Reize froze for a moment.
Then he burst into loud laughter, clapping White Mane heavily on the shoulder.
"Good! That's what I like to see—straightforward and bold!"
"From now on, you're not just a mount of mine… ahem, you're my brother!"
"Come on, let me take you into the city where we can feast on the best food and drink the strongest wine!"
With an easy motion, he snapped off a small piece from the "Star Core Tree's young branch" that Fiona had turned in, and casually tossed it toward White Mane.
This item was, without a doubt, incredibly precious. But Reize knew better than anyone: in Aerial City, if such a thing fell onto the street, no one would bother to pick it up. In fact, it might very well get swept into the trash by some bored servant.
"Consider it a meeting gift!" he said with a grin.
White Mane caught the glowing branch. It exuded an irresistible fragrance, making his eyes light up as though he had just been handed his favorite toy. A goofy smile spread across his face.
Without hesitation, he stuffed it into his mouth and crunched away happily. The overwhelming surge of life energy flowing through his body made him squint in bliss, as if he were basking in warm sunlight.
With a broad wave of his arm, Reize proudly led his newly recruited "little brother" through the shimmering light curtain of the city gate.
Behind them, all the forces outside the gates were left staring, dumbfounded, their minds utterly blank.
The shocks they had experienced today were more outrageous than everything they had faced in the last few centuries combined!
A Legendary-rank powerhouse acting as nothing more than a doorman.
An Eternal-rank powerhouse being slaughtered in an instant.
A dragon descending from the heavens, lowering its proud head to humans…
What in the world had become of this reality?!
Dalton's Outer District
In a grand yet antiquely styled council hall, a gathering unlike any other was taking place.
The mighty dragon Fiona, Marshal Otto of the Crossbridge Empire, the Tower Master of Thunderclap, the Frost Grand Knight Commander, the Dwarven King Thrain, an Elven Elder, and representatives from several other major factions—those who had managed, by luck or immense effort, to gather enough tickets—now sat uneasily on ornate chairs inscribed with runes and made of unidentifiable, otherworldly materials.
These were figures who usually dominated the world outside, but here, they looked like nervous country bumpkins stepping into a foreign palace for the first time. Their faces betrayed a swirling mix of emotions: awe, fear, shame, confusion, and an unshakable hunger for what lay hidden in this city.
Their conflicted expressions grew even heavier when they saw Lupotin walking in, calm-faced and faintly smug, following behind a dignified elder.
This old man radiated no discernible aura, yet the sheer sense of life-level superiority emanating from him could not be hidden. In an instant, everyone present realized just how extraordinary he must be.
The attendants surrounding him bowed with genuine reverence. Even Colt—the promising young man who had earlier served as their guide—stood deferentially at his side. This sight alone made the gathered outsiders sit up straighter, bracing themselves.
Among them, Marquis Lawrence's complexion turned from red to pale to green. Remembering his earlier ridicule of Lupotin, he now wanted nothing more than to dig a hole in the ground and crawl inside.
Under countless eyes, the elder walked to the head of the chamber.
He did not sit. Instead, he simply stood there, sweeping his calm yet authoritative gaze across everyone, before giving a slight nod.
"Welcome, all of you, to Dalton Town," the man said. "I am Magnar, humbly serving as the Vice President of Dalton Town. I have been entrusted by the President himself to act as your host."
Vice President?
It was a title none of them had ever heard before. Yet not a single person dared to question it.
"If any of you have doubts or questions," Magnar continued evenly, "today is the day to ask. Nothing will be withheld."
His voice was not loud, but each syllable rang clear in the hearts of everyone present.
And yet, these very same figures who normally wielded vast influence across the outside world now found themselves exchanging helpless glances. Their minds were overflowing with questions, but their throats felt sealed shut. There was too much, too overwhelming a flood of things to ask about.
At that moment, one figure finally broke the silence.
The dragon girl stepped forward. She took in a deep breath, and even though she had transformed into a human form, she still carried that innate aura of nobility and pride. Today, however, that pride was sheathed in caution.
Her golden eyes swept coldly across the native leaders in the room, a flicker of contempt clearly visible.
Then, turning her gaze toward Magnar, she spoke bluntly:
"Vice President, I have sensed a pure, ancient aura of Star Bloodline within this world. It must be within this city. Tell me, where is she?"
"I am Fiona, Astral Ancient Dragon, come here in obedience to the oldest prophecy of my clan. I bear no malice."
Her declaration sent another chill running through the room.
Once again, everyone present gasped in shock.
They quickly connected the earth-shattering visions they had recently witnessed with this mysterious Dalton Town. Truly, where else could such astronomical phenomena have originated?
But wait—what had the dragon just said?
Astral Ancient Dragon?!
Wasn't that… a creature from ancient myths and legends, thought to exist only in long-forgotten stories?
Could she be real? And if so, how had she appeared here, of all places?
Fortunately, under the shelter of Dalton Town, they could not perceive the terror such a dragon would inspire in the outside world. To them, she looked like an aloof but otherwise harmless girl—though her words alone were enough to keep them trembling inside.
Despite their bewilderment, no one dared to speak recklessly.
Magnar's expression shifted slightly. He tilted his head, as though listening to a voice that only he could hear.
After a moment, he nodded lightly toward Colt.
Colt immediately stepped forward and gestured politely to Fiona.
"Miss Fiona, if you would please follow me. The one you seek awaits in Aerial City."
"Aerial City?"
Another round of stunned silence swept the hall.
Fiona frowned, clearly displeased that she would have to travel elsewhere. But recalling the terrifying spear pointed at her earlier, she restrained herself. With a faint scowl, she followed Colt toward the teleportation array at the rear of the hall.
With a flash of light, both figures vanished.
Magnar clapped his hands once.
"Well then, ladies and gentlemen, let us return to the matter we were discussing before…"
The Sky Above – Aerial City
Time and space folded in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, Fiona found herself standing in an entirely new world.
Here, the sky felt close enough to touch. Billowing seas of cloud churned beneath her feet. The air was thick with mana, hundreds of times richer than anything she had felt outside the city walls.
Even the wildflowers along the roadside radiated extraordinary vitality.
In the distance, she saw farmers tilling glowing fields. The soil itself shimmered with divine brilliance. And when one of those humble figures raised a hand to wipe away sweat, the casual movement released an aura so terrifying that even Fiona felt a shiver of dread.
Farther still, towers of indescribable beauty pierced the heavens. Their structures were layered with mysterious principles, and the mighty presences dwelling within them shone like beacons in the night.
Even the very flow of time seemed… different here.
Fiona's eyes grew solemn. As an Astral Archmage by rank, she had already reached a level where she could faintly perceive the laws of space-time.
She had felt a weak ripple of temporal energy upon first entering Dalton Town. But here, within this city in the sky, those sensations grew overwhelming. The rules of time and space themselves were being bent, reshaped!
Her heart trembled violently.
Who… what kind of existence had the power to rewrite the flow of time itself? And that was not even accounting for the divine buildings, or the treasures flourishing like weeds along the avenues, rarities so great they would be fought over in the deepest corners of the cosmos.
"Could this… could this truly be the core of the city?" she whispered.
"Is this… the center of the entire universe?"
If not for the fact that the outside natives were so pathetically weak, she might have truly believed she had stepped into the universe's heart.
But if not that—then what was this place? How could such wonders exist here, hidden away in a seemingly insignificant world?
Confusion, awe, and doubt consumed her.
Her pride as an Astral Ancient Dragon, her unshakable sense of superiority—both wavered in the face of what she was witnessing.
She felt small, provincial, like a true bumpkin. The wonders of the outer city had already stunned her, but compared to this Aerial City, they were nothing at all.
She had thought herself mighty, but here she could barely measure up to a farmer in the fields.
At that very moment, one of those kindly looking farmers—an old man with a warm smile—noticed the young girl standing nearby. Perhaps thinking she was simply another pretty-faced newcomer, he chuckled gently and reached out a weathered hand…
To pat her on the head.
Fiona's body stiffened instantly.
A flicker of instinctive draconic rage flashed in her golden eyes.
But she dared not move. She forced herself to remain motionless as that calloused, dirt-smudged hand gently patted her gleaming hair, hair that should have shone with the brilliance of starlight.
"Oh, my President," the old farmer chuckled warmly, "look here—what a pretty young lady. She must be new, eh?"
"Don't be afraid, girl. This place is wonderful…"
With a smile full of rustic kindness, he reached into a basket at his side and handed her a plump, ruby-red fruit that gave off a rich, mouth-watering fragrance.
Fiona accepted it mechanically, her mind utterly blank.
Colt, standing nearby, was also surprised by the scene. So this dragon lady actually has a good temper? he thought, astonished.
Before anyone could react further, a lively, melodious voice rang out.
"Wow! What a beautiful big sister! Are you new here?"
Fiona snapped her head around. Bounding toward her was a silver-haired girl in a simple dress, her beauty so dazzling it seemed to dim the very stars. Her bright blue eyes sparkled like the clearest summer sky as she studied Fiona with innocent curiosity.
But what shook Fiona's very soul was not her appearance—it was the aura flowing from her.
From this girl radiated the very presence Fiona had sensed before: the pure and ancient Star Bloodline.
So concentrated, so intimate. Warm and vast, this aura resonated deeply with her own Astral Dragon bloodline, sparking a harmony she had never felt in all her life.
The prophetic hymns sung in draconic tongues for countless epochs had finally found their subject.
It's her. It must be her.
The one foretold in prophecy—
The Child of Stars!
"Y-You… you are…"
Fiona's voice shook with reverence, rising in excitement and awe, nearly incoherent.
She could feel it—this girl's bloodline was loftier and older than her own. A lineage beyond even that of the Astral Ancient Dragons!
Lilith tilted her head, amused. She studied this breathtakingly beautiful but oddly nervous woman. Those golden eyes especially made her think of a large hound—fierce in appearance, but in truth more endearingly clumsy.
With a sunny smile, Lilith grabbed Fiona's hand.
"My name's Lilith! What's yours?"
"Papa said some new guests were coming today. Is it you?"
"You're so pretty! Your eyes shine like gemstones that glow in the dark!"
"And your hair—so gorgeous!"
The warmth and innocence in Lilith's tone, coupled with the natural affinity flowing from her Star Bloodline, began to wash away Fiona's fear. In its place surged an overwhelming sense of purpose and sacred duty.
She quickly bent forward in a formal bow.
"Fiona. My name is Fiona… I have come guided by the ancient prophecy to seek you!"
Then, to Colt's utter shock and the farmer's wide-eyed disbelief, the Astral Ancient Dragon—the same being who had, just hours ago, unleashed her dragon's might and forced countless powers to their knees outside the city gates—dropped without hesitation to one knee before Lilith.
Fiona raised her flawless, radiant face. In her golden eyes burned unrestrained devotion. Her voice trembled with fervor, the cadence of draconic oaths giving her words the gravity of an ancient hymn:
"O supreme Child of Stars! Your lowly servant, the Astral Ancient Dragon Fiona, has followed the oldest call of my bloodline and at last found the light of your radiance!"
She pressed her right hand firmly over her heart, lowering her head so deeply that her violet hair brushed against the floor.
"Your will shall be the starry path that guides my steps. Your image shall be the constellation I forever look up to. From this moment forth, Fiona's wings shall shield you from the storm, Fiona's claws shall rend apart the thorns in your way. Fiona's life and soul shall be your shield and your sword!"
"Until the seas of stars run dry and the cosmos falls silent, Fiona shall remain by your side, unwavering unto death! I beg you… accept your most humble servant!"
The suddenness and intensity of the declaration left Lilith completely bewildered.
She stared down at the impossibly beautiful purple-haired woman kneeling before her, who had just rattled off a long string of majestic but incomprehensible vows—something about loyalty, protection, destiny, and swearing eternal servitude.
"Eh???"
Lilith's rosy lips formed a perfect little 'O' of surprise, her sky-blue eyes filling with confusion and panic.
What in the world is happening?
She instinctively took a small step back.
"Um… pretty big sister, I think you've got the wrong person. My name's Lilith, not 'Child of Stars.' And, uh, this is literally the first time we've met."
But Fiona raised her head, her eyes blazing even brighter with zeal. Lilith's denial only deepened her certainty.
"No, Your Highness! There can be no mistake! Flowing within you is the noblest, most pristine bloodline of the cosmic sea! This call springs from my very soul—it cannot be wrong. Please, grant me permission to serve you!"
As she spoke, she crept forward on her knees, as though to emphasize her plea.
Lilith, startled, retreated another step.
Colt stood frozen, unsure whether to intervene.
Lilith hesitated, fidgeting. Then she whispered softly, "Um… Sister Fiona, could you stand up first? It'd be easier to talk if you weren't kneeling."
But Fiona shook her head firmly.
"Unless you grant your consent, Fiona shall kneel here forever!"
"…"
Lilith's small face scrunched up miserably. She had never encountered such a situation before. Finally, overwhelmed, she glanced pleadingly toward Colt as though begging for rescue. Colt only returned a helpless look—he was just as lost.
At that moment, as though in response to Fiona's overwhelming devotion and the deep resonance of her bloodline, a faint, gentle radiance bloomed from Lilith's body.
It was a warm starlight, soft yet endless.
Fiona trembled violently. Her elegant fingers brushed the hem of Lilith's dress as though it were a holy relic. A shudder of ecstasy coursed through her, her whole body quivering with awe.
She lowered her head even deeper.
"Thank you… for your divine consent."
"Wha—??" Lilith gasped. "Wait, what did I consent to?!"
But in that instant, whether Lilith truly understood or not, the course of destiny shifted.
The tracks of fate, long foretold by prophecy, converged here.
Dalton Town Core – The Garden of the World Tree
At the deepest heart of Dalton Town, within a palace formed naturally by the colossal, gnarled branches of the World Tree itself, silence reigned.
It was a silence not of emptiness, but of solemn grandeur.
On the central throne sat Leo. He seemed utterly ordinary—like a scholar lost in thought. His fingers tapped idly on the armrest, his eyes distant, as if contemplating matters far beyond the reach of the room.
Before him stood Elizabeth, her posture straight as a blade. She wore the crisp gold-and-blue uniform of a high-ranking officer. Her violet eyes were sharp, her voice firm and precise, every syllable carrying the disciplined cadence of a soldier.
"…The Third Arcane Armored Legion has completed its 'Obsidian Rock' defensive coordination drills. Synchronization rate has risen to ninety-two percent."
"Commander Aragis' knight order has conducted its first cross-planar short-range strike exercise, successfully annihilating the simulated target fortress 'Abyss Stronghold.' Minister Walter's intelligence network has extended to Observation Point Seventeen near the Wormhole Cluster. No large-scale enemy transitions detected as of yet, though harassment frequency has risen by seventeen percent, suggesting reconnaissance probes from enemy outposts…"
Her report was methodical, data exact, painting a chilling picture of Dalton's war machine: precise, efficient, unstoppable.
Then, at the entrance of the branch-woven palace, the air shimmered faintly.
Into the hall walked a purple-haired girl—Fiona, the Astral Ancient Dragon in human form. She was being gently tugged along by Lilith, who clutched her hand as though introducing a new friend.