Hearing this, Leopold finally let out the breath he had been holding. His knees buckled, and he almost collapsed, but fortunately, Isabella caught his shoulders in time.
“Leo!” Isabella called out, her voice filled with worry.
“I'm fine... just a bit hungry.”
Shirwin stood up straight, her gaze sweeping over the three dragons one by one.
“...Sit down first.” Shirwin drew a small vial from her sleeve and tossed it to Isabella. “This is an elven mana recovery potion. Although its effects are halved on dragons, it's better than nothing.”
Isabella caught the vial, uncorked it, took a sniff, and then held it to Leopold's lips. Leopold did not stand on ceremony and threw his head back to down it.
“Thanks,” he panted.
Shirwin nodded, turned to Ilovina, who was slumping on the ground, and reached out to pull her up.
“Teacher, where are we going next?”
“First, we leave the underground,” Shirwin said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I need to report today's events to the Empire. Someone put a bounty of ten thousand gold coins on your life. This is no longer within the scope of a study trip.”
Ilovina wanted to say something more, but seeing Shirwin's expression, she obediently shut her mouth.
“I myself do not know healing magic, but I can give you some healing potions. If you would, please accept these gold coins as well.”
Shirwin nodded slightly, untied a heavy leather pouch from her waist, and handed it to Isabella.
“Inside are ten elven gold coins, which should also be accepted in the underground world. In addition—” She drew another slender crystal vial from her sleeve, filled with a pale gold liquid. “An advanced healing potion. I only have this one bottle with me right now, so consider it an extra token of my gratitude.”
Isabella took the leather pouch and the crystal vial, glanced down at them, and then turned to Leopold. Only after Leopold gave her a gentle nod did she put the items away.
“Thank you,” Leopold said, straightening his back. “Respected Mage, would it be possible to give us some elven magic books?”
Shirwin paused and looked back at him. A complex mix of emotions flashed through her gray eyes—surprise, scrutiny, and a hint of wariness.
“...Magic books?” Shirwin instantly grew guarded. “Your dragon clan has its own inheritance system. You have no need for elven magic books.”
“I know.” Leopold did not avoid her gaze. “At the risk of sounding foolish, the truth is, I don't actually know how to use magic.”
“...You don't know how to use magic?” she repeated, her tone carrying a subtle hint of disbelief. “That 'Umbra Devorare' you cast earlier was clearly a high-level, short-chant spell of the shadow element—”
“I chanted that purely on instinct...”
Shirwin's gray eyes locked onto Leopold, as if trying to judge whether he was telling the truth.
“...Chanted on instinct?” Shirwin was somewhat skeptical. “Are you telling me you didn't even know what you were chanting?”
“Pretty much,” Leopold nodded honestly. “I can feel magic power flowing, and I can hear the incantation echoing in my mind, but I have no way of actively controlling it.”
Shirwin fell silent.
“Teacher Shirwin,” Ilovina tugged at her robe. “Why don't... we leave that copy of 《Introduction to Basic Magic》 with them? I've already finished reading it anyway.”
Shirwin glanced sideways at Ilovina, then turned back to look at Leopold.
“...You remind me of someone,” Shirwin suddenly said. “A very long time ago, a dragon who couldn't use magic also asked me a similar question.”
Leopold froze for a moment. “Who?”
“I don't remember his name.” Shirwin shook her head. “That was over a thousand years ago. Back then, I was only an Apprentice Mage. While traveling the continent with my mentor, we encountered an injured silver dragon. He didn't know how to use magic either...”
“What happened to him?” Leopold pressed.
Shirwin was silent for a moment. “Later, he died. During the angels' Third Purge.”
The air in the mine shaft seemed to freeze.
Yet, Shirwin suddenly smiled, a faint, quiet sorrow tracing her lips.
“Listen to me, dwelling on things from so long ago...” Shirwin quickly regained her composed demeanor. She turned to Ilovina and pulled a thick, green-covered book from the backpack she was carrying.
“《Introduction to Basic Magic》, an introductory textbook from the elven magic academy. It covers magic power perception, basic guidance, and introductory spells for three types of elements.”
Shirwin handed the book to Leopold. “Although the dragon clan's magic system is different from the elves', the underlying logic of guiding magic power is the same.”
“...Thank you.” He looked down and opened the first page. His eyes met dense elven script, accompanied by detailed diagrams of magic power flow.
“You had better study Elvish first,” Shirwin said. “Otherwise, you won't even be able to read the title.”
Leopold closed the book and solemnly placed it inside his robe. “I will learn it.”
Shirwin nodded and said no more. She slid her silver-white wand into her sleeve, turned, and walked toward the exit of the mine shaft.
Ilovina followed behind Shirwin. After taking a couple of steps forward, she turned back and waved in Leopold's direction. “Mr. Black Dragon, the next time we meet, your magic had better not be too terrible!”
Leopold was momentarily stunned. By then, Ilovina had already turned and caught up with Shirwin, the figures of the two elves quickly disappearing into the light at the mine shaft's exit.
“...I really have to learn Elvish now,” he sighed.
“Hmph,” Blake grunted, leaning against a protruding rock wall, the wound on his left leg still seeping blue blood. “Do you think that elven woman's words can be trusted? Some 'basic introduction'—for all we know, there might be some tracking magic hidden inside.”
“If she wanted to harm us, we would have been dead long ago.” Leopold tucked the book away and looked at Blake's left leg. “How is your injury?”
Blake glanced down and curled his lip indifferently. “Just a flesh wound. It'll heal in a couple of days.”
“Stop acting tough, Blake. Your wound is still bleeding.” Isabella had already taken out the crystal vial.
Blake turned his face away. “I said I don't need—”
“Sit down!” Isabella snapped at Blake, cutting his words short in his throat. He stiffened for two seconds before finally sitting down, thoroughly reluctant.
Isabella uncorked the crystal vial and carefully dripped two drops of the pale gold liquid onto Blake's wound. The moment the liquid made contact with his flesh, it emitted a faint sizzling sound, and the edges of the wound began to contract at a visible rate.
Blake's body tensed imperceptibly, but he said nothing.
“...Thanks,” he muttered under his breath after a long pause.
“Mr. Leopold! Lord Blake! Lady Isabella!”
A rush of hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance of the mine shaft. Gorn ran in, panting heavily, followed by ten fully armed guards.
“Patriarch, why are you here?” Isabella stood up.
Gorn rested his hands on his knees, catching his breath for a few moments before looking up. His gaze quickly swept across the aftermath of the battle in the mine shaft—shattered rock walls, scorched ground, remnants of ice crystals, and dark purple blood stains. His expression shifted.
“...What happened here?”
“It's a long story.” Leopold took a step forward and briefly summarized what had just transpired, from the appearance of the two elves to the attack by the dark elf assassin, and how they had joined forces to repel Carlyle.
After listening, Gorn fell silent for a few seconds. He turned and made a gesture to the guards behind him, who immediately dispersed to investigate the scene.
“...Ten thousand gold coins for an elven princess's life,” Gorn murmured, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This sort of thing should not be happening in my territory.”
“And Carlyle... the Seventh Seat of the Blade Shadow Epic, one of the continent's top assassins. For you to survive his attack is truly no small feat.”
Leopold did not comment on that, merely pulling the copy of 《Introduction to Basic Magic》 from his chest and waving it in front of Gorn. “Let's not talk about that. Patriarch, I need your help with something.”
“What is it?”
“I need an Elvish teacher—because this book is written in Elvish.”
“I will help you find one, Mr. Leopold,” Gorn's expression turned serious. “But before that, there are some things I must tell you.”
He pulled a badge from his chest—the very same one Mia had given him earlier. “That Dragon Slayers organization... they have already begun to make their move...”
Rate on N.U.
