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

Upon hearing the boy's shout, Matthew's body stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment.

The fingers hanging at the sides unconsciously curled up, the nails digging deep into the palm, causing a stinging sensation, before slowly relaxing.

This happened repeatedly, as if he were engaged in some kind of silent, intense inner struggle.

Ultimately, all the emotions he showed on his face vanished.

Anxiety, fear, hesitation, pain.

All of that receded as quickly as the tide, leaving only a near-dead stillness, a calm that came after making the final decision.

That calmness wasn't one of relief, but rather the calm that comes after making a firm decision, like someone who has stood on the edge of a cliff for a long time before finally deciding to jump.

He slowly stood up and walked towards the stone gate.

Outside the door stood a boy who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.

He was wearing a brand-new, dark blue apprentice robe, with a small, fresh ink stain on the cuff, clearly indicating that he had just been studying or experimenting.

His eyebrows and eyes bear a slight resemblance to Matthew's, especially the contours of his brow bone and the lines of his jaw, which show obvious signs of family kinship.

The boy was carrying a paper bag wrapped in rough kraft paper, with steam rising from the opening and emitting a warm aroma of food.

"I brought some freshly baked bread and hot soup from the cafeteria."

The boy saw the door open, and a clean, untroubled smile immediately spread across his face as he held up the paper bag.

"I noticed you haven't been to the cafeteria for the past few days, so I guessed you'd be too busy to eat there, so—"

Matthew stepped aside silently, clearing the doorway.

The boy walked in.

He placed the paper bag on the table, and his eyes lit up when he saw the ceremonial materials spread out on the table.

"Big brother! Are you preparing to advance to advanced apprentice level?!"

His voice was filled with pure excitement.

"Great! Your supervisor's been treating you so badly lately, once you get promoted—"

"Arno," Matthew interrupted him.

Arno's words came to an abrupt halt, and he turned to look at Matthew with some confusion.

Matthew's gaze was currently fixed on the young, still somewhat immature face of his distant cousin.

Two years ago, it was he who personally wrote a letter to introduce this young man, who had shown remarkable wizarding talent in his rural hometown, to his mentor Calder.

At that time, he was sincere.

He guided the newcomer, Arno, who was both curious and timid, to familiarize himself with the cold laboratory, teaching him step by step how to identify the dangerous yet fascinating basic potion ingredients.

When Arno failed his first attempt at Blood Moon Meditation and was so frustrated that he almost cried, I patted him on the shoulder and awkwardly comforted him. Then, without hesitation, I lent him my meditation notes that I had painstakingly kept years ago to copy and refer to.

But how did things get to this point...?

"Do you remember when I wrote to ask you to come over?" Matthew said slowly, his voice a little hoarse.

Arno nodded vigorously.

"Of course I remember! If it weren't for you, big brother, I'd probably still be back in my hometown, digging in the fields and herding sheep with my dad."

He paused, a hint of emotion creeping into his smile.

"My dad still often talks about how Matthew has made something of himself, made a name for himself, and hasn't forgotten us poor relatives. He's a good kid who doesn't forget his roots."

Matthew didn't say anything more.

The air inside the stone chamber seemed to freeze as soon as Arno finished speaking.

The light emanating from the few cold white rune stones on the wall seemed to become heavy and viscous, silently pressing down between the two of them.

Arno's smile slowly faded.

He has known Matthew for many years.

He was familiar with his cousin's temperament.

They are impatient, competitive, and prone to throwing things and getting angry when things don't go their way, but they are always straightforward and can't keep things to themselves.

But Matthew, standing before me, was eerily calm.

That tranquility was like an ancient well, bottomless and swallowing up all ripples.

Arno sensed something was wrong, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Big brother?" Arno seemed to have sensed something.

Matthew stared at him blankly.

The sound is very flat when you open your mouth.

"Arnold, I need your help."

"...What kind of busy?" Arno's heart skipped a beat.

"I can't find anyone else."

Matthew ignored him and continued talking to himself.

"In this place, I can find someone capable of making up for the key flaws in my promotion ceremony, someone who is willing to believe in me, and someone who is willing to come to me alone..."

Matthew's voice finally showed a very subtle fluctuation.

But that fluctuation wasn't directed at Arnold; it was more like an emotional reluctance to persuade his former self, a final affirmation of his own fate.

"...It's only you left."

As soon as the words were spoken, Arno's heart felt as if it had been suddenly gripped by an invisible hand!

A chilling sensation, carrying a strong sense of foreboding, instantly swept over his entire body!

The vague sense of crisis that had been lurking at the beginning collapsed into reality at this moment.

That instinctive, primal intuition for danger began to frantically ring alarm bells in his heart.

"Big brother?"

A slight, almost imperceptible tremor appeared in Arno's voice.

"What's wrong with you?"

He tried his best to remain calm, but his pupils involuntarily contracted slightly.

He forced a weak smile:

"Brother Matthew, what are you saying! Do we brothers need to be so polite?"

If any materials are missing from the ceremony, just tell me their names!

I'm doing pretty well in the group right now, and Senior Brother Luo Fei even praised my potential. I... I'll swallow my pride and ask him for help; he can definitely help you borrow the materials!

Matthew did not answer.

He simply stared at Arno, his expression incredibly complex.

Pain, struggle, guilt, resolve, and the deepest despair.

These emotions, like an overturned palette of paints, intertwined chaotically, ultimately blending into a chilling gloom.

Arnold's intuition was screaming wildly!

His gaze swept rapidly across the ritual materials on the table, like that of a startled rabbit.

Crystal cores, rune powder, silver threads, potions...

With his limited apprenticeship knowledge, he managed to recognize a few of them.

But this was far from enough for him to understand the complete structure of the ritual, let alone determine which element was missing, or the specific, or even the actual, purpose of each material.

His knowledge was insufficient to deduce the danger from the material itself.

But Matthew's eyes, a mixture of farewell and destruction, said it all.

What's missing is something extremely important, perhaps even... irreplaceable.

Panic, like cold vines, began to entwine his heart.

He suppressed the urge to turn and run, trying his best to keep his voice steady, but the last syllable of his voice trembled uncontrollably:

"Brother Matthew, what exactly... are you missing from your supplies?"

He swallowed hard, raised his voice, and tried to make his words sound more convincing.

"I have a really good relationship with Luo Fei, my senior in the group! He especially values ​​my talent!"

As long as I ask, he'll definitely be willing to help me with whatever the materials are.

"I...I'll go right now—"

"It's too late."

Matthew's voice interrupted him; it was deep, yet carried a resolute determination that cut off all escape routes.

"Moreover, time... is running out."

"When? Brother, please don't do this—let's talk this out—"

Arno's voice began to sound panicked, and he involuntarily took a step back.

Matthew didn't answer, he just took a step forward.

His steps were slow, but each step seemed to tread on Arnold's taut nerves.

Arno took another step back, his back slamming heavily against the cold, hard stone wall with a thud.

The chill from the wall seeped through his thin apprentice robes and instantly penetrated his skin, raising goosebumps.

"B-Big brother... what exactly is this 'help' you're talking about?"

Arno's voice was already tinged with obvious sobbing and fear.

Matthew still did not answer.

He simply raised his right hand slowly, his five fingers spread, aiming at Arno's location.

Silently, the hidden array of runes pre-engraved beneath the stone slab floor was activated.

A dark red, viscous blood-like light seeped out quietly from every crack in the rough stone slab!

Like living worms from the earth, they spread and converged rapidly along the intricate and sinister patterns that had been carved in advance.

In the center of the room, with Arno standing at the core, a complete circular magic circle exuding an ominous aura was drawn!

Arnold's pupils suddenly dilated to their maximum size!

He lowered his head in horror, watching as the dark red streams of light coiled around his boots like venomous snakes, firmly fixing him to the core of the magic array.

He suddenly looked up, staring at Matthew in shock.

Only at this moment did he finally understand the core of the complex expression on Matthew's face.

That was a farewell.

It wasn't a farewell to him, but rather Matthew's complete and cruel farewell to the last remaining bit of human conscience and ties within himself.

"Big brother—! It's me! You wrote to me and asked me to come—no, you introduced me to this place—I've always thought of you as my own brother—"

Arno's voice completely broke down, becoming incoherent and filled with desperate cries.

His words were abruptly cut off by a dark red light curtain that suddenly rose up, almost tangible.

"Buzz—!"

With a deep hum, a dark red light suddenly rose from the ground, like countless invisible arms closing in instantly, completely engulfing Arno's figure!

Only a faint, extremely short groan, as if someone were being choked, could be heard.

The brown paper bag on the stone table fell to the ground, spilling warm bread and soup.

The still-warm food rolled a few times on the cold ground before finally stopping next to a pool of dark red, almost black, viscous liquid that was slowly spreading from the center of the magic circle.

Inside the stone chamber, deathly silence returned.

Only the cold, white rune stones on the wall still radiate a constant and indifferent light.

Matthew slowly knelt down beside the pool of viscous liquid that exuded a strong stench of blood and lingering magic.

His hands, which had regained their human form but were still stained with dark red blood and bits of flesh, began to tremble violently and uncontrollably.

It was not out of fear or regret, but rather a violent physiological reaction caused by the backlash from the ritual that had just erupted and forcibly extracted life and soul energy.

The grayish-green, scaly growth on the side of his neck swelled and pulsated slightly under the afterglow of the dark red magic circle, emitting an increasingly eerie and ominous glow, as if something was greedily sucking and growing within it.

He stared intently at the pool of remnants on the ground that belonged to Arno, a mixture of life essence and fragments of his soul, for a very long time.

"...I'm sorry, Arnold."

He finally spoke, his voice hoarse and broken, like two rough stones rubbing against each other.

"I don't want this to happen either. I really... have no other choice."

In the cold stone chamber, only his voice echoed.

No one responded.