That morning had been so eventful that by the evening, Zhao’er was still watching Morpheus head downstairs to fetch food. Feeling restless and eager to play, Zhao’er habitually leaned against the window. As he stared outside, a sudden realization hit him—

Wait a second.

Why was he still hiding?

He could already transform into a human!

With excitement bubbling in his chest, Zhao’er tapped the button in his system menu, half-expecting some dramatic special effects. But nothing flashy happened.

A thin layer of mist dissipated, and Zhao’er instantly felt his perspective shift as his view got higher. He also noticed a cool sensation across his skin. Before he could fully grasp what had happened, the sound of a key turning in the door snapped him to attention.

Morpheus was back.

When Morpheus looked at Zhao’er, he froze for a moment before swiftly shutting the door. Before Zhao’er could even say a word of greeting, Morpheus whipped off his coat and tightly wrapped it around Zhao’er.

Oh.

So that’s why he felt cold—he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

Zhao’er had become so accustomed to his dragon form, where his scales were exposed to the elements, that he didn’t think much of the breeze brushing against him. Adjusting to a human body would take some time.

Belated embarrassment crept up on him, his face flushing bright red all the way to his neck. Anyone unaware of the situation might think he was deliberately being indecent.

The scene was a little awkward, but Zhao’er’s discomfort vanished entirely when he noticed the tips of Morpheus ears were also burning red. Despite being so much older than him, Morpheus seemed almost reluctant to look directly at him.

Was his human form unattractive? Zhao’er reached up to touch his face. He thought it was fine—two eyes, one nose, and a mouth.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asked bluntly.

---

The truth was, Morpheus had looked.

Zhao’er’s human form had very pale pink hair, with slightly darker pink tips. Indoors, his hair might appear silver-white, but under the sunlight, the soft pink hue became more apparent, matching the color of his scales in his dragon form.

His hair was exceptionally long, nearly reaching his ankles, and so silky it resembled the finest satin. Some strands lightly floated in the air, affected by the surrounding elemental energy.

Zhao’er’s eyes were the same deep pink as in his dragon form—like a pair of sparkling pink gemstones. His lashes, however, caught Morpheus off guard, as they were an unusual silvery-white, adding to his ethereal charm.

His complexion was as fair as jade, his skin like pristine snow.

Morpheus found his breath catching the moment he looked at him.

He had always imagined Zhao’er’s human form would be stunning, considering how adorable he was even in his dragon shape. But seeing him now exceeded anything Morpheus had envisioned.

No matter how much mental preparation Morpheus had done,

the moment his eyes fell upon Zhao’er, his heart couldn’t help but tremble.

Every part of Zhao’er was flawless—from his slender, fair fingers to even the perfectly shaped toes, which glowed faintly with a soft pink hue.

In his human form, Zhao’er looked nothing like a dragon from the depths of the abyss.

Instead, he resembled something out of legend… an elf!

Zhao’er still wasn’t entirely accustomed to his current state. When Morpheus called his name, he tilted his head slightly out of habit, just like before.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

It was an innocent, naive look, completely unaware of how endearing and heart-melting it was.

---

Zhao’er had no idea how Morpheus saw him. As Morpheus suspected, he wasn’t quite used to his current form yet. After all, as a dragon, he could sprawl anywhere or curl up comfortably.

Now, suddenly being in human form felt a little unnatural.

After standing for only a short while, he already felt tired.

He instinctively wanted to curl up, but it was obvious that his human body couldn’t form the snug, oval shape of his little pink dragon form.

As a baby dragon, he’d often thought about how amazing it would be to have a human form. But now that he had it, Zhao’er realized it wasn’t all that great.

In his human state, Zhao’er’s new skin was incredibly delicate, far less resilient than his dragon scales. Even wearing Morpheus coat felt a bit uncomfortable—like coarse sandpaper scraping against him.

And since he hadn’t walked on two feet in so long—spending most of his time being carried by Morpheus or flying with his wings—even taking a few steps made his feet ache.

So, still wrapped in Morpheus coat, Zhao’er instinctively stretched out his arms toward him. Just as he had done before when he was tired of flying, he naturally expected Morpheus to carry him.

It wasn’t until the very last second—when Morpheus actually approached him—that Zhao’er realized something new about their contract.

He could hear Morpheus… thoughts?

Even though Morpheus hadn’t spoken a word,

Zhao’er distinctly heard his voice in his mind.

“…Ah…”

That’s when it dawned on him.

Oh no… this blasted muscle memory!

How utterly embarrassing.

Zhao’er coughed lightly and awkwardly transformed his outstretched arms into a casual stretch, pretending he hadn’t just asked Morpheus to carry him. It was just a stretch, nothing more.

Or so he tried to play it off.

“…”

The next moment, he heard Morpheus thoughts again.

—I really want to hug Zhao’er.

However, being in human form wasn’t all bad—one of the biggest perks was that Zhao’er could finally go out and play openly! That alone was enough to make up for all the earlier awkwardness and mishaps.

The addition of a handsome young man in Morpheus room didn’t go unnoticed by the other members of the Mage Association. No one knew how Morpheus explained Zhao’er’s presence, but it seemed like they simply assumed Zhao’er was an elf.

Zhao’er was very sensitive to human gazes. Even if he had his head lowered, he could still feel whenever someone was looking at him. If those stares could become tangible, he figured he’d be riddled with holes by now.

The princess, who had been taken care of earlier, was now being escorted away by a group of soldiers.

Before leaving, she managed to break free and walked straight toward Zhao’er, who was casually watching the commotion. Once again, she asked if she could stay, and once again, Zhao’er gave her the same answer as before.

Perhaps because of how his father and mother interacted at home, Zhao’er had developed a bit more patience when dealing with women. In a gentle tone, he persuaded her to return to her own world, explaining that the outside world wasn’t suitable for her and was far too dangerous.

“…Then… could you at least tell me your name…?”

Zhao’er refused her again.

The fact that the princess liked him was something Zhao’er hadn’t anticipated.

The first time he dined in the hall in his human form, he overheard whispers from people speculating about who he was. Even though a large hood obscured most of his face, beauty wasn’t solely judged by facial features.

His overall demeanor, the soft glow of his pale wrists—all of it revealed that he was undoubtedly a strikingly handsome young man. At the time, he was wearing clothes that Morphis had personally crafted for him.

The fabric, he later learned, was exceedingly rare, with extremely stringent harvesting conditions. It was a luxurious material, renowned not only for its extraordinary softness but also for its exorbitant price.

But only such fabric could prevent Zhao’er’s new, delicate skin from feeling chafed.

At first, Zhao’er didn’t know the fabric’s value and had only joked about feeling like the “Princess and the Pea.” When he eventually learned how expensive it was, he was stunned for a good while.

“Wait… so… you’re actually rich?”

Morpheus didn’t directly confirm. “Just a little.”

In any case, there was no way Morphis would let Zhao’er’s delicate skin be rubbed raw by rough materials.

Later, when Zhao’er finished his meal and went upstairs, he bumped into the princess, who seemed to have been about to come down to find him. She was dressed in a lavish gown, clearly having put a lot of effort into her appearance. Their eyes met immediately.

“Can I talk to you?”

This was the first time the princess spoke to Zhao’er.

She immediately recognized that Zhao’er wasn’t an elf—he was the dragon from that day. She also knew it was Zhao’er who had healed her injuries. She said he was different from the dragons she had read about and that she found him very kind. Finally, blushing deeply, she asked if he could take her with him…

Zhao’er: …

What the heck? The princess, who was supposed to fall for the main protagonist, was now confessing to the villainous dragon instead?? He hadn’t outright rejected her at the time—he had been too shocked to respond properly.

It seemed that women in this world were much bolder…

They had barely exchanged a few words when Morpheus emerged from the room with a less-than-pleased expression and pulled Zhao’er away. He informed the princess that the soldiers assigned to escort her would arrive in two days.

---

Zhao’er’s innate talent awakened very suddenly. In fact, it had already been awakened for some time, but Zhao’er simply hadn’t paid much attention to it. However, it wasn’t the offensive skill he had dreamed of—it turned out to be a decidedly uncool healing ability.

Zhao’er, who had absolutely no interest in being a “healer,” had always aspired to be a damage dealer. When he discovered his innate talent was healing, he was dejected for quite a while. His emotions were written all over his face, as he had no ability to hide them.

It wasn’t until Morpheus mentioned that healing abilities were the rarest of all that Zhao’er reluctantly began to accept his skill. Once he came to terms with it, the first thing he did was give his magic a name.

In fact, Zhao’er could release his abilities directly without any fuss, but he insisted on chanting a spell first because he felt it made him seem more powerful. He even gave most of his attacks impressive and catchy names.

His first healing target was none other than the princess, who had fainted in fright earlier.

A few days after the princess was reluctantly taken away by the soldiers, Zhao’er had already explored all the fun places nearby. He and Morpheus then set off for their next destination—a place called the City of Wind!

This wasn’t part of their original itinerary.

Having seen glimpses of his future through the new script, Zhao’er knew where he was supposed to go and what he was supposed to do later. Refusing to follow that path, he decided to do the opposite, visiting all the places that the new script had overlooked.

Morpheus went along with him.

Along the way, Zhao’er’s striking appearance and innocent behavior caused countless incidents. Unfamiliar with the world, Zhao’er believed almost everything people told him.

This kept Morpheus constantly on high alert, staying by Zhao’er’s side at all times. Many problems that could be quietly resolved were handled discreetly by the human knight, ensuring the naïve young dragon remained blissfully unaware.

Zhao’er, for his part, remained entirely unbothered. He never seemed to consider that anyone might target him, nor did he make any effort to hide the unusual aspects of himself.

They journeyed through perilous valleys, verdant and tranquil lakes, and century-old ruins with contrasting styles—places Morpheus had visited before but found rather unremarkable.

This time, however, simply having Zhao’er by his side brought these once bland landscapes to life.

On a vast prairie, Zhao’er ran with abandon, his laughter echoing into the distance. Morpheus trailed behind, his gaze irresistibly drawn to Zhao’er. It felt like this was how the boy was meant to be—laughing freely, his thoughts and eyes equally clear and pure.

The braids Morpheus had woven into Zhao’er’s hair had come undone again, and Morpheus patiently redid them. He wasn’t particularly skilled at braiding hair, having no prior experience, but he was willing to learn.

Given his aptitude, after mastering a few basic braid styles, he was able to create unique designs of his own. He even adorned Zhao’er’s hair with a few flowers.

“Isn’t it done yet?!”

Zhao’er, impatient as ever, began urging him again after sitting still for only a moment.

“Almost…”

Sitting before him, Zhao’er hummed a tune. The melody was unfamiliar to Morpheus, but it was cheerful and the lyrics were catchy:

“There’s a magical castle, they say,
Where a queen holds the ultimate sway.
Every fairy guided by her hand,
Dreams of a world that’s more grand.
Big or small, such wonders to behold,
With a single spell or rune foretold.”

Zhao’er’s boundless curiosity kept him restless.

He would scale mountains for a single legendary flower or stay awake all night just to watch a sunrise.

Though along the way, they did encounter some persistent troublemakers.

Despite Morpheus exceptional skills in concealing their movements, he couldn’t entirely counteract the attention drawn by Zhao’er’s flamboyant presence.

Everywhere they went, they left behind tales and anecdotes.

---

The first to notice Brule’s pursuit was, of course, Morpheus.

Brule hadn’t died, as expected. Those who made deals with dark gods rarely escaped unscathed. He was suffering from the backlash—constant, excruciating pain that gnawed at his bones. This torment had left him gaunt, making him look like a ghost crawling out of the shadows.

His eyes were fixed on Zhao’er, and under such a gaze, Zhao’er could hardly remain unaware.

Spending more time among humans had sharpened Zhao’er’s ability to decipher the intent behind their stares. He could now discern whether they held malice, admiration, or simple curiosity.

Brule’s gaze, however, remained as disturbing as ever. It carried a sticky, repugnant desire that made Zhao’er feel as though Brule’s eyes were licking every inch of his body. Even the most unfriendly of other stares were never as perverse as his.

It was as though Brule were afflicted with some peculiar sickness. Last time, he disguised himself as a helpless old woman; this time, he played the role of a wounded and downtrodden young man.

The emaciated youth had a face speckled with freckles, dry and split brown hair, and an obviously malnourished appearance. His voice was hesitant and timid, giving the impression of someone entirely non-threatening—if one could ignore his eyes.

Recognizing this all-too-familiar scene, Zhao’er frowned slightly.

“…Sigh, Morpheus, I finally understand why villains in stories are always so disgusting…”

Morpheus reached up to brush the stray hairs from Zhao’er’s ear.

“Can you wait here for a moment?”

It was clear he intended to handle the matter alone.

But Zhao’er didn’t think this was solely Morpheus problem. Their bond had grown deeper during their travels, and the contract between them only reinforced their connection. Zhao’er now saw Morpheus as one of his own—his little brother.

And as the elder brother, it was only natural for him to protect his younger sibling.

After gaining confidence from a prior real battle, Zhao’er’s self-assurance swelled to the point where he genuinely believed he could take on that maniac.

---

To be fair, Zhao’er wasn’t entirely wrong. With his overwhelming physical advantage, even without much finesse or technique, his sheer size and raw strength alone made him virtually unbeatable by any human.

Though not yet fully grown, Zhao’er was more than capable of handling humans. His razor-sharp teeth and claws were far from decorative, and even low-level magic arrays couldn’t pierce his scales, much less cause him pain.

That said, there were always possibilities beyond his imagination. There could be someone out there who, with enough determination and preparation, might set a trap or forge a weapon specifically designed to counter his attributes. While unlikely, the chance wasn’t zero.

Eager for revenge, Zhao’er deliberately chose a more open area to avoid restricting his movements, ready to face Brule. However, he still underestimated Brule’s level of depravity.

There was no need for Zhao’er to lure him in; Brule followed him willingly, as if mesmerized. It was clear Brule had an unsettling fixation on Zhao’er’s dragon form, his gaze burning with an almost fanatical intensity.

When Zhao’er’s massive claws finally stomped down on Brule, there was a sickening crunch of breaking bones. The sound was unmistakable—bones snapping. His injuries were obvious and severe.

And yet, Brule’s face was flushed, as if he couldn’t feel the pain at all. On the contrary, strange noises escaped his lips, and he gazed at Zhao’er with obsessive admiration. His hands tenderly caressed the pink dragon’s scales, as if handling a precious treasure.

Brule didn’t resist at all. If Zhao’er hadn’t misheard, Brule even seemed to be… encouraging him to continue.

This left Zhao’er utterly bewildered and frustrated, like punching into soft cotton. What he thought was an attack, an act of harm, was instead being received as enjoyment by the other party.

It left Zhao’er caught in an awkward limbo—continuing felt wrong, yet stopping was no better.

To make matters worse, Brule wouldn’t die.

In the end, it was Morpheus who stepped in to deal with the situation. While Brule seemed to revel in Zhao’er’s strikes, his attitude shifted dramatically when facing Morpheus. Brule’s gaze turned to one of pure disdain.

“How unfortunate… I really didn’t want you to dirty your hands because of him,” Morpheus remarked to Zhao’er.

Afterward, Morpheus explained that Brule wouldn’t be able to reappear for quite some time. Although Brule had the ability to heal from his injuries, the process still required time. And Morpheus, knowing exactly how to prolong that recovery period, made sure Brule would be out of commission for as long as possible.

Still, the entire ordeal left Zhao’er feeling deeply frustrated.

While waiting for Morrison, Zhao’er wandered around aimlessly, staying in his true form without shifting back to human shape or shrinking in size. This form, after all, was where he felt most at ease—far more comfortable than when he was smaller or in human form.

Morrison was quite attuned to Zhao’er’s sounds. He could easily distinguish between the noises Zhao’er made when he was agitated versus when he was in a good mood. At that moment, it was obvious Zhao’er wasn’t feeling great.

The entire valley buzzed with his growls and roars, scaring the small animals in the mountains into frantic scurrying. For Zhao’er, this was merely a way to vent his frustrations, though he hadn’t expected anyone to respond to his cries.

The reply came from far away, yet it felt oddly close, as if whispered right into his ear. The sound was different from his own, but Zhao’er could clearly understand what it meant and even sense a connection to those who had responded.

The system informed Zhao’er that the voices belonged to his kin.

Since learning he was from the Abyss, Zhao’er had taken it upon himself to study what he could about it. Although the name made it sound like a decrepit wasteland, Zhao’er discovered that the Abyss was vast—larger than all the human territories combined.

The climate, however, was extreme. Some areas were bitterly cold, while others were scorching hot. For humans, it would indeed be a hellish environment, but for the dragons of the Abyss, it was an ideal habitat.

Despite its size, the population was tiny—fewer than one ten-thousandth of humanity’s numbers. Pureblood dragons were even rarer. Their survival as a species was primarily thanks to their extraordinarily long lifespans, which often stretched into hundreds or even thousands of years.

Due to their rarity, dragons were notably unified. They shared a unique telepathic bond, allowing them to hear each other’s voices even across great distances. From those voices, they could also sense whether another dragon was mature or still a hatchling.

This was precisely what Zhao’er had heard at that moment.

He could make out the frantic concern in their voices. They were asking him what was wrong, whether he was in trouble, whether the humans had harmed him… The majority of their inquiries revolved around his well-being.

Zhao’er was momentarily surprised by their unity and kindness. He hadn’t expected dragons to be so friendly. It almost felt like if he told them he’d been bullied, they’d rush to his aid and settle the score for him.

But this assumption couldn’t have been further from the truth. Dragons of the Abyss were cold-blooded creatures. To them, most beings weren’t worth even a glance, let alone their attention.

---

Deep within the Abyss, several adult dragons stirred from their slumber. For them, with their near-immortal lifespans, sleeping for decades was commonplace. Rarely did outside disturbances warrant their awakening.

This time, however, was different. They had heard the voice of a hatchling.

It had been an extraordinarily long time since the Abyss last saw the birth of a young dragon. The moment they recognized the sound of a hatchling’s cries, they awoke immediately. When they realized the hatchling’s location was within human territory…

At first, the dragons who heard Zhao’er’s voice thought they must have sensed incorrectly. But the unmistakable whimpering of a young dragon left no room for doubt.

Hatchlings were incredibly precious. The Abyss couldn’t even recall how many years it had been since a new dragon was born. If not for their long lifespans, their dwindling birth rate would have driven them to extinction long ago.

And judging by the sound, this one wasn’t even fully grown yet.

No one knew where the hatchling had hatched from its egg, nor what it had experienced so far. Without guidance from an adult dragon, this little stray dragon might not even know how to communicate with them.

The adult dragons exercised extreme caution and sent a greeting to the hatchling to test the waters.

At first, the little dragon didn’t respond to them.

The adult dragons gathered to discuss the matter, their colossal forms nearly blotting out the sky. They rarely assembled like this, as most preferred to stay in their nests, uninterested in socializing unless there was a serious and urgent matter at hand.

Zhao’er, who had previously been smug and proud of his ability to grow larger, suddenly found his size utterly insignificant compared to the true adult dragons. In their presence, he seemed not just small but downright diminutive.

Moreover, the way adult dragons communicated was entirely different. Unlike Zhao’er’s juvenile, whimper-like cries of “whimper-whimper” that were typical for hatchlings, adult dragons had a more developed way of speaking. Zhao’er’s limited repertoire was due to his lack of proper teaching.

—“Do you think we scared him?”
—“Or maybe he doesn’t know how to reply?”
—“He sounds so small…”
—“Could he be in danger?”

Finally, Zhao’er’s slow and simple reply came through:
—“Uh… Hi there… You all good?”