Chapter 25: The Mask

"What is this?" Lin Nian had been prepared for his worldview to crumble, but upon opening the case, he found that its contents were neither magical nor mythological artifacts—it was merely a stone mask the size of a human face.

"Allow me to introduce it. This mask was unearthed in 1922 by the British archaeologist Marshall, the same man who discovered the Mohenjo-daro site that year. We suspect the mask was excavated from those very ruins. He believed it to be a product of the Indus Valley Civilization from 2600 B.C. and brought it back to be displayed in a museum, but it was stolen in 1940 and recovered by us in Leningrad in 1946." Masashi Toyama handed Lin Nian a magnifying glass. "Look at the weathering on the surface. If the dating is correct, this mask has existed for over four thousand years!"

"Forgive my candor, but I don't see what this mask has to do with 'dragons'." Lin Nian took the magnifying glass and examined the mask closely. Unfortunately, his high school history lessons provided no knowledge of artifact appraisal; even if they had given him a microscope, it would have been useless.

"No, this mask is not currently in its true form. It actually hides some unknown, dark secrets," Toyama said. "Try putting a drop of blood on it."

"Blood?" Lin Nian looked up at him.

Toyama did not explain, simply handing him a lancet.

Lin Nian hesitated after taking it, but ultimately pricked his finger, squeezed out a drop of bright red blood, and let it fall onto the stone mask in the case.

In Lin Nian's vision, the bead of blood rolled slowly through the air, shifting into irregular shapes before being pulled by gravity onto the center of the mask's forehead.

*Tap.*

In the quiet study, the sound of the blood droplet falling seemed exceptionally heavy.

The next moment, the stone mask in the case began to tremble. Its lips actually started to open and close on their own. Three seconds later, the mask emitted a muffled thud, and six sharp spikes burst out from the left and right sides, propping the entire mask up inside the case!

Lin Nian recoiled in shock, but Toyama gently pressed against his back to signal him to stay calm. "Don't be afraid. As long as you don't rashly put it on your face, you are perfectly safe."

Lin Nian steadied himself and looked toward Lin Xian, only to find her staring intently at the mask. The spikes that had burst out were not straight but curved, twelve in total, long and short, forming a circle that enclosed the space of an adult's head. The entire mask had transformed into the shape of a crude helmet.

"Is this mask a murder weapon?" Lin Nian plucked up the courage to step forward and asked as he watched the lips continue to twitch. "If someone wore this mask and it came into contact with blood, these spikes would instantly pierce through their skull, wouldn't they?"

"They would. According to our tests, after the stone mask is stained with blood, the spikes erupt at an astonishing speed of 380 meters per second, breaking the sound barrier. The hardness of these spikes is beyond imagination—harder than any known natural material. It could pierce through steel in one go," Toyama said. "If you don't believe me, you can try to bend the spikes. We won't ask for compensation even if you break them."

"You said it yourself." Lin Nian boldly reached out and touched one of the spikes. It felt cold and smooth, like jade. He then realized that unlike the surface of the mask, these newly emerged spikes showed no signs of weathering at all; he truly had no idea where they had been hiding inside the mask.

Lin Nian gripped a spike with three fingers of his right hand and applied a bit of force. The feedback was incredibly rigid. He increased his effort step by step, only to find that the spike didn't show the slightest sign of deformation. Finally, he had to give up. "What is the purpose of this mask? Just to kill?"

"Kill? Would anyone put such a suspicious mask on their face? Besides, it requires blood to trigger; no other liquid will work." Toyama smiled and shook his head. "I mentioned earlier that this alchemical item was stolen in 1940. Can you think of anything?"

1940?

Lin Nian paused, caught off guard. Lin Xian looked at him and asked, "What years did the Second World War span?"

"September 1, 1939, to September 2, 1945," Lin Nian recited as if answering a textbook question.

"Apply what you learn. I've told you before, even if you have a good memory, you must constantly consolidate your knowledge," Lin Xian sighed.

Lin Nian felt a bit embarrassed, rubbed his nose, and asked Toyama, "What does this mask have to do with World War II?"

"After the mask was stolen in 1940, we found it again in 1946. We rediscovered it in Saint Petersburg, which was then Leningrad." Toyama stepped forward and used a white handkerchief to gently wipe the blood off the mask. The twelve spikes instantly retracted, returning to a state of calm. "When you hear 'Leningrad,' what comes to mind?"

"Is this an impromptu history lesson?" Lin Nian said. "The Siege of Leningrad. The Soviet Union achieved a milestone victory, and the German army retreated."

"Your history is quite good. I suggest you take electives in Draconic Genealogy and Draconic Lineage Theory. People with good memories usually do well in humanities subjects." Toyama smiled and looked back at the mask. "Since you know about the Siege of Leningrad, you must also know that it lasted for nine hundred days—the longest siege in history, without exception."

"And what does this mask have to do with that battle?"

"The true function of this mask isn't to kill; it's to create the people who do the killing," Toyama said.

"Create... the people who kill?" Lin Nian was stunned.

"During the Siege of Leningrad, there were hundreds of mysterious murder cases within the city. Some claimed to have seen werewolves on the streets at night, while others said they saw giant hyenas. But regardless of what they were, the victims all suffered the same fate: left as mangled remains with massive amounts of flesh missing."

Hearing the word "flesh," Lin Nian's face paled slightly. "You mean..."

"After putting on the mask and adding a drop of blood, the 'Living Soul' within the mask is awakened. The twelve spikes shoot out simultaneously, piercing twelve points in the human brain at varying depths. It is brutal, but not immediately fatal," Toyama explained. "However, the person wearing the mask becomes something else—a product closely tied to the dragon race: a Ghoul."

"Living Soul? Ghoul?" Lin Nian instinctively looked toward Manstein, who stood before the bookshelf with his hands behind his back, watching him silently.

"You can imagine a 'Living Soul' as a spirit inhabiting an alchemical object; under normal circumstances, it is harmless. A Ghoul, however, is a product of an abnormally high concentration of Draconic blood. Those who mutate into Ghouls take on draconic traits, growing scales and claws. Their human consciousness blurs, and their psychology regresses into that of a monster that only craves flesh. At the same time, their physiology undergoes massive alterations driven by their psychological state; their speed, endurance, and strength increase abnormally," Toyama explained. "The werewolves and hyenas the citizens of Leningrad claimed to see were these creatures. The local garrison imposed a curfew and conducted a city-wide search to suppress public panic. There are rumors that the garrison did indeed find 'werewolves' and burned them with flamethrowers. We later deduced that these so-called werewolves were Ghouls created by the stone mask."

"This mask can create the monsters you're talking about?" Lin Nian's gaze toward the mask grew dangerous.

"Not exactly," Toyama shook his head. "If it could be mass-produced, our world would have belonged to the Nazis long ago. There are significant limitations to the mask's ability to create Ghouls. One condition is that the person wearing the mask must be a Hybrid."

"Hybrid." This was the umpteenth time Lin Nian had heard this word today.

"After the twelve spikes pierce the brain, they forcefully stimulate the release of vast amounts of cerebral hormones. These hormones cause a portion of the Hybrid's Draconic blood to catalyze, inducing hallucinations and violent tendencies. This is what we call 'refined blood,' but this technique is a completely degraded version that causes irreversible damage to the Hybrid's brain," Toyama said, appearing somewhat spirited.

"We suspect this is a failed product of some Second or Third Generation dragon. Perhaps its original intent was to create an alchemical item that could truly refine blood... If the dragon who created the mask was the King of Bronze and Fire, the mask's effects would be much greater. Even so, it is rumored that the Secret Party drew inspiration from the mask after recovering it post-WWII to develop some techniques related to refining blood..."

"Instructor Toyama!" Manstein issued a sharp warning.

"Apologies, I seem to have digressed too much." Toyama realized his slip and gave Lin Nian an apologetic look as he turned to close the briefcase containing the mask. "Once the blood dries, the Living Soul will fall back into a slumber, and the bone spikes will retract, so there is no need to worry."

"So, if the German army had had more Hybrids under their command, it would have been possible for Leningrad to be breached from within by a horde of monsters?" Lin Nian asked, looking at the closed black case.

"Very possible. In wartime, panic and rumors always arise. Once these rumors have evidence to support them, a populace already under immense psychological stress would completely collapse! But unfortunately, Hybrids are a minority. Only two or three Ghouls were created during the Siege of Leningrad. We believe that even the brutal Nazi German army could not tolerate the casualties among their own soldiers caused by the failures, so they abandoned it," Toyama said.

"I'm starting to believe your story," Lin Nian looked at Toyama and smiled. "Even if everything you just said is a lie, I'm willing to admit it's an exquisite, peerless story, and I'll tell it to others if I get the chance."

"But our goal today is to make you truly believe in the existence of the Draconic civilization." Toyama also smiled and helped Lin Nian open a second black briefcase. Inside, resting on a black velvet cushion, lay a golden rod fifty centimeters in length.