By the time Chu Zihang arrived at the ancient Mayan pyramid complex, the surrounding jungle had been transformed into a formidable military base. A web of security cordons radiated outwards from the central pyramid, and the grounds swarmed with Cassel College personnel moving with the disciplined urgency of a hornet's nest preparing for war. Humvees were parked in neat rows, generators hummed, and temporary canvas tents dotted the landscape.
"Is this level of mobilization… typical?" Chu Zihang asked, his analytical gaze sweeping over the impressive logistical footprint.
"Whoa, junior! Did you just ask a question?" Finger exclaimed, his face lighting up with genuine delight at this rare crack in his roommate's stoic veneer. Seeing Chu Zihang's expression immediately revert to its default icy glare, Finger cleared his throat and switched into his familiar role as a walking encyclopedia.
"Normally, no. A standard dragon discovery wouldn't warrant this much firepower," he explained. "But this isn't standard. We're dealing with a confirmed second-generation dragon. In all my years here, this is the highest-level threat the academy has ever knowingly engaged. Plus, the site isn't in some godforsaken deep-sea trench or frozen wasteland. It's right here in the United States' backyard, which means we can bring a lot more resources to bear."
Chu Zihang absorbed the tactical breakdown with a curt nod.
Across the encampment, the field operations commander spotted Principal Anjou's arrival and hurried over, his face grim.
"Principal Anjou, sir. We've confirmed the target is a second-generation specimen, as suspected. Operational codename is 'Ladon,'" he reported crisply. "Archaeological evidence suggests he was a direct follower of the Bronze and Fire King, Norton. Our intelligence indicates Ladon is in deep hibernation about three hundred meters below the pyramid's foundation. Without external stimuli, we project he would naturally reawaken within six months."
"Understood. Direct all non-essential personnel to evacuate the immediate area. My team will take it from here," Anjou commanded, his voice calm and steady as he clasped his weathered hands behind his back.
"Yes, sir!"
The commander relayed the orders, and the bustling camp began to methodically empty itself. Within minutes, only the elite team that had traveled from Cassel remained within the operational perimeter.
As they set up their own command post, Professor Schneider approached the principal, his voice a low, mechanical hum of concern. "Principal, are you entirely confident in this… 'Ultraman'?"
"Confidence is a luxury, Schneider. This operation is an imperative," Anjou replied thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on two massive, tarp-covered containers that had been airlifted to the site. "Even if our contractor fails, we have brought more than enough firepower to finish the job ourselves."
These were the same mysterious objects Chu Zihang had seen on the C-5 Galaxy—the academy's ultimate dragon-slaying insurance policy.
The next morning, Chu Zihang awoke to an ominous, slate-gray sky. Heavy storm clouds were gathering, promising a deluge. Needing to attend to a personal matter, he slipped away into the dense jungle bordering the camp. Just as he found a suitably private spot, the air in front of him began to shimmer. The Gate of All Worlds materialized between the trees, and Gustave stepped through.
"Morning, my friend!" Gustave called out cheerfully.
The sudden greeting startled Chu Zihang so profoundly he nearly jumped out of his boots—a particularly awkward reaction, given that his hand was already on the zipper of his pants.
Gustave's cheerful grin faltered as he took in Chu Zihang's frozen, helpless expression. A wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over him.
"My deepest apologies! Please, uh… carry on," he stammered, before executing a hasty retreat without a backward glance, granting his friend the privacy he so desperately needed.
Back at the camp, operations were at their peak. The two massive containers had been opened, revealing sophisticated weapon systems that defied easy description. Specialists from the equipment department, clad in protective gear, were methodically assembling the arcane machinery.
"Good morning, everyone! Trust you all had a satisfying breakfast?"
The voice came from above. Gustave, now wearing his distinctive Belia Ultraman mask, hovered in the air over the camp. His dramatic entrance sent a ripple of shock through the personnel below. Principal Anjou, however, recovered his composure in an instant.
"We are just preparing our meal now, Mr. Ultraman. Would you care to join us?"
"A generous offer, but I've already eaten," Gustave replied politely. "I believe, however, that the fellow sleeping underground hasn't had a decent meal in a few thousand years."
From his vantage point, Gustave could already sense the dormant life force of Ladon deep beneath the earth, a faint but powerful thrumming in his Observation Haki.
"You can already detect the target's location?" Anjou asked, his voice tinged with genuine surprise and a newfound respect.
"Naturally," Gustave said with a confident chuckle. "If I couldn't even find the thing I was hired to kill, I'd have no business making deals with a man of your caliber, Principal. I am, above all, a professional."
"And what is your intended approach, Mr. Ultraman? Do you require our assistance?" Anjou inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"I would appreciate it if you could move all this sensitive and no-doubt expensive equipment to a safe distance," Gustave replied with a casual shrug. "I'd hate for it to get damaged when the real fight begins. We agreed on six hundred million, non-negotiable. I'm certainly not covering the replacement cost for your toys."
"As long as the dragon is eliminated, all other considerations are secondary," Anjou declared without hesitation. "We will begin moving immediately."
Though he had no idea how Gustave planned to slay a second-generation dragon, the principal immediately ordered all Cassel personnel to pack up their equipment and withdraw to a new perimeter five kilometers away.
When Chu Zihang returned from the forest, he found the entire expedition in full retreat. He glanced at the threatening storm clouds overhead before joining the withdrawal.
Once Anjou confirmed that all personnel were clear, Gustave descended gracefully to the ground. He knelt, placed his right hand firmly against the ancient, moss-covered earth, and began to channel the storm brewing within his own body. Arcs of raw lightning crackled between his fingers, preparing to deliver a rude awakening to the ancient terror sleeping below.
Ladon, loyal bodyguard to the Dragon King Norton, was a legend. Among the countless dragons serving the Lords of Bronze and Fire, he was second in power only to the two kings themselves.
During the great rebellion against the Black King Nidhogg, it was Ladon who had charged first, the vanguard of Norton's fury, the first to assault the supreme ruler's fortress-palace.
The moment he laid eyes on Nidhogg, his body and soul had trembled. An overwhelming, primal instinct to submit flooded his very being, threatening to paralyze him. But he was Norton's most trusted warrior. With a surge of will that defied his own bloodline, he had launched his attack.
Nidhogg had barely exerted himself. A single, almost casual swipe of a claw had shattered Ladon's body and sent him spiraling into unconsciousness. He never learned who struck the final blow. All he remembered was waking to the sight of Nidhogg's colossal corpse draped over his own throne—a mountain peak of eternal ice. The Black King's blood stained the world crimson. The four victorious Dragon Kings bathed in it, their triumphant roars heralding a new era.
For his bravery, Norton had rewarded Ladon generously. He became the vanguard of the new age, fighting wars across continents against dragons, humans, and their hybrid children. But the centuries of war took their toll. During a vicious assassination attempt by human insurgents, he sustained injuries even more grievous than those from Nidhogg's claw.
Refusing to abandon his most loyal servant, Norton had personally carried him to this secluded place and sealed him in a regenerative cocoon. Ladon had finished healing over a century ago, emerging stronger than ever. But without his king's summons, he was bound to his slumber, patiently awaiting the call to war once more.
But today, it was not Norton's call that came. It was a violent, external power, a crackle of pure energy that jolted him from his centuries-long slumber with agonizing force.