Chapter 13: First Encounter with Humans
A full week had passed since that troublesome heat cycle.
Livia was sprawled out in the main hall of her lair, listlessly fiddling with the pile of scrap metal the Kobolds had offered as tribute, her wings drooping slightly.
The three piercing holes scratched by the Stone-Winged Demon a few days ago had completely healed—a Red Dragon's recovery speed was truly unreasonable; in seven days, the holes were filled, new scales had grown back, shining brightly enough to reflect light, looking even more vigorous than the originals.
She stared at the pile of ore until she was almost asleep, feeling increasingly stifled the longer she stayed.
Hunting? Didn't feel like moving.
Mining? Too humiliating.
Soaking in magma? She was close to shedding her skin from soaking too much.
Finally, she reached a conclusion:
She needed to go out for some fresh air, purely to relax, not to pursue any grand endeavors.
And the only way to slip out unnoticed was—
To turn human.
The basic Transfiguration Technique awarded by the system worked, but it was unreliable, extremely unreliable, and particularly unreliable.
Livia stood by the edge of the Lava Lake. A flash of white light, and when she opened her eyes again, she had transformed from a twenty-meter-long Red Dragon into a red-haired young woman who looked to be in her early twenties.
She looked down at her new shell:
Her skin was unbelievably pale, completely unlike a dragon who constantly baked in magma.
Her eyes... were still vertical pupils, impossible to fully conceal; when narrowed, they revealed an unsettling, otherworldly aura.
The outfit she wore was the absolute worst—a drab, coarse cloth dress, wide and oversized, styled so clumsily it resembled the protective workwear handed out at construction sites in her previous life, designed purely for being plain enough to become invisible.
She lifted her arms and kicked her legs, minimally adapting to this weak and fragile body.
Just as she was about to step out, she suddenly felt something heavy dragging behind her.
Livia:?
She whipped her head around.
A dragon tail, fully a meter long, covered in fiery red scales, with tiny sparks still sputtering at the tip, was swinging brazenly outside her skirt, leisurely swaying left and right, even flicking its tip slightly toward her as if waving hello.
Livia: "..."
She stared at the tail for three seconds in silence.
The tail also stopped, waiting obediently.
Livia took a deep breath and commanded frantically in her mind: Retract! Pull it back in!
The tail moved, shrinking back by ten centimeters.
Livia: Retract more!
It shrank another ten centimeters.
After struggling with the tail for half a day, her cheeks flushed red from the effort, but the disobedient dragon tail stubbornly remained half a meter exposed, refusing to be tucked away, as stubborn as a thick winter coat that wouldn't fit into a suitcase.
Livia completely gave up struggling.
Half a meter is half a meter, then.
She tugged at the hem of her skirt, tightly covering the base of the tail, deciding to ignore what she couldn't see. As long as she didn't look down, no one would notice the fire-breathing tail dragging behind her.
Disguise complete, Livia walked out of the volcano crater with a composed expression, strolling down the ash-covered slope.
The ash underfoot was loose and soft; stepping on it caused her foot to sink to her ankle, making her extremely unhappy.
She wandered slowly for half an hour before finally reaching the foot of the mountain and stepping onto the scorched, cracked, fire-attributed plain.
Hot air occasionally puffed out from the fissures in the ground, and the air always carried a faint scent of sulfur, which smelled better to her than perfume.
She wandered in the direction of the underground river source from last time, planning to check if the Kobolds had been diligent with their labor.
After walking a little further, Livia suddenly stopped.
A path appeared beneath her feet.
It wasn't a small trail made by beasts, but a small road trodden by humans—the surface was flat, showing clear footprints.
She squatted down to observe closely.
The footprints were fresh, no more than a day old.
Five, no, six of them: there were prints from leather boots, straw sandals, and next to one set of prints, every few steps, there was a small circular hole—
Made by a staff poke.
A mage.
Livia's eyes lit up slightly.
Living humans.
In her entire life, she had never seen one alive.
She immediately lightened her steps, like a cat sneaking out, and followed the tracks.
After less than fifteen minutes of walking, a stretch of low hills appeared ahead.
A cave was hidden in the shadow of the hill, and smoke curled lazily from the entrance—not volcanic smoke, but cooking smoke, carrying the scent of food.
Livia immediately crouched low and circled around to the side of the hill, poking half her head out to peek inside.
Six people were sitting neatly outside the cave entrance.
Their equipment showed they were proper adventurers: sword, shield, bow, and staff were all present, and each wore a silver badge on their chest engraved with the pattern of a sword and flames.
In fantasy settings, this was called a Silver-ranked adventuring party; they had killed monsters and seen blood, so they weren't complete rookies.
But right now, these six looked utterly miserable.
They were all dusty and grimy, their clothes covered in volcanic ash, their faces blackened by soot, looking as if they had just crawled out of a coal pile.
Two team members had bandages wrapped around their arms and legs, and the blood seeping out had turned black and dried.
In the middle, an Old Mage in his fifties with a huge beard was squatting by the fire, brewing medicine. The liquid in the pot was bubbling, and the smell was both bitter and pungent; Livia wrinkled her nose even from afar.
A burly warrior with a brutish face was grumbling while kicking pebbles:
"What kind of hellhole is this! A trash mission! We were supposed to find a fire lotus, haven't seen a single one, and we've already lost two brothers!"
The young archer beside him was huddled in a corner, head down, clearly depressed.
A woman in leather armor was changing the bandages for the injured, her technique extremely rough. With one forceful movement, the injured man grimaced in pain, his sharp gasp audible ten meters away.
Livia squatted behind the grass, watching with great interest.
Humans.
So interesting.
So weak, so fragile, so noisy, prone to freaking out over minor things, with pitifully short lifespans, yet they dared to venture into this monster-infested volcanic region to court death.
As she was engrossed in watching, a chill suddenly ran down her spine.
... Someone was behind her.
Livia slowly turned around.
A young man stood three meters behind her, tightly gripping his sword. The tip of the blade trembled slightly as it pointed at her. His face was as pale as paper, his lips quivering, and his eyes were filled with the terror of someone who had seen a ghost.
His gaze was not on her face, nor her clothes, but fixed—staring dead straight—
On her half-meter dragon tail that hadn't been hidden properly, was gently swaying, and was still emitting sparks.
The air solidified for three seconds.
The man swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and finally managed to squeeze out a broken sentence:
"You... you... your tail..."
Livia followed his gaze and looked down behind herself.
The skirt hadn't covered it.
The tail was exposed.
And it was sparking.
One word flashed through her mind instantly:
Crap.
She forgot to retract it.
At the critical moment, Livia's expression didn't change. She opened her mouth and spoke immediately, her tone as calm as if commenting on the nice weather:
"I am a cursed noble. It's rare to see, so you are surprised."
The young man froze instantly: "C-cursed?"
"Yes."
Livia said flatly, lying through her teeth, "It's hereditary. My tail pops out at night and breathes fire."
As soon as she finished speaking, the tip of her tail cooperatively let out a small burst of sparks with a "Pfft" sound.
The man stared at the flickering little flame, his eyes wider than bronze bells, his entire body completely stiffened like a wooden stake.
Just then, an impatient shout came from the direction of the cave:
"Eric! What are you dawdling for back there!"
The young man suddenly snapped back to reality, turned around, and yelled like a madman:
"Captain! There's... there's someone here!"
The next second—
A loud commotion erupted.
The five people scrambled out, grabbing their weapons, instantly surrounding Livia. Swords were drawn, the atmosphere tense enough to explode.
Livia stood motionless in the center of the circle, scanning the six people before her.
Six against one.
She was in human form, possessing only a tenth of her true strength.
But if a real fight broke out, taking down four in three seconds wouldn't be a problem.
It was just unnecessary; it would dirty her hands.
Her gaze fell upon the captain, who was standing in the middle.
In his thirties, square-jawed, scruffy beard, his half-plate armor was tattered. He was carrying a greatsword, a typical leader of a low-tier adventuring party, exuding a greasy and aggressive aura.
The captain sized up Livia from head to toe, deliberately pausing his gaze on her exposed tail for two seconds, then slowly moving it back to her face, his eyes carrying ill intent.
"A cursed noble?"
"Mm."
Livia nodded calmly.
"Which family?"
"The Northlands."
She made it up on the spot, "The Novati family."
The captain frowned, looking disdainful: "Never heard of it."
"A minor family, long since fallen."
Livia said without batting an eye.
The captain fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly stepped forward, radiating a greasy aura. He grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth, and his tone became flirtatious to the point of being punchable:
"A curse, huh... perfect. Let big brother help you lift it—"
Before he could finish speaking.
Livia's eyes didn't change at all. The half-meter dragon tail behind her instantly exerted force.
It was so fast that only a red blur remained.
"WHACK—!"
The tail lashed fiercely against the captain's stomach.
The next second, everyone only saw a human figure soaring into the air, tracing a standard, smooth parabolic arc—
Over the low hill, over the campfire, over everyone's shocked gazes—
"Aaaah—!!!"
He fell straight into the bottomless volcanic fissure behind the cave.
The scream grew fainter and smaller, until a very slight "plop" was heard.
Then, complete silence.
The scene was dead quiet.
The remaining five people were frozen in place, like five statues struck by lightning.
The Old Mage's ladle was frozen mid-air, drops of medicine falling onto the ground, sizzling and steaming the rock.
The archer's mouth was open, his jaw nearly hitting the ground.
The woman in leather armor was deathly pale, her lips trembling uncontrollably, her hand gripping the dagger shaking violently.
Every single person's gaze fell squarely on Livia's tail, which was still swaying gently.
Livia calmly flicked the tip of her tail, shaking off a small piece of torn cloth clinging to it, as if merely dusting off a speck of dirt.
She looked up at the remaining five people, her tone frighteningly calm:
"Does anyone else want help lifting their curse?"
The five people shook their heads like rattles, uniformly, so fast that afterimages appeared.
Livia nodded in satisfaction:
"Very well. Then I'm leaving."
She turned and walked away, her steps unhurried, her posture elegant.
After taking only two steps, the Old Mage's trembling yet persistent voice came from behind her:
"Wait—wait a moment!"
Livia turned back impatiently.
The Old Mage's face was still pale, but his eyes no longer flickered away; instead, they shone frighteningly—it wasn't fear, but the fervent curiosity of a scholar encountering a rare specimen.
He shakily pointed at her tail: "Th-that... is it really a curse? I... I have studied curses for decades, could I—could I get a closer look...?"
Livia stared at him for two seconds.
She didn't speak.
The tip of her tail lifted slightly.
"Pfft—"
A tiny, perfectly aimed spark shot directly onto the Old Mage's beard.
"Aaaah—!!!"
The Old Mage shrieked, clutching his smoking beard and jumping backward frantically, hopping around in place.
Livia turned and walked away expressionlessly.
This time, no one dared to call out to her again.
She ambled slowly back toward the volcanic region, encountering no obstacles along the way, feeling inexplicably refreshed.
Bulling humans seemed even more stress-relieving than soaking in magma.
Halfway back, Livia suddenly stopped.
She abruptly remembered an overlooked detail.
When that greasy captain who fell into the fissure was cursing, he seemed to mention one word—
"fire lotus."
... A Thousand-Year fire lotus?
Livia's eyes instantly lit up.
She remembered: the system data clearly recorded:
The Thousand-Year fire lotus is a supreme treasure of the Fire element, growing in extremely hot places. It can greatly enhance Fire Affinity and accelerate bloodline evolution, and the effect is even doubled for top-tier Fire Dragons like Red Dragons.
So those reckless humans were here looking for this thing.
Livia stopped where she was and pondered for a tenth of a second.
The next second, she abruptly turned around, flicking her tail, her steps light, and retraced her path.
How could such a good thing as a fire lotus be given to humans?
Of course, it should be...
First come, first served.
I, Livia, will not only meet humans for the first time today, but I'll also pick up a treasure along the way.