Elder Byron came not only to confirm Nidhogg’s fate (he was over 80% certain the scourge would survive for millennia, and over 90% sure the mad dragon was merely acting up again) but also to verify his “visa” with Lich Savvy.

Of course, in Farreth, it wasn’t called a visa but a passage contract.

As the name implies, when traveling from one race’s territory to another, one must first sign a contract and obtain magical permission before being allowed entry. Different races have distinct contract characteristics. The most common is a parchment scroll; the Elves use elemental resonance gems, while the Treants employ a living bond—each foreigner entering receives an oak tree seedling for symbiotic monitoring.

The dragon race’s passage contract is simpler and more direct: they brand the back of the entrant’s hand with a dragon blood mark—not actual dragon blood, but it’s called that. This mark fades gradually over the passage contract’s validity period. Once expired, it turns completely gray, causing intense burning pain and even summoning enforcement authorities.

Both dragons and elves are widely acknowledged as the races with the most difficult-to-obtain passage contracts. The annual quota for entry is downright stingy—though exceptions are made for tourism and consumption, of course.

In short: “You know the contract mark in Helheim is renewed daily, right?”

Elder Byron’s hint to leave was unmistakable. If you had no business here, you’d better get out fast—Helheim welcomed no outsiders on its shores.

The dragons’ extreme protectiveness of their young had once led them to consider implementing hourly contract stamps—or simply closing the island entirely to outsiders. Fortunately, that policy never took effect; otherwise, yesterday’s situation would’ve been impossible to resolve. But now that business was concluded, the pragmatic dragon eyed the Lich as if to say, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Savvy the Lich was utterly baffled by this bunch of lunatics. In his youth, he never would’ve imagined describing a dragon—no, a group of dragons—as “insane.” Could it be… I’m providing after-sales service for an investment dragon?

He pointed with a white finger bone at the little kid beside him, staring longingly at Daddy. Even if you go to the hospital for a shot, you have to stay for at least half an hour of observation. Let alone last night’s power amplification ritual.

Esther was asking his dragon daddy, “Can I take Brother Eli to see my vegetable garden?”

It was rare to meet a child his own age—or at least he thought so. El wasn’t entirely sure, but he figured they were close. Aside from the older boy being a bit taller, they looked practically identical. The confident little dragon believed that with a bit of effort, he could grow taller than his big brother. Then he’d be the older one! The idea of being the older sibling fascinated him. Don’t ask why—he just wanted to be the boss.

“Sure, but you can’t leave the barrier around the nest.” Nidhogg’s extreme protective instincts toward the young ones hadn’t fully subsided after yesterday’s incident.

In truth, he ultimately decided to follow his son and his friend to the “vegetable” garden outside, leaving the two guests at home behind.

The guests were unfazed by this. One extended a skeletal hand, the other deepened the imprint, and they agreed to meet again around the same time tomorrow.

Then Elder Byron prepared to leave. He was genuinely quite busy—like rushing back to tell that bunch of idiots who’d come this morning to offer their “condolences” that our dragon was perfectly fine! Sorry about that, but when it comes to the ceiling of combat power, the dragon clan still calls the shots.

“What about the boy?” Savvy grumbled, though his heart remained constantly with his disciple. Truth be told, in all his years, he’d seen countless prodigies and taught many pupils, yet never encountered one with magical talent like Eli’s.

Were it not for fear of the Light Church issuing a continent-wide warrant for his arrest, he would have eagerly asked Eli if he’d like to join him in achieving immortality and exploring the boundless depths of knowledge together.

Elder Byron walked away without a word, leaving only his unbalanced remark: “How could we possibly brand a cub? That would be so painful.” For any cub entering the dragon realm, the standard passage contract was a basic parchment scroll—he could simply add the date when he returned to his office.

Lich Savvy: “?” As if I don’t feel pain?!

Clearly, the dragon clan couldn’t care less about whether a skeleton’s bones hurt. Neither did the dragon itself. The next day, during the routine hunting party, Nidhogg simply hauled this old skeleton along to bolster their fighting strength.

“Hasn’t your child already hatched? Why join the hunting party?”

Before reincarnation, he was a shut-in holed up in a mage tower. And after reincarnation, he was a refined skeleton lich. Walking through the harsh, muddy environment of the Rift Forest, he felt like this place was so damp that it was as if some giant monster had licked him from head to toe the moment he stepped in.

The lich’s question didn’t even need Nidhogg to answer it—the Thunder Dragon Alina could handle it. Clearing the path ahead, she shot Savvy a peculiar glance and said, “If you went through all that trouble to help another dragon obtain precious artifacts, only to have them leave immediately after their young were born—while your own young haven’t even arrived yet—would you feel good about that?”

The old bones froze.

To the dragon clan, the principle was simple: however many days another dragon aided you, you must aid them in return. That was fairness. Both Nidhogg and Alina held this belief.

The other dragons rolled their eyes in disdain at the Lich’s notion of reaping benefits without reciprocating.

Lich Savvy: …Where was your talk of fairness when you were robbing everyone else?!

But the other dragons had already shifted their congratulations to Alina and Purle. After eight years of incubation, they finally had their own little dragon. “How is the little dragon? Isn’t it adorable?” 

“What elemental type is it? Thunder dragon? Wind dragon?” 

“I’d love to meet it! Newborns must resemble El—like a sweet, fluffy little cake.”

The dragon clan’s extreme protectiveness toward hatchlings manifested in every aspect. For instance, during the newborn’s first period, no outsider could approach the new parents’ nest.

Their aggression would surge to unprecedented levels.

Dragon law also implicitly states that if you get beaten up for approaching a new parent’s nest, it’s entirely your fault.

But there are exceptions.

Take right now, for instance. Little Cake, named Esther, stood on tiptoes alongside his newfound friend, Eli, peering curiously into the dragon egg at the baby dragon inside. For every young dragon, their first cradle in life is their eggshell. Only after fully digesting the power within the egg do they sleep in beds crafted from gold coins and precious stones.

In El’s imagination, newborn dragonlings must be tiny and soft… Then, he unexpectedly encountered a healthy, sturdy little coffee-colored dragon standing taller and more robust than himself.

The little boy’s pupils dilated in shock.

Though the young dragon couldn’t yet transform into human form, it had already mastered the skill of gnawing its incredibly hard dragon eggshell to smithereens. Perhaps because it had spent nearly every day before birth snuggled close to Esther, becoming thoroughly familiar with its big brother’s scent, the little dragon smiled the moment it saw El. It even tried to share what it currently considered the most delicious food in the world—the eggshell, with its milky aroma and satisfying crunch—with its brother.

Esther hadn’t expected Uncle Green Dragon to grant him permission to see the baby dragon. After being sent to the childcare team with Brother Eli today, Aunt Red Dragon explained that newborn dragons were extremely fragile, and no one could approach them for a short while.

Though disappointed, El understood the logic—just like the newborn babies he’d seen in hospitals, these little ones were delicate and fragile, demanding careful handling. In the end, he’d only asked Aunt Red Dragon to inquire with Uncle Green Dragon if he could give the beautiful seashells he and Brother Eli had found by the sea to their newborn dragonlet brother.

The result? Uncle Green Dragon personally invited them over as guests—undoubtedly the most patient dragon ever.

Esther became the first person in the world, aside from Aunt Thunder Dragon and Uncle Green Dragon, to see the baby dragon. He washed his hands thoroughly and moved with extreme caution, terrified of hurting his little brother in any way.

Then…

He nearly suffocated under the embrace of his “fragile” little dragon brother.

Brotherly love can be so heavy.