Dragon Clan: Starting with the Azure Dragon Fruit

The nurse glanced at the clock on the wall: "Counting the time you spent coming back from Egypt, it's been almost 20 hours. How are you feeling now?"

"I feel better than ever before." Nono threw back the covers and prepared to get out of bed.

When can I be discharged from the hospital?

"Anytime is fine." The nurse tucked the logbook under her arm and smiled.

"You had a full range of vital signs checked before you were admitted to the hospital, and all your indicators were normal. You are just a little weak because you haven't eaten for a long time. If you feel okay, you can change your clothes and be discharged now."

Nono nodded, turned over and went under the bed to find her shoes, preparing to go back to the dormitory.

The nurse suddenly remembered something and reminded her, "Oh, right, Principal Angers said that after you are discharged from the hospital, if you have time, you should go to his office."

Nono paused for a moment, then realized that Principal Angers probably wanted to know the specific details of this mission.

Lin Yuan caused such a commotion this time, killing a second-generation species with a dragon's body. As one of the witnesses, Angers would definitely want to know more details about the mission from him.

She also happened to have something very important to report. Although she didn't know where her phone containing the photos of the scene was, she had memorized all the murals she saw in the Sakala underground passage thanks to her amazing memory.

Deep in the trenches off Japan, there lies the egg of the White King, and Angers must know this.

"Okay, I'll go back and wash up, change my clothes, and then go see the principal."

Chapter 111 The So-Called Avenger

Early morning, on the campus of Kassel College.

In the stillness of the night, the streetlights on campus cast long, thin shadows of the trees.

Angers traveled through Odin Square and Valhalla before finally stopping in front of a clock tower.

As the saying goes, there are no wrong nicknames, only wrong names.

For the man upstairs, the title of Night Watchman not only symbolized his duty to protect the academy, but also described his terrible lifestyle.

Angers went inside.

The room on the top floor of the clock tower was small and cluttered, piled high with drafts of alchemical matrices and ancient books. Yet, among these obscure academic materials, there were also a few Playboy magazines with revealing covers.

Clearly, the room's owner was both a rigorous scholar and a hopeless old rogue.

A half-empty bottle of Port Ellen sat on the corner of the table, next to a glass filled with ice, the liquid reflecting an amber luster, dazzling like gold.

The old-fashioned television on the wall was playing Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction." In the video, Mia walked down the stairs barefoot, her short black hair brushing against her cheeks, her loose white shirt tucked into her black trousers, exuding an indescribable sensuality and allure with every gesture.

The middle-aged man sitting in front of the television, with a slightly overweight belly, was staring intently at the screen, not even turning his head when someone entered the room.

“I think you’ve seen this movie many times,” Angers said, reminding the other person of his arrival.

"But you have to admit, no matter how many times you watch it, this scene is still fantastic. Quentin is a genius at understanding women."

The watchman's gaze lingered on the screen for two more seconds before reluctantly pressing the pause button on the remote. The television froze on the classic, provocative moment when Mia, possessed by Vincent, lit a cigarette in front of him.

“I’ve suggested to you more than once that you find someone to come and clean up this doghouse for you.” Angers kicked away an empty pizza box at his feet with disgust, so as not to get the sauce on it dirty on his leather shoes.

"Honestly, sometimes I really suspect that Fingel is your real son. You two are practically cut from the same cloth when it comes to being slovenly."

Upon hearing this, the night watchman sitting on the sofa shifted uncomfortably.

Angers's teasing clearly hit his sore spot, since his strict and rigid son still doesn't really want to talk to him at the school.

He snorted with some dissatisfaction, venting his anger on Angers: "I can't compare to you. You wear bespoke suits all day long and travel the world with public funds. I'm just a lonely old man who's been locked in the attic for years and doesn't even recognize my own son. I need to have some spiritual sustenance."

The night watchman teased his old friend while rummaging through the messy table.

A moment later, he pulled out a glass with unidentified water stains still clinging to its walls, which looked like it hadn't been washed in a while.

He didn't mind, wiped the rim of the glass twice with his sleeve, picked up the wine bottle on the table, poured half a glass, and handed it to Angers.

“Port Ellen?” Angers then noticed the label on the bottle.

This is a rare single malt whisky, made before the distillery closed, and very few remain.

"You have something so good, yet you keep it all to yourself?"

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you drinking too? How can you call it enjoying it alone?” The Night Watchman raised his cup and clinked it with his.

Angers didn't bother to expose his stinginess, and without adding ice, he drank the strong liquor straight from the glass.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

They were quietly savoring the aftertaste of this top-quality whisky, appreciating how the liquid transitioned in their mouths from a subtle oyster juice and sea salt flavor to a rich roasted oat aroma, and finally to the sweetness of honey malt, with distinct layers and a lingering finish.

After a while, the watchman saw that Angers seemed to still be savoring the memory with his eyes closed, so he quietly reached out and planned to pour the remaining wine into his own glass.

Just as the wine was about to reach the rim of the glass, time in the attic seemed to be cut off by a frame out of thin air.

Even the slightest pause made the Night's Watch realize something was wrong.

He only felt his fingertips go empty, and when his vision refocused, the glass filled with Porter Allen was already in Angers' hands.

He had an empty wine bottle, now completely empty, shoved into his palm.

"Damn it! You actually used 'Time Zero' just to steal a sip of wine?" The Night Watchman looked at the empty bottle in his hand, furious.

“This glass is mine.” Angers held up the amber-colored wine, his expression unusually relaxed.

"Don't think I didn't see it. You've already secretly drunk most of the bottle. You can't be too greedy, old friend."

Only in this doghouse-like attic, facing an old friend he'd known for nearly a century, would this leader of the secret society shed his disguise and reveal this scoundrel side.

As time relentlessly erodes, fewer and fewer of the old folks who survived his era remain.

The watchman shook the nearly empty wine bottle in his hand, knowing he couldn't snatch the glass back from Angers, and tilted his head back to blow the last few drops from the bottle.

"Tell me, what are you doing sneaking over here in the middle of the night?" He dropped his nonchalant demeanor.

"They couldn't possibly have actually smelled the wine and come here specifically to steal it from me, could they?"

Angers only drank half of it before putting the glass back on the table and turning to rummage through the refrigerator for ice; drinking it neat was too spicy.

“You should know why I’m here. After all, Fingel is your protégé. Although you rarely leave here, I guess you received the information even earlier than I did.”

"You did this because of Lin Yuan."

Ang nodded.

"He just single-handedly defeated a second-generation hybrid with a complete dragon body in Egypt, something unprecedented in the entire history of hybrids. As the greatest alchemist in existence, I'd like to hear your opinion on how we can make the most of this second-generation hybrid's body?"

The night watchman was stunned for a moment, staring at Angers' serious expression, and didn't come to his senses for a long time.

"So this is what you're concerned about? How to utilize the next generation?"

Angers picked up the glass of wine with ice, took another sip, and found that the ice made it much smoother.

"What else could it be that made me come to see you in the middle of the night?"

The Night's Watchman stared at him, a golden light seemingly shining in his eyes—proof that dragon blood was coursing through his veins.

In terms of lineage alone, he was even stronger than Angers.

"I thought you were worried about the child's bloodline."

As the person with the highest proportion of bloodlines in the entire academy, the Night Watchman was well aware of one fact: hybrids could never defeat the next generation with dragon bodies.

"Are you questioning Lin Yuan's lineage?" Angers' expression was relaxed, seemingly unconcerned.

“I know you’ve met some powerful mixed-race individuals in Japan.” The Night Watchman leaned forward, shifting his stance slightly.

"But ask yourself honestly, even among the Snake-Headed Eight Families, could that super hybrid known as the 'Emperor' fight against a second-generation species with a dragon's body?"

Angers shook his head: "Of course not. Not to mention the 'Emperor,' even my close friend Meneke Cassel couldn't do it."

This stumped the Night's Watchman. He had thought his old friend would say something to defend the newborn's bloodline and was ready to refute his outrageous statements.

To everyone's surprise, Angers didn't offer any explanation and readily agreed with his deduction.

"If that's the case, why don't you doubt his lineage? Or have you already discovered that he is actually a dragon king? You're using a 'drive a tiger to devour a wolf' strategy, first sending him to hunt pure-blooded dragons, and then using your power of words to kill him when he's the last dragon left in the world."

"Hey! Hey! Hey! What are you saying?" Angers interrupted his old friend's increasingly outrageous guesses.

"Do you think I'm that unscrupulous?"

The Night's Watchman stared at him for a moment, then nodded seriously.

"I think it's even more ruthless than I just described."

"So you're advising me to be wary of that child?" Angers asked casually, swirling his wine glass.

"I just wanted to fulfill my duty as vice principal to remind you that the child named Lin Yuan may not be a hybrid at all, or even human. Things are not as simple as you think."

“So what?” Angers retorted.

"He could never be a Dragon King. Even the four monarchs couldn't switch between human form and full dragon form at will. And as far as I know, even a Dragon King wouldn't be able to defeat a second-generation species head-on if he only maintained his fragile human form."

Looking at Angers' calm face, the night watchman suddenly realized that he himself was the one who hadn't figured things out all along.

His old friend was never a fool; Angers had probably already thought about what he was saying.

He neither intended to expose the boy nor take the matter to heart.

Angers is an avenger.

The so-called avenger is someone who will use any means necessary to send their enemy to hell, even if it means relying on the power of demons and ultimately falling into the abyss together, they will still take that step with a smile.

“Alright, it seems you’ve been planning this all along.” The Night’s Watchman stopped trying to persuade him.

As long as Angers is determined to do something, no matter how crazy it is, he will support him without reservation.

Their only obsession in this world now is slaying dragons.

What kind of monster is Lin Yuan? What kind of secret identity does he have? None of that matters. As long as this sharp blade is aimed at the dragon race, and as long as the boy is standing on their side right now, there's nothing to worry about.

Seeing that the Night's Watchman had been persuaded, Angers then brought up the real business again.

"The reason I came to find you this time is because, in addition to the body of that second-generation dragon, I also obtained the White King's reverse scale during this trip to Egypt."

"As the only alchemy master in the academy, you can help our S-rank think about how to utilize these rare materials. Although his strength is unmatched, he may not have as much knowledge about the properties of various alchemical materials as you do."

Angers was already being polite; in such a profound field as alchemy, Lin Yuan's knowledge was practically nonexistent.

"What did you say?" The Night Watchman sprang up from his chair, knocking over an empty bottle with his elbow. The bottle rolled twice on the table before falling to the floor, but he didn't bother to pick it up.

Are you telling the truth?

"It's true."

Whether it was the Black King who single-handedly created the entire dragon civilization, or the White King who also reigned supreme but ultimately met a tragic end through rebellion, both existed only in the fantasies of distant myths, according to the secret archives.

There has never been any substantial evidence of their existence for thousands of years.

And now Angers is telling him that there is a legendary scale of the White King? And it is the most important reverse scale of the dragon race?

"This is insane... This world has gone mad." The Night Watchman took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

"I've never seen materials of this caliber before..."

He paced back and forth in the room: "When will the goods arrive?"

"By sea, it will take more than half a month."

The night watchman had already walked to the bookshelf by the wall and began searching for any ancient books that might be useful.

"I've never seen such a high-grade material before... This involves something related to the fundamental authority of the world. I can't act recklessly; I need to study it carefully."

"Don't bother me for the next two weeks." He pointed to the door, clearly intending to see the guest out.

"Don't worry, even if the Dragon King attacks Kassel College in the next two weeks, your place will not be affected in the slightest."

Angers chuckled softly and pushed open the door, stepping into the night.

After learning Chapter 112, will I be able to defeat the next generation of savages?

Early in the morning, Lin Yuan, having had a good rest, walked out of the hotel lobby.

A light helicopter was parked on the tarmac outside. When the pilot saw Lin Yuan, he immediately jogged over.

"Mr. Lin Yuan? Professor Schneider asked me to pick you up. The work at Emperor Valley has already begun."

Lin Yuan nodded and boarded the helicopter.

They soon arrived above the Valley of the Kings.

From the air, the scene below is spectacular, with hundreds of workers divided into more than a dozen work groups busily working around a gap half-covered by yellow sand.