Xuan Xi continued deeper into the forest, her Perception picking up on something in the cave ahead—a creature of unknown race.
Her steps gradually slowed.
After walking for about ten minutes, a cave entrance appeared before her.
The opening was completely covered by vines.
If that man hadn’t told Xuan Xi about it, she never would have found it.
After pushing the vines aside, a hole was revealed underneath.
A faint chill wind blew out from within, carrying the damp scent of earth and a faint… smell of blood?
She bent down and crawled inside.
The entrance was narrow, barely wide enough for one person to pass through.
The end of the cave opened into a spacious stone chamber.
In the center lay a Beast Tribe member who had already taken human form.
Xuan Xi couldn’t name her kind, but she sensed the other’s aura was remarkably similar to her own—carrying a trace of draconic presence.
A deep wound ran along her right arm, still seeping blood from the edges.
Dark red blood dripped down her forearm onto the rock, pooling into a small “blood pond”—the source of the bloody smell in the cave.
Her right leg was also injured, the scales on her calf torn open, blood flowing without stopping, a gruesome sight.
She leaned weakly against the stone wall, eyes closed, breathing shallowly, her chest barely rising and falling.
Xuan Xi’s footsteps alerted her.
Her eyes snapped open, and her body tensed in the blink of an eye.
Her left arm raised, fingertips gathering a deep blue light, assuming a full defensive stance.
“Who are you?”
Her voice was hoarse, sounding extremely weak.
Xuan Xi didn’t approach.
Instead, she stood still, raising both hands with palms facing toward her in a non-threatening gesture, “Relax, I mean no harm. Besides, you’re injured. You need treatment, don’t you?”
The other woman stared hard at Xuan Xi, left arm still raised in a defensive posture.
Her hands were trembling slightly—a symptom of excessive blood loss.
Xuan Xi could see her face had grown even paler than when she’d first entered, lips cracked and peeling, skin taking on an unhealthy grayish-blue tint—the color that only appeared after massive blood loss.
Her voice remained low, carrying a probing tone,”Are you a local? A Dragon Race living here?”
Xuan Xi replied, “Yes.”
She didn’t correct the other woman.
She was indeed Western Dragon Race, even if not by bloodline, she had grown up on these lands, lived here, studied here, and even found someone she loved here.
“If that wound of yours isn’t treated soon, your right arm will be ruined.”
The woman just kept staring at Xuan Xi, and Xuan Xi didn’t move either.
She knew that anyone—severely injured in an unfamiliar place, suddenly encountering a stranger—would react with wariness first.
It wasn’t personal; it was an instinctive, normal reaction.
“Are you from the Flood Dragon Clan?” Xuan Xi asked.
The woman’s whole body contracted, as if her secret had been discovered.
Her pupils grew narrower and sharper, “You know of the Flood Dragon Clan?”
“I read about it in books. Supposedly one of the major Beast Tribes of the wastelands.”
Her left arm lowered back against the stone wall, her shoulders relaxing as she slumped against the rock like all the air had left her.
“You’re Dragon Race, I’m Beast Tribe. Our two races may appear peaceful on the surface, but border conflicts never stop. Aren’t you afraid?”
Her voice carried a strange tone, as if she was testing whether Xuan Xi feared her.
“Afraid of what?”
Xuan Xi crouched down and pulled a half-empty Healing Potion from her pocket.
“Afraid you’ll eat me? Do you think you could beat me in your current state?”
The Flood Dragon fell silent.
Xuan Xi was right—she was badly injured, less than a tenth of her strength remained, and she couldn’t even stand, let alone fight a young dragon.
Xuan Xi placed the potion bottle on the ground and pushed it toward her, “Here, this is a Healing Potion. Apply it to your wounds. Though I’m not sure if it’ll work on your kind.”
She didn’t take the bottle.
Instead, her gaze settled on Xuan Xi.
“You’re Water Attribute too? I can sense water flowing within your aura—it’s very similar to mine.”
Xuan Xi didn’t answer, pushing the bottle forward a little more, “Treat your wounds first. We’ll talk after.”
She finally picked up the potion bottle.
After pulling out the cork, she poured the liquid onto the wound on her right arm.
A faint sizzling sound rose as the liquid contacted her skin.
Her fingers clenched hard, her whole body shuddering, teeth biting down tightly on her lower lip.
The skin at the wound’s edge began to contract.
The bleeding stopped, but the rolled-back flesh hadn’t healed yet.
Wounds like this couldn’t be closed with just a potion—they needed Spiritual Energy to assist and accelerate regeneration.
Xuan Xi reached out, placing her palm above the wound on her right arm.
Water surged from her palm, transforming into an incredibly fine mist that enveloped the entire wound.
The mist moved as if alive, seeping into the gaps within the wound, attaching itself to the exposed flesh.
The Spiritual Qi contained within the mist permeated the injury, causing the wound to close from both sides toward the center like newly sprouted leaves.
The Flood Dragon didn’t move, allowing the water mist to wrap around her wound, her whole body trembled with faint shock, eyelashes fluttering ceaselessly.
“You’re not a Western Dragon!”
Her voice carried shock, but her tone was no longer as cold as before.
“The Western Dragon’s Water Element doesn’t possess this kind of ability. Their Water Attribute can only be used for assistance and defense—it can’t achieve healing of this level.”
The water mist gradually dispersed.
Xuan Xi withdrew her hand.
The wound on the Flood Dragon’s right arm had already healed by more than half, with newly grown scales covering the wound’s surface.
Though only a thin layer, it was already enough to provide protection.
“Give me your right leg.” Xuan Xi said.
She didn’t extend her leg.
Instead, she stared directly at Xuan Xi and said, “You still haven’t answered my question, little dragon sister.”
Xuan Xi looked into those deep blue eyes, unsure how to respond.
Should she say she was in the Eastern Dragon Race?
That she grew up in the West?
Telling all that to a stranger she’d met less than fifteen minutes ago was simply too absurd.
Besides, she was the one who’d just saved this woman’s life—and yet she was the one being interrogated?
She said, her voice not loud, but her tone firmer than before, “That’s a secret. You don’t need to know.”
The Flood Dragon caught the underlying message and stopped pressing.
She obediently extended her right leg.
The wound on her calf was far more severe than the one on her arm—a deep gash was exposed, the muscles at its edges still twitching slightly.
The water mist reformed and enveloped the wound on her calf.
As Xuan Xi’s Perception extended outward during the healing process, she caught the woman’s Spiritual Energy fluctuations.
They truly were similar to her own, yet not entirely the same.
The Flood Dragon’s Spiritual Energy was wilder and more violent, like a bursting mountain flood carrying mud and gravel surging downward.
Her own was softer and more continuous, like an autumn river—calm on the surface, yet concealing unfathomable depths beneath.
Perhaps this was the difference between the Flood Dragon Clan and the Azure Dragon Clan.
Or perhaps there were deeper secrets hidden within that Xuan Xi had yet to uncover.