Chapter 886 — A Bizarre Topic

A rending agony surged up from the depths of their souls. Even their sturdy bodies seemed unable to bear it, swiftly manifesting every kind of anomaly. On Noretta's skin, vast swaths of searing patterns burst forth, and faint dragon scales spread in an instant from her cheeks across her whole body. Behind Metzen, a layer of illusory shadow rose into the air—enormous phantom dragon wings, unfurling to blot out the sky and sun—and a great many shadows that did not belong to them, as though possessed of their own will, scrambled out from around the two, straining to break free and rush into the sky.

This dreadful process lasted a full ten minutes before the backlash from the soul's depths finally subsided. Noretta gasped for breath, fine beads of sweat dripping from her cheeks. At last she barely regained mastery of her body, and little by little she rose to her feet and reached out to support Metzen, who looked to be in even worse condition.

Metzen glanced up at her and tried to force herself upright, but the next moment her body swayed, and then—"Blergh"—she threw up.

Her innards were still convulsing.

Seeing her friend in such agony, Noretta wore an expression of unbearable pity. So, without a word, she shifted half a step to the side and turned her face away.

Half a minute later, this even more dreadful process finally subsided. Noretta turned back and looked Metzen up and down. "Are you all right?"

Metzen: "...I don't want to talk right now."

Noretta regarded her friend with a face full of sympathy: "Going to keep wearing that ridiculous-looking veil from now on?"

Metzen: "...(a stream of Tarronde profanity, in quantity)"

Noretta, cowed by her friend's aura, took half a step back and raised both hands in surrender. Metzen took the moment to catch her breath; once she had calmed a little, she lowered her head, knit her brows hard, and opened her mouth to exhale a blinding jet of flame—a roaring dragon's breath that in an instant burned away the evidence left at the scene, all of it insufficiently dignified and elegant.

Then she looked up at Noretta, deeply regretful that she could not silence her for good.

Noretta seemed not to feel the tangible resentment radiating from Metzen. She only drew several deep breaths, further calming herself and repairing the damage she had suffered, and after another moment spoke, still shaken: "You deal with that Gao Yang Cecil often... Is talking to him always this dangerous?"

"...Almost every time he takes on that 'let's have a talk' manner, it's a life-or-death affair," Metzen said, her eyes blank. "Do you know how nervous I get whenever he says he has a question? I've already sketched out the design of my own tombstone in my head..."

"It's terrifying, truly." Noretta sighed with the authority of personal experience, and could not help recalling what had happened not long ago at the Mithril Vault headquarters in Tarlongde—even Speaker Anqian, present at the time, had suffered a single gaze from a god, and that dreadful gaze... had apparently also come about because of a signal carried back from Gao Yang Cecil.

"I suddenly have a premonition," the white dragon lady said, her face falling into gloom, "that if I keep running around this human empire with you, sooner or later I'll be 'talked to death' by some careless remark from that Pioneer Hero. I really can't imagine I'd be bold enough to casually discuss gods with outsiders, or even approach forbidden knowledge of my own accord..."

"Put your worries aside. After this, you can go back to a rear-support post," Metzen glanced at her friend, then her gaze drifted to the box her friend had thrown on the ground, a box forged from all manner of precious magical materials. "As for now, we ought to collect a little payment for this extremely risky mission..."

As she spoke, she went over to the box and began prying gems and crystals off it with her bare fingers, calling out as she worked: "Come give me a hand—we'll melt down the frame later too. Tsk, what a pity it's too conspicuous to sell outright; otherwise selling the whole thing would surely fetch more than taking it apart..."

The white dragon Noretta came hesitantly to her friend's side, a trace of conflict in her voice: "Is this really all right? This box was originally meant to..."

"Hey, if you don't tell, who'd know—I sold the last box too. Let me tell you, serving in the field is nothing like staying in Tarlongde as a support officer. The risks are great, the conditions harsh, and you can't even rest properly. If you don't find some way to earn a little extra on the side, you can't get by..."

The white dragon Noretta's eye twitched twice. She had meant to scold her loudly (the rest is omitted)... She went to Metzen's side and joined in the same dirty business.

...

"Honored Ancestor, you wished to see me?"

Herty came to Gao Yang's study and asked curiously, and the next second her gaze was drawn to the conspicuous object on the desk.

"Honored Ancestor, this is..."

Herty's eyes grew wider and wider. She pointed at the Shield of the Kingdom's Guardian on the desk, and at last even her voice began to tremble—

As a member of the Cecil family, she could never mistake what it was. In the family's inherited rare books, in the portraits passed down by the elders, she had seen it countless times. The Shield of the Kingdom's Guardian, lost a century ago, was held to be the beginning of the family's disgrace—even the heavy burden borne by every generation of Cecil heirs. Generation after generation of Cecil descendants had sworn to recover this treasure, but none had ever succeeded. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that one day this shield would suddenly appear before her—on her ancestor's desk.

"Ansu, the Shield of the Kingdom's Guardian," Gao Yang said mildly, well pleased by Herty's astonished expression, and smiled. "Today is a day worth celebrating. This shield has been recovered—the dragons helped recover it."

"The dragons..." Herty felt she was finally recovering from that dizzying sensation. She drew a breath and could not resist stepping two paces forward to examine the shield on the desk closely. "It really is it... It really is it?"

"Of course it is. I could hardly mistake my own possession," Gao Yang said. "Why do you look more excited than I am?"

"Honored Ancestor, I fear you cannot understand... This lost shield means something extraordinary to us descendants," Herty said, unable to hide her excitement. "The Cecil family's fall from grace began with the loss of this shield. Generation after generation of descendants have sought to restore the ancestor's glory. Both Rebecca and I swore before your portrait that we would recover this shield..."

"Ahem." Gao Yang coughed twice. "You have a rule like that?"

Herty quickly composed herself somewhat, and sensed the oddness of the atmosphere at that moment. She glanced at the ancestor who had stepped out of his portrait into reality, and lowered her head a little awkwardly: "This... this is a perfectly normal aristocratic custom. There are many matters we ask you to witness before your portrait—important family decisions, oaths upon coming of age, grave changes within the family..."

"All right, you needn't go on," Gao Yang said, finding the topic altogether too bizarre and hurrying to cut Herty off. "I suppose Grumman must have greeted me too when he took the shield from my grave—he may even have knocked on my coffin lid. Though it's hardly proper for me to say so myself, that is simply the practice of hoodwinking the dead, so let's drop the subject here."

Herty: "...Yes, Honored Ancestor."