Enya stood at the door, letting the cool breeze wash over her for quite some time before she finally mustered the resolve to turn the doorknob.
After stepping inside, she gently closed the door behind her, doing her best not to make a single sound — as if afraid of waking a sleeping little one.
She tiptoed to the bedside and climbed onto it.
Reaching out, she touched the smooth, pale golden shell of the dragon egg and whispered softly:
“You’ve grown so big already.”
After absorbing enough magic, the dragon egg was now over fifty centimeters long — not much different from the eggs of large magical beasts.
The baby inside, little Rosily, was currently asleep and didn’t react to Enya’s touch.
Through their bloodline resonance, Enya could sense that Rosily was sleeping soundly and sweetly.
She had woven a pleasant dream of childhood for Rosily — one where the little one grew up with her mother by her side.
Though their life wasn’t wealthy, they had enough to eat and wear, and even room for a little joy and spirit.
In the dream, her mother Phil ran an herbal shop outside.
She worked until dusk each day and occasionally brought home delicious cakes for Rosily.
Rosily also had a few friends — they chased butterflies, caught small animals, and lived carefree lives for a long while… until news came of a dragon attack.
Though Rosily never actually saw the dragon, her mother Phil still took her and left their hometown.
They blended into a crowd of refugees and parted ways with their childhood friends.
After a long and winding journey, they finally arrived at Redpine City in the north and settled there.
Now lying in bed, Enya gazed at the large dragon egg, her mind full of questions.
Though she often said she was “hatching the egg,” how was one supposed to hatch it?
A dragon egg surely couldn’t be treated the same as an ordinary egg.
The thought plunged Enya into deep contemplation.
She squinted slightly, and after a moment, something in her mind seemed to click.
Her eyes lit up.
Turning her body to face the egg, Enya stretched out her arms and then draped herself over it.
The posture felt a bit ridiculous to her — but wasn’t this how eggs were hatched?
Between strands of her silver hair, her ears glowed red with embarrassment.
She adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable.
Her tail flicked the blanket over them, leaving only her head peeking out.
Closing her eyes, Enya focused inward on her magic core — a layered structure of eight folds, each etched with ancient script.
She shifted her attention to the chaotic bundle of primal magic within Rosily.
If Enya’s core was like a sun, Rosily’s was barely a speck of dust — not even formed enough to be called a planet.
“If a bird’s egg hatches with warmth,” Enya thought, “then a magical creature like a dragon probably needs magic to catalyze its growth.”
With that in mind, she began trying to guide the primal magic inside Rosily.
It offered no resistance — perhaps due to their shared bloodline?
Under her careful direction, Rosily’s chaotic energy slowly began to spin in an orderly fashion.
After much effort, that primal energy condensed into a radiant, golden magic core.
Between the fourth and fifth magical stages lies the Heaven’s Gate — the threshold where a core is formed.
Those with strong bloodlines can assist their offspring in this process, making it relatively easy, just like Enya was doing now.
But Commonbloods must rely solely on their own strength.
Once the core was complete, Enya sensed Rosily’s aura grow stronger.
“So that’s how it works…”
Enya was surprised at first, then quickly pieced it together.
The growth of magical creatures was tied directly to the growth of their magic!
To hatch a dragon egg, the mother had to provide primal power, helping the baby develop to a certain point.
Once strong enough, the little one could break out of the shell on their own.
In other words, as long as the dragon mother was willing to give, the dragon child could be born with the power to devastate the world.
Once Enya realized this, she bit her lip hard.
She had already made up her mind — laid down her sword, and laid down her past.
Her eighth-tier magic core?
If it was gone, so be it.
What was there to hesitate about anymore?
Enya began wholeheartedly assisting her little Rosily in forming her magic core.
From then on, she rarely left the house.
She poured all her time into hatching the egg.
As her own primal magic grew thinner by the day, the egg baby grew rapidly.
Thanks to the illusionary dream world that blanketed reality, “Mrs. Phil” still appeared to be living a normal, peaceful life in the eyes of others.
No one could perceive anything unusual about the house.
Days passed one after another.
Then, early one morning, a month later—
“Whew…”
Enya slowly opened her eyes.
Her entire body was drenched in sweat, and the pride that usually shone in her golden-red vertical pupils had vanished — leaving behind only utter exhaustion.
In that moment, she had truly lost everything.
Her eighth-tier magic core… was gone.
She hadn’t left anything for herself.
Over twenty years of cultivation and power — all given to little Rosily.
As the mystical “umbilical cord” connecting them finally snapped, an overwhelming surge of raw magic erupted from the dragon egg beneath Enya’s body.
The blast sent her flying, slamming her into the wall before she crashed hard onto the floor.
The house shook from the force of the magic outpouring.
The bed was shattered by the blast, and amid the swirling dust, the dragon egg — glowing with a powerful golden light — split open with a loud crack.
Enya, battered and disoriented, struggled to get up from the floor.
When she looked again, the crack in the egg had widened dramatically.
The shell was breaking apart under the pressure of its own magic.
She caught sight of a pale golden glimmer — and without thinking, she pushed through the magical turbulence and moved toward it.
Nestled in the broken fragments of the eggshell was a tiny body, curled up.
Pale golden hair clung wetly to her soft, pink skin.
From within the girl’s golden hair poked a pair of small, pink-white horns.
Just like Enya, she also had a white dragon tail.
But unlike Enya, the girl’s arms and legs were covered in silvery-white scales, her hands and feet shaped into dragon claws.
She had pointed ears, and a pair of undeveloped wings grew from her back.
Enya’s heart pounded in her chest.
She bit her lip and pulled out a vial of bright red magic potion, pouring it carefully over Rosily’s body.
The red liquid turned into glowing threads, slithering across Rosily’s back before burrowing into her skin.
The girl’s overflowing magic gradually calmed.
Eventually, all traces of magic disappeared from her body.
Her half-human, half-dragon form slowly transformed into that of a normal human girl.
Enya had sealed Rosily’s bloodline — and the newly-formed eighth-tier magic core.
She gently scooped the girl into her arms.
Rosily’s sleepy eyes fluttered open just a sliver. She took her first breath — then softly spoke:
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
A rare flush of red crept across Enya’s face.
Tftc!
Aaaa~😖