"You..." Norton started, then fell silent.
The memories awakened by Morin told him that dragon totems had existed in China since ancient times. He had always believed they were merely records of snakes mutated by dragon blood.
But now, reality was standing in front of him.
Inside his own mental world.
If this were fake... no. Norton was certain it wasn't. The pressure radiating from that physical presence couldn't be fabricated. Even if someone's mental power vastly exceeded his, they couldn't reproduce such an existence without having truly seen it.
So the Oriental Dragon was real?
A wave of absurdity washed over Norton.
If Oriental Dragons existed, where had they been all this time? Why hadn't they appeared during the rise of the Dragon Race or the era of dragon slayers? Why had they allowed European Dragons to settle in China?
And that ancient aura. That crushing pressure.
Was this being a Dragon King?
A king among Oriental Dragons?
Why did he feel even more terrifying than the Black King?
"It seems we can finally talk properly," the dragon said.
Its form shrank. Golden scales vanished, replaced by a human body.
Morin's body.
"I'm curious about your kind," Morin said calmly. "You're not true dragons, yet you call yourselves dragons. You possess bloodline power, but you also have innate flaws. In fact, the stronger the blood, the worse the flaw."
"The Dragon Race is perfect," Norton said coldly, eyes narrowing.
"Addicted to flesh. Losing reason. Driven by slaughter," Morin raised an eyebrow. "Western myths describe you exactly like that. In my eyes, those are defects."
"...You don't have them?" Norton stared at him.
Morin had described their nature with terrifying accuracy. That much couldn't be denied. But the faint contempt in his tone suggested something Norton didn't understand.
Did Oriental Dragons possess the same power without the side effects?
"Of course not," Morin replied. "Since ancient times, Oriental Dragons were worshipped as gods. They accepted offerings and protected humanity. Why would they be mindless killers?"
"Your condition is strange. I'm curious. I want to study it."
"I might even be able to fix it."
If a professor of draconic history were watching, this would be an utterly surreal scene. A species long dismissed as legend was calmly declaring that the 'dragons' studied for centuries were a defective strain.
No one had ever questioned this.
Hybrids accepted dragon violence as a given. Subconsciously, they believed dragons were perfect beings.
Morin didn't see it that way.
Violence had causes. Most creatures lashed out because they felt threatened, because survival demanded it. But dragons sat at the top of the food chain. They shouldn't have that instinct.
Which meant the problem lay in their genes.
If the dragon genome could be altered-or purified-could a sane dragon be created?
Morin had been thinking about this for a long time.
He needed a controlled subject.
Norton was perfect.
And he'd be saving him in the process.
One was a brother-obsessed, neurotic dragon. The other was a loser dragon with a personality similar to Lanny's. Harmless, by dragon standards.
Starting with King-level DNA would give the most accurate results.
Fortunately, Norton couldn't read minds.
Otherwise, he would have tried to kill Morin on the spot.
"Alright. Time's up," Morin said, waving his hand. "If you don't leave now, your brother's going to end up on a lab table. Go."
The telepathic restraint vanished.
Old Tang-no, Norton-felt reality rush back in.
He remained silent.
He didn't want to admit it, but logic told him the truth.
He was powerless against this being.
Against this Oriental Dragon.
"What's your plan?" Norton asked.
"You don't trust me yet," Morin replied. "So stick to your original plan."
He pointed at the phone in Norton's hand.
"When the time comes, you'll know what to choose. If anyone gets in your way while you take your brother, I'll intervene."
"I think you misunderstand something," Norton sneered. "That useless brat's taken so long to wake up that hybrids already stole his cocoon. He's trash."
"I might as well devour him."
"Sure," Morin said calmly, not bothering to argue with the stubborn tsundere dragon. "Now go."
If anything truly happened to Constantine, Norton would be the first one to lose his mind.
"We may be cooperating temporarily," Norton snapped, "but that doesn't give you the right to order me around!"
"Then you're free to stay," Morin replied.
"I'm going!" Norton turned and stormed off.
"Heh..."
Morin chuckled as the water-man dissolved into mist.
An hour away from Cassell, the real Morin sat in a restaurant. Eyes closed. Fingers tapping the table. His phone lay beside him.
He wasn't waiting for Mai.
He was waiting for the school.
This was his alibi.
He had research to do. Scholarships to earn.
And to do that, he needed to create a third-party faction-a villain to stir the waters.
Scamming-
No.
Earning scholarships was Morin's specialty.
His phone vibrated.
Library Control Room.
Schneider was organizing defenses. Manstein and Guderian were... not contributing much.
Cassell's professors were all capable fighters, but compared to the Execution Bureau's head, these two were amateurs at strategy.
Manstein had at least done one thing right. Unable to locate the intruders, he'd contacted his father-the Vice Principal-to lift Spirit: Discipline.
Students could now freely use their Spirits.
Manstein's own Spirit: Serpent was already sweeping the area.
With the S-rank suppression gone, Cassell's students reverted to their true state. Lions with their claws returned. Fangs bared.
The Dragon's Nest was fully active.
"Communication jammer bypassed. S-rank student Morin is connected. Do you wish to speak?" Norma's voice announced.
"Yes."
Schneider's expression hardened.
"Hello?" Morin's voice came through.
"The school is under attack," Schneider said succinctly. "Whoever lured you away likely set a trap. Return immediately. Stay safe."
"It wasn't a trap," Morin replied after a pause. "They just wanted to stall me."
"No wonder I got stood up."
"I'm on my way."
The call ended.
Morin paid, gathered a few napkins with phone numbers scribbled on them, and stepped on the accelerator of the Bugatti.
The board was set.
But a third hand had entered the game.
It was time to move.
Lanny was feeling miserable.
A school invasion was something he'd only seen in movies. Even after witnessing the Day of Liberty, he'd thought that kind of violence was far removed from him.
Now it was happening.
But that wasn't what bothered him most.
When he finally regained his senses, Zero was gone.
Finger was gone too.
Since when did those two learn teleportation?
Lanny cursed quietly, about to bolt, when Caesar called his name.
Every gaze turned.
Caesar clapped his shoulder and laughed.
"Lanny, relax. I know you're eager to defend the school, but leave the planning to those with combat training. Stay with me. With the Student Council here in Valhalla, we're invincible."
Big brother, I'm a freshman.
Didn't you hear the broadcast telling us to hide in the dorms?
Lanny wanted to scream.
But when he saw the looks around him, he stopped.
Relief.
Trust.
He usually only saw that when trash-talking or playing StarCraft.
Now he saw it in a place where bullets mattered.
And so, somehow, he ended up sitting in Valhalla, staring blankly from a sofa.
To everyone else, he looked calm. Like he was waiting for the enemy.
Inside, he was screaming.
How did I get dragged into this?
This has nothing to do with you.
You're just a lucky loser with a fake S-rank.
But he didn't move.
If danger was unavoidable, he might as well keep his dignity.
And if he took down a few intruders...
Maybe he'd earn some pocket money.
Cassell's scholarships were generous.
Lanny smiled faintly, gripping the Desert Eagle Caesar had handed him.
"What's with him? Did he spot us?" someone whispered. "Why is he smiling at me?"
"Quiet. He's just spacing out," Mai whispered back.
Soft music played in Valhalla. They assumed quiet conversation was safe.
A wisp of black mist drifted through the hall. Invisible unless you stared directly into the light.
Patrols passed by.
No one noticed it.
Caesar and Lanny sat opposite each other.
Both smiling.
Mai studied Lanny and decided he was clearly thinking about something else.
But Caesar's smile...
Unreadable.
Did this pampered prince also daydream?
"You found them," Caesar said suddenly, eyes opening. His Golden Pupils flared.
He smiled at Lanny.
As expected of an S-rank.
You didn't disappoint me.
Lanny: "???"
Found what?
What did you find?
"You're here for the scholarship too?" Lanny blurted.
He immediately wanted to slap himself.
"Scholarship..." Caesar paused, then nodded as if something clicked. "I don't care about money. But I'm not letting you take all the credit."
"If you're short on cash..."
"How about a bet?"
"Whoever takes down more intruders wins."
"The loser pays ten thousand dollars."