“So, Little White Dragon, how was today?” Tartarus asked, her voice warm as banked embers.

By the time Lilith returned to Tartarus’s home, night had swallowed the sky. A round moon hung like a silver plate, and the Dragon Territory lay asleep beneath its veil, save for the solitary Silver Dragon keeping a quiet vigil.

The crimson giant had taken a human shape, robe flowing like smoldering silk, and watched the Little White Dragon with eyes like coals.

Lilith and Typhon huddled over steaming bowls, eating the dinner Tartarus had made, the aroma curling like mist over a river.

After a day of fatigue, two little dragons were famished; even Lilith, whose appetite was small, took another bowl, the rice shining like pearls.

At Tartarus’s gentle question, Lilith lifted her head from the bowl, face flushed like dawn, and looked at the Red Dragon.

“Mm, the mentors were very warm,” she said, the words tumbling like pebbles down a slope. “They gave me lots of good things.”

She lowered her gaze and counted her gifts, palms catching four Lightstones, gems like frozen sunbeams—pure element condensed, surely not cheap.

“Dragon magic is fascinating,” she breathed, delight flickering like fireflies. “It’s nothing like the human spells I used to know.”

“Is it?” Tartarus smiled, her calm like still water. “Which kind feels stronger to you?”

She kept her tone soft as falling snow. “You’ll walk one path in the end. First impressions carry like birds on the wind. Magic shouldn’t be judged by tangled thought. Trust your heart’s compass.”

“Uh… I think they’re all equally strong,” Lilith said, uncertainty pooling like a shadow.

A witch’s black silhouette slid into being beside her. Mona floated with a stormy face, her wand hovering over Lilith’s head like the Sword of Damocles.

Fear pricked like thorns; Lilith remembered her tsundere witch friend was still drifting at her shoulder. One wrong word and—bonk—she’d be a dead dragon on the floor.

“Then,” Tartarus said, reading the awkward air like drifting smoke, “has Lilith decided which one to choose?”

“Mm… Dragon magic is all so interesting,” Lilith murmured, chin propped on her palm, thoughts spiraling like eddies. “I don’t like the Water Dragon’s biological research, and the Red Dragon’s life magic doesn’t fit the power of Taint.”

She breathed out, eyes glinting like frost. “But I’m very interested in the other three mentors.”

“Lirum said I’m a child blessed by nature,” she continued, warmth rising like sunlight through leaves. “I can resonate with nature easily, so learning the Earth Dragon’s magic would be easy.”

“Fafnir’s Death Magic feels very similar to the power of Taint,” she said, a chill like night fog. “If I choose it, it should come naturally.”

“Asterios’s frost magic—Typhon can guide me—and starlight just looks so intriguing,” she whispered, the word “stars” twinkling like dew.

She fell into a hard tangle of indecision, her heart caught like a fish in a net; she wanted everything, yet understood that greed chews more than it can swallow.

˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅

“It seems you’re keen on all three,” Tartarus said with a smile like a lantern in mist. “Sadly, you can only pick one mentor.”

Lilith released the hand that had been clawing at her hair, lifted her gaze like a sprout toward the sun, and asked, “Mama, do you have a recommendation?”

“You can’t ask me,” Tartarus said, shaking her head, solemn as a mountain. “This is your own affair; you must decide it yourself.”

“Choosing a mentor is the first great matter a newborn White Dragon faces,” she continued, voice steady as bedrock. “Even the Dragon Emperor can’t interfere.”

“If you choose a field a White Dragon doesn’t love, even the best talent will wither like a seed in sand. Don’t ask me—ask your own heart.”

“My heart?” Lilith lowered her head and looked at her right hand. On the Hero’s Mark, a new star blinked like a lighthouse, as if welcoming her onto the starlight road.

She didn’t want to be rash; caution tightened like a belt. She rose and said to Tartarus, “I want to go back to my room and think it through. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine, child,” Tartarus said, warmth pouring like tea. “You have time. The deadline is three days from now. Before the fourth sunrise, you may choose your mentor.”

“Think well, newborn little dragon,” she added, a blessing like a soft breeze.

————————

“System, are you there?” Lilith sat on her soft little bed, the quilts cloudlike, and called out on instinct.

“What is it?” A small blue figure drifted from within her like smoke from a brazier, listless and sour-faced. “I haven’t even finished analyzing.”

“You know how much stuff you’re carrying,” he grumbled, words knocking like stones. “Tracking every single thing tied to the constellations is way too much work.”

“But I’ve just been gifted a star,” Lilith said, tapping the star on her hand, its glow like a firefly. “Everything on me is stained with starlight now.”

“Continuing the search seems pointless,” she pleaded, hope like a thin flame. “Help me pick a mentor.”

“Tartarus already said it,” the System snapped, annoyance crackling like static. “You have to decide this yourself. Why are you asking me?”

“Oh come on, you’re the system granted by a god,” Lilith said, trust like sunlight on stone. “You’re always right.”

“I can’t decide,” she admitted, nerves fluttering like leaves. “I’d rather hear your advice.”

“My advice is: don’t choose the Earth Dragon,” the System said, blunt as a hammer. “Pure element magic has a low ceiling. With enough experience, you can learn it from me anyway.”

“The Black Dragon and the Silver Dragon are both solid,” he continued, laying options like cards. “Death Magic can merge with the power of Taint. You might really inherit the Demon King.”

“And the Silver Dragon’s starlight can reinforce your Hero and Saint powers,” he said, a gleam like dawn. “That Icarus likely governs the stars. Cultivating starlight should strengthen your bond with Icarus.”

“Wait—inherit the Demon King?” Lilith’s heart lurched like a startled bird. She’d slain the Demon King; all the Taint was inside her; the Demon King should have vanished. How could she inherit it?

“Are you dense?” the System rapped her head, the taps like knuckles on wood. “The Taint was absorbed, not erased.”

“As long as Taint exists, a Demon King exists,” he said, truth heavy as iron. “It’s suppressed by your power right now.”

“The selection follows Taint’s concentration,” he added, logic ticking like gears. “You carry all the world’s Taint.”

“Strictly speaking, you should be the strongest Demon King since the world began,” he finished, a dark crown lowering like a storm.

“Don’t believe me? Look at your left hand.”

Lilith raised her left hand, and terror washed over her like cold rain. A dirty dark-red mark stained her skin, a twin to the Demon King’s crest.

Bad—was she really turning into the Demon King?

How could I become the Demon King? No, no! ______ (2 pts.)

“System, I’ve decided,” Lilith blurted, panic flaring like wildfire. “Tomorrow I’ll go find Asterios.”

“I want Lord Icarus to take all the Taint off me,” she said, resolve hardening like ice. “I won’t become that thing, neither human nor beast—a Demon King.”

“Hey, don’t rush,” the System sighed, helplessness spreading like a sigh of wind. “With me assisting, what are you afraid of?”

“Even if you do turn, you’d be a world‑ending Black Dragon loli,” he said, wicked humor like a spark. “Not one of those giant meatballs.”

“How is that any better?” Lilith protested, pride beating like a drum. “I’m a proud Tianchao man!”

She imagined a scene rising like heat waves: herself small, in a revealing black dragon‑scale gown, perched on a Demon King throne under ten thousand stares.

A young, weak White Dragon, crowned only because of excess Taint; vassals plotting like rats to siphon it away; then a visiting lady Hero challenging her under blazing banners.

If she slipped and lost, she’d be pinned down and—

“Hey, host, what did you just picture?” the System groaned, exasperation like rain on a tin roof. “I’m the blessing of a great, kind Creation Goddess.”

“I’ve noticed you brag daily you’re a stalwart Tianchao man who’ll go home someday,” he said, dry as dust. “But you’ve clearly accepted this body and spin weird daydreams all the time.”

“Anyone would think you’re a little lewd.”

“N‑no,” Lilith stammered, cheeks steaming like kettle lids. “I’m not becoming any Demon King!”

“I’m a Hero—Hero!” she declared, faith blazing like a torch. “Saint and Hero, two in one, a savior! Becoming a Demon King is absurd!”

“Add a Demon King too,” the System muttered, mischief like a cat’s grin. “Then you can stack a threefold aspect for extra attack.”

“Alright,” he said at last, a thought condensing like dew. “I have an idea.”

“What?” Lilith tilted her head, curiosity peeking like a bird from a nest.

“Why not pick two?” he asked, the suggestion shining like twin stars under one sky.

“Huh?” Her voice landed like a dropped pebble into still water.