“It’s already been a year since the transformation ritual,”
Lu Qiuchen lay flat on the grassland, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the sun.
The sun on Dragon Island was only this warm and vibrant during this season — just a short while basking in it made the whole body feel comfortably toasty.
This place was close to the sea. Listening to the crashing waves against the rocks, lying on the grass while watching great swathes of clouds drift across the sky — it had become Lu Qiuchen’s favorite pastime lately.
It had been two months since Lu Qiuchen hatched.
The very next day after Impat picked her up, the entire silver dragon family gathered to hold a grand banquet to celebrate the addition of a new member. The fish and shrimp in the nearby sea suffered for it.
The adult dragons were especially fond of diamonds and cold-water fish and didn’t care much for the warm-water species near Dragon Island.
Lu Qiuchen also didn’t have much of an appetite, but the other two young dragons hadn’t enjoyed such a feast in ages.
It was around this time that Lu Qiuchen learned she had spent ten months inside the dragon egg.
“You absorbed the bloodline power pretty quickly. The last time a transformation ritual was performed was before I was even born — that sea dragon apparently slept for two whole years,” said a newly adult dragon who refused to reveal their exact age.
Pure-blood dragons could live for nearly ten thousand years. Any dragon under 800 years old was considered a hatchling.
Dragons over 800 were eligible to undergo a trial administered by the Dragon Elders’ Council to qualify for adulthood.
The trial typically involved hunting creatures that posed some threat to hatchlings, but not too much. For most young dragons, this was relatively easy.
Once a hatchling passed the trial, they were considered an adult dragon and could participate in dragon affairs, even qualifying for entry into the Elders’ Council.
To prevent lazy dragons from avoiding the trial even after reaching the age, the council also instituted a salary system — every adult dragon received a wage once every hundred years.
In recent years, most dragons had chosen hills of gold coins and gemstones, which had led to a shortage: the treasure hoards collected by dragonkind from across the world in earlier centuries would only last another thousand years at most.
The Elders’ Council was now considering switching from gold coins to silver.
Such was the timeless outlook of a long-lived species.
Back on topic — after hearing that eight months had passed in the outside world, Lu Qiuchen gave up all hope of returning to Earth.
Her body in the real world had likely already gone up in smoke and moved into a nice little urn by now.
But even so, the doubts in her heart hadn’t faded. If her body in the real world was truly dead, then what exactly was she now? J
ust a string of data on a server? Or was the world of Eternity real, and she had somehow crossed over?
If it was the former… then all her struggles would be meaningless, as her life would depend entirely on the lifespan of a server.
And well, when it came to electronics — might as well just slack off and enjoy each extra day while it lasts.
If it were the latter, then things would be far more intriguing.
If Eternity truly existed as a real world, then what was its connection to the Eternity Group back on Earth? And why, on Earth, did this world exist in the form of an online game?
There wasn’t nearly enough information to go on yet, but Lu Qiuchen still leaned toward the second possibility.
Compared to being reduced to nothing more than a string of digital data, being transported to another world offered at least some hope of returning home.
With this hopeful thought in mind, Lu Qiuchen began to closely observe her surroundings.
The first thing she noticed was the issue of language. As someone born and raised on Earth, she logically shouldn’t be able to understand or speak Draconic.
Yet, the reality before her was that, even without a system interface, she could use both spoken and magical Draconic without difficulty.
This phenomenon turned out to be the result of something like a database that had appeared in her mind.
After cautiously probing other dragons for answers, she learned that all dragons were born with a memory inheritance—which put her at ease.
Whenever she spoke with another dragon and came across a word she didn’t know, that knowledge would automatically surface in her mind, and she’d instantly grasp its meaning.
The second issue was about her abilities. Back when she was still a player, she had no active skills at all. But now, she could effortlessly cast Draconic magic.
Then came a more… delicate discovery. During her first bath after becoming a dragon girl, she found that the two peaks on her chest had developed sensation.
A few other areas that the system had previously marked as sensitive zones were also now… active.
This discovery left her flustered, curious, and just a little shy.
Bit by bit, the evidence continued to pile up—everything pointed to this being a real, alternate world.
The haze of memories faded, and Lu Qiuchen suddenly realized someone was standing beside her. She turned her head and saw a figure she’d met before—it was that blue dragon girl.
The last time they met was probably a year ago, even though she herself only had memories of the past two months.
Seeing that the girl lying on the grass had finally returned to her senses, the blue dragon girl cheerfully plopped down beside Lu Qiuchen, stretching her limbs with ease.
“Hey there! Your name is… um… what was it again…” The blue dragon girl fumbled.
“Lu Qiuchen. Hello, Miss Blue Dragon.” The girl lying on the ground wasn’t the least bit upset about her name being forgotten.
She had a good impression of this lively dragon girl—after all, she was the first person in this world she could properly talk to.
“Lu Qiuchen… mm-hmm, kind of hard to remember, but I’ll definitely get it this time.” The girl laughed awkwardly as she spoke, the aloofness on her face melting away completely.
She still remembered how, at their first meeting, she had mistaken the girl for a cold and aloof ice queen. The two of them had stared each other down with expressionless faces for quite a while.
But after just a few exchanges, the whole act fell apart. Well… to be fair, when she wasn’t talking, she did still look like an icy beauty.
“I said my name is—hey! Are you even listening to me?” Noticing the silver dragon girl spacing out again, the ever-energetic blue dragon girl frowned in annoyance.
With a swift motion, she flipped her body forward and nimbly landed right on top of Lu Qiuchen, straddling her waist.
Her knees pinned the girl’s sides while her arms held her upper body up, palms planted on either side of Lu Qiuchen’s shoulders—a bold, aggressive posture that forced Lu Qiuchen to meet her gaze directly.
Startled by the blue dragon girl’s sudden assertiveness, Lu Qiuchen snapped back to her senses—only to find herself literally being pinned down. Flustered, she awkwardly turned her head aside.
“I’m listening… You can just keep talking…” A faint blush crept up her cheeks. After all, being this close to a beautiful girl—especially one dressed the way she was today—was a little too much to handle.
It seemed like the blue dragon girl had just come from the sea; there was a faint scent of saltwater clinging to her.
Over her sleek black one-piece swimsuit, she wore a thin, semi-transparent cover-up that barely hid her curvaceous figure.
Crystal-clear droplets clung to her pale thighs, while her long, light-blue hair hung damp and clinging to her skin. The slightly wet ends of her hair tickled Lu Qiuchen’s face.
“I’m not called ‘blue dragon girl,’ okay? My name is Feya. Don’t forget it,” the girl said, completely unbothered by her earlier flub.
“Alright. Miss Feya,” Lu Qiuchen replied, still overwhelmed by the forward beauty on top of her.
“Now get off me. Your hair’s tickling my face.”
Once Feya stood up, Lu Qiuchen figured she should stop lying around as well and sat up, asking with some confusion, “So, Miss Feya, did you come here for something?”
“Not really,” Feya said cheerfully. “I’ve just seen you sunbathing here alone several times now.”
Well, that wasn’t too strange. She’d only been a dragon for two months. Including herself, there were only nine silver dragons in total—and two of them weren’t even on Dragon Island at the moment.
As for the rest… Orphe was holed up in his lair in full-on lazy mode, and she hadn’t seen him in over a month.
The twin sisters Andona and Andora had been sent by the Silver Dragon King, Impert, to study human knowledge with the Elders’ Council.
Rumor had it they’d be heading to the Kingdom of Tara soon to broaden their horizons—which really just meant collecting tribute and doing some sightseeing.
The dragons had a very close relationship with Tara, the kingdom on the southern continent.
Long ago, the dragons had signed a covenant with the royal family of Tara: in times of foreign invasion, the dragons would protect the kingdom.
In return, Tara had managed to remain neutral—and survive—throughout the many wars that had ravaged the continent.
Of course, Tara didn’t rely solely on the dragons. Its own national strength ranked among the top on the southern continent.
If they only depended on the dragons, the kingdom might still survive, but what dignity or authority would the royal family have left?
Returning to the topic at hand—of the remaining dragons, two were still juveniles. They spent their days running around with the other dragonlings, rolling in the dirt. Lu Qiuchen couldn’t exactly hang out with them.
Even though one of them was 300 years old and the other 400, their mental development was only on par with human ten-year-olds.
The dragons’ growth was incredibly slow, and their underdeveloped minds made young dragons especially susceptible to brainwashing—especially by the demons.
This kind of situation had disappeared ever since the Northern and Southern Continents joined forces with Dragon Island to drive the demons back into the Demon Realm.
As the most powerful race in the world, if the dragons ever discovered a force attempting to cage or raise dragon hatchlings, that force would meet a tragic end—just like the Samar Empire, which was destroyed in only three days.
As for the last one mentioned—the Silver Dragon King, Impart—Lu Qiuchen was already doing well not to run away from him. She had been receiving his instruction for the past two months.
Impart’s standards for her were strict—so strict that they could even be called harsh—leaving a deep impression on Lu Qiuchen’s young heart.
Her favorite time of day in the past two months had been the noon sunbathing hour.
Thinking of this, Lu Qiuchen glanced at the position of the sun. A hint of urgency appeared on her face.
“Crap, it’s already this late. If I don’t get back soon, I’m going to get punished.”
“I’m off now—there’s still training in the afternoon. Fiya, if you have time, come find me at Dragonvein Peak. You can even wait for me here at noon, I come here every day.” Lu Qiuchen waved to the blue dragon girl to say goodbye.
Before Fiya could respond, Lu Qiuchen activated her magic and leapt into the sky.
A glow enveloped her body as she transformed midair into a sleek and elegant silver dragon, flapping her wings as she flew toward the center of Dragon Island.
Fiya watched the silver dragon as she gradually disappeared into the distance, unconsciously swaying her tail.
“So pretty… next time I see her, I have to touch her tail.”
A streak of white light shot rapidly toward the center of Dragon Island, followed closely by streaks of blue, green, and red light. Young dragons, needing a way to burn off their boundless energy, loved to follow other dragons and race in the skies.
It was one of the most popular forms of entertainment for young dragons on Dragon Island—an activity that tested not just speed, but also how perfectly one could imitate the flight movements of the dragon ahead.
But now, even flying at their fastest, the young dragons were gradually falling behind the silver dragon in front of them. Eventually, her figure vanished completely from their sight.
This had been happening often in the past two months. Although she was also a young dragon, her speed was clearly on another level compared to theirs.
At this point, they no longer bothered trying to mimic her movements during races—they simply did their best to catch up. But even the fastest among them still couldn’t match her pace.
That constant frustration only fueled their competitive spirit.
Over the past two months, they had started training their flight speed on their own initiative—just so they could one day beat that oddly named silver dragon in the daily noon races.
The silver dragon hovered in place above an open clearing at the center of Dragon Island. She looked up at the sky—the timing was just right; she wasn’t late.
Gently landing on the ground, the silver dragon, panting heavily, walked toward Impart, who had just arrived as well.
“Teacher, I’m here.”