The pride of cat girls appeared to be in a state of near panic, their anxious gazes darting about as they huddled together, uncertain how to handle the bizarre spectacle before them. Meanwhile, Asah, still in her half-lioness form, clung to me with feverish affection—her purring resonating so loudly, I swore my chest vibrated with every rumble. Each time I patted her head or scratched around her ears, her grip tightened, and she shivered with delight like a housecat cooing under a sunbeam. The onlookers—some of whom had started to slip away—now lingered on the edges of the circle, equally awed and worried.

Suddenly, a striking figure emerged from the throng: a woman of regal bearing, her ebony skin complemented by a lustrous gold-and-silk gown, her face half-hidden under a fine cloak. She radiated an aura of confidence, gliding forward with a royal grace. "My, wasn't that quite the show," she said, her tone laced with amused irony. "And with a surprise twist at the end—I'm so pleased I got to witness it."

Elder Midnight's eyes widened in apparent relief at this newcomer's arrival—though the other cat girls looked even more rattled. "Medarda? Spirits above, what in the name of our ancestors are you doing here?" the Elder demanded, impatience and wariness thick in her voice.

The dark-skinned woman lifted her chin. "Why, enjoying Yuletide, of course," she answered smoothly, as though it was perfectly normal to stroll into a chaotic bar. "It's not every day I happen upon my old friend and her protégé locked in a drinking contest, of all things. I simply had to observe."

Elder Midnight, clearly torn between exasperation and hope, exhaled sharply. "Medarda, stop toying around. You're one of the few with the power to fix this…to extract Asah's spirit essences before it's too late."

Medarda, covering her lips with the back of her hand, feigned dismay. "You'd have me deprive dear Asah of her chance at genuine romance—and, more importantly, spare her from the consequences of her own folly?" She looked at the purring catgirl eyes alight with mirth. She took a dainty step forward, her gaze sliding slyly to me. "Or is it that you'd like to keep this delicious young man all to yourself, Elder?" she teased, voice dripping with playful mockery.

"Medarda," the Elder hissed, as if the woman's name was a proper curse. Anxiety flickered across her features. Meanwhile, Asah stirred in my arms, letting out a half-contented snarl, her hold on me tightening yet again.

Medarda gave a short, musical laugh. "No need to bristle so. I'm simply having a bit of fun," she said lightly. "We're not in any immediate rush—Mr. 'Just John' here is a most unusually wonderful man, and we have time to sort out the details."

Elder Midnight's skeptical glance at Medarda made it clear she wasn't entirely comforted. Even so, she offered a wary nod, as if resigning herself to the woman's involvement.

"Then first things first," Medarda continued, turning her attention toward the bar. "I need…privacy. I'll need the establishment closed off for the rest of the night."

Strom, who had been watching from near the beer taps, marched forward. "Listen here, Lady. I run a business, and I can't just shut down whenever someone demands it," he barked, crossing his arms over his stout torso. "I've wages to cover, customers to serve—"

Before he could say more, Medarda flicked her wrist, and a velvet pouch appeared in midair before dropping into Strom's hands. He caught it, startled, and peered inside. His jaw fell open. Mana crystals—dozens of them—glittered within, worth far more than any night's earnings could provide, and likely exceeding the cost of King Victor's entire bar multiple times over.

"You heard the lady," Krenk announced gleefully, taking a long puff on his pipe. "We're closing up, folks. Everybody out!"

Strom, still gaping at the bag of crystals, shook himself to his senses. "Ahem… Right then, you lazy louts, off with you!" he roared, channeling his usual dwarven bluster. "We're closing for…private business. Everyone out, now!"

A flurry of complaints and disappointed murmurs ensued, but the bag of crystals had apparently sealed the deal. Patrons—some reluctant, some downright curious—shuffled out, casting final glances at me, Asah, and Medarda. Within a few minutes, the once-bustling bar was nearly empty, except for Strom, Krenk, Dagna, the cat girls, Elder Midnight, and Medarda herself.

Asah continued to purr and rub against me, her powerful lioness body practically melting into my side, oblivious to the awkward hush that had fallen over the bar. My mind churned with uncertainty: was I supposed to push her away? Keep petting her? The onlookers had long since scattered, leaving only a core group—Strom, Krenk, Dagna, Elder Midnight, Asah's fellow cat girls, and now this mysterious newcomer named Medarda. The latter seemed entirely at ease, regarding us with a mildly amused, distinctly confident smile.

Medarda let out a soft laugh that somehow carried an air of regal condescension, her attention sliding from me to Asah and back again. "This simply will not do," she declared, her polished tone resonating throughout the room. "We cannot have a conversation of this magnitude while you remain so…impaired." With a casual flick of her wrist, a tiny vial materialized in the air before me—a swirling rainbow liquid housed in a vessel no larger than a teardrop. "A Phoenix Tear," she explained, her tone light but her eyes keen. "It should purge the traces of alcohol and catnip from your system."

I stared at the vial in utter disbelief, my heart skipping a beat. Phoenix Tears were the stuff of legends—exceedingly rare, unbelievably expensive. I'd heard rumors they could cure almost any malady, but to use one to clean up simple inebriation felt like an almost absurd waste of money. "Who…who exactly are you?" I managed to ask, torn between gratitude and skepticism. My words came out rough, throat parched from hours of potent liquor.

"You don't recognize me?" she asked, one brow arching with amused curiosity. "Well, I suppose that's hardly surprising. My human form doesn't inspire much recognition. Most people are more familiar with my true froms." And as she spoke, a soft glow began to pulse around her.

I watched in growing astonishment as her figure was enveloped in a coruscating haze of golden light. It fanned out like miniature sunbeams wrapping her entire silhouette, and when it receded, she had changed drastically. Standing there was a draconic hybrid—a being who radiated raw power and archaic majesty. She now bore four immense, gleaming horns that curved in graceful arcs from her head; elongated ears with a fine, downy covering; and dark skin patterned with gold, feather-like scales that glimmered beneath the bar's lamplight. In her mouth, I glimpsed sharp fangs, and her eyes glowed with a regal, predatory gleam.

My pulse thundered as recognition struck me with brutal force. Medarda the Golden Dragonthe wealthiest person to ever live. I'd seen images in passing, read the occasional snippet, but never had I imagined encountering her in the flesh.Here she was, calmly offering me a Phoenix Tear vial as if it were no more than a flask of water.

"You…you're Medarda," I breathed, fighting to steady my voice. Next to me, Asah's purring faltered momentarily, as if she sensed the shift in atmosphere. Even the Elder looked visibly relieved yet deeply wary at this further display of Medarda's power.

"Yes. Medarda the Golden, the youngest if one insists on formality," she said, smiling in a manner that was both disarmingly gracious and completely self-assured. Her dragon-hybrid form towered over the rest of us—easily surpassing even Asah in terms of sheer presence. "I hope you'll forgive the intrusion. I was rather bored this evening and found myself drawn by my nose to find more stimulating rewards. And, well, fate led me to this…dramatic display." Her gaze drifted to the cat girls, then to the Elder, who looked torn between deference and tension. She waved a hand at the swirling rainbow liquid still bobbing in midair. "Consider this an act of courtesy—for the time being."

Strom exchanged a wide-eyed look with Krenk. Neither seemed entirely certain whether to protest or grovel. Meanwhile, I still felt Asah's weight against me, her furred cheek pressed to my shoulder, purring softly despite the faint tremors of catnip-induced aftershocks. The Elder carefully cleared her throat, trying to regain some measure of authority.

"Medarda, this is no minor inconvenience," Elder Midnight began, her tone respectful but tinged with urgency. "Asah may have started a claim—her spirit mana might have fused with this man. We require immediate intervention before any permanent bond forms." She gestured at Asah's persistent, affectionate clinging, her words falling somewhere between a plea and a demand.

Medarda's golden eyes flicked to me, then down to Asah's contented expression. "Indeed, it does appear she's begun the bond," Medarda noted, her voice thoughtful. "An unfortunate complication, especially if it isn't mutual." Then she leaned in and gently brushed a scaled fingertip over Asah's mane, as if testing the cat girl's reaction. Asah responded with a deeper purr, but she didn't cling to Medarda the way she did to me. "She's enthralled by her own reflection's instincts," Medarda mused softly.

The Elder gave a sharp nod, exhaling. "Precisely. So please, do what you must. Extract the spirit mana or otherwise undo this fiasco." Her tone nearly cracked with anxiety, as though every second that passed made the situation more perilous. Around us, the cat girls hovered, ears perked, their eyes brimming with concern.

Medarda regarded the Elder with a mild smile. "You worry too much, Midnight," she teased, returning her attention to me. "But fine. Let's handle the simpler matter first. John, I suggest you accept the Phoenix Tear. It should lift the haze from your mind and body."

I glanced at the flickering rainbow droplet, still suspended like a crystallized droplet of oil in the air. My entire being screamed at the extravagance of using such a legendary substance just to sober up—and possibly shield me from an accidental lifebonding. But what choice did I have? If the bond was as permanent and life-altering as they'd implied, I needed every edge I could get.

Taking a slow, steady breath, I reached out. The droplet settled onto my palm, its texture cool and slightly viscous. I let it slip between my lips. A rush of tingling heat spread through my throat, like swallowing a spark. The effect was instantaneous: the fog in my head evaporated, my heartbeat steadied, and even the lingering burn of potent liquors subsided to a mere memory. I blinked, feeling a clarity return to my senses. Asah's weight against me suddenly felt more distinct, her purrs sharper on my ears.

"Better?" Medarda asked politely, tilting her head in mild curiosity.

I nodded, ignoring the strange fizzing sensation that lingered in my chest. "Much," I admitted, amazed at how my body felt simultaneously lighter and more grounded.

"Excellent," Medarda murmured, returning her gaze to Elder Midnight. "Now, with our man out of immediate danger of further intoxication, we can discuss the delicate matter of unraveling a cat girl's half-finished claim. If that is indeed the path you wish to take."

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The Elder's jaw tightened, and she offered a quick glance at Asah, who continued to cling to me. "It is. Time is of the essence. If her spirit mana fully latches on, it would be a disaster."

As if sensing her name in the discussion, Asah lifted her chin, blinking at me with a half-lidded stare. "You smell so good," she said again, though the words held a slightly dreamy quality. Medarda smiled, hunger in her eyes, "That he certainly does, little lioness."

"All right, my dear champion," Medarda cooed, stepping closer. "Let's see what we can do about that pesky, bond." With a deliberate motion, she raised her scaled hand, and faint arcs of golden mana rippled around her claws. The sight elicited a collective gulp from the clan—none of them missed the significance of a Dragon's raw power.

I felt my nerves spike again. The notion of having someone "unravel" or "extract" spirit mana from me was…unsettling, to say the least. But I trusted this route more than letting an accidental bond define the rest of my existence. Elder Midnight gave me a curt, sympathetic nod, as if to say, It's for the best. Krenk and Dagna watched with wide eyes, clearly enthralled by the display of high-level magic.

"John," Medarda said, her golden gaze locking onto mine. "Stand very still. We'll need your cooperation—not physically, but mentally. Keep your mind calm. Don't fight the sensation." She rested one claw-tipped hand on my shoulder and held the other palm over Asah's brow. Asah stiffened, her ears flattening slightly, but she didn't resist.

I steadied my breathing, nodding once. "Do whatever you must," I managed, swallowing a tight lump in my throat.

The glowing threads of mana danced through the air like strands of liquid gold, wrapping around us in a gentle cocoon. Medarda's movements were precise, her fingers tracing patterns that left faint ripples in the golden glow. Each motion felt deliberate, as though she were weaving an intricate tapestry of light and power. The atmosphere grew heavy, charged with the hum of raw magical energy.

Asah let out another soft whimper, her tail twitching as she instinctively clung tighter to me. I could feel her warmth radiating against my side, her purring now reduced to faint vibrations. The pull of her spirit mana, though subtle, was unmistakable. It was like a magnetic force, trying to tether itself to me even as Medarda worked to unravel it.

"You're doing well," Medarda murmured, her voice low and soothing. "Keep your mind clear, John. Any resistance could complicate the process."

I nodded, focusing on steadying my breath. Despite my outward calm, my nerves were frayed. The sensation of the mana threads brushing against my consciousness was disconcerting—a strange blend of warmth and pressure that made it hard to ignore the vulnerability of the moment. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I forced myself to relax, trusting in Medarda's skill.

Asah's breathing grew shallower, her head tilting back slightly as the golden threads began to shift around her. "No…" she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "Don't take it away…"

Medarda's lips curved into a small, sad smile. "Hush, little lioness. You'll thank me later. Bonds made in haste rarely lead to happiness."

Elder Midnight stepped closer, her expression a mask of tension. "Is it working? Can you separate them?"

"Patience," Medarda replied, her tone carrying an edge of sharp authority. "This is delicate work. A single misstep could have…undesirable consequences."

That didn't do much to settle my nerves, but I kept my gaze locked on Medarda, trusting her steady hands and confident demeanor. The golden threads began to tighten, drawing closer to Asah and me as they wove into an intricate lattice. I felt another gentle tug, this time accompanied by a faint ache in my chest—a dull, pulling sensation that sent a shiver down my spine.

Asah let out a low growl, her claws flexing slightly as if to resist. Medarda's hand on her brow pressed down with a little more force, and the growl softened into a plaintive whine. "There, there," Medarda cooed. "I know it's uncomfortable, but this is for your own good."

The golden mana began to shimmer more brightly, the threads unraveling in slow, deliberate waves. With each unraveling strand, I felt the pull on my mind ease slightly, like a knot being carefully loosened. Asah's body trembled against mine, her grip slackening little by little. The bond wasn't gone yet, but it was weakening, the connection fraying under Medarda's careful ministrations.

"You're almost there," Medarda said, her voice steady. "Just a little longer."

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the magic and Asah's soft, uneven breathing. The other cat girls watched with wide eyes, their ears pinned back in unease. Even Elder Midnight seemed to hold her breath, her sharp gaze flicking between Medarda and me.

Medarda drew in a steady breath, her brow furrowing with intense concentration as she closed her eyes. A series of faint flickers began to dance between her outstretched palms—soft, luminescent threads of mana coalescing until they formed a delicate, swirling lattice. The strands shimmered in the dim light, extending outward and encircling Asah and me in a gossamer web. Even before I felt the full weight of the magic, there was a slight pull at the edges of my consciousness—a sensation like curious fingers brushing through my thoughts, delicate but insistent.

Gradually, the magic drew something from within us, as if coaxing a dormant thread of connection into the light. I felt my heart flutter in response, part anticipation and part unease, uncertain of what revelation might follow. The air itself seemed charged with possibility, crackling with the promise of unspoken truths yet to be discovered. Medarda's breathing turned shallow, her focus unwavering even as a thin sheen of sweat gathered at her temple.

Several minutes trickled by, each one humming with an almost tangible tension. Finally, Medarda released a long, measured exhale. Her eyes snapped open, revealing a mix of frustration and exhilaration flickering across her features. Allowing her hands to sink slowly to her sides, she surveyed Asah and me with a look that was equal parts disbelief and fascination.

Medarda exhaled softly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of both relief and lingering unease. "Well," she began, her tone quivering just enough to betray her tension, "that was certainly unexpected. I managed to isolate her spirit mana, so for the time being, the bonding has been halted." She cast a measured gaze across the room, as though anticipating a flood of questions.

Elder Midnight, her brow deeply furrowed, stepped forward with anxious resolve. "What do you mean by halted?" She asked, her voice clipped with impatience. "Can't you fix it?" Despite her attempt at composure, concern bled through in every syllable, and her dark eyes flickered with an urgent need for answers.

Medarda drew in a long, slow breath, as though preparing to deliver unwelcome news. "There's an unexpected complication," she explained, her words heavy with implication. "I'll need to address this matter with John—alone." She paused, allowing the gravity of her request to settle over everyone. "So, if you don't mind," she added quietly, "I'd like the rest of you to give us a moment."

A ripple of hesitation passed through the group, but Medarda's insistence was not to be ignored. Slowly and reluctantly, they began to file out. Elder Midnight, whose shoulders remained rigid with lingering doubts, cast a final glance back at me before vanishing through the doorway. All except Asah. Who still clung to me as if her life depended on it.

Once the others had gone, a hush fell over the chamber. Medarda turned her full attention on me, her golden eyes appearing even more luminous under the waning light. "John," she said softly, her voice steady yet laden with concern, "is your core dormant?" The weight of her question hung in the air, sharp and insistent, as if the answer itself might unravel a secret long kept hidden.

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Mod Deleted Post on QuestingAdventures Forum The Crystal Dragon's Hidden Bloodline Posted by TruthSeeker8008 Banned.

Alright, fellow truth-seekers, buckle up hard because I'm diving headfirst into the unholy pit of secrets the Dragon Dominions DO NOT want us to see! Everyone's heard the same stale rumors—ancient Crystal Dragon, had a horde of children, half the noble families claim his blood. Blah, blah, blah. Only the Pendragons supposedly have ironclad proof of a direct line. Yawn. That's the tame part.

WELL, GET THIS:

It is confirmed the Crystal Dragon fathered twelve daughtersand yes, I said only daughters with other dragons. They're the only ones to survive that apocalyptic meltdown known as "the Fall," when nearly every other draconic beast lost its mind and went feral. But guess what? This conspiracy is thicker than a minotaur's hide!

Because here's where stuff gets truly insane: those twelve daughters uncovered a freakish method to reproduce without a single scale of male assistance some perverse brand of parthenogenesis. I've heard everything from demon-blood rituals and clandestine deals with unspeakable horrors, to twisted alchemical forging. No one and I mean NO ONE has a straight answer. But they made it work. And since that day, each daughter spat out exactly one new daughter, forming a single-file line of ruling draconic tyrants that STILL lord over the Dominions.

Now skip ahead to our lovely modern era: the Great Dying Wars nearly obliterated this delicate female lineage. And we're stuck with ONE surviving daughter: Medarda. That's right—everything rides on her scaly shoulders. And here's the kicker: she can't perform the magical parthenogenesis act. Zip. Nada. The rumor says the Dominion is in full-blown panic mode, trying to find any way for the dragonoids to dodge total extinction from the mass suicides that would follow the death of the last dragon.

But why is this so urgent right now? Why do the Dragons suddenly need so many "donations" from our archives? Why is Medarda gathering the biggest hoard ever created? Why have half the realm's great houses "mysteriously" lost their eligible male sons to "accidents" or "disappearances"? Are the Dragons snatching men for some monstrous breeding experiment? Are the High Elves in on it, feeding them captive for their own gain?

And to top it off, why is our so-called "government" sweeping this entire fiasco under the biggest rug imaginable? How is any of this not front-page news on every paper in the city?

We're teetering on a knife's edge, folks. If something doesn't break soon if we don't blow this entire Dragon Dominion conspiracy wide open we could be looking at a second Fall that might make the first look like a dinner party. We either end up shackled under unstoppable draconic overlords, or everything just goes boom.

So do yourselves a favor: Keep your eyes peeled. Don't trust any shady noble claiming "Crystal Dragon ancestry". The next few months could decide if we end up slaves or extinct. No one's telling us the truth, so we have to rip it out ourselves!