After Mira left, Lance turned to look at his tail, hidden behind the stove.
Another accident.
He had soaked in the glacial meltwater all night, and the chill had invaded his body, throwing some of his power off balance. As a result, his tail had slipped out.
Lance raised his hand and pressed it against the tail, which was covered in blue scales. Magical energy flowed from his palm and enveloped his tail, quickly restoring it to normal. But he couldn't guarantee that the spell would hold for long.
Dragons typically don’t suppress their mating seasons. As a species with difficulty reproducing, having more young dragons is something worth celebrating for the dragon clan.
Especially for someone like Lance, the only adult dragon in his clan, and the only blue dragon.
Dragon clans do not fear inbreeding; their abilities are strong enough. What the blue dragon clan needs now is more dragon eggs, more young blue dragons.
Originally, the blue dragon clan should have flourished with the succession of the previous Blue Dragon Queen, but she clearly had other interests and only laid a single dragon egg when her life was near its end.
The continuation of the species was, after all, a natural mission. The approach of Black Dragon Nasan was the standard within the dragon clan—plenty of concubines, preferably from highly fertile species like succubi. Even if the hybrid dragons awakened other powers, it was still better than letting their entire species become a part of history.
Lance hadn’t thought seriously about this matter before. But now, as the time approached, his first reaction was how to get through this phase smoothly, not continuing the dragon clan's bloodline.
Perhaps he was truly the last of the blue dragons.
Lance's expression was unreadable, and his heart beneath the heart-scale was on the verge of burning, but his body still felt cold due to the exposure to the melting snow.
The flames in the stove were growing stronger, yet Lance’s actions of adding wood had slowed down. The hot water in the pot was bubbling, but Lance lacked the strength to care about such trivial matters.
He had really become sick now.
Mira leaped down from the energy passage of the library, becoming more and more familiar with the unique magic inside the tower.
Having overcome her initial fear, every jump brought her a new feeling. As she fell, she could almost feel a kind of peace in the descent.
She wondered what kind of breakfast Lance would prepare. He loved meat so much; it was probably something meat-related, right?
Mira decided she would eat less. It would be best to explain to Lance that it wasn’t that she disliked his cooking, but rather that eating too much meat in the morning made her stomach uncomfortable.
With that thought, Mira landed smoothly.
She walked toward the kitchen but was met with an unexpected sight in front of the stove.
Lance was collapsed on the floor, and the flames in the stove were about to scorch him.
Burns are very painful.
Mira didn’t have time to think further. She waved her hand, and the dirt instantly filled the stove, extinguishing the flames. She quickly ran over to Lance.
Lance had become fragile. He had clearly said just yesterday that he was fine.
Now, his body was polarized—the part closer to the stove was scorching from the heat of the flames, while the part farther away felt unbearably cold, like falling into a natural abyss.
Mira thought to herself, Lance really was unlucky—more unlucky than her. Ever since she entered the tower on her first day, it seemed like he had been constantly injured, unconscious, and delirious.
She had always thought his body was strong, not fitting the stereotypical image of a wizard. But now, he seemed to embody every stereotype of a wizard.
Using her giant-strength magic, Mira lifted Lance and dragged him back to his bed.
She saw several books on magic potion-making on the bedside table.
Lance had clearly already realized the issue with his body. Mira picked up one of the books, noticing that the bent pages all contained recipes for cooling potions.
Mira read through the pages, jotting down the names of the ingredients.
Lance kept his eyes closed, his brows tightly furrowed. Mira touched his forehead—it still felt half icy, half burning hot.
She wasn’t sure if he had a fever. She had never seen such a strange way of burning up.
"Do you want to go to the town?" Mira softly asked Lance. "I can’t diagnose you."
The doctor in the town would certainly be unwilling to come here, and Mira didn’t dare prepare medicine from the magic potion book herself.
After all, she wasn’t a doctor, and her potion lessons weren’t enough to treat a patient.
Lance couldn’t respond.
He could hear a voice whispering in his ear, but he couldn’t open his mouth to reply.
"I’ll be back soon," Mira said, grabbing both magic potion books and casting a teleportation spell to the town below.
The people in Hero Town were already familiar with Mira. They thought she was a maid of the princess, and Lance was a powerful mage hired by the king to protect her.
Unlike the hot-blooded youths, the adults seemed to understand that the relationship between the princess and the dragon was quite complicated. Offending the dragon would bring disaster and heavy taxes, which ordinary people couldn’t bear.
The people of Hero Town were different from other towns. The ones who sacrificed themselves to slay dragons were their children and husbands.
It was an unsolvable deadlock. Unless one day a hero appeared out of nowhere to kill the dragon and create a perfect world without sin, without making the children of ordinary families bear the title of "hero" or forcing ordinary families to pay the sacrifice.
Mira hurried through the streets, and although she greeted the people who called out to her, her tone couldn’t mask her impatience.
The apothecary owner greeted the anxious Mira.
He had once been a team medic for an adventuring group, and after the group disbanded, he opened this shop in Hero Town. He was best at making ointments for cuts and sword wounds. Over the years, he had also learned how to treat illnesses in children.
"Cold and hot flashes, right?"
Mira nodded. "I don’t know what’s happening." She pulled out the magic book from her bag. "I checked some potion books and found this formula."
The apothecary owner glanced over it briefly.
"Does that mage know healing magic too?" The formula was indeed for cooling, but the preparation method was somewhat unusual.
Mira wasn’t sure, so she replied, "He’s skilled in everything related to magic. He found this formula himself."
"The contents are fine," the apothecary owner said. "Mira, I’ll prepare the ingredients based on this formula, but your mage’s method is different from mine. I can’t help you brew it."
Mira nodded repeatedly. "I can prepare it myself according to the book. Thank you for your help."
The apothecary owner went to prepare the ingredients. Mira waited in the shop.
On the steps outside the shop, a few women had gathered to do their work, and Mira could overhear their conversation.
The women were saying that only half the group who went to the Sword Tomb had returned. The rest were still on the road.
Mrs. Ellin’s second son had run off with his father’s sword. They had slowed their journey to search for the boy and the sword he took.
According to Mrs. Ellin’s wishes, the sword, coveted by too many, should have been buried forever in the Sword Tomb, not carried by someone else to continue causing death.
The gap between humans and dragons was innate; how could it disappear just because of a sword?
Everyone saw Fran Ellin as a great dragon slayer, but who saw the widow Ellin and her three children, struggling to survive after his early death?
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Mira listened to their gossip, silently cursing Ellin for his irresponsibility. But she knew she wasn’t in a position to judge Ellin’s actions. She just instinctively sympathized with Mrs. Ellin. Her criticisms only brought peace to her own heart.
The apothecary owner interrupted Mira’s thoughts.
He came out carrying two sets of ingredients.
"Mira, one set is prepared using your mage’s method. If it doesn’t work, use this one according to what I’ve told you." He gave Mira the instructions for brewing and handed her the two bags of ingredients.
Mira confirmed everything with the apothecary owner, paid for the medicine, and returned to the tower.
Lance was still unconscious.
He still felt very hot to the touch, yet was trembling uncontrollably.
Alternating cold and hot—just as the apothecary had said, it seemed like a cold-induced fever, likely from exposure.
Mira suspected it wasn’t just a cold. There might be something else she didn’t know, but for now, the most important thing was to lower his temperature.
Mira pulled back the curtains in Lance’s room, then used wind magic on the other side of the tower to help circulate the air.
She brewed the medicine according to the magic potion book.
The entire process of brewing the potion felt like an experiment. With the help of magical flames, Mira produced a shallow blue solution emitting cold vapors.
She used magic to administer it to Lance, the process grim, and Mira was reluctant to recall it.
Once everything was done, she slumped into a chair, out of breath.
Having stayed up all night, skipped breakfast, and run back and forth, Mira felt an overwhelming fatigue as she finally relaxed.
She waved her hand and created a magical bread, eating as she flipped through the potion-making book.
The book said the potion would take one to two hours to take effect. This was a crucial period. Mira needed to stay by Lance’s side. If they made it through this time safely, his condition would improve. If not, she would have to try other methods.
Mira sat in the chair, observing Lance.
His complexion was poor, and his lips had turned pale, a clear sign that he was ill. Shadows cast by his eyelashes darkened under his eyes, giving his face a sickly appearance, marring his handsome features.
She continued to watch him, occasionally lifting her hand to check his body temperature.
It was still burning hot. Mira wondered if she should get some cold water to wipe his body, but the apothecary had warned her that alternating between hot and cold was not beneficial for Lance’s recovery at this point.
There wasn’t much she could do, and it was nothing compared to the help Lance had given her.
Mira stared at him, helpless. There was nothing else to occupy her thoughts, and the fatigue that had been building up inside her gradually took over.
She felt exhausted, and before she realized it, she had drifted off to sleep.
Once Mira’s breathing steadied, Lance, lying on the sickbed, suddenly opened his eyes.
His blue eyes gleamed with amber-like light, and his pupils gradually narrowed into a sharp shape. He was awakening to the more primal side of his dragon nature, with his tail appearing from beneath the blanket.
The blue dragon tail slid out from under the blanket and curled around Mira’s waist, gently pulling her onto the bed with him.
Lance looked down at her.
The idea of soaking in cold water had clearly been ineffective.
He needed to try movement instead.
Lance wrapped Mira in the blanket.
He propped himself up, and under the light of the candle, his shadow stretched out, resembling the outline of a dragon. The thick, blue-scaled tail dangled behind him, though he still retained a human-like posture. Beneath his clothes, fine dragon scales could be seen appearing on his body.
The half-man, half-dragon form was the most terrifying. It also showed that his energy was unstable.
Lance didn’t want to show Mira his most terrifying side. He felt that either his human form or full dragon form would be better than this.
He left the room.
Lance transformed into a full dragon and flew through the clouds above the tower, trying a second approach to alleviate his current state.
The medicine designed to regulate his body temperature was working, but his heat was not caused by a fever.
He circled the mountains, the alternating hot and cold sensations passing through his body. The dragon paid them no mind. He spread his wings wide and consumed the energy within his body.
Only when he was completely exhausted did he return to the tower. The sky had completely darkened. Flying had proved more useful than the cold water bath. He now had no energy left.
When Mira opened her eyes, she was enveloped by a pleasant scent. She blinked and realized she was lying on a soft mattress, and beside her was a body radiating warmth and a familiar scent.
Mira curled her limbs together. She was going to leave. But just as she made a move, Lance opened his eyes.
"Good evening, Mira." Lance’s voice was deep and muffled, light yet carrying a sense of depth.
Mira looked up, meeting his gaze.
Uncontrollably, her mind drifted back to the strange passages she had read last night.
She thought she understood what was going on with Lance.
She wasn’t sure, but comparing dragons to humans wasn’t entirely accurate. Still, many traits in nature mirrored each other.
"Good evening." Mira avoided his gaze.
The feeling she had reading those words was completely different from the sensation of Lance being so close. Now, she felt fear.
Mira curled her toes. Her shoes had been taken off—clearly by Lance.
She was even more frightened now.
"Are you feeling any better?" Mira gathered her courage to ask Lance. He kept his distance on purpose, but it wasn’t enough to suppress the unease she felt.
It was different from before. They had slept on the same mat before, but it hadn’t felt like this.
Mira was scared, especially after remembering the passages from last night. What she felt now wasn’t the anticipation described, but fear.
She didn’t know why it was fear, but she now felt an overwhelming urge to escape.
Lance made her feel afraid—his pleasant scent, his high body temperature, all of it made her scared.
She couldn’t imagine what might happen if she stayed.
She liked being with Lance, but not in this way.
Lance noticed her fear.
He knew that his actions could be seen as offensive. His nature wasn’t an excuse for that. Fortunately, he was utterly exhausted now.
"I’m not doing well," Lance answered her question.
Mira looked at him; his face seemed even worse than before. In the warm light, he looked like a blank canvas.
Mira hesitated. She didn’t know whether she should stay with Lance. It seemed like something out of the book she had read yesterday, where the female protagonist would stay out of kindness. But in her case, she didn’t want to stay. She was worried about Lance, but she was more afraid.
Lance wouldn’t die from this illness. But if she stayed, maybe she would be hurt.
Mira admitted to herself that the stereotypes in books about mages didn’t fit her experience. Mages weren’t like the beautiful and kind female protagonists in stories; they were selfish. She wanted to protect herself from harm.
Before she had found herself in this situation, she had been curious about everything the books described. But now, when faced with the reality of the situation, fear had completely overshadowed her curiosity.
Lance could feel the change in her emotions. He understood why Mira was afraid.
His voice shifted, but the tone was still reassuring. "Shall I take you back?"
Mira exhaled. Lance was the same Lance she knew, and that part hadn’t changed.
"I can go back by myself," she said.
Though she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, she couldn’t stay here.
"Alright." Lance softly responded. He propped himself up and cleared the space to let Mira pass.
Mira crawled out of the blanket. Thankfully, her clothes were only wrinkled from sleeping, nothing more.
She quickly passed by Lance, and in her panic, almost stepped on him.
Lance helped steady her, his hand transferring a burning heat that was scalding. Mira immediately recoiled from the touch.
She bent down to put on her shoes, trying to distance herself as much as possible from Lance.
His nature didn’t want Mira to leave. She was the only one in the tower who made him feel comfortable.
Lance, entranced, reached out carefully and grabbed her wrist.
But when Mira turned to face him, his hand slid from her sleeve and he let go.
"Sorry," Lance whispered.
He was exhausted and uncomfortable. His nature urged him to get close to Mira, but reason told him it wasn’t right.
Mira was still a young girl, and she hadn’t fully developed her understanding of things. Lance wasn’t sure if he was mature enough, but compared to Mira, he had lived for centuries.
He lowered his head, unsure of what expression to wear.
The heat from his fingers, from the brief contact, caused Mira to feel a sharp sting of discomfort. She watched Lance with a furrowed brow. An unfamiliar emotion stirred inside her, one that screamed for her to stay.
But Mira knew she couldn’t stay. She began to struggle, her movements to leave growing hesitant.
This hesitation gave the dragon a chance.
Lance stood up. As a mage, his height was imposing, and in this moment, it felt suffocating. Mira wanted to retreat, but she couldn’t move.
Lance’s kiss gently touched her forehead.
"Sorry, Mira." His voice was still soft. He smiled, and the pleasant scent around him grew even stronger.
"I frightened you."
Indeed! Mira didn’t hesitate anymore. This kiss was nothing like the light touch from last night!
Without thinking, she turned around and ran, not looking back at Lance. She needed to get away quickly.
Lance felt a pang of disappointment but also relief. His irritation was still present, and his dragon tail slipped out again, flicking in frustration.
The side effect of switching between day and night was insomnia.
Mira returned to her room. She tossed and turned on the mattress, but in the end, she gave up fighting with herself and decided to get up and find something to eat.
Mira started a fire on the stove, and then she heard some sounds.
Lance had come over again. Just as he had said, he seemed to be having difficulty controlling himself.
"I'm hungry," Lance said to Mira. "Shall we make some late-night snacks?"
Mira looked down at the flames dancing in the stove. Leaving the bedroom environment had eased some of her fear.
Mira extended her hand and conjured a magical loaf of bread, offering it to Lance.
Lance narrowed his eyes. Blue dragons didn’t eat bread. While a magical loaf could fill the stomach, a blue dragon wouldn’t eat bread.
He flashed a smile. "I’ll go get something to eat." Lance tossed out the line and disappeared.
It seemed like his illness had caused some changes in him, making him appear strangely more free-spirited? Mira wasn’t entirely sure, but one thing was clear: no matter how he changed, Lance was still Lance.
The ingredients she had purchased from the town were running low. This time, Mira had rushed to the town for medicinal herbs and had forgotten to replenish her food supplies.
Mira sighed. She looked at the wilted vegetable leaves left in the basket, hoping that Lance might find something to fill their stomachs.
Before long, Lance returned, carrying a freshly skinned fat sheep.
"Let’s have a barbecue," Lance suggested.
Although blue dragons could devour raw lamb, Mira obviously couldn’t. So, Lance had put in the effort to kill the goat, bleed it, and skin it before bringing it back.
Mira’s gaze fixed on the plump sheep. "Is this from the pasture upstairs?" That was meant as an offering to the dragon.
"Will there be a problem with slaughtering it this way?"
"The dragon won’t mind," Lance replied, understanding what Mira was thinking. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her. "Anyway, it’s not here."
His scent came closer with his words. Mira quickly shifted the topic. "There’s so much, we can’t finish it with just the two of us. Shouldn’t we divide it into portions?"
"No need," Lance said, placing the sheep on the stove.
"It needs to be marinated," Mira quickly intervened. She didn’t have the right spices on hand, so she used some cooking magic to make up for it.
With the aid of magic, Mira quickly positioned the heavy sheep on the stove.
Lance knew that his nature was still influencing him, so he instinctively moved to the side, away from the stove.
Mira adjusted the sheep on the grill. Since the stove wasn’t like an open campfire, she needed to control the flame to ensure it was in the right spot.
Lance’s gaze remained on her. Under the firelight, Mira looked incredibly focused.
Her hands glimmered with magical light as she used magic to assist in handling the heavy sheep.
The magic, aided by the dragon scales, emitted a faint blue glow.
Mira wore the dragon scale Lance had given her around her neck.
He also had a shining dragon scale on his chest—a blue dragon's heart-protecting scale.
As Mira adjusted the flames, she lifted her head, only to hear a soft, deep voice—a song in an unfamiliar language.
It was a melody Mira couldn’t identify, and she didn’t understand the words, but she could feel the ancientness in the tune. She wasn’t sure why Lance suddenly began to sing, but her gaze was drawn to him, naturally staying focused on him.
Mira discovered a new side to Lance.