Chapter Thirty-Four: The Breath of Bright Silver

"The Chronicles of the King of Dim Light, The Buried of the Thirsty, The Confessions of the Mad Monk Clitanus—translated by the Banshee Amelia..."

Georgia looked at the reading list Melina had provided and clutched her head in agony: "Six obscure and incomprehensible anthologies, three twice-as-obscure poetry collections, and a book from another world—translated by that self-proclaimed poet, the crazed Carxian banshee Amelia... Do you have any idea how difficult her writings are to decipher?"

As she spoke, she snuck a glance at Miss Melina, who had insisted on squeezing in next to her despite there being plenty of empty seats in the carriage.

Mr. Mo's vehicle was a dragon-turtle wagon used for cargo, which could accommodate passengers, but both rows of seats were connected benches. The space was cramped. Sitting next to her, Georgia could feel the softness emanating through their winter clothes, accompanied by a sweet, cloying scent that, while not overpowering, was constant and subtly seductive. The girl’s delicate, snow-white skin was another feature; even as a woman herself, Georgia found her gaze drawn to it, tempted to reach out and touch it just to see if it was as cool and ephemeral as a snowflake.

Noticing the look, Miss Melina tightened her grip on her umbrella, leaning in even closer with an air of intimacy. Her black lipstick made her complexion appear even more porcelain-pale.

Miss Melina’s lips parted and closed slowly and instinctively with her breathing, like a cat sensitive to the heat.

"Amelia of Carx is a bit mad, yes, but the anthologies, poetry collections, and translated otherworldly books she wrote in that cryptic language are all keys to magic."

With the black-gauze-clad body pressed against her own, even the substance of the girl's words began to feel secondary. Georgia fought to regain control of her thoughts, straining to focus on the subject of magic, yet she inevitably found her mind wandering back to the girl in the black dress beside her.

Had Miss Melina become this clingy ever since she provided the post-training reading list? No, no—using the word "clingy" meant she lacked a sense of boundaries. Perhaps "enthusiastic" was the right word? Yes, enthusiastic.

Georgia felt the softness of the body beside her and trembled slightly. She pulled keywords from her fragmented thoughts and stammered them out: "Keys?"

"Dreams generate magic factors, and the factors produced by dreams can be secondary principle factors. In other words, by reading these anthologies and poetry collections, the tendencies of your dreams will change—at a deep level. You might not have dreamed at all for a night, but the act of 'sleeping' has been completed, and factors have been produced. We call any reading material that can achieve this effect a 'key'."

If she could, Melina would prefer to explain it in terms of dungeon instances and sweep tickets.

In this world, the [act] is sometimes more important than the [result]. For example, when a person chops wood, they gain [Lumbering Factors] during the process. Through a magic ritual using these [Lumbering Factors], they can ultimately obtain finished timber... You see? Because the act of chopping occurred, the factors exist. Even without felling or processing the wood, one can obtain the finished product.

This is the nature of acts in magic.

Reading a text is such an act. Because you read the poems of the Carxian poet, your sleep generates Carxian poet sleep factors. These sleep factors open a gateway to a dream based on a variable, retrieving some factors from within, which are then stockpiled beside the place of sleep.

You could say it’s like a random dungeon sweep.

The output is entirely random.

And the variable that influences this is the so-called [Ardor Factor], which is only generated when reading certain books.

Regardless of whether it's a good book or a bad one... A good book inspires an overwhelming desire to read, and this desire is converted into factors... A bad book inspires a desire to chase down the author and berate them, and this desire is also converted into [Ardor Factors]. Miss Malin, the elven writer in Brightfalls, is a stable point for [Ardor Factor] generation. The more political and delusional she gets, the more ardor she produces—her whole brand is passion!

"Currently, the anthologies on the market that can generate factors generally follow four paths: bad to the point of writing anything, good to the point of tears, popular mainstream novels, and obscure occult anthologies. Miss Malin belongs to the second category..."

"Is she really that good?" Georgia blurted out.

Melina wore a smile and licked her lower lip: "Your relationship with her seems, actually, quite good?"

"Ah, no, not at all. She’s so annoying," Georgia puffed out her cheeks. "If it weren't for the fact that we’re both from the Weeping Peninsula, I would have finished her off long ago... Um, do you feel a bit cold?"

"Not at all," Melina said, her fingers gently stroking the umbrella handle, her golden pupils glinting with an uncanny crimson hue.

Then, Miss Georgia felt the Melina beside her press even closer.

Unexpectedly clingy... No, wait—enthusiastic!

...

Halfway through the journey, Mr. Mo and his two rat-folk friends let out a shriek.

"Dragon attack! Dragon attack!"

What followed was a violent, exaggerated drift of the dragon-turtle wagon. Georgia was tossed about, completely disoriented. Melina used the tip of her umbrella to maintain balance, kicked open the carriage window as the body of the vehicle tilted, and slid out as nimbly as a deep-sea squid gliding through the ocean.

"Magic: [Soothe Beast]."

Melina chose a spell from the Artisan Principle. Artisan is the principle of creation and maternal love, mostly involving gentle and creative magic. After stabilizing the dragon-turtle, the sound of gunfire erupted nearby. The two rat-folk had pulled out their pistols, returning fire at the attacking dragon with rustic ferocity. Mr. Mo hurried to control the vehicle, cursing, "The wheel is damaged! I have a spare, but..."

"I'll hold it off for you."

Melina leaped from the wagon.

Only then did she see the enemy's appearance.

It was a swamp dragon that had completely transcended its species. Its silver-white neck frills featured sharp barbs, and its claws grew bright silver bone blades resembling scimitars. Its tail had sprouted numerous dragon-bone spikes; it was a living weapon of war. Most terrifying was its head—its dragon horns were thicker, and its small, yellow reptilian eyes hid cunning and cruelty.

"Roar!" It bellowed at the sky, and the humidity in the surrounding air surged instantly.

Melina frowned slightly.

This was a tactile sensation, not an illusion created by magic factors.

"Given the survival environment of swamp dragons and the increasing success of illusions modified by magic factors, has it evolved through directional selection? What a nuisance of a Radiant-class."

Dragon-blood genes are superior to humans.

Because dragon blood, when refined, guarantees 'benign evolution'—meaning they evolve whatever abilities they need, and there is no such thing as an evolved ability that turns out to be useless. The silver-white swamp dragon before her had evolved the genuine magical power to control moisture, and this power seemed to have the ability to steal medicinal properties.

The potency of the potions hanging from Melina’s belt was steadily vanishing.

If an ordinary explorer faced such a Radiant-class beast, they would never realize their potions were being drained; if they tried to drink one during the fight, they would undoubtedly be caught off guard.

Melina could perceive this because her magic factors were stronger than those of this Radiant swamp dragon.

Dragons possess a sense of smell for magic factors as keen as that of a banshee.

The silver-white swamp dragon watched her, pacing dangerously.

The humidity in the air intensified sharply, and Melina's vision was swallowed by a thick fog.

"Here we go."

She waved her hand to summon her armaments, fired a volley into the air in front of her, then leaped forward and opened fire violently behind her.

The sound of bullets hitting flesh coincided with the dragon’s low growl of pain.

Creating a dense fog, deploying a decoy attack in front, and then flanking from behind—the tactical evolution of this swamp dragon had reached this level.

When Melina noticed a flash of yellow scales in the mist, her heart sank.

She jumped immediately.

The silver-white swamp dragon burst from the ground, its claws nearly raking her ankles. The flank attack had been a feint; the silver monster had realized that the strength of this banshee explorer might be completely different—far stronger and more terrifying—than any dragon it had fought before, and thus it had set this trap.

But from its perspective, the strategic ambush had been perfectly executed, only to be dodged by the target’s sheer physical reflexes.

In those cunning and cruel reptilian eyes, there was a flash of remarkably human disappointment.

She locked eyes with it.

Melina’s expression remained calm as she waved her hand.

"Magic: [Nurturing Soil, Mortal of Love]."

Also a spell of the Artisan Principle, it commanded the soil to hold on with love, turning the superhuman into a mortal of emotion. Under the influence of the magic, the earth transformed into thousands of silken threads that draped over the silver-white swamp dragon. These threads were as fragile as human feelings, yet as numerous as they were, thousands of them tangled and bound the swamp dragon’s movements.

Melina opened her parasol in mid-air, floating elegantly. The muzzles of the firearms circling her pointed in unison at the ground, and the magic factors within her boiled instantly!

To achieve maximum power and integrate magic into the firearm technique [Five-Fold Burst], she chanted aloud:

"Look upon my love, let it surge with joy, let love fall like rain!"

Magic: [My Love, Like Blood].

A spell of the Dancer Principle, symbolizing passion and catharsis; combined with the secondary principle of Union and Cruelty, it symbolizes the dominance and risk of love. Combined, the incarnated magic condensed thousands of magic factors into a strike that altered the terrain. Each strand of magic factor would trigger a chain reaction of ten to twenty small explosions. The prototype was a hundred strands of rain falling; Melina had modified it to attach to her five-shot burst.

Fifty magic-factor bullets created from the void rained down upon the earth instantly.

The chain explosions caused the nearby ground to shake noticeably.

Soil, vegetation, blood, and scales sprayed outward, accompanied by the screams of the silver-white swamp dragon.

It was wounded.

If a human were below, even a Level 10 explorer, this strike from Melina might have killed them outright. But against a dragon—even a swamp dragon—it was not guaranteed to be erased by such a magical bombardment. Only weaklings like Howl-Wind dragons would lack such resistance.

Thus, having achieved a wounding result, Melina was satisfied.

Especially since the five-shot technique was inherently a void-creation of ammunition, requiring no consumption of bullets from her magazine...

The silver-white swamp dragon was indeed in a wretched state; its scales were damaged in many places, and the specialized bone organ on its back used to control magic factors had cracked. It was injured. It roared, opened its dragon maw, and a terrifying force of magic factors—one that instilled instinctive fear—began to gather within.

"Dragon breath..."

Melina reached out and pressed the seals on her waist; she had prepared two.

The [Flying Devil] of the Madman Principle, used to provide mobility in the air; its advantage was flight, and it was cheap.

The [Too Young, Too Silly] of the Star Principle, used for blinking. Its advantage was the blink itself; the disadvantage was that a blink couldn't save a love that was too young and too silly, and it was very expensive.

Both could be used to toy with this dragon breath.

Just as Melina stood ready, a cunning light flashed in the silver-white swamp dragon’s eyes. It whipped its head, and the bright silver dragon breath spewed toward the dragon-turtle wagon that was currently undergoing repairs.

"..."

Melina puffed out her cheeks, and with a swift motion, she slapped the [Too Young, Too Silly] seal at her waist.