“Alright, alright—let’s douse this brushfire. The real thing that matters is Jiu Jiu’s dragons’ lodgings; otherwise, where do you sleep tonight?”

Since Alicia stepped in like cool rain on hot stones, Jiu Jiu couldn’t just ignore her. Frustration prickled like nettles, and she dropped her glare at Ling.

“You don’t need to worry. I scouted the terrain while landing, like a hawk skimming valleys. A few tweaks there, and it’ll be fine.”

“Is that so? Tweak it however you want—but remember to do the mind work with your dragons, drill them—”

“Teach them to follow the rules of the Mystic Realm, right? You’ve said it a dozen times like a temple bell, and I don’t need it again.”

The Ninety Nine Maiden’s impatience flashed like flint, and Alicia’s urge to press harder rose like a gathering storm—until someone cut in like a bell through fog.

“Alicia…”

A third voice rose at her side, and Alicia didn’t strike. The tone was familiar, warm as a hearth—Remi’s voice.

“I’ve got a report—urgent and heavy as thunder. I need you back here.”

Alicia lowered her gaze, weighing stones on a scale. She confirmed there was nothing left for her among the Dragonfolk, then nodded like a leaf settling.

“Got it. I’ll head over in a bit.”

With that answer, Remi’s voice faded like ripples on a pond.

Alicia looked back to the Ninety Nine Maiden, thought a moment, then sighed like wind through pines, still uneasy.

“Fine, I’ll stop nagging. You manage your Dragonfolk. I’m taking Ling and Arthas back first. Remember what I said.”

She spoke, and one hand clasped Ling’s, while the other caught Arthas’s, pulling them like two saplings ready to run with the wind.

“Wait!”

She’d barely set a foot down when another shout nailed them to the ground like an arrow in wood.

Alicia kept silent, but Ling bristled first, like a cat with its fur up.

Anyone would bristle when a rushing river of tasks gets dammed by a sudden shout.

She turned and shot a glare cold as frost at the interrupter—a Black Dragon whelp, the same one who’d hassled her earlier.

“If you’ve got business with Sis, spit it out already!”

But the little Black Dragon didn’t go to Alicia. He drifted toward Ling like a shadow sliding over stone, his height matching hers so his eyes could lock straight on.

“I’m here for you…”

As he spoke, his gaze held hers, and Ling saw those golden dragon pupils flicker like sunlight on a lake.

“Sorry—I already like someone. You’re a good guy.”

She tossed the classic triple rejection like three arrows in a row.

Come on—eyes that sticky with feeling only mean one thing, like honey trying to glue you.

Ling doesn’t like men—but that doesn’t mean she’s into nonhuman fantasies; those glossy little picture-book things aren’t her reality, like painted wings that never fly.

Clearly, she read the wind wrong.

He tilted his head like a curious sparrow, not getting the triple hit at all. He let it slide and kept to his line like a stream carving stone.

“I just… want to know your name.”

My… name???

“Why do you want my name?” Her guard rose like ivy climbing a wall.

Was he planning to start with “friends” and then push deeper? She backed half a step, building a safety ring like chalk on stone, wanting distance from this black-scaled kid with ambitious eyes.

The little Black Dragon missed her deliberate retreat, puffing his chest like a proud rooster under sunrise.

“Hmph! Letting me know your name is rare treasure for you. And once I know it, finding you for ‘revenge’ will be easy.”

That explanation hit, and Ling realized her own mind had rolled in mud. Shame bloomed on her cheeks like peach petals.

Would her attitude soften toward the one who made her this flustered? Thorns out—it wouldn’t.

“Hmph! Don’t you call us that ‘Demon Lord’ title? Use that for me, and be done.”

“No. I need the name that’s yours alone, so I can track you and take my revenge. If I fail, my dragon pride gets a permanent stain on its scales.”

“You’re already black enough.”

Ling snapped it like a twig. Back in her past life, this taffy-sticky type was hated, clinging like sugar on teeth.

“No. I still need your name.” His insistence hammered like an anvil under fire.

The Black Dragon didn’t budge; his resolve rooted deeper, like a pine gripping a cliff.

“I’m sure I mentioned my name the first time we discussed an alliance.”

“Hmph! Back then, I had no interest remembering the names of the weak.”

He said it with winter-cold arrogance, even after being beaten easily. He still saw Ling as lesser, nose tilted up to the clouds.

“So why are you interested now?!”

“Because you subdued the Undead King, whose strength is only a notch below mine. That puts you at least on par with me. I respect strong ones like iron meets iron.”

Shameless words flowed like oil on water. Who knows what knots twist inside this Black Dragon’s head.

Maybe dragons are fools before they come of age, and wisdom ripens like grain only later?

Not wanting to waste breath on anyone below average, Ling turned with wind at her heels, tugging Alicia along like leaves in a stream.

But the Black Dragon didn’t let go. He streaked ahead like a hawk’s shadow and barred the path like a fallen tree. Without an answer, she wasn’t leaving today.

“What’s your name?!”

Annoyance surged; her temple throbbed like drums in heavy rain. Now she knew how it feels to be stuck by taffy.

“Fine… since you want to know…”

She closed her eyes—breath rose like fog—opened them. Her pupils wore thunder like a crown.

“Remember this: my name is Zhuge Kongming, an Enforcer of Justice just passing through.”

The Black Dragon’s pupils trembled, stirred by those five words like a gong under a storm.

Mind or heart—it didn’t matter. His battle-blood surged, a geyser of heat; in comic-book ink, you’d call it hot-blooded.

“Zhuge Kongming! You remember me too. My name… is Husky! I’m the great Husky who will beat the Dragon King someday. And I’ll challenge you again!”