Villanelle wove through the towering bookshelves until she found the *Special Case Regulations* mentioned in the *Regulatory Catalog*.
It was an inconspicuous dark blue booklet tucked away on the bottom shelf, looking as though it hadn’t been touched in a very long time.
‘This thing was such a pain to find.’
She crouched down, pulled out the thin volume, and returned to her table.
Article Seven of the regulations was tedious and long-winded, filled with qualifiers like “provided that” and “in the event of” at every turn. Villanelle spent a long while meticulously parsing the text before she finally grasped the general meaning of the passages.
As long as she could prove that Ignis was safe and possessed research value, it was possible to bring him into the classroom.
However, it would be under layers of restrictions.
The conditions were harsh. It required a commitment of responsibility from Professor Hiram, the submission of a massive amount of observation logs, and for him to wear an academy-issued Control Ring. Furthermore, his range of movement would be strictly limited to the Magical Biology Classroom and related experimental zones, and he would have to be available for inspection by the Safety Committee at any time.
There was another line of even smaller print nearly pressed against the margin of the page:
“…The final authority regarding the approval or denial of the application rests with the Academy Safety Committee and the representatives of the Church.”
‘The Church…’
Father Malvorn’s face, as cold and devoid of warmth as a stone carving, instantly surfaced in Villanelle’s mind. Her fingers tightened unconsciously, causing the edge of the paper to crinkle slightly.
But this was the only way.
Applying for a special case meant placing Ignis under the academy’s watchful gaze. All those scrutinizing eyes, that constant monitoring… could he handle it?
What would he think of her, his “mother,” the moment that Control Ring was fastened around his neck?
Villanelle was filled with worry. Even though Ignis had already expressed his agreement… she was still concerned.
***
When the gray silhouette of the Twilight Tower emerged from the hillside, Villanelle couldn’t help but quicken her pace.
She pushed open the door and climbed the familiar spiral staircase. When she opened her bedroom door, the sight that met her eyes caused her to pause.
Ignis was lying in his little nest just as before, but spread out in front of him was a copy of *St. Tyriel Common Language Basic Reading and Writing*. A quill and a small dish of ink sat beside it.
When he had woken up that morning, he had gestured his request to learn how to read. Villanelle had been confused at first and spent half the morning trying to figure out what he was trying to say.
Seeing this, Villanelle’s gaze softened. She walked quickly to the side of the nest and leaned down, her finger gently pointing to several words on the page accompanied by simple illustrations.
“How are things? How much have you understood?”
Ignis’s dragon claws lightly traced the first few words on the page. He then pointed to his head and nodded at her, signaling that he had learned those words.
This textbook was illustrated, and combined with the logical thinking he retained from studying English in his previous life, understanding them wasn’t difficult.
“That’s wonderful.” The corners of Villanelle’s mouth couldn’t help but turn up as she rubbed his head. But as she thought about what she had to tell him, the curve of her smile was slowly replaced by a flat line.
“Stop for a moment. I need to talk to you about something important.” She stared at Ignis, her facial features tightening slightly.
Ignis sat up and looked directly at her.
Villanelle explained the concepts of “class,” “Suppression Collar,” and the “Safety Committee” in the simplest language possible. Then, she told Ignis what he would face if he chose to go to the classroom.
Limited freedom, eyes everywhere, and a collar that might make him feel betrayed.
As for the anatomical diagrams of Black Dragons recorded in the *Regulatory Catalog*, she didn’t mention a single word. There was no need to bring that up.
“The Suppression Collar is something worn around the neck. It will… restrict your mana and monitor your every move. You will be observed and recorded at all times. There will be no privacy, and you won’t be able to move around freely. And…”
Her voice trembled slightly. She took a breath before forcing the next words out.
“After you put it on, you might feel… betrayed by me.”
Ignis sighed softly and raised a claw to cover Villanelle’s mouth. He had only recently been born, so his claws weren’t sharp yet.
Then, he leaned in, gazing into those ice-blue eyes that were inches away from his own, and nodded with great solemnity.
‘That’s enough. There’s no need to ask anymore.’
He wasn’t a fragile pet that needed to be hidden in a tower forever; he was a sentient being. No matter what, Ignis hoped to help this nominal “mother” in his own way and share her burdens.
Villanelle was stunned.
There was no hesitation or complaint in Ignis’s molten-gold eyes—only a type of resolve that was almost human.
In an instant, Villanelle realized she might have made a mistake.
She had always treated Ignis as a hatchling that needed protection. But the life standing before her had shown intelligence far beyond that of a common beast from the moment he cracked his shell.
“Thank you.” Villanelle wanted to say more, but those two words were all she could manage.
Next, she had to begin preparing the materials to apply for the special case permit.
The core elements of the application were clearly stated in the *Regulatory Catalog*: detailed observation logs, an analysis of behavioral deviation, and a commitment of responsibility from a high-ranking biology professor.
‘I’ll start with the observation logs.’
Villanelle sat at her desk and pulled a fresh sheet of Frost Paper from a stack with uneven edges. She spread it out, flattened it, and then poured ink from a bottle to dip her quill.
‘A detailed record… Starting from when? After he hatched?’
Today was only the second day since the little guy had hatched. Many details were still clearly imprinted in her mind.
Villanelle closed her eyes, letting herself sink into her memories.
On that night at Dragon Cliff, when the shell of the dragon egg shattered, his first movement was a curious look around. Then, he had walked clumsily toward her and reached out with two paws.
There had been no wary hissing or investigative attacks. He hadn’t displayed the “high degree of vigilance toward unknown entities” mentioned in the *Regulatory Catalog*.
On that first night, even though the little guy was hungry, he hadn’t thrown a tantrum. He had stayed quietly in her arms and even took the time to help her light the fireplace.
When being fed, he behaved with extraordinary restraint, like the most docile herbivore.
When it came time to sleep, he slept soundly in the nest she made of old clothes and blankets. He showed no signs of insecurity whatsoever, seemingly treating this place as his new home.
Villanelle opened her eyes, her quill dancing rapidly across the paper.
She needed to write down as many details as possible and then reorganize them using more formal academic language.
As she wrote, Villanelle’s pen paused. She suddenly realized something she hadn’t seriously considered before.
If one stripped away his appearance as a Black Dragon, the behavior Ignis had shown so far was virtually indistinguishable from that of a clever and sensible young child.
He was obedient, he could learn, he remained quiet, and he could express concern.
A doubtful thought slid through Villanelle’s mind like a strand of cold spider silk.
‘Are normal Black Dragons this smart?’
But the thought was quickly brushed aside and tossed to the back of her mind.
Regardless of whether the little guy was normal or if he even was a Black Dragon at all, it didn’t matter. He would always be her family; that was one thing that would never change.
Moreover, this was the very “abnormality” necessary for the special case application…
The shadows outside shifted quietly, and before she knew it, the sun had moved to the center of the sky.
Villanelle finally stopped writing and rubbed her aching wrist and neck.
Five or six sheets of Frost Paper filled with writing were now stacked in front of her. However, this was only the preliminary framework. She still needed to describe it all in academic terms to make the report look less crude.
She turned her head to look outside.
The weather was clear, and the sunlight poured down without reservation, outlining the distant palaces in a brilliant glow.