Chapter 299

Ang checked the dragon egg and found he didn't need to use Meishen Fist, or even re-grow the hatchling's body; lacking experience the first time, now that he'd incorporated that experience, Ang felt he could solve it with a simpler method.

The Purification Spell swept over the egg's surface, cleansing away dirt; after a few applications, even the tiny insects invisible to the naked eye vanished completely.

Ang's consciousness had already scanned the egg beforehand, choosing a spot to avoid the inner membrane's nerve lines, and drilled a small hole to pour in the Sacred Essence Liquid.

What's the main reason an egg gets stuck? Because the nutrients inside the shell have been exhausted, the hatchling's development has halted, the inner membrane's nerves can't retract, preventing it from breaking free—until it starves to death from depleted nutrients.

Solving it is simple: inject nutrients into the shell, let the hatchling continue developing, then emerge naturally.

Sounds simple, but in tens of thousands of years, the dragon race has tried—and failed—every time.

They once drilled small holes in the shell and spat inside; dragon saliva is undoubtedly nutrient-rich, but sadly, the egg turned foul by the next day.

They also poured in water, meat paste, all sorts of random things—but none worked.

"We tried injecting Sacred Essence Liquid too, but not this much—it's too expensive, and it still went bad," Brucek whispered.

"I know all that. Maybe it's the technique—didn't you see? Ang used Purification Spell the whole time: on the egg's surface, on the drilled hole—almost continuously purified. That might be the key." Negril said.

Brucek nodded: "Like it's free. If this really works, I'll have to keep a couple hundred priests of the Light Church on retainer?"

"No need. The Necrogod's priests are far more effective—one is enough. I already have a suitable candidate; he'll handle purification on Vortex Island." Negril said.

"One? Will that work? Is he human? I don't want humans in the hatching chamber." Brucek said.

"Heh, what if he's a dragon thrall?" Negril grinned.

"Dragon thrall? The Necrogod's priest? How are those connected?" Brucek was startled: "Whose thrall? How irresponsible!"

Dragons must be responsible for their dragon thralls; if a thrall abandons his dragon to worship another god, it's a grossly irresponsible act. Of course, few dragons truly care—but Brucek was the clan chief, so he had to ask.

Negril scratched his nose, embarrassed: "Nai Ai-li's. You'd never guess how he became a thrall—and he's got deep ties to Spring Wind the Druid. Now he's learning Purification, Skin-Clearing, and Spot-Erasing Spells from Lady Katie. Damn it, won't he switch to worshipping Meishen now?"

By the end, Negril himself was stunned—this kid had received an awful lot of divine favor.

In Meishencheng, the little kid, playing with mud, suddenly sneezed—snot dripped down, he sucked it back hard, but it kept slowly dripping again.

The kid summoned a sphere of holy light, wiped it over his face, purifying away the snot and grime inside his nostrils, cleaning the dirt off his cheeks, revealing a soft, pink little face.

"Ooooh!" The kid roared loudly twice, then went back to molding mud—he shaped a scythe, a small hoe, a barn owl—things deeply etched in his memory, even though he'd forgotten everything before age three, he still remembered these.

He molded them meticulously, carving fine wood grain into the handles, then tried to pick them up.

Mud creations couldn't be picked up—they naturally crumbled.

The kid pouted and molded them again, tried to lift them—again the wooden handles shattered, crumbling into powder that scattered downward; a gust of wind lifted the powder—instead of mud, the handles had turned into piles of wood dust.

He'd turned the mud into sawdust…

Ang tilted his head, sensing something, but didn't dwell on it—too many things happened daily in his Faith Energy Network; if he investigated every one, he'd have no time left for farming.

After filling both stuck eggs with Sacred Essence Liquid, Ang felt gratitude emanating from within: Yingyingying —

He tapped one egg with his finger, activating the Instant Death Aura.

The Sacred Essence Liquid inside the egg rapidly depleted; half an hour later, the shell cracked with crisp sounds, and a hatchling's head broke through: Yingyingying …

Following the same method, another half hour passed—and the second egg hatched too.

Both eggs had reached their final hatching stage; under normal progress, they should've hatched already. Ang's arrival helped them overcome the most critical step.

"So simple?" Brucek's eyes bulged in disbelief. Last time, he'd watched the entire hatchling cultivation process—it was tedious, took days. Now? Half an hour.

"Where's it simple? Try without acceleration—you'll have to guard it for who knows how long," Negril said. "Twenty liters of Sacred Essence Liquid, twenty thousand. Two auras—count it as twenty thousand too. Forty thousand total. Cash or labor to pay off the debt?"

"Cash. We've got money now. Forty thousand mana crystals? Child's play." Brucek waved it off.

"Got money? Did you strike a mine? How'd you earn it? Cash is best—also settle the last payment. You said labor, but your wife dragged you back halfway." Negril grumbled.

"My old face isn't worth much… Fine, settle it. We did strike a mine. Heh, you probably don't know how rich the sea is—just pick up some broken rocks, and there it is." Brucek said.

Dragons never wanted mana crystals before—they had no economic activity, and carrying them was just a nuisance. Their main uses—replenishing mana and aiding cultivation—were useless to dragons; replenishing a dragon's mana required tons of crystals each time.

But now, mana crystals solved their most painful problem—stuck eggs—and instantly became valuable. Brucek gave the order; large numbers of dragons scoured everywhere, quickly finding mana crystal veins on some islands.

Overseas was an untouched virgin land, even with exposed mana crystal veins. Dragons just swiped with their claws and unearthed piles—no wonder they called them "broken rocks."

"Then dig more," Negril said. "Wait, no—too much would go unused. If you flood the human world with it, you'll crash their economy. Just dig a little to keep on hand—we'll come take it when needed."

As the two chatted, Ang suddenly pointed at a dark, round sphere in the hatching chamber: "Whose egg is that?"

Deep in the chamber lay a half-person-tall perfectly spherical stone, among oddly shaped rocks—unremarkable.

"Egg? What egg? That's a rock!" Brucek and Negril were stunned—like a guest pointing at a doll and asking whose child it was.

"Egg." Ang walked over, tapped it—found it had petrified.

"It's a rock. How could an egg be this round? Don't joke—it's terrifying." Negril complained.

Since dragons settled here, the hatching chamber had barely changed—except for erosion expanding its interior space. The layout remained unchanged since tens of thousands of years ago.

Bloodline memory wouldn't record a round stone—so Negril didn't know how long it had been here, but at least over ten thousand years.

Because he himself hatched from here—and back then, this round stone was already here.

"Look, it's perfectly round, no shell texture, and so small—how could it be an egg?" Negril argued. If it truly were an egg, the implications were horrifying.

"Egg." Ang said: "The texture's worn off."

As he spoke, he pulled out Essence Worm Ash Liquid and began dripping it onto the stone to prove his point—but Negril grabbed his wrist.

Negril's face twisted with complex emotion, hesitating as he looked at Brucek.

Brucek was annoyed, waiting to see how Ang would prove this round stone was an egg—if he failed, Brucek would mock him mercilessly. After all, this was terrifying—if every round stone made him wonder, "Is this an egg?"

But Negril stopped Ang, turned back to Brucek—what did that mean? Brucek froze.

"What? Go on." Brucek said.

"What if it really is an egg?" Negril asked.

"No way! How could it be an egg?" Brucek refused to believe.

"What if it is? Petrifying an egg takes tens of thousands of years. This size—if it's an egg, who's the most likely parent?" Negril asked.

"Gah—Dragon God?" Brucek gasped, realizing the possibility.

"What if it's even remotely tied to the Dragon God? What consequences?" Negril prompted.

Brucek began pacing, muttering: "It'd be enshrined. No one touches it. Even looking requires a formal request."

After a long pause, Brucek turned to Negril: "What's your opinion?"

Negril said: "If I take this round stone from the chamber, whether it shatters, revives, hatches, or resurrects the Dragon God—it has nothing to do with this stone."

Brucek bared his teeth—undoubtedly, this was the best solution. Negril taking the stone from the chamber was entirely reasonable for his status.

If proven an egg, no dragon would allow it removed—they'd immediately enshrine it, and every action involving the egg would require formal approval.

An egg stored here for tens of thousands of years? Likely the Dragon God's. A divine relic. No one dares disrespect it.

But what good is bowing to a stone?

But if Negril takes it—what then?

Revival? Hatching? Resurrection? Even if only a scrap of flesh is extracted—could Ang, with his power, cultivate the creature inside?

What if the egg truly contains the Dragon God or its descendant? Oh gods—Dragon God reborn?

Thinking of this, Brucek slapped himself: "Almost got tricked by you. All this hinges on it being an egg—what if it's just a rock?"

Negril sighed: "I doubted him just now, but Ang has never been wrong. Even if he said these rocks were dragon dung, I might believe him. Are you willing to risk it?"

Brucek didn't trust Ang as much as Negril—but he feared the possibility—if it truly were an egg, even as clan chief, he couldn't touch it.

But if it's just a rock…

As Brucek left the hatching chamber with the two hatchlings, Vortex Island erupted in celebration. Negril seized the moment: "I miss this place so much, miss everyone. I can't take anything else—so I'll take this round stone from the hatching chamber."

Back in the cave, the Black Iron Crow sat beside the tuna, staring blankly.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you eating? Aren't you hungry?" Lu Se asked.

The Black Crow glared at him: "No knife."

Lu Se left everything—except his sword. Until starving, the Black Crow wouldn't dare bite into the giant fish.

"Come on, let's get you out. Nothing much to offer here." Brucek reverted to dragon form, urging them on.

Everyone climbed onto Brucek's back and took flight. Lu Se said: "We could've teleported straight back, but Lord Negril said he promised to sell you grain—so we're dropping it off first."

The Black Crow's eyes welled up: "Thank you. Thank you, Lord, for remembering. This grain saved all our lives."

"Child's play. But if you want to thank someone—thank the Necrogod."

…

While Lu Se entertained outsiders, Ang and Negril's consciousness retreated into the Palace of Rest, where the round stone sat in a large barrel, Sacred Essence Worm Ash Liquid slowly dripping onto it.

The stone's surface rapidly whitened, revealing the texture of an eggshell.

"Damn it—it really is an egg. Why isn't its information in our bloodline memory? Is it not from our dragon bloodline?" Negril murmured.

Since it's an egg, the worm ash liquid needn't be spared—Ang kept pouring until the barrel overflowed, submerging the entire egg.

Under the soak, the black shell continuously shed flakes, revealing a creamy white, eggshell-like material. A strange vibration spread from the egg—Ang bore the full force.

Brucek, carrying everyone through the air, suddenly shuddered, looking around confusedly. All dragons on Dragon Island, Nai Ai-li in Meishencheng, Baihou—all dragonkin—unconsciously shuddered.

Ang tilted his head: "I think… I can… become Dragon God again."

"What does that mean? Can you achieve Ultimate Transformation now? Or just Dragon God form?" Negril asked.

Whether transforming into Locke or Dragon God, there were limits—each transformation required days to recover.

In Derek, Ang had already transformed once. Only a day and a bit had passed—could he transform again?

PS: Double double check, come on, a few sets of monthly votes and recommendations, yoyo yoyo