Reincarnated as a blue dragon, he collided head-on with a wizarding civilization.

Upon realizing her opponent had escaped, Una instinctively took a few steps after him, but stumbled and then abruptly stopped.

She stood there, head bowed, arms hanging limply at her sides.

The dark gray scales were now covered with bloodstains that were a mixture of dark red and bright red.

Some of the fluid was gushing from her own wounds on her abdomen and left arm, while some had splashed onto Matthew during the fight.

The viscous blood droplets slowly slid down the texture of the scales.

Tick, tick.

It crashed onto the grayish-white gravel below, pooling into a small, shocking pool of crimson in the cracks.

Her breathing was heavy and rapid, and her chest heaved violently.

Each breath felt like it took all my strength to force enough air into my lungs, which were burning from the intense pain and the over-explosion.

Then, slowly, as if she had lost all support, she squatted down.

She hugged her shoulders tightly with both arms, curling her whole body into a small ball.

The dragon girl huddled amidst the chaos of collapsed stone walls, shattered wooden crates, and billowing dust.

Her fingers dug deep into the gaps between the scales on her shoulder.

The force was so great that the scales on the knuckles lost their color and turned deathly pale.

She started to tremble.

It trembled even more violently than when it faced Matthew's threats.

But this trembling did not stem from fear.

Rather, it is the violent backlash and protest that occurs when the body suddenly relaxes after experiencing an explosive output of power far exceeding its limits and a high degree of mental concentration!

All the muscles in my body were spasming and twitching uncontrollably, and my blood vessels were constricting and dilating violently, bringing waves of dizziness and a feeling of coldness.

Every scale, every inch of skin, is sending the same sharp signal to the brain.

"Overdrawn! At its limit! Unable to sustain!"

At this moment, Motu staggered over from under the dead tree.

Dark red blood was still seeping from the wound on his left shoulder.

At the edge of that deep, bone-revealing claw mark, grayish-green toxins, like stubborn moss, were slowly and steadily eroding the surrounding healthy tissue.

Due to the excruciating pain and the effects of the toxins, his entire left arm had almost completely lost sensation and hung heavily at his side.

But he still dragged his heavy steps and walked step by step to Una.

He looked down, his eyes wide with astonishment at the small figure huddled amidst the ruins and pools of blood.

Una didn't look up, and didn't even notice him approaching.

She simply hugged herself tighter, burying her head deep in her arms, as if trying to use this curled-up posture to completely isolate herself from this cruel world.

Motu silently crouched down, bringing his gaze level with that of the curled-up Una.

"Una".

no respond.

Only a faint, suppressed tremor.

"Una".

He called out again, his voice not loud, but carrying a penetrating power.

Una's shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly.

She raised her head very slowly, as if she had used all her strength.

Those dark gray vertical pupils were now unfocused, their light scattered, as if shrouded in a thick fog.

Her eyes were empty and confused, as if she had just struggled to wake up from an extremely distant and terrifying nightmare, but had not yet been able to fully distinguish the boundary between dream and reality.

Her gaze lingered blankly on Motu's face for two seconds before slowly and laboriously regaining focus.

"You've come..."

Her voice was very soft, as soft as a sigh, almost as if it could be blown away by the wind.

"Just now... that person... seems to have... left?"

She paused, and the fingers that were wrapped around her shoulders unconsciously tightened a little more, her nails digging deeper into the scales.

"I'm so scared... I almost... died here..."

Her voice began to tremble uncontrollably, and her eyes quickly reddened, welling up with tears.

"In that case... I'll never see my brother again... He's still at the academy... waiting for me to send him money..."

Motu remained silent for a long time.

What I originally wanted to say suddenly became unsuitable to be said.

He quietly looked at the dragon girl in front of him, who was curled up, covered in wounds, and whose eyes were filled with lingering fear and confusion.

Looking at the deep nail marks she had dug into her shoulders, and at her helpless posture, huddled among the cold gravel and dust, like an abandoned young animal.

"You...you really don't remember what just happened?"

He asked the question in a calm voice, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Una raised her head, her vertical pupils filled with even deeper confusion.

She frowned slightly, trying hard to think, as if struggling through a fog of memories.

But in the end, only a pure, unadulterated confusion appeared on the dragon girl's face.

"I don't know..."

Her voice carried a naive, heartbreaking confusion.

"I only remember... that person... seemed to be trying to kill us... and then... I was so scared... everything went black... I think... I passed out... and when I woke up... I was here..."

She paused, as if she had thought of something, and her eyes brightened slightly.

"Was it...was the captain here? Or...Akino-senpai? Did they...drive the bad guys away?"

Motu stared at her with his golden vertical pupils for a full three seconds without blinking.

Then, he slowly stood up, pulled the leather bag containing the thunderwood from the gaps in the scales, and subconsciously weighed it in his paw.

The heavy wood made a dull thud inside the bag.

"……Um."

He finally responded with a flat tone, "It should be the captain."

Upon hearing this, Una felt as if a heavy burden had finally been lifted from her shoulders, and she relaxed completely.

His shoulders slumped limply, his taut body felt as if all the bones had been removed, and he leaned softly and slowly against the cold, broken stone wall behind him.

She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes casting soft shadows on her dusty cheeks.

The light in his dark gray vertical pupils was completely obscured by his eyelids, leaving only a tiny slit reflecting the boundless and indifferent gray-blue of the sky.

Motu turned around, facing the direction of the bustling and dangerous Blackwood Market.

The wound on my left shoulder still sends waves of burning and numbness through me, and the grayish-green toxins, like maggots clinging to my bone, are slowly eroding it.

However, the lightning bloodline within him is resisting this erosion in a domineering and persistent manner.

Although it cannot be eradicated, it effectively slows down the rate of its spread.

He looked down and glanced at his right forepaw.

On the sharp claws, there were still a few dark reddish-brown, half-dried bloodstains.

That was Matthew Anderson's blood.

Seventh Mixed Defense Team...

Green Tile, seemingly crazy and reckless, is fearless in a fight and has an unbelievably strong regenerative ability.

Una is usually timid as a mouse, cowering in a corner, with a barely noticeable presence.

However, once cornered, the power and fighting spirit that erupt from it can severely injure and force a mid-level wizard apprentice at the peak of his level, who is also a wizard with a mutation enhancement, to the point that he has to flee.

And then there's Captain Rolin, with his terrifying power to freeze space with a mere flick of his wrist...

It truly is... a place where hidden talents reside.

Motu carefully tucked the animal skin bag back into its hidden spot under the scales, then turned and walked back to Una, who was still huddled against the wall, trembling with fear.

"Can you still walk?" he asked with concern.

Una slowly opened her eyes and tried to move her legs.

Her legs were still trembling slightly, but she bit her lower lip and used her hands to support herself against the broken wall behind her, slowly and with great difficulty, she managed to lift herself up from the ground.

After regaining her footing, she subconsciously touched the crook of her arm and realized that the wicker basket had already fallen off during the fight.

Una's eyes widened slightly in alarm as she bent down to search through the wrecked ruins.

Motu, however, took the first step and picked up the wicker basket from the pile of rubble not far away.

The basket was covered in dust, and the handle still bore the marks of her nervous grip.

Motu gently patted the dust off the basket and handed it to Una.

Una paused for a moment.

Reaching out, she took the basket and slung it back over her arm, her fingertips gently stroking the rough surface. The dragon girl whispered in response:

"...Can walk."

Her voice was weak and her breathing was still unstable, but it revealed a tenacity, clearly indicating that she did not want to delay Motu because of her condition.

"Let's go. Let's go back."

Motu didn't say much, but spread his wings again and deliberately lowered his broad back to make it easier for Una to climb.

Una's movements were slightly more skillful this time than before, but she was still very careful, taking each step with extreme caution, as if afraid that her weight would put extra burden on the blue dragon beneath her.

The blue dragon spread its wings and took to the air once more.

The midday sun poured down without any obstruction, turning the winding Youshui River and the vast marshland below into a dazzling, flowing gold.

Una sat quietly on Motu's back, her arms wrapped around her knees, her chin resting gently on her knees.

Her dark gray vertical pupils stared blankly at the hazy outline of the hills blending into the horizon in the distance, without uttering a word.

Motu flew ahead, maintaining a stable and efficient cruising speed.

The wound on his left shoulder stung and felt cold in the airflow from the flight, but he did not slow down.

The heavy piece of paulownia wood was securely nestled among the scales, its natural silver-white thunder patterns occasionally reflecting a faint, cool luster under the blazing sunlight.

The core materials for crafting the Dragonblood Wand have now been basically gathered.

Only the last, most crucial, and most special element remains—dragon's blood containing highly active regenerative factors.

And the source...

Motu's gaze seemed to unconsciously sweep over a certain point on the vast land beneath him.

That direction leads to the camp where the auxiliary defense team is stationed.