Under the oppressive gaze of the black dragon, whose golden eyes crackled with lightning and fire, the professor tried to maintain a calm demeanor. However, the weight in the air made it nearly impossible.
"Was this your doing?" the balding professor asked his colleague, his voice strained.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" the other professor, equally unnerved, replied stiffly.
Behind them, a younger assistant, pale-faced and visibly trembling, interjected, "Professors, stop pretending! This isn't one of our dragonblood experiments. This is a real dragon!"
The realization sent a wave of dread through the group. They were researchers, not warriors, and the presence of an actual dragon in their secret lab was a death sentence.
"Calm down," the first professor snapped. "Stay still, don't provoke it, and don't even think about running. Just remain as you are and look at it."
"What good will that do?" the young assistant stammered, his legs shaking so much that he struggled to stay upright.
"It might give us a chance to die with dignity. At least our names might make it into the history books."
"Professor, if we die like this, we'll be remembered as a cautionary tale!"
"That's still better than being forgotten entirely. Most people in the world won't ever have their names recorded in history."
"You're talking about this now?" the second professor shouted in disbelief. "We're facing a dragon, and all you're concerned about is getting into a textbook?"
"What else can we do? It's a dragon."
"Think of a way to save yourselves!"
"Be realistic. Look at its eyes. It's clear this dragon understands everything we're saying. Its intelligence is far beyond ours."
"Not just beyond yours—far beyond the sum of all three of you," Muria finally spoke, his voice resonating with an unearthly authority that seemed to make the air itself quake.
The assistant, already on the verge of collapse, let out a yelp of terror and fell backward onto the floor. He raised a trembling hand to point at the dragon, his face ashen.
"It spoke!"
"Stop acting like an idiot," the first professor said, glaring at his panicked assistant. "Dragons are highly intelligent beings. It's entirely natural for them to speak."
"But this one—"
"I said stop panicking! Show some backbone!"
"Still," the second professor interjected nervously, "You're unlike any dragon described in our research. Most dragons look down on humans and wouldn't deign to speak to us. But you…"
"Me?" Muria said, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. "I'm merely curious about you."
"Then… why are you here?"
"Don't worry," Muria said, his tone light but tinged with a subtle menace. "I was just looking around. I'll leave now."
Despite the tenseness of the situation, Muria was calm. He had already sensed the approach of heavily armed dragon hunters clad in advanced exoskeletons. They were closing in on the secret lab, but he didn't care.
To him, their reaction was predictable. This academy, after all, was not only a training ground for dragon hunters but also a fortress designed to repel dragon invasions.
Before the stunned researchers could respond, Muria's immense form dissolved into swirling currents of air, vanishing as though he had never been there.
A moment later, the rhythmic stomping of boots echoed through the lab as a squad of heavily armed dragon hunters burst onto the scene.
"You're too late!" the balding professor said with a weary sigh.
"Professor, what happened here? Why was the highest alert level triggered?" the lead hunter demanded, his weapon at the ready.
"Because there was a dragon here—a real, living dragon," the professor replied, his voice heavy with disbelief. "Do you understand what that means?"
"That's impossible."
"You think I'd joke about something like this? A dragon was right here, staring us down as if we were nothing more than ants."
The commander fell silent, realizing the gravity of the professor's words. Meanwhile, the professor pulled out his communicator and dialed the academy's headmaster.
"Headmaster," the professor began, his tone sharp.
"Professor Sanchez, if this is about funding, I've already told you there's no more money available for your research this year."
"Shut up about the budget! This isn't about money. This is an emergency!"
"An emergency?" The headmaster's tone shifted, becoming serious. "What happened?"
"A dragon infiltrated the academy, entered our most secure treasure vault, and treated us like fools."
There was a long silence on the other end before the headmaster finally replied, "You're joking. It's not April Fool's Day, Sanchez."
"I'm dead serious! I was ready to die a moment ago!"
"Alright, I'll be back at the academy in three hours."
"Three hours? Where are you, you old fool?"
"Don't forget, I'm a citizen too. I have the right to leave the academy whenever I please."
In the background, a woman's voice could be heard, sultry and teasing.
"You senile old man! You're out flirting again, aren't you?"
"Jealous, Sanchez? Unlike you, I still have charm," the headmaster replied with a smug laugh.
Three Hours Later
The headmaster stormed into the now-empty underground treasure vault, his face contorted with fury.
"Can someone explain to me how this happened?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "A dragon infiltrates our academy, walks into our treasure vault, and eats everything. What were the defenses doing? Taking a nap?"
"Calm down, George," Professor Sanchez said, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he couldn't entirely hide his schadenfreude.
"Calm down? You're telling me to calm down?" George, the headmaster, held up a handful of ash-gray wood splinters.
"This was a branch from the Tree of Life—an artifact of legend! Now it's nothing but waste. That dragon drained every last drop of power from it."
"It's just a piece of wood, George. No one even knows if it was really from the Tree of Life."
"And what about the dragon skeleton?" George shot back. "The remains of the Fire King that we secured seventy years ago? It's gone too. Judging by the traces left behind, the dragon ate it."
"Well… we weren't exactly using it for anything."
"That's not the point! This dragon isn't just robbing us—it's mocking us!"
The headmaster stormed toward the entrance of the vault and pointed at a pile of black scales scattered near the shattered remnants of the bronze doors.
"It left these behind on purpose," he growled. "This isn't over. That dragon will regret coming here!"
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