Dream.

A lucid dream.

Rogue stood with legs slightly apart, body lowered. He gripped a wooden sword, eyes fixed straight ahead, unmoving.

Holding the sword in a horse stance—this was his current training.

Or rather, what this body was doing. Rogue had his own consciousness but couldn’t control it. His vision followed its movements; he sensed surroundings through sound. He’d definitely fallen asleep ten minutes ago. So this… perhaps due to that silver glimmer when Lilitha touched him?

Rogue couldn’t figure it out, but the scene intrigued him.

A lake lay surrounded by towering trees dozens of meters high. Sunlight shimmered on the water, refracting icy blue. Beside it stood a treehouse—likely this body’s home.

Even more astonishing: the clear sky teemed with mighty dragons soaring freely. One spread its wings, casting shadows over half the lake.

Dragons were famed across the continent as rare and powerful.

Even lesser dragons with diluted bloodlines were formidable; their entire bodies were precious treasures. Nearly every race admired the Dragon Clan.

As far as Rogue knew, only one place gathered many dragons: Dragon Isle.

Suddenly, a near-hundred-meter Silver Dragon shot down from the sky, aiming to crash. Its imposing presence made Rogue’s heart race.

“Roar!”

The massive Silver Dragon roared, then transformed into a human just before impact, landing lightly.

Silver Dragon King Gudexia!

The name surfaced in Rogue’s mind the moment he saw the mature man.

The uncontrolled body halted its stance, wiped sweat, and almost spoke—when another dragon flew over. This one was tiny, delicate.

“Awooo~”

The young dragon roared, then “thud” crashed into the grass. Soft earth swallowed its head; its body arched backward, struggling like someone had shoved it face-first. Oddly comical.

“Ah! Lilitha!!!” Gudexia’s hair stood on end. He rushed over, pulled his daughter out, brushed off mud, and chanted a healing spell over her.

“I told you: slow down when landing! Don’t just charge! Control your wings! And roar with presence—not ‘awooo’! You’re a dragon!”

Rogue understood the draconic words perfectly—this body’s ability.

After a while, Gudexia sighed deeply and turned to Rogue. “Ahem. My daughter’s learning to fly. It’s tough at first. Kid, you saw nothing, right?”

Rogue’s lips moved; words came out, but as mere consciousness, he couldn’t hear them.

Gudexia nodded at the young dragon. “Lilitha? All Dragon Clan hatchlings are like this. We can’t shapeshift at birth. After entering growth phase and shifting form, we grow fast.”

“How fast? Human example: post-shift, we’re half a meter tall. Within three years, adult height. Body develops first, then intelligence surges.”

The body spoke more. Gudexia pulled a wooden sword from his spatial bag. “Alright, let me test your swordsmanship!”

They squared off. Rogue felt the body’s novice skill—missing counter chances against Gudexia repeatedly.

The fight was one-sided. Soon, the body lay bruised and exhausted on the ground.

Gudexia laughed heartily, hands on hips. “Hahaha! Kid, you lack seasoning. We dragons aren’t sword specialists, but I’ll teach infusing light into your blade.”

“For world-class swordsmanship? Go to your human Gracy Kingdom. Or the Beastfolk’s Swordwhet Tribe. Their arts are truly unmatched.”

What followed were days Rogue found boring yet yearned for.

Training with Gudexia by day. Nights lying on grass, lost in thought—until little Lilitha snuggled close. Then the dream ended.

Rogue opened his eyes. Estate steward Puppet No. 2 stood beside him, gurgling to wake him.

The clock showed feeding time for Lilitha.

Rogue had been exhausted last night; normally, he’d rise an hour earlier.

He motioned No. 2 away, sat up, and stared at his palm.

Slightly channeling magic, a silver orb appeared. A new ability upon waking—intuitively tied to dreams.

No mana drained. No life force consumed like Witty Magic.

This wasn’t magic.

More like an innate soul-level power.

Wondrous. It could read others’ dreams within limits, implant content subconsciously, and let him perceive his own dreams clearly.

Dreams were hazy—most forgotten by dawn, faint impressions lingering. A lucid dream meant fully realizing you’re dreaming.

Rogue had experienced that last night.

Moreover, that dream was likely a past memory.

Gudexia, Lilitha, sword practice—even mentions of Gracy Kingdom and Beastfolk tribes. All real. Gracy Kingdom was where he’d been before amnesia.

Moy said recovering memory might start with Lilitha.

Did he mean this dream’s content?

Had he known Lilitha before?

Things were messy. Rogue washed up, deciding to sort it later. More such dreams might unravel his origins and lost memories.

“First, feed Lilitha.”

He walked to Lilitha’s warehouse. Half an hour past feeding time—Rogue’s first tardiness.

This coincidence revealed Lilitha’s unfamiliar side inside.

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