally, it was Li Ao’s turn. The little guy perked up his tail and walked to the microphone.

Yang Liuyi glanced at the twenty or so kids who were suddenly fired up, eyes gleaming, and smiled as she lowered the mic to its shortest height.

The little cat stood tall, bowed to everyone, and before he even started singing, applause erupted. He hugged the microphone with both paws and tentatively let out a soft “meow.”

Yang Liuyi swept another glance at the group of kids excited to the point of red faces, and even the adults gathered eagerly outside the playground fence, all staring with wide eyes on the verge of fainting.

“…” She fell silent for three seconds. Even after working here for a while, she still got overwhelmed by the otaku vibes from these humans big and small.

Buoyed by the enthusiasm, the little cat puffed out his chest, raised his head, and belted out:

“

Summer, oh~

Watermelons round and sweet,

Orange soda bubbling away,

Little cat drinks and meows away~

Summer, oh~

Big blue sea with crashing waves,

Fan swaying, cicadas droning on,

Little cat sleeps and snores away~

“

So what if he was off-key?

Summer was passionate, blazing with light.

The little cat’s soft, tender song echoed in Yang Liuyi’s ears. She clapped along, keeping the beat and singing with him.

She had experienced many, many summers, but none had ever made her want to smile like this one.

Applause thundered. Li Ao’s paws were sweaty as he let go of the mic, bowed, and stepped down.

After school, parents swarmed to pick up their kids. Li Ao, holding the little coal ball-shaped Xun by his teacher’s leg, craned his neck to look outside.

“Who’s picking us up today?” he whispered to Xun.

Before he finished whispering, someone stepped out of a car.

Familiar black hair, purple eyes, but a different face. This face was stunningly beautiful, yet his superior height and build made him not the least bit effeminate—he was handsome beyond mortal bounds.

The little cat was stunned, mouth agape, head tilted back as the man approached.

“Hello, I’m here to pick up Highness after school.”

Yang Liuyi was also stunned. How could anyone stay unmoved by such peerless beauty?

“Ah…” she responded flatly, then with rising tone “Ah!”, before finally reacting and nodding haphazardly: “Oh, oh, sure.”

The last time she’d been speechless was with that golden-haired monarch. But the two were completely different—one an unapproachable handsomeness, the other a spring-breeze beauty. Naturally, the latter was easier to appreciate.

Li Ao still hadn’t snapped out of it. He sniffed the air and finally said dumbly: “Queque?”

Shen Que crouched down, took the little cat’s and Xun’s backpacks, then smiled and scooped them both into his arms: “Yes, Highness.”

“Why’d you change?” The little cat stepped on his chest, paw reaching for his face, utterly baffled.

Shen Que had always shown a disguised face. But after entering the Abyss fall zone and suffering radiation corrosion, his mask had been badly damaged and was still under repair. For now, he had to walk among people with his true face.

After hearing the explanation, the little cat finally retracted his paw and asked: “Why wear a mask?”

Because this face had brought him endless calamity in the past.

Shen Que wanted to change the subject, but the little cat got serious and wasn’t easy to fool: “Did someone bully you?”

He’d watched a lot of TV and seen plenty of pretty brothers and sisters bullied by bad guys for their looks.

Shen Que hadn’t expected such a young child to be so perceptive.

His fur was golden-brown, with a perfect white blaze marking an eight on his face, pink nose, blue eyes, and two deep brown vertical stripes above his eyes that made him look stern when he pulled a serious face: “Don’t be scared, Li Ao can protect you!”

He flashed his snow-white claws: “If anyone bullies you, I’ll scratch ’em!” He scooped up his little dog and raised him: “Let Xun burn ’em!” He pointed at the moon: “Let Little Blue and Little Logic scare ’em!”

He patted his chest: “Don’t be scared, Fierce Cat’s got you!”

Shen Que’s first instinct was to laugh, but before he could speak, the cat continued: “Being pretty isn’t your fault! It’s those bad guys’ fault—they’re bad, it has nothing to do with how you look.”

He wasn’t great at big speeches, so he repeated himself to make his point.

But those words calmed Shen Que’s turbulent heart.

Because of this face, his father had treated him like merchandise, and he’d been swept by countless lecherous gazes. Even his mother had lamented in grief: “If only you weren’t born so good-looking. This face of yours is the original sin. What’s a man need to be this pretty for?”

“Guard your face well. Once I find a suitable marriage alliance, you can fulfill your value.”

He’d wanted to scar his face, but he didn’t even have that right.

How long had he lived in the darkness? He’d forgotten.

He’d thought Fitt was the same as him. They were brothers, both appraised for their tradeable beauty. But that was his delusion. Fitt had shoved him out, putting him on the table in his place.

But perhaps he should thank Fitt. It was because of the betrayal that, before fully plummeting into darkness, he’d seen the light.

His life had begun when he met the sun.

The little guy in his arms was still chattering on, even dragging the little coal ball into it, babbling nonstop to tell him not to be afraid.

At first, to Shen Que, he was just the monarch’s child. Then, he became the one who could save the monarch. Later, he became… himself.

He was the world’s one-and-only little cat.

“You were handsome before, but you’re even handsomer now!” the little cat said. “Be whatever you like, don’t disguise for others!”

“Okay.” Shen Que’s eyes curved, his violet eyes smiling gently: “Got it.”

He already had the strength to walk the world openly. All he lacked was the courage to face it head-on.

And now, a chatty little cat had given him that confidence.