"Something useful," Icha said.
"You know I'm a silver dragon, so of course you know what it's used for."
"If you appear in the form of a prototype, I do know. But a silver dragon has obviously been offended and still maintains such a weak appearance. I don't know the reason."
"Weak look?"
Moroje River was not irritated, but the coldness in her words worsened.
"Wrong. Weak face. Not gentle."
Yi Cha shrugged, "The bipedal form of half a meter to ten meters is good for spellcasting and flexible operation, but the dragon is very weak in this state. Why keep it like this?"
"Maybe I'm trying to cast spells and operate flexibly." Moroje River snorted.
"If there's a trend, I can see it. So absolutely not," Icha said.
"So sure? Although we have just met, I have to say that I find that you seem to be very conceited about your own judgment."
"On the contrary. I'm very humble, and I even get caught up in self-destruction a lot. It's so easy to just judge you."
Moroje River stopped, tightly wrapped the silver-gray hood of the same color as her hair, turned her head and looked at him coldly.
Yi Cha looked back as if nothing had happened: "Very offensive, right? This Miss Yinlong I just met, by the way, may I ask your age?"
They stopped in front of the ancient door of the hall, which was carved with Dosh cardong patterns. The silver dragon pressed one hand on the gemstone eye of a relief dragon head, and his voice was suppressed with anger. "I don't answer this kind of question."
"Okay. Anyway, judging from the scales, it is only between three thousand and five hundred years old, which is too young."
Yi Cha laughed. "As a young dragon, why don't you join the clan? Were you kicked out?"
Moroje River pressed the door with one hand and held the cloak to her chest with the other hand, her eyes dry and cold. "Don't worry, you'll find out."
Isaac glanced at her.
"It seems like things are really serious."
The smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and the gentlemanly detachment and solemnity returned. He took a half step back and bowed slightly. "Silver Dragon, I sincerely apologize for my offense."
Moro Yelifu said nothing. He held the door and looked aside.
"Feel sorry."
Yi Cha smiled faintly, "I just relied on my previous experience to know that there are some unique aspects that need to be paid attention to when dealing with dragons. In addition, I need to rule out some dark possibilities. As you said, we don't know each other's ins and outs."
"I didn't sense you paying attention to anything."
"It doesn't matter." Yi Cha smiled, "I already know that you are a sincere and calm partner. Now please."
He gestured crisply.
Moroje River was obviously still angry. But she was just silent for a while, then she grasped the gem on the dragon's head and pushed the door open.
Dazzling white light overflowed as the door opened, filling his eyes.
Fortunately, it only took a moment, and Yi Cha quickly adjusted his vision.
After adjusting, he saw a strange and tragic sight.
The vast hall is filled with dragons in their weaker forms.
They were sitting or lying down, and some were lying on the steps inelegantly, as if they had just tripped and fallen - or they had not gotten up for a long time.
Yi Cha remained silent and scanned the scaly faces.
Panic, confusion, misery, exhaustion, decline. Raving. complain.
The harmonious atmosphere that had always been as soothing and safe as a cloud could not be seen or heard in the dream cradle. The elegance and honor that the dragon had maintained for thousands of years were gone. The heavy realistic atmosphere is like a barb in a glove, like a barb growing on the throat, making it difficult for those who are in it to breathe.
A little silver dragon that was obviously less than a hundred years old let out a piercing cry, and large blood-red beads rolled down his cheeks. Immediately, an adult dragon with an anxious face next to him swung a claw and smashed the dragon. He fanned far away.
A fierce fight immediately broke out there. It was vulgar and so crude that Yi Cha couldn't believe it. Despair that was unbecoming of a dragon leaked unceremoniously from the cracks of the howl, showing that it indeed existed.
This is another version of hell. Yi Cha thought.
A heavy door slams.
Before he could react, the door in front of him was suddenly closed. The white farce closes before your eyes.
Icha adjusted his eyes and saw Moro Yelifu's hands behind his back, leaning against a heavy black door with a Doshika east pattern.
After a while.
"My people are all here." The young silver dragon whispered.
"I saw it. I was very impressed." Icha said after thinking about it.
Moroje River blinked. It was the first time she blinked. Calmness soon returned.
She stood up, tightened her cloak, and walked toward the courtyard again.
They returned to the fountain of blood.
"You know what happened?" Moroje River said.
"I want to know," Icha said.
"Dream."
Moro Yelifu raised her hand and drew a circle in the air. A stream of light green dreamy energy was lifted up by her and disappeared into the air without forming.
"The Sword Comes"
She looked down at her fingers.
"Dreams are the embodiment of our power. Production, creation, fighting, protection, strengthening, rituals and sacrifices. And communication. Everything is realized through dreams."
"I know."
"This is what the dragon would look like if there were no dreams. You saw it. The biped."
Moroje River sneered, "They are worse than bipeds. They are worse than reptiles. Without dreams, we wouldn't even be able to talk."
Because we have long forgotten how to speak with only our throats, how to walk on dirty stone floors, how to accept our feet stepping in puddles, how to use our limbs to drive away mosquitoes, and how to accept food that has not been beautified by dreams. We cannot accept it. "
"Looks like it."
"That's what it is when there are no dreams. That's what it is when dreams are shattered. Dreams disappear. All dreams."
Moroje River clenched one hand tightly and let it go. "We can't sleep. No matter what we do.
At first there were only occasional interruptions, startled awakenings, then insomnia. A little bit of insomnia. Then all night long. From one dragon spread to many dragons, all the way to my entire people.
We tried many methods, including medicinal oils, spells, praying to spirits, and casting gods. We asked giant spirits and vine spirits for help, but in the end it was all to no avail.
Everyone was patient at first, but soon became more and more irritable. Now...it's okay. They can't do much damage in their current state. "
"I know. You asked Taliliqi for help. What did he say?"
"I didn't say anything." Moroje River shook his head, "He ran away. He said he would go back and think of a solution, and then ran away. I don't know if he had already planned to run away, or if he realized that the disaster was about to spread to him. ."
"It also shows how difficult it is."
"Difficulty?"
Moroje River gave him a hard look.
"It's hard. That's it. The dragon can't sleep, and we don't dream anymore."
