Inside the oval-shaped space, a tiny embryo writhed slowly, enveloped in dark red fluid.
The crimson liquid gradually seeped into the embryo, coursing beneath its translucent skin. As it flowed, the embryo slowly began to expand.
No one knew how much time had passed, but eventually the red fluid was depleted, and the once-growing “embryo” finally stabilized in shape.
Lu Qiuchen felt her mind hazy and sluggish, her thoughts heavy. She tried to force her eyes open, but her body remained completely unresponsive.
‘In the game… undergoing… transformation… Dragon ritual… this… could be… the reason… for the situation…’
She struggled to recall what had happened before, but her sluggish mind could only manage fragmented thoughts.
What kind of technology could create such an effect? A mere hardware device was somehow suppressing her cognitive functions and completely disabling her control over her body.
The terrifying implications made her deeply uneasy about Eternity Group. If this technology advanced any further, wouldn’t it be possible to control someone’s mind and body at will?
She called out to the system in her heart—but there was no response.
Countless fragmented memories began to surface in her mind, further scrambling her thoughts. Her perception of time became warped, and she had no way of telling how long had passed.
But gradually, as the jumbled memories played out, her thoughts began to clear. She could feel herself regaining some control over her body—an exciting realization that filled her with anticipation.
The first thing she noticed was the hard surface beneath her—uncomfortable, but a sign that sensation was returning.
Soon after, she was able to wiggle her toes, just a little at first. But with continued effort, the movement grew stronger.
Before long, she had full control over her limbs, and her eyes fluttered open.
Darkness greeted her. Lu Qiuchen stretched out her curled-up body and staggered to her feet, feeling around carefully. She eventually confirmed she was inside a sealed space.
Am I inside an egg?
She had suspected as much. After all, dragons were supposed to be born from dragon eggs. If this followed the typical novel logic, the next step should be breaking out of the shell, right?
She clenched her fists and took up a stance to smash the obstacle in front of her—when she suddenly noticed something unusual behind her.
Something back there seemed to be moving in sync with her thoughts, causing subtle shifts in her balance.
Is that… a tail?
Lu Qiuchen froze for a moment.
When she had selected her character, the half-dragon race did come with a tail—but it was purely cosmetic, not something players could control.
In the default setting, a half-dragon’s tail simply hung behind them. It would change slightly based on the player’s movement, but that was all calculated and animated by the system.
Even if someone tugged or squeezed it, there was no real sensation. The tail was light, barely noticeable—more like a silicone toy dangling from your back.
The same went for the horns on her head—they were decorative. Touching them only produced the sensation in her hands.
Even if she headbutted the ground, only the scalp around the base of the horns would feel any pressure.
She had already tested all this out back when she was still just a curious player.
This sensation was definitely different!
The slender dragon tail behind her playfully swirled about, flicking side to side under her instinctual control, making faint pa-pa sounds as it struck her right leg.
Lu Qiuchen twisted to glance back, but in the dim light she could only make out a blurry shadow shifting. The thought stop the tail surfaced in her mind, and the tail immediately went rigid.
She reached her right hand behind to gently feel it. The densely packed tiny scales felt slick to the touch. As she slid her palm along the smooth surface, she grasped the cool tail tip.
Unlike the old smooth half-dragon tail, this one’s tip resembled a ship’s anchor—its final vertebra split backward, forming a shape similar to a hunting arrowhead.
She moved on to touch her horns. Compared to the tail, the horns were far more sensitive. The tingling sensation that shot through her at the touch made her pull away immediately.
Suppressing the odd feelings rising inside her, Lu Qiuchen focused on how to break the egg.
*****
Dragon Island Core. Dragonvein Peak.
Dragonvein Peak was the tallest mountain on Dragon Island and in the entire world of Eternity, standing over 5,000 meters above sea level.
The average temperature at its summit remained below minus 50 degrees Celsius year-round. Even during the hottest season, it never rose above minus 35.
This environment was a true death zone for nearly all known lifeforms.
Atop one of the peaks near Dragonvein Peak stood a massive dragon egg—three meters tall and two meters in diameter.
A temperature-regulating magic array surrounded the egg, covering the entire mountaintop. The barren rock beneath was exposed, in stark contrast to the thick snow blanketing the adjacent peaks.
The elevation appeared lower by comparison, and this bare stone formed the only splash of color in an otherwise pure white world.
This scene had remained unchanged for nearly a year.
Suddenly, a crack appeared in the center of the dragon egg. After a brief pause, the crack spread. More cracks formed, quickly turning into gaps, until finally, the central shell shattered.
From the broken egg emerged a figure—Lu Qiuchen, now reborn as a silver dragon through the bloodline transformation ritual.
The ritual hadn’t just changed her race—there were subtle changes to her appearance as well.
The most obvious was her height. Originally, Lu Qiuchen had fantasized about crafting a tall, beautiful girl to serve as her virtual girlfriend.
But since the height difference didn’t match her real-world body, she had given up and chosen a petite frame instead.
Then there were the horns. What had once been straight and cute had now become… slightly inward-curving and still cute.
Fate had given her another chance. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in control this time—but oddly enough, it had fulfilled her original dream.
Barefoot, she stepped onto the ground once more. From this elevated perspective—much taller than her real-life self—Lu Qiuchen’s tail swished gleefully behind her.
She suspected the tail had a mind of its own, always showing a personality that didn’t quite match hers.
It wasn’t like she was wagging her tail because she was thrilled to breathe freely after lying motionless for so long!
Lu Qiuchen wiggled her toes, suddenly remembering something, and looked down at the newbie outfit the system had given her.
The entire outfit was caked in a brown filth that resembled dried blood. When she reached out to touch the sleeve, the surface felt rough and uneven.
Her long-sleeved shirt was in tatters—the bottom half had long since vanished, leaving behind a few stubborn strips of cloth barely clinging on.
They couldn’t even cover her pale little belly button. Her pants were ripped full of holes, both legs torn to shreds. Her shoes and socks were nowhere to be found.
She had been barefoot this whole time, standing directly on the rock.
“System!” Lu Qiuchen called out in her mind again. There wasn’t any noticeable smell, but wearing these rags still made her uncomfortable. She was practically about to flash someone—was it too much to ask for a change of clothes?
But the system remained silent. Lu Qiuchen was starting to panic. No matter how she tried to summon it, that semi-transparent interface never reappeared.
*****
Elder Council Chamber
Alduin convened a small meeting, open only to dragon kings.
“My surveillance array detected Lu Qiuchen’s awakening. It’s time to activate the ‘Savior’ plan.”
“Is this really necessary? She used to be half-human. Assigning her this kind of mission would be far too cruel.”
“Calmer, have you forgotten what you once were? Feeling sympathy for those insects now—how laughable,” came another voice.
“The moment she chose to become a dragon, she had to accept what came with it. You can’t change the world if you cling to narrow racial ideals.”
“And yet everything you do is for the benefit of dragons alone. To speak of abandoning racism is rich, coming from you,” the earlier voice retorted.
“This is a win-win situation. If she truly considers herself a dragon, she’ll have no reason to object.”
“That’s enough. This is the dragons’ last chance. The other two factions are watching closely. We must make sure this remains under dragon control.” Alduin’s command silenced the room.
“Impart, since she belongs to your clan, I’ll leave this task to you.”
*****
Night had fallen, and snow began to pour. Lu Qiuchen curled back up inside the egg, hugging her arms around herself.
She watched the snowflakes fall through the broken shell, only to dissolve the moment they touched the magic array.
No system meant no way to log out of the game. Was she really going to be trapped here forever?
Without the system… how was she ever going to return to the real world?
There was no system.
If she died in the game, would she really die?
Without the system, was this world still just a game?
Without her consciousness, what would happen to her body in the real world?
Without a body, would her consciousness also die here once her physical form perished in reality?
Lu Qiuchen’s mind was a mess. She imagined countless possibilities for the future—
That she might never see her parents again.
That she would lose her family, her friends, her classmates. That she would never finish her studies…
She thought of so, so many things. And in the end, she still clung to the hope that this was all just a cruel prank played by the game company.
That if she just called out to the system once more…
That familiar, comforting interface would appear again.
*****
Late at night, after the council had adjourned, Impart came to the mountaintop where Lu Qiuchen lay.
His massive form made it impossible to land directly, so he transformed mid-air and descended in human form before the broken eggshell.
Peering inside through a jagged gap, he saw the girl lying curled up at the bottom of the shell.
Her tear-streaked face was turned downward.
Her legs were drawn close to her chest, arms folded tightly against her torso, and her tail had curled forward across her hips and around her thighs—
A posture only seen in young dragons when they lacked a sense of safety.
She was asleep.
Impart sighed quietly. The temperature-controlling magic array surrounding the shell dissipated into the air.
He cast a soundproof barrier around the shell, gently lifted it with magic, and transformed once more into a great dragon in mid-air, flying off toward the neighboring peak.
With a flick of his tail, he struck the mountain beside him.
Instead of a landslide or crumbling cliffs, the snow covering the peak scattered under the force of the gust, revealing a massive silver dragon deep in slumber.
The tail swipe sent the silver dragon sliding several meters across the mountain. Her sleep shattered, she instantly shot up, livid with rage.
Her four claws propped her up as magical energy surged in her throat—ready to unleash a breath attack on the idiot who’d interrupted her dream.
Before she could, Impart spun again, delivering a second tail swipe.
This time, the silver dragon was flung straight off the mountaintop.
She flailed in the air, unfurled her wings just in time to stabilize herself, narrowly avoiding a plummet down the cliffside that might’ve triggered an avalanche.
“Andora.”
“You can’t even take proper care of your own little sister—it’s about time you got some real-world experience.”
“I’ll consider your name for the Tarra mission slot.”
Tftc