Had the blond Saint Son not intervened in time, Esther would’ve been dragged headfirst into the dragon egg by the possessive little dragon. This unusually strong young dragon genuinely intended to share half its “nest” with the handsome older brother before it—only to be thwarted by another “villain.”

The young dragon immediately began whining and wailing, perfectly embodying the saying, “When you lack strength, even your anger just looks adorable.”

Meanwhile, his brother El’s attention had been diverted by the “villain’s” question: “I read in a book that young dragons born to parents of two elemental types might inherit both parents’ magic or fuse the two elements. Is that true?”

Like most children his age, Esther could only think in single threads. No matter what he was doing, if you presented him with his favorite food, he’d inevitably follow it.

So Saint Son’s question was like a waterfall cheeseburger to Esther.

A calorie bomb—utterly irresistible to a child.

“Alina is a Thunder Dragon, and Purle is a Wind Dragon. How do you fuse lightning and wind?” The child’s imagination ran wild, conjuring visions of lightning twisting into a tornado or a wind blade crackling with electricity.

“Alina and I have wrestled with this question too,” the Green Dragon said, fetching an ancient tome.

How ancient was this book? Even as the Green Dragon turned its pages with utmost care, crumbs fell from the tattered pages, causing the little dragon peering over curiously to sneeze repeatedly, spraying droplets everywhere.

Generally, young dragons inherit a single magic type from either their mother or father. Though skipped-generation inheritance or reversion to ancestral traits could occur. Regardless, both Alina and Purle had fervently hoped their offspring would be a deep purple thunder dragon—for thunder magic possessed greater destructive power, and no dragon parent would wish their child less formidable. When the coffee-bean-shaped hatchling emerged from its shell, both dragons were dumbfounded.

Earth magic? They thought uncertainly.

Green Dragon Purle felt that while he hoped the little dragon would be stronger than himself—at least not struggling to make friends like he once did—this was his baby. No matter what, he would adore it immensely.

Thunder Dragon Alina felt the same. She would love her child regardless of its strength, but she believed understanding the hatchling’s elemental nature was essential for proper nurturing. She pored over books all night before finally finding the answer in an ancient text left by the primordial dragons.“It’s an electromagnetic storm,” Green Dragon proudly explained to the two young ones, showing them the passage in the ancient text. 

Truthfully, he couldn’t understand most of it himself, but it didn’t matter. Alina could interpret the illustrations. She explained their young could generate powerful magnetic fields through electrical energy, then harness wind power to accelerate into ultra-high rotation, unleashing magical output. In simple terms: “Our Typhon might just become a super-powerful Storm Dragon someday! How about that? Pretty awesome, huh?”

Typhon—that was the name of the young offspring of Alina the Thunder Dragon and Purle the Green Dragon, the mythical Titan symbolizing storms and calamity.

Purple plus green equals brown; lightning plus wind equals electromagnetic cannon. You could say it was quite scientific.

If Esther possessed modern knowledge, he’d surely say that. Unfortunately, he spent most of his years in the modern world hospitalized—a near-illiterate who didn’t even know why holographic game pods glowed.

All he could do was cup his face and say, “Wow.”Then, after being picked up by his dad that afternoon, he whispered to his Saint Son friend: “Did you understand that just now?”

The little Saint Son not only understood but also demonstrated it live on the way back to the nest, just in case little El still had any confusion.

He drew a slender children’s wand from his bag, instantly summoning a blue-white electromagnetic arc that coiled around the smooth shaft. After condensing this pure lightning element into a pulsating orb of magic, he infused it with the shrill howl of wind elemental energy. The sphere rapidly expanded several times over, spinning like a sonic blast as it tore through the air. The young Saint Son, radiating an aura of divine light, flicked his wrist lightly. With the casual ease of tossing a pebble, he hurled the thunderous orb toward a rugged boulder in the distance.

“BOOM—!!!”

Blinding light erupted at the impact point, carving a bowl-sized crater into the boulder’s surface. Cracks spread like spiderwebs from the depression, rapidly radiating outward. 

By this point, young El’s mouth hung open in astonishment. But what truly halted both Nidhogg and the Lich Savvy in their tracks was the second thunderous boom that followed immediately. The boulder suddenly imploded from within, exploding without warning. 

Fragments of the boulder, caught in the residual electromagnetic field, ricocheted like lightning striking the ground during a storm, sparks flying. Several larger fragments even melted into crimson magma-like substances mid-flight due to intense friction, leaving scorched, deep crater-like marks on the ground as they dragged across the surface.

And this was merely Saint Son Eli’s first casual attempt after hearing the green dragon’s description.

Each step was basic magic any apprentice could master, yet clearly not everyone could so effectively fuse two such unstable elements.

Before this, others had attempted to blend the dispersal effect of wind spells with the devastating output of lightning spells. But the results? Suffice it to say, if they had achieved anything truly astonishing, Nidhogg and Savvy wouldn’t have halted today over the Holy Child’s minor experiment.

Without exaggeration, this was a groundbreaking fusion of genius.

Savvy dared not imagine what devastating magic the Holy Child might create once mastering more lethal, higher-tier lightning and wind spells.

Nidhogg even remarked, “Is this why the Pope had you bring the child?”

Typically, Holy Daughters and Sons—at least from Nidhogg’s limited encounters—rarely possessed such overwhelming offensive power. They generally followed the old Pope’s path: physical healing and spiritual guidance. Not that the Pope was weak; Light magic had its formidable spells, too.

It’s just…

“Something doesn’t sit right, does it?” As a Lich who had also endured the Third Expeditionary War, Savvy understood perfectly what Nidhogg hadn’t voiced. “But unfortunately, that’s not why the Pope sent me to escort the child.”

The matter of the Holy Son is both complex and simple.

“You know how the Holy Church’s Saint Maidens and Holy Sons are always reincarnated only after the previous one dies, right?”

This was also one of the triggers for the Third Expeditionary War. When the previous Saint Maiden fell, the new Saint, Juana, was born at the most perilous frontier between the Demon Realm and the human lands. The Knights Templar and the human expeditionary force were dispatched to retrieve her. Undaunted by death, they fulfilled their mission with honor, completing the monumental task of escorting the infant Saint back to the Church of Light.

Of course, nearly a millennium has passed since the Third Expedition, and Saint Juana has long become a figure in history textbooks.

The current Saint Maiden and Saint Son of the Church of Light are different individuals. The problem lies here: while the present Saint Son is still in his prime, the newly appointed Saint Son, Eliadeos, has already been born for over seven years.

“Which one is the fake?”

“That’s the problem—both appear genuine.” Pope Alfonso XIV personally conducted the verification twice, and both Holy Sons were deeply favored by the Light’s power.

The Church of Light is now deeply embroiled in factional strife, while the elderly Pope has entered the twilight of his life, his control significantly weakened.

“He fears both that the current Holy Son might kill Ilaedios and that someone within the Church might exploit Ilaedios’s status to seize power from the current Holy Son.” Two tigers cannot share the same mountain. Even if the current Holy Son were a saint, he might not tolerate another Holy Son—let alone one who is no saint at all. To protect both, the Pope must find someone powerful and utterly unconnected to the Church of Light to raise the child.

Thus, the wandering Lich Savvy was chosen.

As for the Young Saint’s family, the Ponce de Leon house truly cherished him. His grandfather, the duke, had died two years prior. His uncle Job, who had always cared for him, vanished over three years ago during an adventure (though he has since returned). His father, a spendthrift fool, had long since taken a mistress who bore him several children. To avoid entanglement in the conflict over the two Holy Sons, he forcibly annulled his marriage to Eli’s birth mother. Don’t ask how he succeeded—for various reasons, he simply did. 

The duke’s heir had inexplicably become a bastard.

“A pitiful child,” thought Lich Savvy, who considered himself long devoid of human heartbeat—a hardened old fossil. Yet he was still often shocked by the beastly schemes of today’s living. Then, glancing at the grand spectacle created by the “pitiful” child, he thought to himself, well, a pitiful child with immense magical power. 

Seriously, why not join him as a Lich? Everyone knows that’s how Lich become—a tragic past, a shattered life, and a mad lover. This was practically a knightly tale’s ultimate villain-in-training. Lich Master Savvy felt the weight of education deeply. 

And so, he watched helplessly as an ultimate villain who, if not properly taught, would destroy the world…Amidst the honey-sweet coos of Nidhogg’s young cub—“Wow, Eli’s so amazing!” “I’ve never met such a brilliant kid!” “Super-awesome Eli, can you teach me magic fireworks?”—he murmured softly yet firmly: “Call me Brother.”

“Big Brother!” Grand and dazzling fireworks instantly erupted across the azure sky above everyone’s heads. He could conjure terrifying explosions with magic or create brilliance that seemed to outshine even the sun above the clouds.