Chapter 300: Home

The scorching sun of the Ennoak Desert compresses the shadow of the Crimson Spire into a thin line; Naimi Xisi stands in backlight on the rooftop terrace, dark‑gold scales flickering with each breath like cooling lava. He looks down at the charred battlefield—wreckage of the Iron‑Jaw Fortress siege engines scattered across the dunes, the skeleton of the blue dragon Abu Longruisi half‑buried in quicksand, its hollow eye sockets still fixed on the sky, frozen in its final rage.

"They didn't even let you use the second technique," the boy Wuer Mu's voice came from behind, wrapped in uncontrollable tremor. It was reverence at witnessing this primal, surging power.

"Power isn't for showing off, Wuer Mu," he flicked his claw tip, a sliver of silver light sweeping over the blue dragon's skull, grinding it to powder, "especially your cursed fire. Remember, uncontrolled flame first burns the fire‑bearer themselves."

The boy fell silent for a moment, then suddenly raised his hand toward the eastern sand sea: "Then why keep it? You could destroy the tower just as you destroyed the blue dragon—" His fingertip pointed at the observation platform atop the Crimson Spire, where a blood‑red crystal floated, its surface riddled with spider‑web cracks yet still pulsing regularly like a heart.

Naimi Xisi's tail brushed the edge of the terrace, and a granite railing shattered in response. "Because the Crimson Eye is not an enemy, it's a mirror," he turned to stare at Wuer Mu, his vertical pupils swirling with star‑like Arcane Power runes, "the ambition of the Red‑robed Mage Association, Sai Er's greed, and your fear of yourself… destroying the mirror solves nothing."

Juan Ce Long's deep violet eyes seemed to pierce the boy's heart; he now resembled an over‑corrected wire, guilt‑laden and fearful of power, and under the baptism of the past few days his ambition swelled rapidly.

But that was no good omen; what he needed was a compliant Dependent, not an ambition‑driven seeker of power.

Naimi Xisi gazed softly at Wuer Mu, as if observing his thoughts. He is a promising seed, but if it grows crooked, that would be bad.

Ba Su's arrival broke the silence between them. The Necromancer's robe hem was stained with burial earth and tar, and the eerie green flame in his eyes was far dimmer than three days ago. "As agreed, I've come to collect the 'reward'." He tugged at his mouth, showing a stiff smile, his tone trying to sound relaxed.

There's no way around it; anyone who saw that cataclysmic explosion would no longer dare disrespect this dragon.

Ba Su now felt very fortunate about his original decision, to serve under a possibly Legendary Juan Ce Long? That's chilling!

Naimi Xisi tossed a dragon scale; the scale unfolded in the air into a translucent map, the border of Sai Er's kingdom marked in red. "Will your performance report mention the cursed fire?"

"Of course not," Ba Su stroked a fresh crack on the lantern's surface, "I'll only submit the perfect script of 'the Crimson Spire's encounter with the Scattered Tower Forest's ambush, overseer Ba Su's hard‑fought repulse'… and a recommendation letter to request transfer back to headquarters." He paused, his gaze sweeping over Wuer Mu, "As for that 'small accident', let it stay buried in the desert forever."

Startled, Wuer Mu staggered backward, the cursed fire erupting uncontrollably from his palm, scorching black gullies into the ground. "You start again!" he roared, collapsing to his knees, "Talk about controlling the cursed fire… it's nothing but a plague!"

Naimi Xisi glared at the muttering Ba Su, coiled his tail around the boy's waist and lifted him, another claw pressing against his forehead. Silver light seeped from the gaps in the dragon scale, spiraling with the cursed fire's crimson into a vortex. "Breathe, Wuer Mu. Imagine holding a chick's neck—too loose and it flies away, too tight and you crush it."

"I don't need your fable!" the boy struggled, but the cursed fire was being forced back inside by the silver light, "You don't understand at all… every time the flame runs wild I see their faces! The smell of my foster father's charred beard, the temperature of my foster mother's final hug… how could a dragon possibly grasp any of that!"

The dragon claw snapped shut, forcing Wuer Mu's cursed fire completely back beneath his skin. "I truly don't understand human emotions." Memories of a past life were too distant and hazy; often he couldn't even tell whether they were truly a past life or merely a dream.

Naimi Xisi released his tail, letting the boy slump onto the sand, "But I know one thing—you're burning them not because of the cursed fire, but because of fear. And fear can be tamed."

——

When night fell, the disassembly ritual of the Crimson Eye began. Ba Su etched reverse runes across the observation platform floor, while Naimi Xisi's dragon breath poured in like liquid moonlight into the crystal fissures. Wuer Mu was ordered to stand at the center of the formation, his cursed fire serving as an energy conduit, scorching the core that sustains the tower spirit—the mana pool of the Crimson Spire.

"Thirty seconds countdown, then cut the rune chain at the northeast corner simultaneously!" Ba Su roared. His mana was completely exhausted; this grandiose ritual now relied solely on Naimi Xisi's massive mana to fend off the Crimson Eye's dying backlash. A sharp buzzing emanated from within the crystal, like the wails of countless souls being crushed.

Wuer Mu's cursed fire suddenly quivered violently, a wisp of black smoke spewing from its heart. "Something… is eroding me in reverse!" veins bulged on his neck, sand grains at the formation's edge levitated, forming a vague phrase in the air—【Shadow casts its bone, night covers its blood】.

"Don't get distracted!" Naimi Xisi's dragon claw plunged into the formation, amplifying output as the cursed fire devoured the mana pool's power, mana surged and swallowed the black smoke. The Crimson Eye, in the instant before exploding, emitted a barely perceptible red flash, passing through the tower's apex gap and vanishing into the starry sky.

"Success?" Ba Su slumped in the rune ruins, his black robe drenched in sweat. Naimi Xisi gave no answer, staring at the direction where the red light vanished, his pupils narrowed to slits. "Are you sure Sai Er's headquarters can't receive any signal from the tower spirit?"

"Unless Sazastan rewrites its runes himself," the Necromancer forced a dry laugh, "Now, allow me to take my leave… Sai Er's forces will arrive in the desert at sunrise tomorrow."

In the darkest moment before dawn, Naimi Xisi led Wuer Mu away from the Crimson Spire. The dunes collapsed in the storm stirred by dragon wings, completely burying the Red‑robed Mage's stronghold. Wuer Mu curled within a protective cage formed by dragon claws, a silver‑scale woven bracelet now around his wrist—a cursed fire suppressor crafted by Naimi Xisi from shed scales.

Cursed fire, as a power, can devour all mana. Honestly, creating a Magic Item to suppress cursed fire is difficult.

Fortunately, Naimi Xisi is not limited to spells; as a Psychic Dragon variant he is equally adept with Mana. The suppressor was engraved by Naimi Xisi with abundant Psychic Self-Shaping and Psychic Conversion Mana script, allowing it to forcibly "extinguish" the cursed fire when it becomes uncontrollable.

Of course, this is merely a stopgap; ultimately Wuer Mu still needs to rely on himself to master the cursed fire.

!

"Where are we going?" the boy looked at the rapidly receding desert beneath his feet.

"Home," the dragon's breath brushed the clouds, tinting the horizon with a pale gold, "that is the hometown where I was born."

Behind them, a wisp of shadow seeped from the eye socket of the blue dragon's remains in the sand, coalescing into an unheard whisper: 【The shadow has seen you, Omega's beloved.】

(End of Chapter)