Wu Shao’s words hung in the air, and a moment of silence settled over the surroundings.
Ming Shuang grew even more bewildered. He glanced once more at Yan Si, but the latter showed no intention of refuting.
As for the name “God Clan,” he had only encountered it once in a book.
The book’s account of the “God Clan” was brief, stating only that they were linked to the birth of the heavenly disaster miasma fog and had long gone extinct.
Ming Shuang had never given much thought to Xuzhi’s race. He had always known only that his master treated him well, seemed almost omnipotent, and deserved his instinctive trust.
Nor did he care about Xuzhi’s race, but Wu Shao’s tone… it didn’t sound good.
Xiang Lun’s expression shifted slightly as well. Only he knew the origin of Xuzhi’s light magic. For various reasons, he had turned a blind eye to it, but he hadn’t anticipated…
That Xuzhi was even more dangerous than he had imagined.
“Little Shuang,” Xiang Lun said tentatively, “come over here to me first.”
Ming Shuang refused at once. “No!”
He also feared Yan Si might strike at Xuzhi again, so he remained firmly planted in front of Xuzhi, shielding him.
Xiang Lun spotted their tightly clasped hands, his brows knitting deeply.
No outsiders were present. Herl stood a short distance away, pondering how best to address the inexplicable vanishing of the miasma fog while pretending he had heard nothing.
Three from the Dragon Clan, one mixed-blood dragon, and a long-vanished member of the God Clan…
If word of this spread, the academy would likely be surrounded on all sides.
Xing Huai seemed uninterested in Xuzhi’s identity as well. She stroked the dragon egg cradled in her arms, gazing thoughtfully at the recovering Blue Sea Lion.
The magical beasts were the quietest of all, stealthily eyeing the group without daring to make a sound.
Ming Shuang tamped down his swirling thoughts and declared, “Big Brother just saved Taro Ball a moment ago—you all saw it. I don’t care about anything else…”
The standoff dragged on for a bit until Yan Si had regained his composure. He clapped a hand on Wu Shao’s shoulder, signaling him to stand down for the moment, then turned to Xiang Lun. “Let’s head back. It’s not safe to stay here long.”
Herl spoke up at the opportune moment. “The Central City’s Miasma-Clearing Team will arrive shortly. I’ll handle the explanation.”
With the miasma fog dissipated just like that, the immediate crisis had passed. There was no longer any need to evacuate the campus; a few days of cautious scouting would suffice to confirm it wouldn’t return anytime soon.
Xiang Lun nodded, his face somber. “Very well. Back to the courtyard.”
Ming Shuang watched the others warily, clutching Xuzhi’s hand tightly as he trailed at the rear.
The magical beasts flanked him protectively. Taro Ball cast a routine barrier into the lake before joining the group.
Once clear of the lake, it shrank its body down and down again until it was even smaller than Coal Ball—a blue oval ball at first glance—curled up in Ming Shuang’s arms.
The area outside the Beast-Taming Forest was deserted.
Along the path, Ming Shuang glanced at Xuzhi beside him and whispered, “Big Brother…”
“It’s nothing,” Xuzhi murmured, lowering his eyes to reassure him. “Don’t worry.”
Nothing showed on his face, as if the earlier events had nothing to do with him at all.
Xuzhi paid no mind to the others. As long as Ming Shuang stayed by his side, there was little cause for concern.
His calm soothed Ming Shuang somewhat. He hugged Taro Ball close, oblivious to the black magic stone clutched in Xuzhi’s other hand.
The undead spirit trapped inside wailed soundlessly, thrashing in torment.
It begged ceaselessly for mercy, insisting it had meant no harm—that it had only offered Xuzhi advice.
Xuzhi ignored it and slipped the magic stone into his storage ring.
Fine.
For Ming Shuang’s sake, he would heal the Blue Sea Lion again if the chance arose.
Meanwhile, at the academy’s distant perimeter wall, an owl perched on a branch just outside. Its eyes, sharpened by Thousand-Mile Vision, scanned the entrance to the Beast-Taming Forest.
It cut a distinctive figure: gray feathers covering its body, black plumes on its tail, and two sharp, upright ear tufts.
The moment a black-haired, black-eyed youth entered its view, the owl lurched, nearly tumbling from the branch.
It righted itself in a hurry and stared in stunned silence. When it made out Xuzhi alongside the three familiar magical beasts nearby, its gaze turned profoundly complicated.
Little Dragon…
~~~
Back at the courtyard, Xiang Lun tried to speak with Ming Shuang alone, but Ming Shuang refused.
He stuck to Xuzhi like a bodyguard and simply shifted back into his Little Dragon Hatchling form, burrowing headfirst into Xuzhi’s jacket and refusing to emerge.
Xiang Lun sighed in resignation and let it go.
In the front hall, Yan Si and Wu Shao sat across from each other. Xing Huai had already retired to her room.
Yan Si studied Xuzhi before asking, “You’ve lost your past memories—including your own race?”
Xuzhi lowered his gaze. “I believed myself to be an ordinary human.”
“Ordinary human,” Xiang Lun echoed with a twitch of his lips.
Could an ordinary human claim others’ innate magical talents as his own?
Yan Si was plainly skeptical. “All this time, and you never noticed anything unusual about yourself?”
Wu Shao snorted. “The God Clan are prodigies by nature. Lumping them in with ordinary humans is absurd.”
“Then enlighten me,” Xuzhi said softly. “What makes me different?”
Ming Shuang was present too. Yan Si fixed Xuzhi with a steady look before elaborating. “The God Clan appear indistinguishable from the Human Race outwardly, yet they can wield multiple innate talents at once.”
With that, he invoked alchemy. A red glow materialized before Xuzhi. “How many do you possess?”
Xuzhi raised his eyes slightly, mulling Yan Si’s words.
Yan Si was convinced of his God Clan heritage, yet ignorant of how he acquired talents.
So what fueled the hostility?
Wu Shao and Xiang Lun both leaned in. Even the Little Dragon Hatchling poked its nose from the jacket, equal parts curious and uneasy.
At last, Xuzhi extended a hand to touch the alchemy array.
The array quivered faintly before bursting into a spectrum of lights. Their heights denoted magical tiers.
Towering highest was the white glow of light magic—top tier.
Followed by 7th-tier earth element, 6th-tier wind system, 5th-tier metal array, 3rd-tier lightning system… and a faint, uncultivated ice innate talent besides.
Xiang Lun’s vision darkened. This little punk! Hiding all that!
Hold on… these talents weren’t all seized the same way as the light magic, were they?
Xiang Lun held his tongue—barely—before calling out again. “Little Shuang, come here to me…”
The Little Dragon Hatchling huffed in refusal, eyes fixed on the hovering alchemy array.
Yan Si soon dismissed it.
“Ming Shuang,” he said, turning to the hatchling nestled in Xuzhi’s arms. “Are you aware of his power… and his origins?”
Ming Shuang pondered, then murmured an “Mm.”
He had always known Xuzhi was formidable, so Xuzhi’s fluctuations in strength—from weakening to surging anew—had never struck him as odd.
His origins? Even before, Ming Shuang had never heard Xuzhi speak of his race.
“He’s dangerous,” Yan Si pressed on. “The God Clan are born warriors, ruthless and cold. A century ago, their internal conflicts brought about their annihilation… and birthed the heavenly disaster miasma fog of today.”
“The heavenly disasters trace back to the God Clan.”
Few knew the miasma fog’s original name: the God Clan’s curse.
Ming Shuang sat stunned, unable to link Xuzhi to that aura of deathly fog.
Xuzhi thought, Just as I suspected.
He had theorized as much, lacking only proof.
Plundering talents bore an eerie resemblance to the miasma fog devouring magic elements.
The hall fell quiet once more before Xiang Lun tried again. “Little Shuang…”
Xuzhi stayed impassive. Should Ming Shuang grow frightened and wish to leave him, he wouldn’t stand in the way… probably not.
The Little Dragon Hatchling remained dazed, craning its head up at Xuzhi.
