When those two words came from Shen Luolin’s mouth, they carried no warmth at all, yet the cozy air inside the cave instantly turned stagnant.
Moyin’s hands, holding the bowl of soup, froze. She looked up, a flicker of confusion flashing in her clear eyes, which was soon replaced by a deeper emotion.
She shook her head, her voice very soft: “I… I’ve never heard of it.”
After a few seconds, as if recalling something, Moyin quietly added, “But, when Father was still alive, he did mention a place. He called it the ‘Ancient Ritual Site,’ and every time he spoke of it, his tone was… very strange.”
That matches.
Shen Luolin understood in his heart.
It seemed Rheinside hadn’t told his daughter everything—perhaps to protect her, or perhaps because Moyin was still too young, not yet old enough to be entrusted with the family’s deepest secrets.
“Master, why are you asking about this?”
He didn’t expose her, but continued along with her words: “I came to this snowy plain to find it.”
Moyin was stunned, and asked carefully, “Master… why are you looking for it?”
“The Dragon Temple, I need its power to do something.” Shen Luolin lowered his gaze, watching the reflection of fire in the bowl.
Shen Luolin wasn’t lying, just omitting the most crucial part.
The Dragon Temple could indeed enhance dragon-blooded lineage. The Emperor could use it, and naturally, so could Moyin.
As long as Moyin entered the Dragon Temple and successfully absorbed the dragon crystal that Rheinside had entrusted to him, the mission’s progress would surely advance by leaps and bounds.
At the same time, Moyin fell silent.
She recalled the great fire, the cold corpses of her kin, and the Emperor’s cold-hearted Assassination Order.
And this man before her—the one who saved her, taught her, gave her warmth and dignity—his purpose was also tied to the Dragon Temple.
She didn’t want to remain the one cowering behind others, shivering like a burden.
She suddenly lifted her head, silver eyes first flickering with hesitation, then filling with resolve.
Master was going to the Dragon Temple for his own reasons.
But the Dragon Temple, that place her father had always shrouded in secrecy, was clearly also bound to the power of dragonkin.
She didn’t want to remain the one cowering behind others, shivering like a burden.
She didn’t want, once Master found the Dragon Temple and achieved his goal, to still be so weak that she couldn’t even touch the hem of her enemy’s robe.
“Master, please instruct me!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was resolute. “I want to go to the Dragon Temple too! I want to become stronger!”
Good.
That was exactly what Shen Luolin wanted. A sense of crisis was the best catalyst to unleash potential.
He calmly finished the last mouthful of broth in his bowl, the warmth flowing through every limb and bone. He set down the clay bowl, his gaze returning to Moyin, or more precisely, to her tightly clenched fists.
“In that case, what you need most right now is to control the power within you.”
“It is both your curse and your weapon.”
The next few days, the blizzard outside the mine showed no sign of letting up—on the contrary, it grew fiercer. Inside, the atmosphere also changed, turning from gentle warmth to strict severity with a single word from Shen Luolin.
Moyin’s “Training” had officially begun.
Shen Luolin no longer let her merely tend the fire for warmth. He hauled several jagged stones from deep in the mine, tossing them in front of Moyin.
“Go to the entrance. Use your fire to cut them apart. The cut must be smooth, with no signs of scorching.”
That was the first task.
The wind at the cave mouth howled, pelting her with frigid snow and ice. Never mind the flames—anyone standing there too long would freeze solid.
Moyin confidently raised her hand, a swirl of orange dragonflame rising. Yet, when she tried to concentrate it into a line to slice the rock, she discovered it was nowhere near as simple as it seemed.
The wind was like a ghostly hand, snuffing it out again and again.
Even when she managed to light a flame, it was either too scattered—only heating the stone—or too powerful, exploding with a boom, shattering the stone into charred fragments and covering her face in soot.
Gritting her teeth, Moyin gathered the dragonflame at her fingertips once more.
With a soft “pop,” the fire dispersed, leaving only a warm, scorched mark on the hard stone.
Another failure.
Her strength ebbed like the tide, a wave of dizziness washing over her, sweat and dust sliding down her cheek and itching miserably.
She glanced at her Master, sitting cross-legged not far away, not even lifting his eyelids. Stubbornness surged in her chest.
It wasn’t to show off. She just didn’t want to disappoint him.
She closed her eyes, shutting out memories of failure, focusing instead on the sensation of fire flickering in her palm—sometimes wild, sometimes docile.
Her mental focus was sharper than ever; she almost saw golden threads flowing within the flames.
Now!
She snapped her eyes open. A fine, needle-like jet of fire shot out, hissing as it left a shallow yet perfectly smooth cut on the stone!
A powerful wave of weakness swept through her—she nearly collapsed, but seeing that flawless mark, a smile bloomed on her face, unstoppable.
“Master, I… I did it!”
Snowmelt soaked into her threadbare clothes, quickly freezing again, and the stabbing chill set her whole body trembling.
At that moment, a warm blanket was draped over Moyin’s shoulders, shielding her from the wind and snow.
Shen Luolin had appeared behind her at some point.
“First, replenish your strength.” He tightened the blanket around Moyin, his tone unreadable. “Your control over your strength is still crude, and the efficiency is far too low.”
“If you keep training like this, you’ll drain yourself dry before any enemies show up.”
The aroma of roast meat drifted through the cave. Moyin glanced at her frostbitten, uncooperative hands, eyes growing hot, tears nearly spilling out.
Though Master didn’t praise her directly, the warmth on her shoulders and the concern hidden in his stern words made her feel… truly cared for.
She clutched the blanket tighter, letting all her grievances, frustration, and exhaustion melt into new strength with its heat.
She raised her hand again.
“Whoosh—”
This time, the flame in her palm was brighter and steadier than ever before!
With Shen Luolin’s blend of strictness and gentle guidance, Moyin’s growth was astonishing.
She gradually grasped the knack of it. Each time she successfully controlled the dragonflame, she could feel the warm current within her growing fuller and smoother, her body growing lighter, as if breaking through some invisible shackle.
The fire in her palm shifted from the original orange to a brighter hue, and at its heart, a hint of pale gold began to shine through.
In Shen Luolin’s mind, the system’s notifications never ceased.
[Target (Moyin) dragonflame control improved, bloodline purity +0.5%]
[Target (Moyin) dragonflame control improved, bloodline purity +0.8%]
…
He watched the girl’s defiant figure standing in the blizzard, silently calculating the time.
The Dragon Slayer Knights weren’t fools. This unnatural blizzard couldn’t stop them forever.
He needed to maximize Moyin’s bloodline purity before those “colleagues” caught up.
That morning, the storm eased a little.
Moyin stood before a massive block of ice, as tall as a man. She drew a deep breath and pushed both palms forward.
A pillar of golden fire shot from her hands, slamming into the base of the ice.
“Zzzzzz—”
A harsh hiss filled the air as white steam billowed upwards. The rock-hard ice was melted away, opening a huge gap that revealed the dark mineral vein inside.
Breathing hard, Moyin pulled back her hands. Yet her face was radiant with irrepressible excitement and confidence. She turned to look at Shen Luolin in the distance, her silver eyes shining brilliantly.
“Master, look!”
Shen Luolin’s gaze lingered on her, then on the melted ice, finally settling on the faintly flickering pale-gold fire in her palm.
He frowned, so slightly it was almost invisible.
This time, there was no familiar system prompt.
In truth, Shen Luolin had long noticed it—Moyin’s progress was accelerating, but the rate at which her bloodline purity increased was slowing down.
Just training the dragonflame could only take her so far.
As he pondered the next step, his gaze suddenly sharpened, staring into the pitch-black entrance of the cave.
The snow outside hadn’t changed, but the stench of wild beasts in the air had grown stronger without notice.
The campfire’s flames began flickering toward the depths of the cave, as if fearing something.
Moyin sensed it too, and stopped what she was doing.
At that moment—
“Roar—”
A deep, repressed growl echoed from outside, lost in the wind and snow.
The whole mine trembled faintly, pebbles raining down from the ceiling, scattering sparks as they hit the fire.
The air itself seemed to grow heavy.
Moyin’s smile froze. She instinctively gripped the dagger at her waist, eyes wary as she gazed into the endless darkness beyond the cave.
Shen Luolin’s gaze sharpened like a blade at the same moment.
He knew—the days of calm were over.
Right then, the system’s cold prompt sounded in his mind, as if putting a full stop to this brief peace.
[Target (Moyin) bloodline purity has reached 20%, current stage of training has reached a bottleneck]