The colossal jiao dragon had been hiding in the lake for more than twenty days, but the human armies were still camped nearby, with iron birds flying overhead daily. The jiao dragon feared these iron birds, as they carried terrifying, long-range weapons with immense power. It had been gravely wounded by one of these weapons and had narrowly escaped death.
Feeling a growing hunger, the jiao dragon realized it had been a long time since it had eaten anything substantial. The lake's creatures were tiny, insufficient to even fill its teeth. The jiao dragon lay motionless in the mud, unable to hunt because any movement would cause the lake to churn. All it could do was open its massive jaws and hope some fish would swim in.
The lake's mud gradually covered the jiao dragon, leaving only its head exposed. It couldn't remember the last time it had eaten, only that a hapless little fish had once swum into its gaping mouth.
To pass the time, the jiao dragon continuously practiced fighting qi. Over the many days, it had consolidated its internal energy. It shook its massive head slightly, annoyed by a garbage bag that had fallen onto it.
The lake water was extremely dirty, filled with a heavy, acidic stench that made the jiao dragon uncomfortable. The flow of its internal energy slightly eased its hunger.
The jiao dragon's greatest hope now was that the humans would stay indoors at night, allowing it to quietly return to the underground river where it could regain some freedom and find a few small fish to eat. Though it wouldn't be a feast, at least it wouldn't starve.
However, the humans seemed to have made the area their permanent home. Periodically, an iron bird would search the lake, as if they had mapped out the jiao dragon's every move.
If this continued, the jiao dragon realized it would either be killed by the humans or starve to death.
The roar of an iron bird echoed from above. The jiao dragon lifted its head, glaring at the machine with fierce eyes. Despite the murky water, its sharp vision remained unimpaired. If only there was one, its wind blade could cut it in half. Unfortunately, there were many more nearby, preventing the jiao dragon from making any rash moves. Destroying one would reveal its location.
Several days passed, and the jiao dragon grew hungrier, feeling weak from the lack of food. It lay in the mud, motionless, hoping that sleep would help it forget its hunger. But the hunger made sleep impossible, and even its internal energy flow began to slow.
Suddenly, the jiao dragon lifted its head. It couldn't go on like this. If it didn't escape soon, it might not have the strength left to flee and would be captured by the humans. The thought of being imprisoned in a giant glass cage again made it shudder. It would rather die than live without freedom.
The jiao dragon had learned the iron birds' patterns. When one flew back, it took a while for another to return. Finally, it was dark. It stretched its enormous body, stiff from holding the same position for so long.
Slowly, it began to move, inching forward so slowly it was almost imperceptible. After half a day of painstaking movement, it paused to rest. This method of moving was more exhausting than swimming at full speed. After about half an hour of rest, it resumed its slow advance. Before dawn, it reached the underground river. The water here was fast-flowing and murky, making it hard to detect any movement.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The jiao dragon's movements quickened as it finally swam into the underground river, releasing a sigh of relief. Its body flowed joyfully through the dark waters, thrashing violently and causing the river to churn. With a fierce gleam in its eyes, it opened its enormous mouth and devoured the small fish in the water, gradually easing its hunger.
The jiao dragon's tail swished rapidly as it swam forward, eager to check on the safety of its lair. Soon, the underground river's water level began to drop and dry up. This river was fed by underground springs and was a one-way stream, preventing the jiao dragon from swimming to the other side.
Climbing ashore, the jiao dragon flicked its tongue in and out. Although it was no longer a serpent, its tongue was now more like that of a beast, with enhanced functionality. It could detect the scent, size, and even shape of prey within a five-kilometer radius.
Suddenly, the jiao dragon stopped. It sensed a group of humans approaching, and they were getting closer. It seemed they had tracked it here.
Slowly retreating, the jiao dragon submerged itself back into the water and swam deeper into the underground river.
Meanwhile, in the Vatican, Pope Paul III sat in an ancient medieval chair, his brow furrowed, and his fingers tapping rhythmically on his desk. The latest intelligence reports puzzled him greatly.
He picked up an envelope, drew out a letter, and read it again.
It was a whistleblower letter detailing everything the sender had experienced and seen in the Dragon Valley. It was clear that the writer harbored a deep hatred for the dragon. The letter also warned that Elder Kevin and Deacon Wright had pledged their loyalty to the dragon, having reportedly signed a mysterious contract. The letter ended without a signature, an anonymous message typed on a computer, making it impossible to trace. However, it was evident the sender was from the Church, as only someone familiar with its workings could deliver the letter directly to the Pope.
With this in mind, Pope Paul III had a good idea of who the suspect might be. It was likely one of the individuals sent on the last mission, although only two had returned, and they were the ones being accused.
He set the letter down and pressed a button on his large desk. Moments later, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," the Pope's deep voice called.
A beautiful nun entered, her head bowed, not daring to look at the Pope.
"Bring me Cardinal Havan. You may go," the Pope waved his hand dismissively, his fingers resuming their tapping.
Twenty minutes later, Cardinal Havan arrived in the Pope's chamber.
"Read this letter," the Pope handed it to him.
A few minutes later, Havan respectfully placed the letter back on the desk.
"What do you think?" the Pope asked, looking at Havan.
"Your Holiness, may I ask a question?" Havan inquired cautiously.
"Speak freely," the Pope gestured.
"Have you decided to abandon the dragon?" Havan bowed, hands lowered, not daring to meet the Pope's gaze.
The room fell silent, the rhythmic tapping of the Pope's fingers the only sound, making the atmosphere heavy. Havan didn't dare breathe loudly, sweat beading on his forehead.
"This is the best opportunity to elevate the Church's status. I won't give up, even if there's only a glimmer of hope. Although we can't act now due to the overwhelming secular power, our chance will come. Besides, the dragon's power grows stronger each time. One day, it will become as powerful as a god," the Pope said solemnly. Suddenly, he stopped tapping and looked up, staring intently at the ceiling, which was adorned with colorful frescoes, the central one depicting the Madonna and Child.
Havan, with his head bowed, didn't see the Pope's actions. He spoke respectfully.
"Your Holiness, since we are to ally with the dragon, this letter is useless. The dragon needs loyal followers. Only by placing its trusted individuals in high positions can we ensure its greater trust in us, which will facilitate our cooperation," Havan said.